Chapter Text
Calara blinked, it felt like, and a week had already passed since she’d come aboard the Invictus and committed to an eternity in John Blake’s immortal harem. The days didn’t exactly blur, more that she was having so much fun that time flew by without her noticing.
Her first couple mornings were spent just watching John and Alyssa practice psionics, but on the third morning John deemed her ready for her own first attempt at psychic training. Calara would never forget the moment she’d first activated her Prescience. The world had slipped into an unusual focus, like looking into a fractal where you noticed patterns after patterns the closer you squinted. She had seen the next 10 seconds before they happened, and every branch or splinter off where any action on her part would have altered the sequence and their consequences. It was almost impossible to describe, you had to experience for yourself to truly understand.
With confirmation that she could activate and maintain Prescience, Calara had engaged in practice by watching John and Alyssa’s duels with her Time-based power active. Calara lasted barely 20 minutes with breaks that first session; apparently peering forward in linear time was a serious mana hog. John had to recharge her from his own stores just so she wouldn’t collapse, she’d accidentally pushed herself so far. Not that Calara was complaining about a supercharged kiss from her man, no sir. And each day after, her stamina measurably improved, her psychic potential being enhanced with every load of John’s cum she swallowed down.
After psionics practice, they all typically went up to the Bridge to ‘research’. Alyssa focused on self-studying her way to a doctorate in finance so she could expertly invest John’s fortune in credits so the crew couldn’t go broke if they tried. John either kept up his increasingly futile-seeming search for a swordsmanship tutorial he could study without having to hire a tutor, or was scouring TFNN and other empire’s news stations to get a general idea of the current state of the Galactic League.
Calara, herself, prepared for their future confrontation with Everett Hitch’s pirate gang. Getting a list from John of which ships Grant had sold to the pirates illegally, Calara confirmed that each ship was marked as ‘scraped’ in the Port Heracles database using John’s credentials, each order signed off by Commander Grant personally instead of actual drydock personnel. Which wasn’t suspicious at all, no, really. With a confirmed list of the enemy fleet, Calara programed a series of simulations and spent the two hours between psionics practice and lunch rehearsing various possible ways to take down the pirates using just the Invictus or possibly one or two reinforcements from the T-Fed Navy.
Calara’s breakfast, lunch, and dinner was supplied by John’s quad, but she cheerfully joined Alyssa in getting cooking lessons. Maria had always wanted to teach Calara how to cook, but Calara was secretly opposed to picking up such a traditionally feminine skill. She’d done her best to fit in with her brothers and live up to her father’s expectations, and had ended up a bit of a tomboy. But with John, seeing his obvious pleasure in preparing meals and knowing he would be pleased if she could help him, Calara threw herself into learning the fine art of cuisine. And it was just a useful life skill, being able to feed yourself and any guests and, eventually, your own children.
The afternoons, for Calara, were split between putting in hours in the Firing Range and going back up to the Bridge for more simulation practice at the Tactical station. She didn’t ‘feel’ like she was getting better, but the data didn’t lie: her aim and speed were both steadily improving. She even found herself attempting trick shots such as specifically aiming for critical areas of the enemy ship like the Power Core or Bridge and actually hitting them.
On the fourth day, all of Calara’s old clothes started feeling a little too tight to be comfortable. The hard confirmation that she was physically transforming into the Valkyrie template like Alyssa had been striking for Calara. She’d believed John and Alyssa’s claims, but it was another thing to know for sure that she really was changing into a different body than what she was born with. Since then, she’d elected to wear the nanomesh body-sleeve that Alyssa had worn exclusively on the Fool’s Gold, given it was one-size-fits-all and would grow with her until she reached her final size and could start borrowing from Alyssa’s closet.
