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Some things have been a long time coming. Also, some Akitas.

Hey folks. Here is a followup to the previous story, which allows us to spend some more time with Mirror Maddy, who I hope is everything you have hoped for :P I am reasonably happy with it. It's fun to write these characters, even when it's also silly. So.

As for the elephant in the room: going to put the explanation here rather than spending a journal on it. Sorry for my ongoing quietness. If we chat on Telegram or you follow my socials, you know both that my dad was diagnosed with Parkinson's a couple years ago, which required an increasing amount of my attention, and also that he passed away in late August, which it turns out also requires a lot of attention and I have not been in a great headspace with trying to pick up all the pieces. My recommendation to you, if possible, is that you not die. I have always been pretty open about how important my dad was to me, and I am not going to lie about how difficult this has made continuing to write on a regular basis.

That said, I have still been writing; if you're on Patreon I have been uploading WIPs to the relevant Dropbox folder, but that means there's a backlog of things to edit and post here. I am also not going to promise that I will be able to dump those on you for the rest of November. But I will try. I appreciate you all and your support over what has been a trying few years. Patreon subscribers, as always, this should also be live for you with notes and maps and stuff.

Released under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. Share, modify, and redistribute--as long as it's attributed and noncommercial, anything goes.

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Tales of the Dark Horse, by Rob Baird

S8E4, “Kicking up a row"

Stardate 68083

Captain's log, stardate 68083

Instead of making contact with Satari Kai, we've found ourselves in the company of Jenny, the Pirate Queen… formerly one Madison Amelia May—but different. Rumors of her death appear to have been just that. However, we don't have time to dwell on the surprise: according to the pirates, they might be able to help us out.

I and my senior staff are disinclined to trust them. But, at least, 'Jenny' has agreed to meet aboard the Dark Horse_, so they'll be outnumbered if they try anything rash._

“I thought you were supposed to be dead."

“Why? Who told you that?"

Maddy tried to recall who it had been. Theresa Hatfield, probably, although she'd also been torturing the Akita regularly at the time. “I think it was the captain of the Agamemnon. They said you were in charge of a garbage scow, I guess."

“I'm famous, huh? What'd I tell you." She nudged the cheetah next to her, who nodded politely. “Or they wanted to take you down a peg, of course. How does this work, anyway? We're not the exact same, obviously."

“Doesn't have your fashion sense, for one," Marian Almeida said, under her breath. Maddy hadn't bothered with her dress uniform—putting that on for pirates seemed like a bit much—and was still wearing her dark-blue duty jacket, which was debatably 'commanding' but did not especially flatter the Akita.

'Jenny,' on the other hand, had switched to a long, dark coat and a blood-red scarf. The coat, in particular, gave her an appreciably dangerous air. She smirked: “That's for damned sure."

Madison ignored the insult, and focused on the question instead. “We're not really certain how it 'works.' But I'm sure we can discuss that later—over drinks or something. If I understand right, what I'm getting from you is that Satari Kai is dead. Is that true?"

“Got in the way one too many times." Jenny toyed with the edge of her scarf, and then looked up, as if puzzled. “Why do you care about that asshole?"

Captain May turned to Mitti hopefully. “Can you explain better, maybe?"

The Abyssinian had been introduced as a native of the mirror universe. She'd also asked the captain to avoid revealing any other details—just in case any bad blood emerged. She hoped she could continue to speak in generalities. “They recovered an old K-type bomber used by the Union Navy. A Kahil-30, if it matters."

“Might not. You looking to sell?"

“No. One of their crew was performing maintenance on the bomber and inadvertently—"

“Triggered the handcuffs," the other Akita guessed. “That it? And you don't have any suicide missions to volunteer 'em for."

“That's all those old crates are worth," the cheetah by her side added, voice still low. “Shouldn't even be using them."

“They do not consider the sailor in question expendable," Mitti said, half-expecting a disbelieving reply from either of the two pirates. None was forthcoming. Then again, pirates can't just impress new crew when they use up the old ones, I suppose… “Captain May asked me who would know how to disable that protective system. I suggested it might be Satari Kai."

Jenny leaned back. “Probably. Well, he would've outsourced it. You think it's a Kahil-30?"

“So that's just a straight Uxzu chip," her first mate mused, while the Akita stared up towards the ceiling, deep in thought. “We could bust that. Any old hacking puck could do it."

“Not any old hacking puck. They've got that weird encryption going on."

“Sure, if this was some two-bit Obas Family operation. But anything we've got, we could do it real easy. If they made it worth our while. My opinion, I mean."

“True, true. But your opinion counts for a lot, dear." The Akita straightened, and folded her paws. “So what's in it for me? You're gonna offer some kind of trade goods, right? Precious metals, pretty stones… weapons…"

Madison had not planned to encounter her doppelgänger. For the moment, she approached it as she would any other negotiation. “What would make it worth your while to help us?"

“Your ship. For a little bit, at least. Classified Union intel says that your hyperdrive is capable of 32 megajärvi. That's probably impossible, but if they're using that as an excuse for why you beat them up, you have to be able to do at least 20. Right?"

The lingering effects of hyperspace weaponry, long in the past, crippled most drives built in the mirror universe, as Maddy understood it. “Yes…"

“So you could run a blockade for me. You, cat." She waited until she was certain that she had Mitti's attention. “You know where Udolga is, right?"

Mitti Torres knew of the planet by reputation, although not its exact location. “Somewhere out past the Twin Rifts. It's a mining colony, isn't it? A frontier world."

“Frontier prison," Jenny clarified. “Got some people locked up I don't exactly want locked up, if you follow. Now, they'd see me coming. You could get in there quick, though, and fix that problem of mine."

“What kind of people?"

“Old friends."

Maddy stepped back in to the conversation. “You expect us to believe that? You're not going to be freeing them out of the goodness of your heart, I'm sure. They have something you want."

“Oh, of course. I thought that went without saying…"

***

Jenny provided a few more details, and then, with an affable shrug— well, it's your crew gettin' their brain fried, captain, not mine—agreed to return to her ship while they discussed the offer. Dr. Beltran, as she had for the duration of the first meeting, observed silently.

The 'friends,' in Jenny's telling, were other members of the Union underworld. Some of them were ones to whom she owed favors. Others were ones she wanted to gain favors from by freeing them. Felicia did not know how she might justify the intervention to the Terran Confederation's Foreign Ministry.

Better to not mention it, she was thinking.

They were all thinking that. “This would be easy for us," Captain May said. “Based on her description. I'm guessing we could even sneak in with the Tempest."

“To help a notorious criminal free other notorious criminals," Dave Bradley countered. “We don't even know what they were sentenced for."

“Being sentenced by the Union doesn't count for much, if you ask me." Having said that, though, the Akita was not entirely comfortable with the idea. Even in the Union, there must've been ordinary lawbreakers: thieves, murderers, tax cheats…

Dave thought that, too. “But they're probably not just random citizens."

“You could ask for a list of names," Dr. Beltran suggested. “And their crimes."

“Yeah, if the Pirate Queen us tells the truth."

The leopardess folded her paws, and met the Akita's look evenly. “Indeed. There is no way you can evaluate whether or not these individuals deserve to be incarcerated. Similarly, there is no way you can evaluate whether or not the other captain can actually disable the control device in question. You either trust her…"

“Or we don't," Maddy finished. “Well, I don't trust her. Ms. Torres, what about you? Do you trust her?"

“I've heard a lot of stories, ma'am. Stories about the Black Ship showing up—destroying a whole space station, or leveling the defenses of a colony to raid them for something she wants. They say she shows no mercy to her foes."

“There's a catch?"

“We thought… I thought… she was an alien. I thought the ship was Dominion, too. Maybe I don't know enough to say for certain."

Sensing that her captain was going to continue musing about the pirate's psychology, Dr. Beltran intervened again. “What about this prison colony?"

“Udolga? It was an Igaru mining world before the Union conquered them. There's platinum close to the surface, but most of what they produce is iziria."

Dave understood 'Igaru' from context, but not the last word. “Which is?"

