A Mixed bag of firsts (part 2)
09 Jan 2021Akiya
Akiya private journal, 3306-12-26, entry 2"I'll fix us some tea. With thyme and and sugar, should help you with the hangover."
Now that I've puked my guts out, I feel very vulnerable. I'm naked, alone in a room I don't know, sweaty and probably stinking, in front that intimidating person. Who's wearing some kind of bathrobe now, I notice.
"Where did you find that?"
"By the shower, near the jacuzzi. Want to take a quick one? You might feel better."
I nod, and turn away.
--
"Less talkative, aren't you?"
"Well, I'm being comforted by the woman I raped. Gives me pause."
"Oh, don't be like that. It's my job. Plus it was quite fun with you. Just the right mix of eagerness and innocence. You really don't remember any of it? That's a pity. We'll have to do it again as soon as you're up for it." She leans forward while saying that in a breathy voice.
I don't even know where to look, or rather not look, between her gaze and the view she offers of her small but tempting cleavage. I have to swallow and breathe before I answer.
"No thanks. You would be saying the same thing anyway, even if you found me repulsive, wouldn't you?"
"Not exactly in those words, but yeah." she sighs. "Can't displease a customer. So what now? Want to enjoy the jacuzzi? You paid for it, after all, and it will be better for your hangover than dwelling on whatever undeserved guilt you're feeling."
Undeserved, that's what you say. But I don't tell her out loud. She's right on one point, rehashing the wall that free versus slave relationships has put between us won't help tear it down. The only way... I retrieve my handbrain, a dataslate for you not raised by my father and his strange ideas about proper vocabulary, to check on it. I do have the bounty money. That should be worth more than a single slave, wouldn't it? At least when I was one, I didn't get the idea I was worth more than a Cobra hull.
I also have one transaction I don't remember, from yesterday evening, with a subsidiary of the Trans Galactic Slave Corporation, reserving a premium suite plus "Hannah" for 24 hours. For a sum that would have frightened me back in the days, but is now small change. Spacers really operate on another level, financially. Add three zeros everywhere. Feels so strange. But might become useful, at least. When my head stops hurting. And if Hannah agrees.
--
Of course, Jacuzzi, especially in low gravity means both of us being naked, and half-sitting half-floating close together, with the occasional bump and grabbing each other to stabilize. I have difficulties to calm myself down enough to enjoy the warm water. Deep breaths, closed eyes. I still feel guilty enjoying the physical proximity of Hannah in warm water, but in the end, I must admit it feels quite good on my hangover, and whether it's that or the tea, my headache recedes enough that I feel ready for some serious talk.
"Hey, Hannah, that's your name, right? Can we talk seriously for a bit?"
She gets somber when hearing her name. But only for the shortest time. I wonder if I imagined it when she smiles, looks me in the eyes, and jumps on me, silencing me with a kiss on my lips. Then, when she frees my mouth and I take my breath to protest, she bites my ear. Not that hard, but I let out a surprised cry.
"Ohh, such a sexy voice!" Her tone is playful, but her gaze is hard. And her body tense. I don't feel like the situation is sexy at all, for what little I know about sex.
"What..."
"Shh." She interrupts me with a finger on my lips, then whisper in my ear. "Can you not talk seriously in a place whose security is owned by my boss?"
"Oh, okay". I hesitate a moment, then close my arms on her back in a hug to signify my approval. A totally platonic hug, I swear. I mean, I just realized that someone, officially in charge of this suite security, probably has a record of whatever happened last night while I don't even remember it myself.
I feel Hannah relaxing in my arms, and sit her on my lap while I think. As to protect my naked body from whatever camera might be... In the lighting system, maybe? I should relax and try to ignore that, or all of her acting will be for nothing, but it's hard for me. Okay, think. Pilot mode. Don't care how you look, do the thing you're supposed to do, or you might end up dead. Yes, being under 100 is for rookies, and passing the mail slot with landing gear already deployed too, but following checklists saves lives.
So, priority one right now, don't betray her. Act like nobody is peeping. Stay calm and naked. Appreciate that you have a woman in your arms, even if it makes you feel guilty. Priority two, find an environment you control.
"Hey, would you like to see Sophie? My ship?"
--
Red flashing lights illuminate the corridor, reflecting on the naked metal beams.
"Unauthorized entry, please stand back before armed response." A synthetic voice hails us.
We jump back from the hangar entrance, and I immediately punch the intercom.
"Seega Dock security, please standby... Yes Madam, how can I help you?"
"Why I am not authorized in my ship's hangar?"
"Please let me review the logs. Ah yes, it appears you've been trying to take some terminal-bound property of the Trans-Galactic Slave Corporation on board."