Now it was the 8th day of their voyage to Omicron Ceti, with 3 days and change left in their ETA. Calara woke to the 0600 alarm as usual. She blinked open her eyes, reaching up to rub the dust out of them. She looked up to see John smiling down at her, a sight she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of. The imprint in her chest, which she’d felt ever since she’d woken up from her initial dose and choice of plan B, positively glowed with positive emotions. Every day, it seemed to grow stronger and deeper, until Calara had no doubt in her mind or heart or soul that John Blake adored her and valued her company. She hesitated to put a name to that unconditional devotion, having never felt it for real herself, but she couldn’t deny the intensity of John’s echoed emotions.
Alyssa leaned into Calara’s field of view, stealing the first kiss of the day from John as was her right as Matriarch. Calara sighed with content, just watching the beautiful sight of John and her ‘big’ sister expressing their love. Then it ended, and John was turning and suddenly it was Calara’s turn. Kissing John was like every cliche she’d ever heard from rom-coms and steamy novels brought to life. Fireworks, that was the only word she could think of for the onslaught of pleasure and sensation from a simple brush of lips and tongue. She’d really lucked out, not just being rescued by John during the Griffon ambush, but catching his attention as a potential lover and crewmate. She couldn’t imagine life without John in it anymore, didn’t want to think about going back to an existence without his presence.
John eventually pulled back, then looked between her and Alyssa expectantly. Calara gave a little giggle, while Alyssa just fluttered her eyelashes teasingly. Leaning across the sculpted expanse of John’s chest, Calara gave Alyssa a good morning kiss. While their lesbian activities had initially been performative and purely for John’s benefit, Calara found herself increasingly craving her next touch from Alyssa the same way she’d come to crave John. Her mind was filled with fantasies the old her would have been scandalized by, of all the potential ways one man (more like one Progenitor) and two women could be together at the same time.
Calara ended the kiss with Alyssa when the blonde didn’t back down for a solid minute. “That’s a hell of a way to wake up,” John chuckled between them, some rather obvious evidence of his arousal from the sapphic display tenting the sheets.
“No arguments here,” Alyssa chuckled, looking like the cat that got the canary AND the cream.
Calara, with none of the hesitance or shyness she might once have felt, reached down to grasp John’s hard cock and give some teasing pumps. “Somebody else seems to want his ‘kiss’,” she purred deep in her throat.
John grinned down at her, face tight with pleasure, before he blinked. He sat up fully, dislodging Calara’s grip as she let go so as not to harm him. “Calara, could you get out of the bed for a second? Just stand there for a minute?”
“Um, okay,” Calara agreed, at a loss but seeing no reason to say no. She slid out of the double-king four-poster bed she was blessed to get to share with them, turning to face John and Alyssa still in the bed.
“Hot damn! That was fast!” Alyssa gasped.
“It makes sense, I have a lot more energy than when I first gave you the Gift between adding Calara and all the training we’ve done. It makes sense that with me able to pour more energy into her with each dose, the timeline would accelerate,” John reasoned with a thoughtful look.
Calara cocked her head, before grasping their meaning. “Wait, you think I’m done with the Gift?”
John got out of the bed, gloriously nude, Alyssa a vision beside him. Both took one of her hands and led her to the walk-in closet. Halfway through the room, a trifold of mirrors was set up on one wall with a flat mirror on the other, angled so one could see their whole body from various angles when positioned between them. John and Alyssa nudged her into the right spot, then he waved at the mirrors. “You tell us, honey.”
Calara’s jaw dropped when she got a good look at her own naked body. She reached up to cup her face, noting the subtle yet profound alterations to the reflection she’d known all her teenage years. Her asymmetric eyes were no longer asymmetric, her mouth was just a little fuller, little touches here and there that combined to make her look like a whole new woman. Her deep brown hair looked thicker and shinier than she’d ever seen it, and she noticed it fell all the way to her waist. From the neck down, she looked identical to Alyssa apart from her distinct coffee-toned Latina complexion. Even that had been enhanced, every scar or imperfection like that little mole on her hip had vanished, leaving her flawless. She was ripped, and yet somehow she had just enough fat in just the right places to come off more as a dancer than a bodybuilder. Her ‘giant’ boobs, at least compared to her original set, went a long way to distract from her six-pack or sculpted thighs and upper arms.