“A dense crystal with a complex lattice." It was not uncommon for Mitti to see blank expressions from the Star Patrol crew with what she thought of as familiar terms, so she went with the basics of what the material did, and why. “The Union uses it in antimatter synthesis, as a proton amplifier. It's found in certain tellurium mines, I think. I know it can't be created artificially—at least, we can't. Maybe you can."

“That sounds like eshmunite," the retriever realized. The Terran Confederation was aware of the crystalline approach to antimatter production. It was, for safety reasons, not one available to them: “There are a few regular sources in the Confed, but only associated with dangerous levels of radioactivity."

“I think the Igaru were resistant to it. They were insectoids of some sort; I'm not a historian. But… yes, I believe that's true on Udolga, as well."

Commander Bradley's head canted. “That's why we don't mine eshmunite. It can't be done safely. Unless…" The implication dropped into place, and his ears flattened. “Unless you had a steady supply of prisoners."

“I'm feeling less guilt about breaking anybody out of a place like that," Maddy admitted. “Criminal or not. I could be talked into going along with this. But I'm not the one who has to—to go along, that is."

Jenny had suggested that, for the duration of the mission, Dave Bradley be posted aboard the Powhatan. More precisely, what she'd done was look at the retriever and say: this one looks like he could be fun. I want him to stay with me until we're done.

And, when Dave had asked her to clarify what 'fun' meant, the Akita had given him a smile that was disconcertingly un-Maddylike. “I assume they're not going to torture me for information," he said, finally. “It might be safe."

“I think you're just collateral," his captain agreed. Dave hadn't been an improbable choice, to her. The retriever wasn't a trained diplomat, no, but he was affable and quick on his feet—he'd been their liaison more than once in the past.

“Then, if that's what it takes, throw me into the pot."

***

Liron—having not been privy to any of the preceding discussion—was, for several seconds, at a loss.

They were looking at a familiar Akita, flanked by the equally familiar Mitti Alexander and Dave Bradley. On the other hand, in the few hours since last talking to Madison May, she had gained a scar across her muzzle, which vanished briefly beneath an eyepatch the same deep black as the dog's mask.

Also, they were no longer in uniform: “When… where did you get the jacket?" Liron Rocha finally asked.

It was a duster, similarly black, that even over the short duration of their time together the maned wolf would've concluded to be uncharacteristically stylish for the captain—to say nothing of the crimson scarf accompanying it. May grinned. “Won it. Game on Sebeto II. I know how to pick good prizes. Unfortunately, they didn't let me add you to the pot."

When Liron faltered, Dave cleared his throat and stepped forward. “She's familiar with Uxzu technology. She says she can disable the control module."

“You're the mirror—"

“No," the Akita said, cutting off Liron's realization. “I'm the normal one. Your uptight boss is the clone, or whatever. That's why I'm the one that's gonna save your lanky butt. Thank me later."

Without asking further questions, the Akita clambered up into the Kahil, and made straight for the control module. Liron tried to focus on their breathing, the moment she laid paws on the thing; the moment of apprehension passed quickly.

“Not bad. Who did the initial workup on this? Looks like there was an intrusion attempt, but they didn't trip any of the safeties. Talent, that. One of yours?"

“Probably," Dave said carefully. “It might've been done before us."

“Well, if they're looking for a change of career, let 'em know I'm hiring. This'll be easy, though… just gotta let the decryption subroutines run for a bit. Really dumb that they even still use these things. But hey—that's the Union for you, am I right?"

Liron watched the Akita work, and allowed themself to be comforted by the woman's own lack of concern. “I wouldn't know. Did you serve?"

“For a bit, yeah. Wasn't for me. Got into a scrape, and then I figured… change of pace would be good for me."

“That's what happened to your eye?"

“Nah." She reached up, slipped the patch off, and gave the maned wolf a wink. “That's just for show. You all seemed like you'd be fun to tweak a bit. Which, I have to say, I don't regret assuming. Different kinda scrape. How'd you get bonded to this thing, anyhow?"

“Me." Mitti spoke up. “I should've recognized it, but I wasn't thinking straight when I turned it on."

“You?" Jenny, the pirate queen, turned from the workbench. She looked Mitti over with fresh eyes that seemed more keen than the inspection of a simple criminal. “And who are you, again? I thought you were just their tour guide."

“Mitti Torres. I'm a salvager."

“Are you, then?" The canine's head tilted, and she leaned forward, giving a sniff—as though the truth of the matter might be as simple as a lingering scent on the Abyssinian's fur. “SRF? Ozina? Were you one of Solix's?"

“The Link."

“Fuck me. How'd you wind up with these squares?"

“After Nara. I… sort of stowed away."

Her eyes widened, slightly, and a smile curled her muzzle as she repeated her earlier assessment. “Fuck me. You're a fugitive? The General pays real handsome for those."

“She's not a fugitive." Dave felt it was best to put his foot down on that front, given the way Jenny's expression had changed—like a pawn shop owner with a lucky find. “Torres is a member of our crew. Our government has granted her asylum."

The expression remained, for a few seconds longer. “Mm-hm. I was just kidding, don't worry. Can't make demands, can I? Not even keeping up my end of the bargain yet—what kind of person would I be?"

“Can I ask what the bargain is?" Liron was skeptical of the Akita, whose outward appearance belied an apparently striking difference from their own captain. “For your help?"

“I'm not helping you. We're helping each other. Your ship is going to be useful for some things. In a bit, after I… there, see? There's the key for your module. You trust me?"

“Not really, no," they admitted. “But I don't have much choice."

She snickered, and did not seem particularly offended by the implication. “Fair enough. You want to do the honors?"

When they hesitated, Mitti stepped forward. “I can—if you want me to, Liron? I know the tech well enough."

“Please."

Mitti did her own check of the numbers, steadied her nerves, and sent the shutdown command. A light on the control module blinked twice, and then went dead.

Liron, though, did not. “Well?" they asked.

“It's done."

The new Akita beamed. “And you thought you couldn't trust me. We should get you checked out by your doctor, though—right?"

***

The ship's doctors did not have sufficiently detailed scans of Liron's brain from before the incident. Ayenni did, however, have a detailed scan from after the incident, and a working hypothesis about how the control module functioned.

And that meant she no longer saw any indication of the module's influence. “The trace patterns that Dr. Wolf observed before are gone," she told the maned wolf. “I think you're cured."

“For now." They all turned to look at Jenny, who turned the control module over in her paw. “Until I turn it on again. Maybe I nab all of you, this time. Please ask your captain to come down here."

“Hold on," Liron, who intended to prevent any of their shipmates from experiencing the same fate, spoke up before Ayenni could do anything of the sort. “Why? So you can take control of her, too? Why would we do that?"

“Because I know how these work, and you don't," the Akita told them. “I don't need her standing here. It's just easier to talk in person. That's all."

And then she shot Ayenni a pointed look. The alien became aware first of the dog's thoughts, and then a fixedly recited poem. Nothing meaningful: a point was being made. She swallowed. “Call her, please, Dave. She's not going to be harmed."

“You read her mind?"

“It was briefly shouted at me. You can trust her that far, though. At least. I don't read minds without consent, captain."

Jenny smirked, even as Dave paged Captain May and asked for her presence. The captain's mirror counterpart was still thinking, loudly, of bawdy limericks. “Can't be too sure…"

Ayenni did her best to shut it out. “Where did you learn to do that? I thought that, um…" The idea was so disturbing that she didn't like saying it aloud, but: “I thought that telepathy had been purged from the Yara in this universe."

“They say that, sure. But there are other species that are, at least, weakly empathic. And, of course, the Union has done what they can to develop it on their own. Have they been successful? Who knows."

Not for the first time, Dave was grateful that he hailed from a more genteel kind of environment. “They didn't try it with you, though?"

“Nah. I have to do everything the old-fashioned way. Body language, y'know, that sort of thing."

And hers was relaxed—casual, despite the stark lighting in the ship's medical bay, and the stakes of their conversation. Madison May, arriving a minute later, noticed this at once, and was immediately, if ironically, put on edge. “You wanted to speak to me?"

“I did! Doctor?" she prompted Ayenni. “Why don't you give her the good news?"

“Liron Rocha is no longer in any danger, captain. Their neural patterns are consistent with a complete recovery."

