CHAPTER 1

 

Real fear gripped Liz now. Her hands were moist and slippery as they clenched the control handles of the auxiliary quasar cannon behind the bridge. Blinking sweat from her eyes, she tried to sight on one of the fast-moving pirate vessels which were converging on her crippled cruiser like hyenas on a stricken antelope back on Earth. The whole ship lurched sickeningly, putting off her aim, as it took another hit. The acrid smell of burning plastic and insulation was sharp. Flaring her delicate nostrils, she tried to find more clean fresh air. Hot under her combat armour, she shifted uncomfortably as a bead of sweat trickled down the curve of her spine and between the cheeks of her bottom. She splayed her legs farther apart to keep her balance on the tilting floor, knowing it was really just a matter of time because the ship couldn't take much more of this punishment.

Although not particularly fearing death itself, capture by these pirates was another matter. Tales of their sadistic barbarity preceded them and this had always been at the back of her mind when on operations in this awful sector of space. Now it was uncomfortably in the forefront. She tried sighting on another of the swarm of ships, mainly to take her mind off her situation, but her concentration lapsed as she considered how she had arrived in this predicament.

She recalled her pride on graduating from the Euro Space Academy of Brussels, back on Earth. Hers were the top marks for the class of 2196 in astrogation, and the highest ever marks for a British girl. There were many who thought that with a face like an actress and a sexy curvy body to match, her long dark hair would be better found gracing the 3D tele - vid screens than a space uniform.

However, Liz was determined to live life to the full in space for a few years. Then, just on her twenty - seventh birthday when she had indeed thought about settling down, she had been made second - in - command of the Solar Federation's newest space cruiser, the Explorer. It was a dream to virtually run such a powerful ship, and especially under the command of its present Captain. She had fallen in love with Harry when he had been her tutor at the academy and, although their relationship had never - then - been consummated, she knew that he loved her too. Now their feelings were their own secret, never to cross into their professional lives. Although they were lovers when on leave, in space it was purely business and Liz won the respect of most of the 100 or so officers and junior ranks below her.

This was Explorer's second long cruise in the virtually lawless Magellan region of space and it was proving just as successful as the first one in stamping out the activities of the pirates. These criminals no doubt felt, due to their vast distance from Earth, that they were above the universal laws of mankind. However it had always been agreed that such laws should apply equally to all who colonised space after the Mesonpower drive was discovered in 2030. This development finally allowed ships to exceed the speed of light and travel vast distances from Earth. Only vessels such as the Explorer could try to bring a measure of lawfulness to the outer regions and prevent the ruthless murders, hijacking of raw materials, black market, and hostage - taking.

Explorer had been more successful than most previous ships in trying to curb the barbarous activities of the pirates. At 400 metres and 10,000 tonnes it was far bigger than most and its armaments could devastate any known opposition. Both Liz and Harry had heard rumours of 'wanted' signs with their pictures on them springing up on the outer worlds, but had felt safe within the mighty walls and defensive shields of their ship. They had not counted on the sabotage during their last overhaul which had disabled some of her vital systems whilst more than two weeks away from the nearest help. Nor had they foreseen the armada of small pirate ships which had been waiting for them in a pre - arranged ambush whilst they were answering a distress call from a nonexistent cruise liner.

Liz was suddenly jerked back to the present when a blast of scorching air nearby sent her crashing to her knees, protected only by the thick insulation of her body armour and helmet. She thought it must be the end, and visions of Harry drifted into her mind. She desperately wanted to be with him one last time and began to ease herself to her feet to get to the bridge where he had been trying to fly the crippled ship. Suddenly, however, the metallic floor vibrated around her, announcing someone's arrival.

Liz looked up expecting to see some of her crewmen but was shocked to find herself staring down the barrel of a needle - beam gun held by a space-suited figure. A gruff male voice addressed her from the impersonal helmet towering over her.

"Surrender or die, it's over."

Unthinking, Liz tried to lunge at him but, too late, she sensed the movement of someone else behind her. The crack of a stun gun was the last thing she heard before darkness enveloped her.