In short, she was stunningly beautiful, in the exact same league as Alyssa.
“I’m… I’m gorgeous,” Calara gasped, feeling almost like crying. She’d always been told by her Mom and Daddy how she was the prettiest girl in the Core Worlds, and she’d laughed them off as most every child did their parents’ compliments. She’d managed to capture Craig Harrison’s attention and he could have had almost any female cadet at the Academy, so that had been a point towards her objective beauty. But Calara had never ‘felt’ pretty. Looking at the new her, though, she couldn’t deny the obviousness of the truth. She was lovely. And it was all thanks to John.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” John said softly. Then, moving with masculine confidence and purpose, he twisted Calara and pulled her into the hottest kiss they’d yet to share.
Calara would remember the next hour for the rest of her centuries-long life. How John had scooped her up in his big strong arms and carried her back to his, no, their bed. How he’d kissed his way from her lips all the way down her body to her sex. How he’d made her scream with his fingers and tongue. How he’d finally given her what she really wanted, sliding every inch of him inside her until they were joined as one. The rhythmic give-and-take of them coming apart and then back together over and over, driving each other to dizzying heights of pleasure. And finally culminating in him roaring his release, unleashing a full load straight into her womb and making her feel ‘complete’ in a way she’d never known until that moment.
She came back from wherever she’d floated off to to the sensation of John pressing light, teasing kisses to her nose, cheeks, and all over her face. “I love you, Calara. I hope you know that,” he said breathlessly when he finally got her attention.
Calara didn’t even think about her response, the words just came out. “I know. I love you too, John.”
“Does it really count as a proper ‘I love you’ if it comes out as pillow talk? Could just be the endorphins and oxytocin talking,” Alyssa said teasingly, reminding them both she existed. Calara and John turned to see her kneeling on the floor with her chin resting on the bed. “Hell of a show, though, I could have sold tickets.”
“What we all get up to in this family is a private show,” John grumbled. He gingerly withdrew his softening length from the depths of Calara’s womanhood. He maneuvered to rest on his side next to a still supine Calara. He reached out to rub Calara’s bump possessively, before looking at Alyssa. “This is for you, by the way. Give Calara a moment to enjoy being this full, then I think it’d be a real bonding experience for you to suck my load out of her. We can of course do it the other way around tonight, just to keep things even.”
“I love my life,” Alyssa giggled, before getting up to crawl onto the bed. She snuggled into Calara’s other side, the Latina getting the middle position for once. She joined John in rubbing Calara’s swollen midriff. *Best feeling in the universe, isn’t it? It’s like he’s claimed you as his , forever,* she projected into Calara’s mind, raising a partial mind-shield so John couldn’t eavesdrop.
Calara silently nodded at her Matriarch’s thoughts.
The three of them just cuddled for a few minutes in silence, until Alyssa couldn’t wait anymore and got into position with her head between Calara’s thighs. This was a first for both of them, oral sex with another woman, but they cared for each other deeply and John would get off on it, so of course they were okay with it. Alyssa dove in and started to suckle, pressing down on Calara’s bump to try and force the load within to come out the only exit.
In short order, Alyssa was the one who looked ready to pop and Calara was back to being trim and svelte. John helped both to stand, then led them all to the closet again. “I’m hungry, and it’s Calara’s turn to taste my cooking. Suppose we can alternate between you two for who gets my load each mealtime.”
“And then we’ll recruit Sparks, and she’ll be your sole focus while giving her the Gift. Then she’ll join the rota until the next girl, and so on, until there’s a freaking waitlist for going down on you,” Alyssa pointed out with humor.
“You’re probably right,” John chuckled. While he’d known his destiny all his life, he still felt like he didn’t fully appreciate the realities of keeping and maintaining a harem. Well, he’d learn as he went along.