“With that being said, you should dismiss them," the pirate suggested. “We have something to talk about, you and I. Some… practicalities."

Captain May didn't like the tone that was being used. “Liron, you're dismissed—I'm sure you'd like to get some proper rest, anyway. You're dismissed, too, Ms. Torres."

“Not her." Mitti and Madison May both froze. “She stays."

“Then… I'm staying, too," Liron said, in case the Abyssinian was about to be censured in some way, for something she'd done on the maned wolf's behalf.

Jenny shrugged. “Suit yourself."

Maddy concluded the best course of action was to decisively act as though they were carrying on as planned. “If you've held up your end of the bargain, I'm happy to hold up our end now, too. Commander Bradley can return with you to begin the tactical planning you talked about. Our scout ship is ready to launch on a preparatory reconnaissance mission."

“That's a good idea. Launch as soon as possible. But I'm going with you."

The Akita found this neither clarifying nor reassuring. “But we're not going. We agreed that the easiest way to break into the prison was with using the Tempest again. Inserting a small team to avoid raising any suspicion."

“At the time, yes. But now you're taking the Dark Horse. My ship will accompany you. I have a plan, and—"

Maddy narrowed her eyes at the pirate captain. “No. That wasn't what you said. You said that if we agreed to use our ship to help you get somebody out of prison, you'd decrypt that… control module thing. That's it."

“Yes."

“We had a deal."

“Yes," she repeated. “And now, I am altering that deal. Pray I don't alter it any further."

“Why?"

“You didn't tell your native guide here was ex-Link. She's got plenty of interesting information locked up in that head of hers."

“Such as?"

“For one, she can get me access to the planetary comms network. The Link does that kind of thing sometimes—hacks global networks for a bit of subversive broadcasting. Don't you, cat?"

“On occasion, yes," Mitti admitted. Sometimes it was propaganda; more often, it had been a threat that her superiors wanted everyone to hear at once. “What do you want it for?"

“I have a message to send, and that prison is a good place to do it. Which, of course, General Beltran would never consent to. She'd never want to do something so… radical. So unconventional. So likely to actually get something done for once."

Captain May had a hard time believing that the other Akita was, in reality, anything close to being a freedom fighter. “You… want to get 'something done'? About the Union?"

“I want to rock the boat a little, sure."

“Meaning?"

“If I could broadcast to the entire planet, I could incite an uprising. Destroy the whole prison, once and for all. Even if I have my own reasons for that, captain, I'm sure 'Ms. Torres' can tell you that it's a net good for the universe."

“Incite an uprising with just a broadcast?" Dave was as skeptical as his captain. “How?"

“I'm very persuasive. Also, by taking out the guard towers and the command posts they use to keep control over the inmates. It wouldn't take much of a push. The Union would gladly surrender to save their own skins."

Madison May was the type of Star Patrol officer to have joined up out of an innate sense of justice. She was also the type of Star Patrol officer to have been exiled to the frontier for an excess of desire to act on that sense.

Consequently, the 'guard towers and command posts' of an inhumane prison world failed to evoke much sympathy. That didn't mean she was blind to the possibility of emergent consequence: “and then what?"

“And then, they either do surrender, or they run. Udolga is taken over by the prisoners."

“Then the Union comes back with a bigger fleet and pulls the same trick, but without letting anyone surrender," Dave said. “How's that an improvement?"

“You greatly overestimate their ability to move quickly. They can't. And by the time they get around to it, everyone will already be off the planet. Or maybe they'll have sold themselves to the highest bidder willing to protect them. All I know is that the Union won't be in charge, and I think everyone here can agree that's the best outcome. Right?"

Maddy was—this required no great insight—more sympathetic to that outcome than to its alternatives, including the status quo. At the same time, she had no reason to trust the other Akita, who had already made that job more difficult than it needed to be. “I tell you what: I'm willing to consider a change to our agreement, but only if you tell me the truth."

“You don't think I'm being honest? I'm hurt!"

“No you're not. And you don't give a damn about the welfare of those prisoners."

Jenny gave her a thin, albeit somewhat knowing, smile. “I do, actually."

“Don't try me."

The other Akita kept smiling. “Fine. Early in my career, one of my subordinates was rather… politically minded. He had connections. Eventually, he tried to blackmail me. When that didn't work, he resorted to an assassination attempt. As far as he's concerned, I'm dead."

“As far as everyone's concerned, right?" Dave added. “That's what we were told."

“Apparently, yes. He's moved up the ranks. Now, he's the administrator of a certain prison planet. It's true that I do have friends incarcerated on Udolga. And, also, it's true that I don't want them to die there. I have some affection, after all."

“It goes beyond that, though. It's personal," Maddy said.

“Yes, a little. Losing a valuable inmate or three would be humiliating to my former protégé. Losing the entire prison would ruin him. He'd have to go into hiding—like I did. A taste of his own medicine. And, while I am not politically minded," she added, with her smile widening to show sharp canine teeth. “I would deign to support that particular revolution. Out of the goodness of my… this thing."

She had gestured, vaguely, towards her chest to indicate where her heart—presumably—was located. As the pirate talked, though, Ayenni had been feeling the poetry intended to screen the Akita's thoughts falling away. “She's telling the truth, captain."

Revenge, as motivations went, struck Madison as plausible. Besides which, her own sense of honor kept her from the gamble that they could simply take Liron and run. “Alright. We can work with you. If we're traveling together, though, I suppose you won't need Commander Bradley. Right? You have no need of a liaison, after all."

Her grin was back to its former, dangerous self. “Think of him as insurance—make sure you don't try to run away until the job is done."

“If you don't trust us," Dave pointed out, “then you don't trust us. I'm not much of a hostage."

“Oh, don't sell yourself short. I think you'll do just fine," the Akita promised, favoring him with an unsettling wink. “We're agreed, then, Madison? Honor among thieves?"

“We're agreed," Maddy said, trying not to sound too unhappy. There was, she believed, no such thing as that sort of ethos. But her goals were well-intentioned, of course, and if on occasion the goals of thieves aligned with those… “Provided that Dave consents—given the changed circumstances—he can return to your ship with you."

He wasn't much happier than his captain was. “I consent."

“Just what I wanted to hear." The pirate turned the control module over in her paw, examining it as if she was considering handing it back over. Then, before anyone could react, she dropped it to the floor, and brought her boot down hard.

The sound of splintering plastic and glass was almost shockingly loud, compared to the abrupt silence. The Star Patrol crew looked from the remains of the module to Liron, who was staring in mute shock at the Akita's boot. They were, however, still alive. And, with the exception of their quickly racing heart, still healthy.

Jenny ground her heel into the thing, and then picked it back up; most of the splinters stayed contained within the broken casing. “You can dispose of this, I guess?" It was a rhetorical question; she held it out to Dr. Wolf, who took it without saying anything. “Alright, then. Let's be off, Dave. Time's a-wasting."

After she left, the others followed, each with their own new tasks. Ayenni and Wolf stayed behind. Dr. Wolf cleared his throat. “Is she going to eat him?"

“After a fashion, I think. Dave believes that her designs on him are innocent." Ayenni sighed. “He can be quite naive, at times."

“Did you tell him?"

“I mentioned it when the two of them first came down here so he could get checked out for spending time on one of their ships. The local environment is bad for us. It leads to progressive cellular decay—amongst Terrans, at least. I think I'd start to be affected, too, with enough time. That's why we can't stay here forever, but… as long as we're on our ship, breathing our atmosphere, it won't be too bad."

“Commander Bradley will be safe?"

“From the cellular damage, yes. It's only for a couple days. I should be able to reverse it when we return to our own universe. I do not imagine he'll be safe from the… wiles… of that Akita."

“Are those wiles? Those don't seem subtle enough for wiles."

Ayenni smiled. “But too subtle for Dave, aren't they? He didn't believe me. I bet him twenty credits he wouldn't come back with his virtue intact."

“But you don't object?"

“No. Besides, maybe she'll teach him something. Don't you like broadening your horizons, Dr. Wolf?"

“This crew…" Lukas muttered, instead of answering the question directly. “To think I was warned."