 

***

 

When her senses returned she found herself lying uncomfortably on a floor, still in her space armour but devoid of any weapons. Loops of thin but tough wire bound her hands behind her, the tightness virtually cutting off her feelings to leave her fingers as useless as tingling cucumbers. Her head ached abominably from the effect of the stun gun - but she knew from past experience that it would soon pass.

She spotted several of her crew lying in a similar predicament, and from the bouncing movement of the floor she guessed they were in a small pirate shuttlecraft. Everyone was anonymous in the suits, unless close enough to read the name flash on the shoulder. To her dismay, though, glancing round from her limited viewpoint, she didn't see Harry's distinctive captain's echelons.

Her stomach churned. Surely they hadn't killed him? A captain would be a good bargaining chip with the Federation. It might be that her own, second - in - command, insignia had spared her when she had tried to fight back at her own capture. Then she realised that in the place of the badge was a jagged hole in her outer suit from the blast of a phaser. She realised that she was lucky to be alive. Or was she....

A terrible bleak emptiness engulfed her. Perhaps Harry had died fighting - as maybe she ought to have done? If he was dead, and at the hands of these savage bastards, she knew that she too wanted to die here avenging him. The uncertainty of his fate gnawed at her - yet she daren't compromise him, or herself, by asking.

Eventually they docked with another craft and Liz began her new life in captivity. As they were herded down corridors to a holding area she saw other prisoners and it gave her hope that Harry might have been on another shuttle. Although their hands were unbound they all had to lie spread - eagled face down on the floor. Their external suit microphones were switched off and sacks were pulled over their helmets to leave them in mute, helpless darkness. She felt so horribly utterly vulnerable. Then she heard several gruff commands from their captors and felt a painful kick until she lay in exactly the position required. She guessed it would be useless to demand humane treatment for her and her crew. Their only hope was total compliance until they could assess the situation. Apart from their surnames on their suits, their captors would have no idea as to the identity or sex of their space - suited prisoners but, as Liz lay obediently immobile, she knew it would only be a matter of time.

Finally hands pulled her to her feet and hustled her along, stumbling and helpless, until the sack was pulled off, restoring her vision in a smallish room containing a man and woman wearing the 'uniforms' of the pirate empire. A pile of discarded space suits and clothing took up one wall. The armed guards who had brought her stood back against the wall but Liz was still daunted by the rough cruel features of the hard - faced captors who now addressed her.

"I'm Lieutenant Tarik. Get the suit off, get everything off, we'll check you before you're taken to planet - fall. Your precious Federation may have planted bugs or sensors on you and try to get you back. Now hurry, get it all off mister."

After removing her gauntlets and unscrewing the helmet, Liz heard raucous laughter as the pirates saw her properly.

"Well, well, we've hit the jackpot, it's Hartley, the second-in-command. I remember her from the posters, and those news broadcasts," announced the man, licking thin lips. "Get it off girl, all off. I've seen articles about you, interviews too. You're the Fed's pin-up. You're supposed to be a looker... Hurry or I'll do it for you."

Despite trying to steel herself, a red flush of shame covered Liz's delicate cheekbones as she divested herself of the bulky suit to finally stand before her captors in her blue one - piece coverall. Suddenly, without the protection of her ship and its awesome technology, the glamorous life of a space crusader had taken a new turn. It was one thing to seek out and destroy pirate ships, punching computer buttons from the safety and insulation of the huge steel ship which had been her home for so many months. However, being face to face with her enemy was entirely different.

She felt terribly, vulnerably afraid. However, she tried to face up to the responsibilities of command.

"Look, I don't know who you are. My name is Elizabeth Hartley. I am Second Officer of the Federation Cruiser, Explorer, and I demand to know how many of my crew are prisoners and what has happened to my Captain--arrgghh."