John dressed in a long-sleeved tee and combat trousers, his go-to when spending all day on his ship. Calara, almost paralyzed by choice, finally settled on a blouse and jeans from Alyssa’s side of the closet with some ballet flats, everything fitting like a glove since the two women were identical dimensions. Alyssa threw on a sundress loose enough to accommodate her bump and sandals, and with that they were ready for the day.
John, feeling ravenous, made a full English breakfast for two with pancakes, Alyssa and Calara doing simple tasks like turning the meat or stirring the batter while he did most of the real work. With glasses of orange juice, John and Calara dug into their hearty meal, Alyssa totally satisfied with her overfull stomach.
“You know, this means I’m ready for martial arts practice. You said we could start when I was done growing,” Calara pointed out as they were finishing off their plates.
“Correct,” John nodded. He turned to Alyssa. “You’re passable in the pool by now, honey. You still want swimming lessons or can we switch that slot to Calara’s CQC training?”
“No problems on my end,” Alyssa said, a bit eager to stop having to swim even if the lessons had been her idea. She had picked up swimming as a survival skill, but she acknowledged that she’d never be the girl to spend hours in the pool with John while he let loose. She’d just have to find and recruit a girl who would, in that case.
“Then that’s what we’ll do. What will you do with your time now that it won’t be spent in the pool?” John asked his Matriarch.
“I’ll probably just double down on the Firing Range. I hit ‘combat-ready’ yesterday by your standards, but I still have a while to go before I hit my personal goal,” Alyssa decided.
“Good luck with that,” John nodded, by now assured that Alyssa would reach the 99.9th percentile of Terran marksmanship and manage her lofty goal of 50 bull’s-eyes at 50 yards on full automatic with the fans at max. Her progress had been just that consistently good and fast. What was impossible for most was much more negotiable for his Valkyries, it would seem.
They finished breakfast, washed everything, then went down to the Gym for a shortened session of psionics practice given their late start. Alyssa was focusing more on her Lumen powers lately, given her natural proficiency with Telekinesis she wanted to make sure she practiced her ‘weak’ points to match her ‘strengths’. John, meanwhile, was branching more into elemental manipulation. It had been ruled after the ‘tsunami’ incident that he wasn’t allowed to use Hydrokinesis to try and weaponize the pool, though. And Calara watched from the sidelines, getting more and more accustomed to her Prescience and how to predict moves before they happened.
They were just getting into the elevator to head to the Command Deck for ‘study’ time when there was a klaxon on the ship intercom.
“Distress beacon!” John gasped, slamming the button for the Command Deck even though it was already pressed, as if that would speed up the elevator.
“But is it an attack in progress or an ambush like last time?” Alyssa wondered aloud.
“We’ll find out shortly,” Calara said, remarkably levelheaded. She’d spent hours preparing to attack Hitch’s pirate gang on the simulator. Far as she was concerned, this was her chance to prove her worth and preparedness to her lovers.
The elevator opened to the Bridge and John rushed to his Command Chair, Alyssa and Calara hurrying to their own chairs. John muted the alarm on the intercom and pulled up the data from the long-range scanners. “We’re almost on top of them,” he noted in surprise. “Looks like a civilian freighter being hit by two corvettes and a frigate. Transponders off, highly illegal, so probably some of Hitch’s pirates. Alyssa, how long to reach that system?”
“4 minutes,” she said, already altering their course, they really had been within spitting distance astronomically of the system where the pirates had ambushed the civilians.
“Weapons hot, Calara,” John ordered, turning his chair to face her station. “This isn’t going to be a simulation or that asteroid. You’re going to be firing on ships with living, breathing Terrans aboard. This is a first blood scenario. You ready, honey?”
“They signed their own death warrants when they chose a life of crime and depravity,” Calara said solemnly. “I won’t cry over ending their lives. I’ll just celebrate the innocent lives I’ll be saving.”
John felt a twinge of his conscience. The template in his DNA for his Valkyries included hardwired black-and-white morality into the brain. His women wouldn’t feel war guilt or combat fatigue because they honestly didn’t see any ‘enemies’ as people worthy of consideration. Then again, he himself wouldn’t lose any sleep over the deaths of the kind of men this pirate gang was composed of. Setting the issue aside for now, John nodded. “Get ready, I’ll give them one chance to surrender and then you’ll drop the axe.”