***

First officer's log, stardate 68086.45

My welcome aboard not-Maddy's ship—I'm just going to call her Jenny, since most of her crew also use that alias—has been uncharacteristically warm. Maybe they were trying to make a good first impression, or maybe the Union is just idiosyncratically unpleasant, or maybe Captain Hatfield's Agamemnon was unusually bad.

No matter what, it's not the strangest crew I've worked with. From a mission perspective, I'm sure we can get this done.

“This is Cori Carpenter, my very best sensor operator." Cori was a youngish vixen with a short-cropped mane but an otherwise conservative outfit for the Powhatan. She nodded her appreciation for the introduction. “She's been looking at the intel your scout brought back."

“And?"

“They've improved their security since the last data we had available. That came from about a year ago. There are more sensor outposts, and several new berths at the orbital control station."

“I believe they're growing… cautious," Jenny said. “Used to be that they just guarded it with a couple of big monitors. They figured the most significant threat would be from someone trying to break in—like me—and they'd want to have coverage in orbit to put as much firepower as they could on the ground."

Now, the Akita explained, they were turning their attention outwards—more concerned with an attack on the Udolga outpost's orbital spaceport. If the mining operations were interrupted, it would severely hinder the Union's ability to produce antimatter. And anyone who could hijack the mine's output would have gained a significant advantage for their own production.

“There's lots of groups who might not be able to mount a serious operation deep in Union territory, but would love to take a nibble at a target like Udolga. Probably why they've beefed up the garrison."

“I see signs of eight Vindicator-class frigates—fast chasers, meant to harass capital ships." Cori pointed their location out on the map, spread in a loose constellation around the planet. “They can respond quickly, giving what looks like these two support cruisers parked near the orbital station itself time to get into position and provide cover with missiles and long-range beam weapons."

“You see the opportunity, right?" Jenny asked.

“You'd be vulnerable to the frigates." Dave did his best to guess, based on the knowledge that the Powhatan had once been a cargo ship and was unlikely to maneuver well. “They could dance circles around you. The Dark Horse would be…"

Jenny gave her own conclusion before he could think of the right words. “An interesting target."

“Threatening enough that they'd have to respond," he clarified. “Then, if Captain May draws them off, you could jump in and take on the station—and whatever defenses they've left there."

“You and me," the Akita said, wagging her finger between herself and Dave to make the object of her statement apparent. “We're like… two things that go well together, and have the same ideas."

“What makes you think they'll take the bait?"

She leaned back, lolling her head towards her first mate. “Not a bad question. Marian?"

The cheetah didn't seem terribly concerned. “We'll have to find something that would make them a juicy target. Maybe we could fuck with their transponder codes. The good thing about that ship being so fucking old is that nobody's gonna know what it is when they first see it."

“They're mercs or something, right?" Cori asked. “I assume they got that hulk out of a salvage yard… I've certainly never seen a design like that. Their hull looks like it's made out of some 26th-century alloy… back when most of the ships still had sails."

As far as the Star Patrol was concerned, this description of the Dark Horse wasn't too far off the mark. “More or less," he said.

“Marian and Cori? Come up with something good," Jenny ordered, and then pointed to the retriever. “You, I'm going to show to your quarters."

That turned out to be a rather shorter walk than he'd anticipated. Also, the quarters did not seem to have been furnished for a guest. They seemed, given the clothing hanging in the closet, including the pirate's familiar scarf, to have been furnished for the captain. “ My quarters?"

“We don't have many visitors. Besides, I'd like you to make yourself… comfortable. Feel free to take off your clothes. You're not going back for a bit."

“Why… not?" Ayenni had suggested that the pirate captain had less than proper designs on him. At the time, the suggestion was a bit unreasonable, even given her telepathic insight. And it had stayed unreasonable, through all the tactical planning and right up until the point that she was smirking at him. “What's that look for?"

“You're cuter than I was expecting like this. First mate—imagine that! What do you think that look is for?"

“You… you're surprised that I wasn't expecting to be confined to quarters," he decided to propose, picking an explanation that made her smirk less salacious. “Because it should have been obvious to me that you wouldn't want me to witness your tactical preparations. In case I witnessed something sensitive… is that it?"

“There you go." Her laughter, something of a guffaw, was the vocal equivalent of the smirk. “I am going to go back to work—no need for you to learn everything about how much intel we've boosted from those Union idiots. Right?"

“Operational security is very important," Dave said, and tried not to look too much as though he was thinking: wait, I was right? She was being innocent all along? “It's what we'd do on the Dark Horse. Stands to reason."

“ Exactly. Now, stay here, and think pleasant thoughts about what else you have to teach me."

“In what—" And he did not finish 'sense,' because the Akita gave his crotch a squeeze, winked, and used the confusion that followed to make her exit.

The door, as she'd intimated, was locked.

***

“We'll be playing the role of a commerce raider trying to sneak past their defenses. The Sovremenny is as obsolete in this universe as it is in ours. It's reasonable to assume that an example might've fallen into the wrong hands."

Jack Ford was playing the role Dave usually did in staff meetings, serving as a sounding board for the Akita and helping to refine her thoughts. “Meaning?"

Maddy hated to admit how much fun the other Akita's idea seemed like it was liable to be. “Meaning, we're going to act like a trading ship, requesting permission to dock. Dave says that they can get us forged identification papers. They'll hold up under… reasonable inspection."

But the Dark Horse wasn't going to be on any list of incoming vessels, and the Union patrol ships would want a closer look. And, eventually, the ruse would be uncovered.

“There is a gamble. The gamble is that they only send out one or two patrol vessels, initially. If they do that, their first hit is going to disable our FTL drive."

Captain Ford saw the intent at once. “And then we go from 'commerce raider' to 'bird with an injured wing.' Draw them away from the station…"

“Their weapons are fairly powerful, ma'am." Leon Bader was not much for subterfuge, especially not the kind that involved being shot at. “I don't think they're going to fire many warning shots, and we're not going to want to take many of the non-warning variety."

“Probably not. My thinking is that, initially, they're going to want us alive. We'll be unusual—they won't want to completely destroy the ship until they have to. And, by that point, the Powhatan should've arrived, and they'll have more problems to deal with."

This wasn't, as it happened, entirely her thinking: it had been provided by the pirate captain, who understood the rules of her universe better than anyone in the Star Patrol. But, once it had been explained, Captain May saw the wisdom in the idea.

“Mr. Shamrock? What do you think?" she prompted.

Unlike Dave, Jack was willing to accept a solution that involved fighting at face value, and start thinking about the specifics. “We can cover you, no problem. We'll run interference with the scouts." The intel he'd been given about the patrol frigates didn't suggest they had much in the way of anti-fighter weapons. “I'd like to have the Tempest aloft, too. Keep her cloaked as long as possible, and just get the sensor feed piped into our network."

“Can you have all three ships ready to launch in, say… twelve hours?"

“Sure. Warrant Rocha's back on duty—between them and Mitti Torres, we can get the Tempest turned around from the last op. No big deal."

“You're not going to have Torres."

Mx. Rocha was new to the Tempest, and as CAG, Ford would rather have had Mitti to assist Commander Munro. But the maned wolf was enthusiastic, and familiar with Star Patrol engineering—and there couldn't be that much work, surely. The coyote shrugged. “We'll make it happen. What's Torres doing?"

“Preparing to override the planetary comms network. 'Jenny'"—Maddy still added a bit of emphasis when she used the alias, even if calling the pirate 'Captain May' would've been even more confusing—“has a message she wants to send."

“Do we know what that is?"

“Not word-for-word. And even if she gives us something, I wouldn't count on it being what she's actually planning on saying. The gist of it, though, is that she wants to give them a chance to surrender."

“You think she will?"

“Or make us all fools, yeah."

***

Dave had not considered the possibility that Jenny intended to make fools of them. There had not been time: the Dark Horse would lose its opportunity to return to their own universe in a matter of days.

The pirate captain also worked fast, although she seemed to have her own reasons, which she kept close to her chest. This concerned the retriever, of course, but it didn't imply to him that she was going to sabotage the mission. If anything, she was eager to get started:

“I hope we're all ready. Marian, are we ready?"

“We're ready. All sections heads have reported in."

Jenny cracked her knuckles. “Red alert! Lock down the ship. Mr. Grigsby, stand by to exit hyperspace and prepare for immediate combat maneuvering."