Hannah gestures towards the back of her neck, and I understand she's got an embedded transponder. A couple of slaves had one, back on Godel Vista, but I never did. A young technician like me wasn't worth enough to implement that. She pulls out her dataslate.
"Standby, I call my boss." She steps away. "Hey boss, I need to visit my customer's ship, and I can't because of your paranoid security. You should to arrange that... No. Don't you have other ways of keeping me than bothering a premium customer? You have too many of them? Yes... Someone already owes her an apology after the bad bottle she was served at Sally's yesterday... Okay, please be quick."
And after that brief chat, she steps back towards the intercom. "Hello, I'm now authorized in the hangar if you lock the launch procedure. You should receive the encrypted confirmation. If it's okay for the pilot." She glances at me.
"If you can assure me the lock will be removed as soon as Hannah steps out of the hangar, I agree." So that's it for any fancy young girl idea I might have had of kidnapping my lover. Well, whatever. I was not even planning that! I suppose I'm really soft and protected, thinking about the lawful way first, like that. Although now that I can not anymore, the idea is tempting.
"Lock recorded," the intercom answers, "linked to passage of transponder for slave ID Hannah through the door, and pilot's approval. Application and removal will be automatic. Have a nice day."
We open the door and step into the corridor again. Nothing scary happens this time. My handbrain beeps, and I confirm my approval for a temporary lock application. The light of the door to the hangar turns green. We step through and find ourselves standing beneath the Cobra while the hangar floodlights spool up with their characteristic noises. Another beep from my handbrain signals she's detected my approach, and after I confirm, the entry ramp deploys.
This hangar doesn't feel like it's in the same part of the station than the suite we were in half an hour ago. All the structure is barren, visible wires and pipes are running everywhere. It smells like industrial lubricants and hydraulic fluids. The lights hum, we hear fluid coursing through pipes, and some unbalanced machinery somewhere emits the occasional clank or electric arcing noise. And Sophie herself is not a work of art, with her sharp diamond shape, and chipped graphite paint.
But I feel better as we approach her. In the end, the world of heavy machinery is my world, the one I was raised in, while the world of art displays, quality leather couches, luxurious satin sheets, and soft music, is not. Although I could get used to some of that, I suppose, but not when controlled by a stranger. And Sophie is both my machine and my home, even if I got her temporarily stuck in place. Here, I feel in control.
"Falcon Delacy Cobra 3, AK2-1CU, Sophie Bryant" Hannah reads the plaque near the airlock door. "What's all that?"
"Builder and model. Second entry of first 34th century AK page in the Cubeo ship registry. Named in hommage to Sophie Bryant." Yes, this is my world, definitely. Proudly.
"Who's that?"
"A pre-space mathematician. You see, the ship I was loaned for my training was called the Maria Agnesi, another pre-space mathematician. Fun little ship, I might buy her back one day, if I need to refresh on my training. Anyway, I made some research and found about her, and decided to continue the tradition. I mean, mathematics have been so important to develop all that." I gesture at the ship. "And from what I read, it was very difficult for women, back them, to even be allowed to do maths, let alone be taken seriously when they managed to do it. So yeah." I pat the side of the hull. "Meet Sophie."
We step inside, I close the ramp, and I turn towards Hannah. She looks as out of place in her evening dress than I must be in mine, inside this machine. I fight the urge to add more delay by changing into a pilot outfit.
"Now, let's have that serious talk!"
OOC: Edited 2021-01-10 to go around the lack of artificial gravity in ED lore. Yes, I didn't actually spent the night at Seega Dock in-game, but I needed that rotating ring for the jacuzzi: don't look too closely at my flight logs! (at least, this is still the correct system)
Thanks for continuing to read that story! A third and hopefully last part is in the works (this was initially supposed to be a two-parters!) . As always, please don't hesitate to reach out with comments or to point my English mistakes. I know English is not my native language, so I won't get mad. And I'm always eager for suggestions to augment my roleplay or give me new in-game objectives.
Little in-game content in that one yet, but I did use a couple of PBTA-like rolls to force me to introduce complications and not let Akiya get everything she wants. Hope it's as fun to read as it was for me to play.
Note that the "handbrain" vocabulary is not my idea, it's a shout-out to Schlock Mercenary by Howard Tayler.
And yes, Akiya is kind of erasing a lot of the pre-space age feminist wins here when talking about women in maths, including the ones fought for by Sophie Bryant herself. But seen from the 34th century, I hope you can understand a non-historian might not have all the details straight.
As always too, if your commander wants to meet Akiya in-game, don't hesitate to send her a friend/wing/group request! She should be flying on week-end and holiday nights and rainy days, GMT+1, real-life permitting. You can contact her in Standard Galactic English or old pre-spacefaring French.