Liz's brave speech was brought to an abrupt end when one of the guards doubled her up gasping with a blow to her stomach. The pirate lieutenant waited patiently for a few seconds whilst the pretty girl caught her breath. A strand of her long black hair escaped from the tight bun she customarily wore under her space helmet, and fell down to partially cover her exquisite face.

"Prisoners may not talk. You lost all rights when you set out to destroy us free - traders. Not so brave now without your fancy ship, are you? We don't give shit who you were, girl, but you're just a prisoner now, our prisoner. You're not second in command, there's no one to command now. So the number and identity of our prisoners is not your concern. All you have to do now is obey orders, our orders. If you talk again you'll regret it. You'll be questioned later but right now.... take your clothes off."

Although a humble pirate, Tarik would certainly guess how the beautiful woman standing before him would feel. Suddenly she had been stripped of her power, security and status, forbidden even to talk and now was forced to completely and publicly undress before the enemies she had been trained to hunt and kill. A bulge obviously formed at his loins as she looked down to avoid his eyes whilst her hands moved hesitantly to the zipper of her coverall. She stepped out of it to reveal a small white pair of bra and pants. Her hands crossed over her thrusting breasts as she looked up again at her tormentor, hoping that undressing this far would be sufficient. It would be fairly obvious that her flimsy feminine covering was too small to conceal anything, but the brute seemed unwilling to deprive himself of a rare treat. He may have seen the odd news footage of the glamorous Federation commander being interviewed, and some occasional shots of her sunbathing off duty. Now he would no longer have to use his imagination.

"Get it all off ...or do you require assistance?"

The stray lock of her hair flicked across her face as she woodenly shook her head, licking her lips nervously. Then she reached behind her to unclasp her bra, keeping her eyes downcast as she dropped it on the floor before slipping her fingers into the waistband of her tiny thong knickers, bending, and pushing them down her curving, slender limbs with a delicious elastic rustle.

"Undo your hair, let it down," he ordered when she was quite naked before his appraising eyes.

Shoulders heaving, Liz reluctantly reached up to unpin the several clips still holding most of her hair tidily in place. Automatically she shook her head in a feminine gesture, her long tresses cascading delightfully in a dark waterfall over her creamy smooth white shoulders.

Her captor licked his lips in appreciation. Suddenly this previously neutral impersonal figure, looking so capable, almost harsh, with hair pinned up was transformed into a vision of lush, exquisite, femininity.

"Give me your watch, you will not need that any more."

She removed the expensive diamond timepiece Harry had given her last year and handed it to her tormentor, who glanced at it briefly and put it in his pocket.

"Hands on head, legs astride, open your mouth wide; wider than that," he finally ordered.

Tarik whistled softly at the sight before him. His captive was no longer an officer of a predatory space cruiser but simply a naked helpless woman, and an exquisitely beautiful one at that. Below her shoulders, brushed by the cascade of dark hair, thrust a pair of medium sized breasts tipped with red button - hard nipples jutting forward with her hands on head posture. A flat belly led to shapely thighs tapering to slender legs, whilst behind her curved the rounded cheeks of a firm bottom. Making her stand with her mouth ridiculously wide open, to display perfect small white teeth, was presumably to allow anyone to see at a glance if a prisoner had concealed anything there before the search proper. It also added to the victim's feelings of humiliation and total subservience.

Liz stared dead ahead, bare flesh shivering from unaccustomed nudity in such surroundings, lips quivering as her tormentor slowly walked around her, his boots clacking on the metallic floor. All the while, the woman with him smiled, hatchet - faced as she surveyed the spectacle, smoking an evil-smelling cigar. Liz blushed even more profusely when the pirate glanced at her red - painted toenails, vibrant compared to the grey metal of the floor and his large black boots. Those boots casually kicked aside the delicate tiny exotic underwear, which had until so recently snuggled warmly against her feminine intimacies. A silent sob formed within her as she recalled Harry buying her those delicious wisps of lace; never dreaming them being viewed in such circumstances.