“Aye, Commander,” Calara nodded, turning to face her console, already activating all the weapons systems.
The Invictus dropped out of hyper-warp at the edge of Gamma Ceti, an uninhabitable system dominated by one supergiant star and not much else. The civilian heavy freighter, an Atlas-class, a real pondering monster of a cargo ship, was defenseless against the trio of former military vessels harassing it. The two corvettes and the frigate were clustered to the rear of the freighter, trying and failing to aim for the engines and render their target immobile.
John made the command to launch a system-wide broadcast. “Attention, pirate ships. This is the assault cruiser Invictus. Cease and desist all hostile actions immediately and your lives will be spared.”
There was a fast response from the frigate. “Fuck you, T-Fed pig!” came out the speakers.
Shrugging, John ended the broadcast and nodded to Alyssa. “XO, take us in. Tactical, destroy targets.”
Alyssa brought them at full speed towards the trio of pirate warships. Calara lined up the Beam Lasers just right and fired a full broadside at the frigate, the largest potential threat. Their shields visibly buckled for a second before collapsing, and the six lasers cored the ship from side to side, melting a hole straight through. There was an explosive decompression, the ship crumbling like a tin can, every soul aboard dying almost instantly.
Almost simultaneously, Calara aimed and began to fire at the two corvettes with the Laser Cannons and Gatling Lasers. The two light and maneuverable ships, realizing they’d bitten off more than they could chew, turned to try to flee. But it was too little too late. Before the Beams had even recharged, Calara wore down both corvettes’ shields. She aimed the Mass Drivers independently, each double barrel tilting slightly, and then fired. Each corvette was slammed with two high-yield explosive shells, both of them going up in brief explosions before all the oxygen within was consumed, leaving nothing but wrecked debris behind.
“Targets destroyed,” Calara announced, eyes still keen for any reinforcements or hidden ships that lay in wait.
John launched a full scan of the system, and found the only two ships were the Invictus and the freighter. Satisfied the threat was neutralized, John initiated a hail with the civilian ship.
A nondescript man in his mid-30s appeared on the holo-screen in front of John’s chair. “Oh, thank you, Invictus! We would have been doomed if you hadn’t shown up!”
“It was no trouble,” John said. “Do you require any repairs?”
“They dinged us up, but everything’s still functional! We’re good to go!” the civilian said with a big grin. “Thanks again, you saved our bacon!”
“You’re very welcome. Safe travels,” John wished back to the polite man, ending the hail. “You can take us out, Alyssa.”
Alyssa turned the Invictus to head back to the edge of the gravity well, the freighter following them at a much slower pace given their larger mass and civilian-grade engines. Once free, Alyssa re-engaged the FTL Drive and they were back in hyper-warp towards Omicron Ceti.
“Ladies, to my Ready Room,” John ordered, standing and leading the way to his personal office. He sat down at his desk, turning to find Alyssa and Calara standing at attention facing him. “So… first ship-to-ship combat for both of you. How do you feel?”
“We did a good thing today. We saved over 100 innocent people on that freighter from getting traded to the Kirrix or worse,” Alyssa said with a big smile.
“I share that sentiment,” Calara nodded. She raised a brow. “Don’t tell me you’d rather we be wailing and beating our breasts over how we’re evil murderers who should burn in hell or something.”
“Of course not,” John sighed. “But you do realize that this is part of the Gift, one of the parts I don’t really like? Corvettes can crew up to 20, a frigate about 50. About 100 human lives are over as a direct consequence of our actions. That doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“Does it bother you?” Alyssa countered.
“No, but I’m the Progenitor. Mass genocide is the family business,” John said with a self-deprecating grin.
