Horny Gold

Hey ya'll, welcome back to another episode! I've got to say, I'm so appreciative of all the comments and feedback I've gotten on this series so far. To those of you who spotted references or callbacks to other shows, books, or movies, I have to say that they're almost always intentional. A couple of you commented on Erwin Wu's name, and you're right, it is a callback to Louis Wu from Ringworld. I loved that book when I was a teenager. Larry Niven is certainly an inspiration for me, and I highly recommend any fan of the Heinlein/Asimov/Clarke era of sci-fi check him out. His short stories are killer, by the way.

This episode is going to be cozier than the previous ones. I guess I'm dabbling in slice-of-life with this episode; I'm not very experienced with writing in that genre, so let me know if I'm hitting the mark.

Lucia Lei didn't leave her room for the rest of the next day. Wu briefly considered chastising the science officer for shirking her duties, but thought the better of it. This wasn't the military, after all.

He found Alma at her station on the bridge. She was doing a training module on water reclamation systems.

"How is she?" Wu asked.

"Physically? She's fine. No injury that needs attention." Alma paused the program and turned to face him. "She's very tired. I told her to take as much rack time as she needed."

"And how about not physically?"

Alma threw her head back in a sigh. "Big question. I don't know. She wouldn't say. I'm no headshrinker. Hell, I don't even know how I'd feel if that had been me. It was a violation, of course, but there was no intention behind it. Just animals doing animal things. I honestly don't know if that makes it easier to wrap your head around or harder."

Wu felt a pang of guilt again. They were his crew. His responsibility. His being new at the whole Captain thing was no excuse. Whether or not he asked for this crew, he now had them.

He knocked on Lucia's door moments later, his resolve to have the hard conversation steeled.

"It's me."

The door opened as if on its own. Lucia was already sitting back down at the small desk.

She looked frazzled. Weird word, but it was the first one that came to mind when he saw the scientist. Her black hair, normally razor straight and pulled back in a tight bun, was tied back haphazardly, with stray strands framing her face. She wore an old-looking university sweater with Prince-Tech written on the front in oversized letters. Her sweatpants were loose and stained, as if she were continually sipping coffee and missing her lips.

She went back to whatever she'd been doing, hunched over her tablet and scribbling in a notebook.

"Help you, Captain?" she asked, not looking up. Her tone was cordial with an edge of impatience.

"Look, about what happened... I just wanted to let you know--"

"I'm fine."

"You're fine?" he repeated stupidly.

"Yeah. Better than fine, actually."

"I guess I understand. It is common to have a level of dissociation during traumatic events."

"I'm not dissociating. I'm not dissociating because I'm not traumatized." She finally stopped her scribbling and held the notebook up, waving it at him. She'd been writing in it, with an actual pen instead of tapping at her tablet. "Do you know what this means? We're transporting creatures that are basically sex machines. I don't think Dr. Jasper understands the implication of this."

"Okay, I'll bite. You do?"

"Look, back on Citadel, early days, colonists found a species of plant that would attempt to fuck all who came near it. But it was a reproductive strategy to lay spores inside the warm, moist body of a host. Unpleasant to say the least. On Anthem, there was a herbivore, like a big reptile, that would go kind of nuts during rutting season and attempt to knock down and hump anything of comparable size, including people. But this species is different. I theorize that it can sense us somehow. Knows that our pleasure helps it survive."

"Interesting theory. I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to test it, though. Well, more than you already did."

"That's fine, sir," Lucia said, nodding. "It wasn't an awful experience, but I don't usually get that up close and personal with my subjects."

"I imagine it's rather hazardous to your health."

"Although, if I may admit something, it was actually quite pleasurable despite its intensity. I've never experienced anything like it."

"There are safer ways of getting your rocks off, you know?"

"Of course. Also, I must thank you as well."

"For what?"

"I only remember bits and pieces of it after a certain point. I've heard the phrase 'fucked her brains out,' but I always took it as a metaphor. Alma said you carried me from the tank to my room. That was sweet of you."

"I apologize if that was too forward of me. You were rather indecent at the time."

"Well, you were a gentleman about it. Although if you had laid me out on the bed and had your way with me, I don't think I could blame you. I'd been rather naughty, hadn't I?"