Her helmsman was a gruff otter and one of the older members of the crew. He looked over his shoulder at her, giving her a weary glare. “You've got a new Dave and suddenly I'm 'Mr. Grigsby'?"

“Figured I'd add a touch of class. Dave: get your useless ass in gear and tell me when we're cleared for transition."

The otter held one paw above his head, giving a thumbs-up, and turned back to his station. “Cleared."

“Do it." Immediately the bridge filled with the sound of alarms. “Nice. Shields up! Get me targets—now!"

“Multiple contacts. The Dark Horse is engaged, cap'. Bearing 0-2-5, on our level, twelve hundred kilometers. Four Union frigates. No, make that five."

“Where's the rest of the picket?"

“Two cruisers and their support ships are still guarding the station."

The Akita cocked her head, staring into the viewscreen, searching the tactical display. “Hey, New Dave. How long can your ship hold off those frigates?"

“Based on the last time we fought?" Skimming the data he could make out, the Dark Horse's shields were in good order, although her opponents were nimble enough that Eli Parnell seemed to be having trouble getting a firing solution for their particle cannons, which meant nobody was capable of hitting one another. “Maybe indefinitely. But they'll have to get lucky to do much damage in exchange."

“Good. Good…" She still seemed to be distracted, and Dave couldn't tell if it was what she saw on the viewscreen or if something else had taken her thoughts. Presently the Akita leaned over, muttering something to her first mate.

Almeida's tailtip lashed once, and she nodded. “Perhaps."

“Don't 'perhaps' me." Jenny winked. “Port helm, bearing 3-5-5, down twenty. Ahead flank. We're going to come up and engage those frigates from their rear quarter."

“Yes, ma'am. Adjusting course."

“Good. Anthony, ready firing solutions."

Anthony, a burly wolf, gave his own gruff acknowledgment. “Weapons range in six minutes."

“It'll be longer than that," the captain said. “They're moving away from us. But I'll take it. Any sign that those cruisers are planning to do a goddamned thing? Cori, talk to me."

“They're standing by for now, at least," answered the vixen. “Their weapons and tactical scanners are definitely active, but we're at the far edge of their ability to even hit us. I think—Tony?"

“Agreed. We'll barely touch the outer arc of their x-ray cannons. With the dispersion, they're not going to bother wasting the energy."

Jenny drummed her fingers on the armrest of her chair. “Probably planning on running, in that case. They can't be dumb enough to think they'd win a fight with both of us. I don't think so, anyway. How dumb are Union officers?"

Nobody answered. In the silence, Cori cleared her throat. “Four minutes to weapons range, cap'."

“That was a general question, you know," Jenny continued, as if she hadn't heard the update. “I could make it more specific, if you want. Anthony, how dumb are Union officers?"

“I don't know. Pretty dumb?"

“Even the undercover ones?"

Nobody answered that, either. The Akita's head twitched. Before Dave realized what was going on, Marian Almeida had stood, turned, and drawn something from her hip. There was a flash, the hiss of disturbed air, and then a thud.

Jenny sighed, although she couldn't have been too disappointed—given her lack of any apparent surprise. “Ms. Carpenter, please take the tactical station."

The vixen, who was surprised, stammered. “Uh…"

“Field promotion. Do it now, Cori."

“Uh—aye-aye, captain." She scrambled across the bridge to the suddenly vacant console. “Done. I think I can log in—yes. Ready!"

“Full power to the forward ion batteries. Target a spread of antiship missiles, maximum dispersion, at the coordinates marked on screen. You may fire when ready. And Dave—old Dave— helm Dave—get ready to change course in a hurry, if you'd be so kind. Rig the inertial dampeners for a high-g maneuver in that direction."

“Firing," Cori announced. “Impact in 25 seconds."

“We're compensated for another… 4 gee. Any time you want."

“He's also a good Dave," Jenny told Commander Bradley, loud enough for the pilot to hear. “And now we wait for those missiles to hit. Few more seconds… almost there… hey! Would ya look at that?"

“New contacts!" Cori yelped. “A Imperial-class dreadnought and three destroyers. They—"

“ That's more like it."

“—Weren't moving before—I don't—I'm not sure how I missed them. They must've had some kind of cloaking device active."

“Must've done. I'll take that new course now. Engage at will, Cori. Focus on the battleship—try to knock out their firing coordinators before we get close enough for the short-range cannons to do any damage."

Marian Almeida had sat back down; she secured her harness with a grunt. “Those destroyers are going to try flanking us. Their torpedoes will be pretty fuckin' close to the minimum engagement range of our point-defense grid."

“I know. We'll take one pass at the dreadnought and then…"

“Stay focused," Bradley said. “Harass the destroyers with your secondary batteries."

Scowling, Almeida shook her head. “Won't do shit."

“Not directly. But it'll knock out some of their torpedoes and keep them on their toes until the Dark Horse shows up."

“They're occupied, in case you didn't notice."

“They won't be," Bradley declared. He had a good sense of what the fighting looked like from the more familiar Akita's point of view, and he was pretty certain he could guess how she'd respond.

Jenny's eyes flicked between the two. “Why not?"

“She can see the same battle as you. The frigates and her are in a turning stalemate. But if she disengages, she'll get at least one clean run at the—"

The Powhatan shuddered under a barrage of impacts that briefly darkened the lighting on the bridge. “Port deflectors are holding—for now," Cori told them. “But we're in range of everything that battleship has."

“Target their scanners," Jenny reminded her. “Try to blind 'em. You were saying, New Dave?"

Bradley started from the last salient point he'd been able to make: “She'll get one clean run at the destroyers, at least enough to do some real damage with our particle cannons."

Almeida looked extremely skeptical. “Before this turns into a furball, too."

“Yes. Where we're outnumbered."

“You say that like it's a good thing. Shit, there it is—the battleship just woke up. We've got incoming! Cori, counterfire on that bearing! Jenny, we need to prepare evasive maneuvers if those torpedoes get through the defense screen."

“Hold up, Marian." The pirate captain's brow had furrowed. “He's right. Mr. Grigsby, keep us pointed at that dreadnought. Hit that fucking thing with everything we've got."

“But the torp—"

“ Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead!"

***

“They're taking significant fire," Jamie said; the cougar could, in fact, barely make out the contours of the Powhatan beneath the glare of their deflector shields.

Maddy knew that she tended to be impulsive. Dave was better at thinking tactically, and she wished he was there on the bridge to offer advice. Dave would tell her… what would he tell me? the Akita pondered. He'd tell me that… that the Powhatan is a converted freighter, not a match for even that dreadnought, and the destroyers are…

A match for the Dark Horse, for certain, probably. They seemed to be heavily armed. If they could get a good angle on the Powhatan, they'd be able to wrap things up and come straight for her own ship. Then it would be—

“Lieutenant Parnell, break off at the next opportunity you have and make for the Powhatan. Maximum thrusters—everything you have."

Eli had spent the last few minutes thinking in four dimensions, trying to plot a twisting course that would keep the frigates chasing them from being able to fire on the cruiser. That did, at least, mean she knew when the next 'opportunity' was. “Yes, ma'am. But if we're not evading, they'll start hitting us."

“Until we're out of range. Lieutenant Bader, pick your favorite destroyer and agree on an intercept course with Parnell. Hit them with everything you can."

“Yes, ma'am," the German Shepherd said—as Parnell had done—although he was also concerned about keeping their shields up 'until' the frigates could no longer inflict any damage. “Increasing power to our rear deflectors.'

Captain May trusted the pair. She had other things to do, first. “Jack, I'm going after the destroyers that just woke up. Can you guys get in position to help with targeting?"

The coyote's reply followed a few seconds of silence. His voice was slightly strained. “Yes. It's gonna be rough, captain."

“I know. We're leading the frigates into this, too. Can't be helped, but it's at least going to mean we're outnumbered."

“You say that like it's… ah. Ah. Their firing arcs are going to be a lot more restricted than ours. Okay. We'll keep clear of your bow. I can't guarantee anything about the Powhatan."

“Just do your best."

