Bait and Switch
25 Oct 2016Kyndi the Badass Space Chick
Well, hello there. I see you've given yourself the tour.Keep it together, Kyndi. Breathe. Look him in the eye. Relax.
Nice pipe, by the way. Very caveman. Goes well with the orange. Makes you stand out, you know?
Yep. Both hands up. See? Nothin' in 'em. No weapons on me, either. Like I could hide anything in this snug-fitting flightsuit anyway.
Okay. Sitting back down now. Nice and easy. I'm cool. You're cool. We're both cool. Just a couple of cucumbers in here, right?
Speaking of frozen veggies- how did you get out of your pod? Cryo tech is pretty damn established, and-
Okay, okay. I get it. No questions. Please- let go. There you go. Hand loosening around my throat is good. Something tells me you're not a pilot. Am I right? Yes? Then we need each other. You need me to fly you wherever you're going, and I need you to take it easy with the pipe.
What's that? No, I hadn't thought of that. I just took the job. Of course, now that you mention it, it does seem a little odd that Blue Fed would go to the expense of out-of-system care for some roughneck inmate. You've got to understand- when you're me, excess questions are bad for business. Especially when it comes to some rock splitter holding a pipe against my cheek.
What? A software engineer? Now I know you're fucking with me. You look like you've been sweating over barbells since before you could walk.
Black market performance stims? Every other day to help you mine longer? Jesus Christ. I mean, yeah- that makes sense. Terribly inhumane, but it makes sense. So how does a software nerd end up in-
Okay, okay. No questions. Sorry. Just put down the pipe. It's hard to concentrate when it's right in front of my face like that. I'm just not quite wrapping my head around how fail-proof technology so conveniently failed for you.
Wait. You what? Put a timer on the cryo tube and hacked into the station's mission board to contact me? That's, uh- is it weird that I kind of admire you right now? Gonna have to throw that in the bag of tricks.
So, uh- where to? Where's home?
Eotienses? What'd you do, wear Federation red on Patreus's birthday?
Jesus, Kyndi. Watch what you say.
Yeah, you're right. It doesn't concern me. And yeah- I'm setting course. See the display to my left? The zig-zag lines between the dots end where you want to go. It'll just take awhile to get there. Like, a day.
O-kay. Why are you looking at me like I'm a big, cheesy synthburger?
Oh. Right. Haven't seen a woman in-
Seven years? Jesus. And here you are, hundreds of hormone doses later.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Just take it easy. Not that I'm not sympathetic- just one of us needs to steer the ship. Just trust me on this one. I know you're hard-up, but an emergency stop because the ship is about to crash into something is very, very unpleasant. Okay. Lower the pipe and hang on to something. I'm dropping us out of supercruise. See? We're stopped. In the middle of nowhere. Just how you'd like it, I'm sure.
Jesus fuck, Kyndi. You're gonna have to play this one just right...
Whoa. Okay. Already unbuckling your belt. I can see that you're, uh- not taking no for an answer. You're the mountain of muscle with the pipe, and I'm the defenseless pilot chick. So let's just make this simple. I take care of you right now, and everyone walks away unharmed when I drop you off.
Deal? Deal.
Alright. Let's do this. Of course I'm serious. Don't look so surprised. I'm an easygoing girl. How easygoing? C'mon over and find out. Yeah. Right over me, as I'm sat in the pilot's chair. Now drop those trousers. Further. All the way down. Ankles apart as far as your pants allow. Give a girl room to work. There you go.
My lord, it has been awhile, hasn't it? Tell you what- let me unzip the front of my flight suit, too. Haven't seen a pair of these in ages, have you? Now you just relax while I get a grip on the situation.
That's right. Focus on my tits. There you go. Just stay dumb and happy for five more seconds....
I close my eyes and take a quick, meditative breath.
Okay. You've got one chance at this. Do not fuck it up.
The roughneck con is staring intensely at me, low guttural noises coming from his throat before I've even done much. One hand is slowly moving as I lean forward slightly, making my best bedtime moans-
-to cover up the sound of my other hand sliding open the concealed storage compartment under my pilot's seat. My fingers dart around for a moment, and curl around the hard composite grip of the plasma blaster I've got stashed away. I look up at the con, his face an indescribable mixture of lust, anticipation, and dominance. I smile at him from the downward angle that every man loves, both my hands moving slowly and purposefully, the cold gun barrel about to touch between his thighs.
You wanted to get fucked, jailbird? Well here you go.
Yeah. That's right. You know what that is. And you know where it's pointing. Drop the pipe, or else you'll be serving the rest of your sentence in the women's block.
What's the matter, big boy? You looked like you were about to burst a moment ago. Now, you're getting, uh- squishy. Let me guess- this never happens, right?
I see how it is. The nice pilot chick holds a gun against your junk and suddenly you're a big ol' softy. Don't feel bad. Being a trigger squeeze away from having the family jewels incinerated has that effect on lots of men, I'm sure. And think of the damage that could happen if I were to shove the barrel of this gun up-
Oh. Look at you. You're on your ass. That can happen when you stumble back when your pants are around your ankles. Whose idea was that?
Nope. Don't even look at that pipe. Look at me, and listen harder than you've ever listened to another human being speak in your entire life:
The only reason I haven't pulled the trigger is because I'm not in the mood to have half-cauterized dick gibs splattered all over my nice, clean cockpit. But glance at that pipe again, and I will. Look at me wrong, and I will. Try to get the drop on me, and I will. In fact, you're going to have to work very hard just to live a life where you can still piss standing up.
Now get up. Slowly. No, don't pull up your pants. Just turn around and penguin-walk your ass back to the cargo bay. There you go. Baby steps. Hands up. Don't fall. Good job.
Now, open the door. Good. Holy Christ, it's cold in here. Looks like you think so, too.
You're a smart man. You know where this is heading. Back into the cryo pod. Now.
Excuse me? Did I give you permission to cover back up? You're getting iced just as you are, with that terrified little nub on display for the whole 'verse to see. How you like that?
What? You're asking my name? What are you going to do, break out again and hunt me down? Yeah, right. And what is it that I do? Please. Look down. Look around. Look into my eyes. Isn't it obvious?
The name's Kyndi. Just Kyndi. I fly, I hire out- and unlike you, I stay free.
Sweet dreams, asshole.