"I don't put my dick into unconscious women. It's policy."

"Right. Of course not. But I'm afraid that experience woke something wicked in me."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not traveled enough to put words to it, but I rather liked the feeling of not being in control. Of being restrained and taken against my will. Of just... I dunno. Surrendering."

"Surrendering? That sounds like rape with fancy words."

Lucia looked wistfully at him, as if wanting to say more but not having the right words to express it. "I suppose it is like that. But I spend so much time up here," she tapped her head, "that it felt like a vacation from thinking. No choice. No games. No putting it off until the work is done. Just now you're going to have an orgasm. Or twelve."

"So you liked that? Not being in control? Having your choices taken from you?"

Lucia thought for a moment, locking eyes with him. "Yes. I think I do."

Wu left Lucia's room more confused than when he'd entered.

***

***

The return trip to Port Ever Evening was a week shorter because they didn't have to slow into the inner system of one of their junctions like they had when they visited Eris-Stratton station.

They skipped along the outer darkness at a constant acceleration, picking up velocity with a few choice sling shot maneuvers.

Still, the trip was long, and the crew fell into a steady routine. Mornings were for exercise and breakfast, with Wu reviewing the status of various ship systems. The Hornigold was well built and sturdy, but like any ship, she had various issues that needed to be monitored and routine maintenance performed.

With a list made, he divided the various tasks between Alma, Lucia, and himself. Usually, Iana supervised, teaching more than helping, letting the crew gain valuable experience.

Theodora, perhaps not wanting to be left out, assigned herself lunch duties and mostly took over the galley as her own station. Wu was initially suspicious of this; after all, what does a princess know about cooking? But he was pleasantly surprised to find that she wasn't half bad. It turned out that proper nutrition, deliciously made, was a popular pastime on her world, even among royalty. The way she explained it to them, in a warrior culture where size, strength, and cunning were paramount, being well fed was often an edge between life and death.

After lunch, everyone mostly parted ways to do their more menial duties: cleaning, laundry, or any of the hundreds of ship-specific training modules that had come preloaded on the bridge systems.

Wu assigned himself weapons, and although the Hornigold wasn't as heavily outfitted as she had been when she'd been a working frigate, he paid special attention to the weapons she did have, namely the railgun, torpedoes, and point-defense guns.

Lucia seemed to have a preternatural ability to learn, and she sped through modules on everything from their communication system to sanitation and power. She'd usually get done early and spend the rest of her time down in the cargo bay studying the star eels. Wu checked on her frequently but usually found her sitting cross-legged in front of one of the tanks, tapping away at her tablet.

Dinner was a communal affair, with each of them taking their turn cooking. The galley was large enough to prepare meals for a crew three times the size and contained stovetops, a convection oven, a pressure cooker, a microwave, and a rehydrator/steamer. It even had a small grill for searing retort-pouched meats.

Iana, despite not needing to eat, had an impressive talent in the kitchen. It was obvious her machine mind could follow recipes to meticulous degrees. Dehydrated eggs and milk were perfectly reconstituted, internal temperatures of roasts, meats, and stews were exact, and the ratios for water, yeast, and flour in baking were precise. She only struggled when it came to being more creative. One dinner, she attempted to add strawberries in place of tomatoes to a curry. They'd run out of canned tomatoes earlier, and she attempted it because "the acidity levels were similar and both contained citric acid."

Theo managed to stop her, but not before the rest of the curry ingredients were already cooking. She talked her into using potatoes instead, fundamentally changing the dish but ending up with a hearty stew instead.

Although the galley had a small wall unit for hydroponic herbs, it hadn't been set up yet for this journey. There was room across the ship for more hydroponics, but they too were absent.

It was quickly apparent that despite her academic talents, Lucia was the worst chef among them. She wasn't bad, per se, only that she considered protein bars to be a perfectly valid meal in and of themselves.

After dinner, and once the galley was cleaned up, the crew would mostly retire to their respective places, although Iana would often grab Wu for a "daily debrief" in his cabin.

Alma could usually be found in the lounge, watching a movie or show from an extensive catalog she kept on a personal drive. Movie nights quickly became the norm, with even Lucia joining, curling up on one of the comfy chairs, only half paying attention as she tapped away on her tablet.