Jamie Meyer had the closest thing to a front-row seat, watching the pirate ship come off an attack run and slowly circle back around, keeping its attention on the dreadnought. If the destroyers noticed the Dark Horse's approach, they didn't change plans.

Leon, who was looking for the most vulnerable target, saw the same thing, and guessed that the Union probably figured they could finish the engagement in only another minute or two. It wasn't a bad guess; the Powhatan was at a serious disadvantage.

A chance, he figured, for one more broadside. If it didn't knock the battleship out of the fight, the Powhatan would be forced to surrender. Assuming pirates over here are a 'surrendering' type, he thought.

***

“Now or never," Jenny said. “Mr. Grigsby…"

“Gravitic compensators ready. Auxiliary power is being diverted to structural integrity." The dreadnought was extremely close now, firing at the Powhatan with even the light point-defense systems, as if she feared being rammed. “Four hundred kilometers..."

“First broadside at two-fifty. Give 'em the second as soon as you can. Cori will tell you."

“Five seconds," the weapons officer called. “Three. Two. Firing. Mark!"

The sense Dave had was that the retriever's stomach had suddenly been removed from inside his body, and was now somewhere else—perhaps outside the hull. The helmsman shouted something in answer, and then the vixen said she was firing again, and—

***

“What the fuck?" Maddy started to rise from her chair in shock, only to be arrested by her harness. “What did they just do?"

“Disabled the dreadnought, for one," Leon Bader said. The shepherd, also, was at a loss to explain how the Powhatan seemed to have gotten off two broadsides in the space of half a second. “Their shields are down and they're losing life support. The Powhatan is moving to engage the remaining ships, although they've also taken heavy damage."

“We're almost in range," Eli Parnell reminded him. “Framing in ten on contact Mistral-6, lieutenant. Unlimited on that primary."

“Right." Leon shook his head to clear it, promising himself that he'd review the telemetry of the battle later. “Weapons hot. Captain?"

“Do it."

“Switch interlock… firing," the shepherd announced, as soon as he had control of the ship's course. The destroyers, Mistral-6 among them, had apparently been as surprised as everyone else by the sudden demise of their flagship. “Interlock released. Good effects on target. Their weapons just went offline."

“I think their reactor might've scrammed," Jamie Meyer added. “The other ships are breaking off. We're picking up a transmission from the planet, directed at the Powhatan."

“Can we listen in?"

“Yes, ma'am. Give me a moment to patch it into our systems…"

“—speaking to her." That was Jenny's by-now familiar voice. “What are you asking?"

The next one was a male, Terran and any familiarity was obscured by its plaintive tone. “I'm sure you can confirm that the garrison is withdrawing. We'd like to discuss the terms of our surrender."

“Ah, I see. Denied."

“What? There are no defenders left here! I just said that! What do you mean?"

“I'm not discussing surrender with you."

“Please! Whoever you are, you can't—"

“Oh, you know who I am."

There was a pause, during which they could feel the administrator's discomfort growing. “Madison?"

“We're not on a first-name basis, asshole."

“Mad—er—your… your majesty? Please, you can't—"

“Better. Not enough. Goodbye."

The channel closed, just-like-that; Meyer's console flashed to alert the bridge crew toe another incoming message. “Signal from the Powhatan, ma'am. They're asking if we're ready."

“Are we?"

“Main engineering says we are, ma'am. Yes."

“Well, no reason to hold back now, right? Go ahead." Maddy knew enough not to think that the next part would be dramatic: there was, after all, nothing particularly photogenic or interesting about uploading a virus to the planet's communication network.

Jamie eyed her console, waiting for confirmation. “Done. The Powhatan is transmitting now. Here, let me patch in the audio…"

“Good day." They, along with everyone else in the system, heard Jenny's voice again. “Consider the Udolga prison complex… liberated. I am currently on the other side of the planet, having destroyed the flotilla 'protecting' you. When I complete my next orbit, I will fire on—and also destroy—every factory, every shield generator, every guardhouse, and every operational starship in the complex."

She paused, presumably to let that sink in, before continuing: “Now, I know that Union protocol demands that you execute the remaining prisoners rather than surrender them to my authority. Please consider: you have twenty minutes until the prison comes up over my horizon. That is to say, you have a maximum of twenty minutes' head start to take off and get into hyperspace before I shoot you down.

“If you leave without fuss—and if you are allowed to leave without fuss—you just might make it out of this alive. If you follow the Union's scorched-earth self-destruct orders, there is no way you will not find yourself in range of my cannons. And trust me: I will enjoy taking my revenge much, much more than you will enjoy receiving it. Ciao, friends."

Jamie Meyer coughed. “Transmission ends."

Maddy had to admit a certain appreciation for her counterpart's commanding demeanor, if not necessarily the ends to which it was employed. “Lieutenant Bader, summarize the tactical situation. Are there any other ships engaged?"

“It's just the two of us now, ma'am. The remaining warships in the orbital complex have broken away and are moving at high speed towards an open hyperspace trajectory. The dreadnought, one destroyer, and one frigate are apparently too badly damaged to do so—they're transmitting a distress call on local and FTL bands."

“How long to recover the scout ships if we need to make our own escape? Ms. Meyer?"

“Fifteen minutes or so, if we recall them immediately."

She thought it over carefully. “Bring them in close, but don't dock them. For now, let's keep an eye on the planet's surface. As soon as we're in range of the complex, tell me what's going on."

***

“They'll run," Almeida said, shrugging. “They're cowards."

“Stand down from red alert. Cori, load the pre-briefed coordinates into our cannons, but hold fire on the salvo until I tell you otherwise." Jenny leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “Not too bad, all things considered…"

“Damage reports?" David asked.

“Such a professional." She tilted her head back until she was looking at her first mate, but upside-down. “Marian?"

“Primary hull breaches. Nothing's compromised the secondary. But we've got damaged inertial generators and blown power conduits all over. Auxiliary power only, from frame 30 all the way to the afterpeak. Repair teams are on it."

“He's going to kill me," the Akita said. Still craning back, she punctuated the assertion with a grin. “One of these days, for sure. You think a cut of the spoils from the prison will keep him happy?"

The cheetah shrugged again. “Depends on how much ore they've really processed. It might. He has simple needs."

“Our chief engineer," Jenny finally explained, straightening in her seat. “It was his idea, too, so I don't think it's fair to blame me."

“For?"

“This used to be a freighter, right? We have a dozen transverse cargo bays, with cargo-grade gravitic compensators. Chief Engineer Everett suggested we rig them to draw the ship's mass inwards."

“Why?"

“Because that's instantaneous. Well, almost—faster than we can change our spin with the thrusters."

Suddenly he realized where his stomach had gone. “All that rotational inertia… you can roll the ship in the blink of an eye and get off a second shot…"

“Second shot, and a fresh shield angle to whoever's shooting at us. The only thing is that it does cause severe stress to the hull when we do that. Everett didn't expect we'd actually use his invention, I think—more the fool he, am I right?"

“The first time we did it, we flung a 600-kilo chunk of hull armor out like a goddamned trebuchet," Almeida said. Her grin, as he'd come to expect, was sharper and more dangerous than her captain's. “But hey, taught us to do a better job securing the plates to the hull. And we nearly took out the ship we were fighting from the kinetic impact alone."

“That's why you don't underestimate me." Jenny tapped her claws impatiently on her armrest. “Speaking of which, where are we on that damned prison, Cori. Ready to shoot?"

“No more than three minutes. Uh, there are some signals coming from the surface, though. Infrared, mostly. Ships getting into high atmo as quick as they can, that's what it looks like. I think I'm seeing some hyperdrives being powered up."

“Cowards, like Marian said. Nothing on the surface though? Nobody's shooting down there?"

“No."

“They built this whole city," the Akita reflected aloud. “This whole monument to keeping people locked up. Like none of them would ever escape. And like if any of them ever escaped, nobody'd want to come back…"

She trailed off, and said nothing else. Dave watched the planet, rolling beneath them as they completed their orbit towards the first firing solutions. “You did," he guessed. “Is that what's going on?"

“Nah. They've never been stupid enough to try that with me. But I bet the administrator wishes he had. Fucking asshole empire-builder—stab somebody in the back just to scratch together a little quid-pro-quo… you get promoted to run one of these colonies, and you get to keep all the profit you make from whatever they do."