“Okay, stop. This isn’t really about the dehumanization of enemies built into the Valkyrie template. This is about your internalized Progenitor guilt,” Calara said with a frown. “John, the Terran Federation spends BILLIONS of credits a year on funding counseling services so their personnel don’t burn out or resign from not being able to deal with the blood on their hands. The fact I’m physically incapable of remorse for my kills is a boon, not a curse, or that’s how I see it. I trust you’ll never ‘aim’ me at anyone but people who deserve to die.”
“And that goes double for me. Your moral compass is too rigid for you to ever ‘slip’ and order us to kill people just for being an inconvenience to you. The only reason you’d give a kill order is if you fully believed the enemy deserved death. If you can’t trust your own judgement, then trust that we trust you to always make the right call,” Alyssa said passionately.
John felt a tension leave his shoulders. “You’re both right, of course. My own fault for making you both so smart,” he chuckled. “It’s true, those pirates deserved what they got. If the fact it won’t bother you when it really should isn’t an issue, then I’ll drop it.”
John got up, gave both his lovers a quick kiss, then led them towards the elevator. “I feel like a drink to toast our victory, then I guess we can study down in the Lounge before lunch.”
They all raised a glass to their first victory as a private crew, then grabbed holo-consoles and went about their normal activities at this time of day. John made a light meal for himself and Alyssa, Calara getting her own meal out of his quad. Afterwards, they all headed to the Firing Range for 3 hours.
After John and Calara finished up, they waved goodbye to Alyssa who was still going strong with her own practice and crossed the deck to the Gym. John led his Latina lover to the mats and turned to face her. “First off, stretching. It’s unrealistic, most combat will be spur-of-the-moment and you won’t have a chance to warm up. But for practice, it’s just smart to avoid pulling something.”
“Sure,” Calara nodded. She mirrored John as he engaged in a 20-minute full body stretch routine, ending with rolling their arms in circles both clockwise and counterclockwise. Clapping his hands at the end of the sequence, John launched into a lecture. “I’m going to show you the standard forms for the fighting style the T-Fed military teaches almost every cadet for CQC. It’s likely what your father taught your brothers. They’re purposely designed for adaptation and improvisation so individuals can put personal spins on it, but I’ll start you off with the baseline. Sounds good?”
“Go ahead,” Calara nodded, paying rapt attention.
John got into his opening stance, which felt slightly awkward given how long he’d gone without practice. Still, it was like riding a bike, the body never really forgets once you invest enough hours into practicing any physical skill. John went through the sequence of punches, kicks, grapples, and dodges like a very violent dance. He moved slowly and smoothly, making no obvious mistakes that he could detect but he could tell he’d lost some of his edge. Still, he finished every form within 10 minutes and turned back to Calara.
“I didn’t get to learn, but I got to watch when the boys sparred now and then. I recognized quite a few of those moves,” Calara commented. “I’m going to guess the first step is to work all the forms into my muscle memory. Actually using them in a fight is another matter entirely, I’m sure.”
“You’re right about that,” John nodded. “I’m going to teach you the forms. When you can do what I just did, the full sequence with no mistakes at speed, we’ll start sparring so you can figure out how to actually utilize them and how to react to an opponent’s moves.”
“Well, let’s get started!” Calara said brightly.
John learned very quickly that teaching a student with a photographic memory sped up the initial memorization substantially. Calara very quickly picked up each individual form almost on the first try, though she needed some corrections on foot placement or little things like keeping her thumb outside her fist. By the time John’s alarm for dinner went off, Calara was already managing to run through all the forms at half-speed with only one or two mistakes. It was an astounding amount of progress in only 3 hours, but John was running out of surprises when it came to how capable his Valkyries could be.
They met up with Alyssa, who had a big grin at her own progress with the extra training in the Firing Range, and went up to Deck 2. They put the guns away in the weapons locker in their shared quarters before going to the Lounge. John, feeling like making enough for leftovers for the next few days, taught the two teens how to help him bake a large pan of moussaka.
“What are those big purple vegetables called that make the base?” Alyssa asked after John put the casserole dish into the oven to bake.