It was a simple domestic routine. Too comfortable, Wu thought. But it was nice, really nice, but he felt that it was something he couldn't allow himself to get used to.

"Going to get caught flat-footed," he said to Iana after a week of such domestic bliss.

"I've had similar thoughts," the synth admitted.

He knew that, in an emergency, she was solid, but in a real crisis, real combat, they would need everyone operating at their peak.

Together, they worked up a plan for the two other crew members. Both Alma and Lucia were fighters in spirit but needed training to be deadly. Wu started teaching them the finer points of using weapons.

When Senior Lieutenant Yuri Chavez outfitted their ship, he included stocking the armory. It wasn't full by any means, but the addition of a full crew complement of rifles, pistols, and shotguns was a good enough start.

They were all older models than what was currently being used, likely surplus from the war. That was fine by Wu as he'd had extensive training with all of them.

The rifles were close-quarters carbines. The M55, or Gizmo Gun as it was lovingly referred to by those who used it, was a jack-of-all-trades rifle for ship-to-ship combat. It was a short, ugly weapon, with twin barrels and the ability to take two magazines at the same time. This meant a ton of flexibility in how it could be loaded out. Two different magazines meant being able to use specialized ammo types and be able to switch between them at a moment's notice. Separate over-under barrels meant that they too could be specialized, including the wider one that would fire an assortment of heavy calibers or micro grenades. Smart-fire and auto-aim made them accurate as hell when using an eyepiece or the interface of a helmet's HUD.

The pistols were just as deadly. They were the former standard sidearm of the Black Navy, the SA101. During his service, everyone called it the Savior due to its penchant for getting soldiers out of bad situations. It was almost as versatile as a Gizmo, taking multiple types of ammunition, including a variety of ship-safe rounds that were absolutely devastating in close-quarters combat. Hollow points, stun rounds, explosive tips, and even a small caliber of shotgun shell made it ideal as a backup to the Gizmo.

The several shotguns were more straightforward. Yes, shells had different loadouts, from birdshot to fleshette slugs to nasty incendiary shells, but the basic operation of shotguns hadn't changed much in 300 years. Even things like smart fire and auto aim were unnecessary with such weapons. They called this model the Retro.

As far as ammunition went, they didn't have a ton of diversity. Three different types for the Gizmo and two for both the Savior and the Retro.

Accounting for all that, they also had a couple of boxes of grenades. One for smoke and one concussion. Wu wasn't letting the girls come anywhere near those.

Body armor was also lacking, having only been provided with two sets. And while he would have liked to have had sets for his whole crew, if body armor was going to make a difference in the fighting, they were well and truly fucked.

He assigned each of the women their own rifle, pistol, and shotgun that they were responsible for. The first several days were spent learning how to disassemble, clean, and reassemble the guns. They didn't have a firing range aboard the ship; however, with a combat eyepiece and sim rounds, their training could proceed well enough. At the end of the week, he was having Alma and Lucia hunt each other through the ship. Iana offered Hatred as a training companion, but Wu refused initially. To be honest, the little killbot still scared the shit out of him, and despite her assurances, he had a hard time being convinced that it wouldn't decide to go lethal if it thought it was under attack.

"You're a wet blanket," Iana told him. "You get that he is me. I'm him."

Wu relented with the stipulation that he go first. For about ten minutes, he attempted to hunt the murderbot through the ship using the training program. He still kept a fully loaded Savior on him, hoping it wouldn't have to live up to its name.

The exercise went fine. He managed to sneak up on the bot while it was on the ceiling of the galley and shot it with a sim round. The bot fell, crashing into the table on the way to the floor, and beeped sadly as it was upside down, twitching its legs for dramatic effect.

Then he moved the girls to small unit tactics, with the two of them going up against the bot. That first round was a bit of a disaster, as Hatred "killed" both of them when they were huddled up in a short hallway.

The women took their training well, although it was clear that Lucia had been treating it like a game.

It was around the fourth day that Theodora decided she also wanted in on the action. She took it upon herself to rearrange some of the workout equipment so that there was enough space for sparring. She offered to teach the women some basics in hand-to-hand combat, but Wu first wanted to get a sense of what she knew.