“Not any more."

“No," Jenny agreed, although her grin had faded to something angrier. “Not any more. Cori, have they abandoned the complex?"

“It looks like it. I'm not reading any life signs in the supporting structures. We're coming into range, captain. Should I transfer authority to your station?"

Her muzzle was tense for several seconds. “Mm. No," she finally decided, and her smile returned. “Nah. Catharsis was hearing that son of a bitch beg. Take 'em out at your leisure, Cori. Hit the pre-briefed targets first. Next orbit, go after anything that looks like it'd blow up good. I'll be in my quarters. Dave has some questions for me."

“I do?"

“You will," she promised. “On second thought, I should check in with the engineers, first, but… well… you know the way, don't you? Run along."

***

Dave sat on the edge of the bed, and planned the next few hours out in his mind. It was a six-hour journey to the rendezvous; from there, another eight aboard the Dark Horse, back to the aperture that would return them to their own universe.

Which means that you only need to hold out another six hours, really. Jenny hadn't gotten much more sleep than he had. So even if she was serious, the retriever figured, whatever plan the Akita was cooking up would not have the opportunity to come to fruition. She would be tired. The only thing she could want was—

The door slid open with a quiet hiss, and Jenny stepped through. Her grin was sharp, and did not imply a great deal of tiredness. She shrugged her jacket off, and held it up to the wall until it fixed itself into place with some kind of magnetic clasp.

Then, still wearing the rest of her clothes—and her holster—she stalked like a predator across the room, and bent down to lock eyes with the other dog. “We did good work, huh?"

“I hope so. You got what you wanted out of it, at least."

Jenny rolled her eyes. Her nose nearly touched his own. “Not yet."

“I'm not certain—"

She pressed closer, and their lips met. And when Dave leaned back, she followed him, until the retriever was flat on the bed and her warm weight had settled on him. The kiss, such as it was, had already broken. Without seeking to resume it, she touched her nose to his, and lowered her voice. “Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

He swallowed heavily. “I haven't thought about it."

Jenny adjusted her weight, adding a provocative pressure at the retriever's crotch. “Don't lie and tell me you haven't thought about it—how's that?"

“Things are… different… where I'm from," he said, although he was painfully aware of how close he was to the Akita—to someone who looked, whisker-for-whisker, like his own captain. A little less fastidious, a little more nicked, and a lot more mischievous… but his captain, nonetheless.

“Different," she echoed. Her hips shifted again, and Dave briefly thought about how fortunate he was that the pirate queen—unlike Ayenni—could not read minds. He hoped.

“We're friends. Colleagues."

“In that case, if it's 'different' where you're from…" Her voice trailed off, and he felt her paw wander down his side. Far more intimately, it went without saying, than Maddy had ever dealt with him. “Do you not have a saying like: 'when in Rome?'"

“We do." The problem was that there was something about the Akita. Or about her quarters. Or about his state of mind. If he could not feel his resolve faltering, exactly, he could feel how it would falter. “But…"

Maddy, he thought, always gets what she wants. And generally, he did not mind this, because the things she wanted were uncontroversial. Her counterpart was not so uncontroversial, nor so innocent. But she was equally insistent, and equally demanding…

Equally likely to get her way, he knew, which was a tempting excuse to giving up his resistance. How the fuck did Ayenni know was going to happen? There was a slight movement, and the paw that had been stroking him was undoing the straps of the Akita's holster, instead.

She set her tools aside, without paying too much attention, because in no circumstance was Dave going to free himself at gunpoint. Especially since, now that her shirt was free, she began to open it up instead. Close as she was, all but pressed to the golden retriever, he felt the movements that unfastened the garment, and caught how her scent gradually became less subtle.

Perhaps it was that.

There were more sounds. Jenny's head had canted. She was looking at him. She was looking at him expectantly, now half-sat up, her shirt open all the way past her breasts. “Dave?" she asked.

“What?"

“You said 'but,' and then I said 'but what,' and then you didn't answer. Are you… distracted?"

Her shirt hung off one shoulder, and her bra was exposed on that side enough for him to see where her nipple poked against its fabric. “Yes," he admitted. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his thoughts, but as the Akita's presence filled his muzzle with its problematically enticing smell, steadiness receded into the distance. “Of course I'm distracted."

“I noticed. Might as well keep going." Then Dave, himself noticed that his paws had framed her sides, just above her pants. His thumbs were tantalizingly close to unclad fur, if only he…

Jenny preempted the decision by pulling her shirt the rest of the way open, and then his fingers were in her pelt. And she was sitting back, her bra falling away—her breasts bare, the clean white broken by the dusky pink of invitingly pert flesh.

Over the years of their friendship—and in particular aboard the Dark Horse—he'd only really seen Madison in her uniform, and the Star Patrol had not bothered to make those particularly flattering. They did not, for instance, show off the Akita's chest. More than a handful, Dave thought, and then:

That is an extremely inappropriate thing for me to be noticing, and then:

I am going to find out.

Not immediately. Her curled tail intermittently visible as a twitching blur behind her, Jenny leaned forward again. She was muttering something into his ear, and all Dave could really focus on was his muzzle, pressed into the plush fur of her shoulder, and how good she smelled.

“That's more like it," she told him, her voice increasingly husky, more or less the same time Dave realized she'd given him an order he was reflexively fulfilling, pushing her pants down and over the curve of her rump. He could grope her—the Akita gasped—

He had groped her. And then he did it again. She was not as trim as Maddy, not as dedicated to a perfected martial appearance, and so it was not exactly as if he was feeling up his own captain, was it? Some other dog with a dark mask and keen eyes.

Some other dog he was no longer able to resist as his growing desire for her mounted, and she tugged at his uniform. He was helping her, even, tearing the fabric off and away, and taking the cue from how she pushed at his shoulder that he should scoot further up on the bed.

Jenny had knelt on the edge of it. She glanced between his legs, and Dave followed her gaze. There should not have been any particular surprise—he was most of the way erect already, the jutting flesh stiff and obscenely pink against his soft golden fur. She reached out to brush her finger over his cock, gathering the trickle of precum that had started to appear.

“Hmm," she said.

He would wonder, later, if she was a telepath of some sort after all. He did not ask her to clarify the sound. She did not prompt him further. She just pulled herself into her bed, swinging her leg over the retriever to straddle his chest and bending forward.

His vision was totally obscured by the dark fur of her thighs, and the sight of her cutely curled tail. And the lips of her sex, slightly parted by the Akita's stance, damp and agonizingly obvious as the source of the musky spice that all but consumed the dog's thoughts now.

It wouldn't have taken but the slightest effort for him to raise his head and bring his muzzle between her legs, but again it proved unnecessary—as she adjusted her own position she pushed her hips back, meeting his open mouth and ready tongue.

He ran it along every centimeter she exposed to him, letting her taste spread out, an unfamiliar but tantalizing tang. Then he was lapping at her, working his tongue deeper, hearing her moan and feeling the wash of disturbed air as her tail wagged faster.

And then he groaned, because his cock was suddenly engulfed in wet, sucking heat. Nearly the whole of his length—Jenny had not felt the need to start things off slowly. Had he not been so captivated by the Akita's taste he might've lost focus altogether.

But he was captivated, and dutiful. And hungry, his tongue slipping into her pussy, nuzzling closer to be rewarded with a shudder of her hips, and a pleased moan he could feel rippling over the cock she'd stuffed her muzzle with. Dave was no longer thinking anything like: Maddy would never let this happen.

He was thinking that if the pirate tried to hold him on her ship, he might agree if he could spend every minute of it between her legs. He concentrated on the inviting bud of her clit for several lingering seconds, flicking his tongue until she shuddered again, and the bobbing movements of her head on his cock halted.

Dave kept lapping, hearing claws drag shakily over the sheets, and her huffing breath becoming ragged. He was aware that she'd regained the presence of mind to start sucking him off again only when a wave of pleasure washed over him, centered right on the warm pressure bathing his cock.