She and Harry had been due an off - duty day and had planned to swim together in the Explorer's large swimming pool with its genuine sand forming a secluded cove, an island of tranquillity in a sea of space. A tear formed at the corner of one of her large brown eyes as she realised just how dramatically events had changed since they made those plans. Harry might not even be alive and she was a helpless captive of the pirate empire. She jumped, startled as she felt the man's hand pat her bottom familiarly. How many times had she shouted at or slapped a stranger who had previously dared to do that; and that was when she was fully clothed.

Tarik smiled as the soft globes twitched and flinched under his hand whilst he lightly stroked the silken flesh of her delightfully smooth bottom, tapping lightly. His hands then moved to hold and weigh the cool orbs of her breasts, the nipples springing to erection like red buttons under his rough, hard thumbs.

"You had a lover on board I'd say. Otherwise you wouldn't have bothered to paint your pretty toes and to dress so sexy. Lucky man," he announced shrewdly, with a final pat on her rounded cheeks before addressing his female accomplice. "Check her all over, Sergeant Dork," he crudely emphasised the word.

They must know that Liz had absolutely nothing concealed on her body but, while the man completed the paperwork on her he licked his lips at the sight of his female companion's uncaring hands pulling her this way and that, travelling all over her, prodding, probing.

"You Federation scum killed my husband," the woman announced briskly. "So I'm going to enjoy this."

The bulkhead practically shook as Dork slammed Liz against it, making her lean against it on outstretched hands, kicking her shapely legs wide apart and ordering her to stand just on tiptoe. The woman had a cigar planted firmly in her mouth and its fumes made Liz cough. But Liz dared not object. The coarse hands ran expertly under Liz's hair and through the stray strands on the nape of her swan - like neck. Continuing under her armpits, they slid down her sides, making her shiver, and over the pert cheeks of her bottom. Smiling evilly over her shoulder at Tarik, the woman trailed a finger between the firm globes, seeing them clench under her crawling touch before she pushed past the sphincter muscles into Liz's tiny, secret, passage.

Liz gasped, shuddering as the crude digit filled her. It stretched her so uncomfortably and unnaturally. Then, the other hand moved over the soft down of her dark wiry pubic hair to the ripe womanly lips below, insinuating itself against her. One finger began rubbing in circular motions until her love bud reluctantly grew whilst the other delved into her other warm entrance. She squirmed, dropping onto the soles of her feet until Dork snarled, lips hissing against the soft hair on the nape of her neck, ordering her to strain up again onto tiptoe. When the woman detected the first signs of moisture in the lush warmth of Liz's womanhood, together with the subtle gyration of her hips in unwanted arousal, she immediately withdrew her fingers, laughing crudely.

"She's clean, but the cow was getting to like it," she smirked.

Liz shuddered delicately as she remained leaning against the bulkhead. Her legs quivered with her whole weight resting on tiny painted toes.

"Keep it up .... slag," the woman snapped, painfully slapping the curves of her white bottom.

Without hurry Tarik continued with the paperwork as Dork bawled out her victim for trying to ease down from her aching toes. When he had finished he strolled over to the splayed figure. Her bottom flinched and contracted as his broad palm slapped to add another red splayed imprint on it.

"You're done. Put on your new uniform and you'll be taken to a reception centre at our headquarters. I'll remind you again, no talking whatsoever."

As Tarik spoke, Dork handed Liz a pair of thin striped pyjamas consisting of baggy trousers with string through the waistband and a loose top held by just a couple of buttons. It was a hideous yellow with white stripes, ridiculous and ill fitting, and with no underwear. Having struggled into the garment and tied the string around her waist, Liz's hands were roughly pulled behind her and fastened with plastic cuffs. A sign with a number 15 on it was hung around her neck. In contrast to her awful new uniform, Liz saw the hag retrieve from the pile on the floor her expensive underwear. The bitch drew them slowly across her face.

"I'll keep these, I think - you'll not be needing them where you are going."

The guard who had brought her had been viewing the entire proceedings with a lascivious grin on his face. Tarik now handed him a folder and he took Liz away, bare feet scrabbling over the cold metal floor.