Hand-to-hand combat training had been on his mind, but he'd held off, preferring they get used to using weapons first, as that would even the odds against almost any opponent, regardless of size and strength.

Theo cleared some space in the gym, pushing several of the machines against the wall so they'd have an open area in the middle.

She stood barefoot in the center, dressed only in shorts and a sports bra. She'd done her hair too. Pulling her icy blonde hair back and tying it in tight braids along the sides and top to keep it out of her face.

Her physique was intimidating to behold. Her broad shoulders and developed back gave her a V-shaped torso, with her taut abs making her completely shredded. Her legs and glutes were toned and powerful; overall, she looked like a statuesque Amazonian goddess.

Erwin kicked off his shoes by the door and pulled his socks off.

"Rules?" he asked.

"First blood?"

"Don't be ridiculous. We're sparring, not beating each other to a pulp. Nobody's walking out of here with a broken nose or jaw or whatever."

"Fine. Wrestling it is. Submission, tap-out."

"Agreed."

Wu was already wearing shorts and stripped off his shirt, hanging it on a nearby barbell.

Alma, who'd never seen him without a shirt, gasped. Lucia didn't say anything, but her eyes widened when she saw his chest.

"Yeah, I know I'm not the prettiest."

"It's not that," Theo said, looking him up and down.

"Is that all from the war?" Alma asked, incredulous.

"Most of it."

Across his chest and back, on his stomach and flanks, were dozens of long scars. Some were thick, some were thin. A patch on his right shoulder looked like it had been a constellation of tiny cuts. Another patch, no bigger than the lid of a standard ration, was spread over the side of his left rib cage, the unmistakable wavy scarring of burns.

"Sir, um," Alma started. "Forgive me for asking, but what the fuck happened to you?"

"I made it out luckier than most," he said simply.

"Those, young lady, are trophies of war," Theo said, clearly impressed. "I think I see several that ought to have been fatal, am I right, Captain?"

"Yeah. That's right."

"It also seems they are of different ages. It does not appear like you were injured once and sent home, does it?"

"Look, if I knew this was going to cause such a fuss, I would have left my damn shirt on. Can we get on with it?"

"Very well."

The two squared off and slapped hands.

Size-wise, Theo was a little bit taller, had a little bit of a longer reach, but Wu was heavier and knew how to use that to his advantage.

They both squatted down into wrestling stances and began feeling each other out and judging distance. Theo feigned diving for his leg for a single leg takedown, but Wu didn't take the bait. She was testing his reaction time. The second time she did it, he was ready. As she attempted to grab his leg, he stepped back, his hand shooting forward and palming the back of her head. He pulled back, sending her off balance, forcing her to drop a knee to the mat before she was ready. He was already moving around her, in an attempt to push her over from the side.

She recovered quickly, rolling away instead of resisting and trying to push against him from a crouched position.

She was up on her feet in an instant the two resumed their dance.

"Stars around, you two. Quit playing grab ass," Alma called from the sidelines. The two women and the synth sat bunched together on a weight bench pushed against the wall.

This time they attacked almost simultaneously, with each of them grabbing at arms. Wu focused on one, his two hands grabbing her right arm and attempting an arm drag, but Theo let it happen, moving her free left hand around his neck and back. She pushed her right to meet her left and clamped them together, effectively locking his upper body. With a twist of her hips, he went over her right hip.

He hit the ground with a thud, but she came with him on top and to the side in a dangerous position for him. A couple of moments of scrambling were spent as the two of them fought to secure a better position.

It was clear that Theodora was strong as well as trained. He'd known several female R and D operatives over the years, women who were absolutely deadly in fights, and Theo would have fit right in.

Still, she wasn't as quick to capitalize on her superior position as Wu was to neutralize it. He managed to get his knee between them, hooking the outside of her thigh with his bottom leg. Theo, on her knees and pressing down on top of him, was held at bay. Her next mistake came when she pressed down on his bottom leg, in an effort to pin it so she could get around it to his side. Wu grabbed her wrist so she couldn't stop what happened next. With smooth, practiced motion, he scissored his legs using his bottom as the fulcrum and his upper leg to push her off to the side. She tumbled sideways, pulling him with her.