Pleasure that, he distantly knew, was rising precipitously. He could feel her swallowing more frequently as he splashed her palate with preseed… it wouldn't take too much to finish, to shoot himself down her throat so he could go back to eating her out… to—

The other dog whined, catching him off guard, and pushed herself off him. She struggled to catch her breath, then gave up, growling and twisting around with a deceptive litheness despite her solid form. Her muzzle was at his, stealing a fierce kiss before she drew back with a predatory grin. “Playtime's over. You're still distracted?"

From what was about to happen? Never. “Not anymore, no."

“What do you want?" Her eyes had narrowed. He could feel her breath.

He could also feel her warmth, achingly close to the twitching tip of his cock, drooling pre down and onto his fur. “You," he admitted. “I want to fuck you."

She smirked, reaching between them to guide the retriever's cock into position. Then she settled, and the smirk immediately cracked, giving way to something more primal and satisfied as the Akita dropped her hips, and a silky, slick, wetness sank over him.

He was hilted, throbbing gently in clenching warmth that seemed to have been made for him. Her hips rolled experimentally, her velvety walls shifting and tugging over his buried length, and Dave gave in to the urge to thrust. A short buck, but firm enough that she cried out, muzzle open in carnal bliss.

It took her a moment to regain her poise. “No. I'm in control here. You were all… reluctant," she reminded him teasingly, lifting herself up and then dropping back down slowly, eyes rolling back as his shaft filled her again. “Not your idea."

“Wasn't," he admitted. Dave knew that he, himself, was not going to be capable of complex sentences like that. “Some kinda—kinda— spell." The last word was a groan, forced from him by a firmer grind of the Akita's strong hips.

She rolled her eyes, put her paws on his shoulders… and then ignored the accusation, starting to rock her body in earnest. Jenny rode him eagerly, pumping herself on his cock in a tellingly purposeful tempo that started swift and grew even faster.

He had to resist the urge to buck up at her—when he did she growled, her claws digging in until he settled back down, and let her dictate her pace. On the other hand, it was a pace that was already growing uneven. The neat triangles of her ears swiveled back, and her eyes shut.

She shivered, thighs trembling, a throaty groan catching. He watched the commanding, domineering expression fade a heartbeat before she whimpered… slammed herself down hard on him, grinding forcefully… then cried out, shuddering, legs gripping either side of his hips.

Even through her desperate squirming he could sense the rippling around his cock, an intermittent clenching that lasted a solid half-minute. She seemed, too, to be gripping him tighter; it was not until the Akita stopped moving that he realized he was feeling his knot starting to swell in her.

Fuck, I'm going to tie her. The anticipation was strikingly thrilling even before it happened. He was going to sink his cock all the way into the Akita; hold her close to him, grabbing her rear as he flooded her; let that rapture wash over him, emptying himself in her cunt. And you weren't going to let any of this happen. It was to laugh.

Jenny, her panting more or less under control, opened her eyes again. Her nose touched his. “You think it's your turn?" she asked.

“Yes." He wasn't sure how much his knot had swollen, but when he started to thrust up and into her the Akita grunted, and one of her paws moved in an instant from his shoulder to his hips, pushing down heavily. “Hey!"

“You sure you're thinking straight? Not just, y'know, under my spell?"

“Fuck," he managed to get out through gritted teeth, losing the battle not to try another thrust that ended the same way as the last one. “I am perfectly—I am thinking very straight."

“Yeah? What's your name?"

Whatever you want it to be. “David. David Corwin Bradley. Serial number—"

“Stop." She bit his muzzle to silence him. “If you're doing numbers, try this: how many fingers am I…" She started to lift her paw, and then appeared to realize that it would deprive her of her control over the dog. “How many lights are there on the ceiling of this room?"

“Eh? Four."

Jenny bit him a second time. “Try again."

She was squirming on him, knowing she was doing it—letting him feel his cock nudging against her from within, and his knot pushing at her lips. On the other hand, he was still able to count: “there are four lights, Jenny."

“I think you'll find there are five, Dave."

“No? Only four."

“You know, you're not doing a good job of demonstrating your—"

He bucked up, hard, and her paw slipped. She draw a sharp breath as his knot slid into her—he could hear that even over his own involuntary growl—but if she'd actually intended to keep him from a proper tie she didn't try to stop him when he pulled back and drove himself into her again.

She was going to run out of chances to do that fast, anyway. The next thrust, he managed to pull his cock free. The time after that, he didn't even bother, rutting up and into her in short, uneven hitches while the pressure around his shaft built and he locked himself in her cunt.

Jenny fell forward, letting Dave pump himself swiftly against her, her heated gasps filling his ears. And—her admonition to the contrary notwithstanding—as he lost control and his tempo grew erratic and desperate, she panted a hoarse: “there you go! Let me have it!"

Dave wrapped his arms around her lower back, hugging her close as climax seized him. He pushed up, hard, his feet fighting for purchase as he strove to get himself as deep as he could in the Akita. He did not consciously perceive this, or Jenny's giddy yelp when he did so.

All he cared about in that moment was of the incredibly satisfying sensation of his tension— yielding, as a convulsion of pleasure, with the seed he planted in her in a strong, hot gush. Grunting, muzzle drawn, he spent himself in the Akita in one heated pulse after the next.

She kept up a steady stream of broken, panted encouragement into his ear, which he only dimly processed as language. Then she bit him, which he did process; by that point he was starting to relax, fighting to get his own breath back and having quite the time of it.

“Back with me?" she asked. He couldn't tell if the wetness he sensed on his ear was from her lapping, or if she'd managed to draw blood. “Seeing straight again?"

“Back with you," he said. The Akita's tone, he found, kept him from getting her too confused with his captain, despite their outward similarities in appearance. Maddy would never have behaved in such a fashion… he figured.

“Good. You know, you get very cute when you want to cum. Not much for thinking, but…"

He shut his eyes, and sighed. “There are four lights."

The Akita snickered. Then she twisted, mindful of the tie, so that she could crane her head around to glance up at her ceiling. “Oh. Huh."

“I told you."

“Well, the middle one must've gotten knocked out during the battle. I'll get a damage control team up here. Later." She stretched out, as if working a kink from her muscles. “Mm. I always knew that was gonna be worth it." She was relaxed; her eyes closed. “It's nice to be proven right."

“Ayenni—our doctor—warned me about you."

“That's not true."

He opened his eyes again, and wriggled far enough from the Akita to examine her expression. “What do you mean? You said you weren't a telepath."

“I'm not. But I don't think it was a warning."

I guess it's not like she preyed on me, he had to admit—to himself, at least. “Fine. She bet me that we'd end up having sex."

“You bet against fucking me? I should be hurt by that."

“I bet against it being your aim. We had work to do."

“I can multitask."

But if it had been her aim, then this raised the question of why it had been her aim. Here, Dave worked through the potential reasons, and circled back to a conclusion that should've been obvious from the first time the pirate had boarded the Dark Horse. “Huh."

“Yes?"

“You knew me, didn't you?" For the moment, she remained impassive. “Some version of me."

“What gave you that impression?"

Her drawl, which suggested the question had been unreasonable, did not impress him under the circumstances. “Maybe the tone you used when you said it was 'worth it.'"

Jenny smirked. “First you try to get out of a little sport, and now you can't take a compliment?"

She hadn't denied the accusation, of course, and the most obvious answer hit him at once. “Was I—he… was he the one to betray you? The administrator?"

“Look at that. You didn't recognize his voice?"

“No. But your own voice always sounds strange."

“And he bitches more than you do. I wouldn't have recognized you. I bet your friends didn't, either—it can be one of our little secrets. Unless you're planning on staging a mutiny against your own captain. Are you?"

“No. God, no."

“Smart. Administrator Bradley for sure ain't that… too ambitious for his own good. That was his real problem all along. He's not going to be able to run fast enough to save himself now, though."

“Did you decide to go after Udolga when you learned about Ms. Torres, or when you learned about me?"

She continued smirking, and rubbed at the back of his calf with her foot, shifting as she did so to call attention to where they were still connected. “I might've tried to get you alone no matter what. But it was Torres. The Link refuses to deal with me. I think they believe I am too ambitious for my own good. I'm not."

“No?"

“Just want to stir up trouble. I'm plenty good at that."

“Somehow, that's not surprising."

She answered him with another snicker. “Oh, you have no idea."