“That’s actually up for debate. It’s a regional thing, like how some people call fizzy drinks ‘soda’ or ‘pop’. Some say they’re ‘eggplants’, others say they’re ‘aubergines’,” John answered. “Whatever you call them, they’re tasty when you prepare them right, which we did.”
They made small talk as the oven did its job. John took out the pan when it was finished and set it to cool for a few minutes. Then he carved big slices for all three of them. John hadn’t forgotten his promise that Calara could eat his load out of Alyssa later that night. The girls savored the food, but they undeniably ate fast to try and hurry up the coming ‘dessert’. John teased them by slowing down until he was practically chewing each bite 50 times, but eventually he finished, they cleaned, and they all headed to their quarters to work up a sweat.
The next two days were uneventful, if you didn’t count the little milestones they reached or all the progress in their training. John had given up his quest to find any videos to learn swordsmanship, resigned he’d need to hire a teacher. Hopefully over comms, he could hardly afford to stay in one spot for months as he built up proficiency taking lessons in person. That task over with, John started to plan the future tour of the Galactic League, which empires to visit in which order to upgrade the Invictus’ individual systems with superior alien versions. Alyssa was wrapping up her study into the art of investing, though she decided to wait until after the second Tyrenium sale to get properly started. Calara was only getting better at the simulated battles against the pirate gang, to the point she started to think they might be able to manage taking on the whole fleet solo with a little bit of luck.
Before they knew it, it was the day of their expected arrival at Karron. John, over breakfast, ordered they’d take a rest day just to conserve energy. On the off chance there was any conflict during the visit to the asteroid colony, he wanted all of them at full reserves. Though apparently that didn’t preclude some morning sex, since John led both girls back to their quarters to enjoy an intimate couple hours.
They relaxed with a long shower and then a movie on the couch, and then it was lunchtime. They finished off the moussaka and then went up to the Bridge, anticipating their final arrival in a few hours.
“So, Sparks first or Mortimer?” Alyssa asked as she settled into her XO Chair.
“Here’s the plan,” John declared after some serious thought. “Calara, I want you to stay on the Invictus. In fact, stay at your station and keep the Gatling Lasers active. A warship is a lot more tempting to steal than a rusty old freighter, I don’t want any of the gangs or anyone else getting any ideas to commandeer the Invictus. Feel free to scare anyone who gets a little too close off. Alysaa, you’re the local, you’ll lead me to the Diablos’ base first. We’ll rescue Sparks, at the very least getting her free from the gang and offering her a trip to the Core Worlds. We can give the full recruitment pitch once we leave. Once she’s safe aboard, we’ll turn around and go to get the Tyrenium from Mortimer. If we’re lucky, he still has no idea how valuable the ore really is and I can get all the rest he has at the same price per ton as last time. If we’re unlucky, he’ll either refuse to sell to us or demand full price. In which case, we’ll ‘persuade’ him as nonviolently as possible, but we’re still getting that ore. Any objections?”
“How do you plan to sneak Sparks out of a gang’s stronghold?” Calara asked with a frown.
John waved his hand towards Alyssa, reaching for the Shadow Rune. In a blur and bending of light, Alyssa ‘vanished’, leaving the illusion of an empty XO Chair.
“Lumen is about weaponizing light. Shadow is more about tricking light to act in ways it shouldn’t,” John lectured to both his astounded lovers. “I haven’t practiced Umbrakinesis and illusions as much as I maybe should have, but I can cloak Sparks for a few minutes while we literally walk her back out of the gang’s base. By the time they realize she’s missing, we’ll probably be lightyears away.”
“Neat!” Alyssa spoke from where she was hidden, her voice seeming to come from empty air.
“And Sparks will just be okay with a psychic stranger showing up with her old friend she might not even recognize?” Calara added, poking every hole in John’s plan just to work out the kinks.
“I know secrets she’s never told another living soul. I can convince her I’m really me,” Alyssa said as John dropped the illusion, point proven. “She might freak out about an invisibility cloak, or ‘magic’ powers in general, but if it means escaping the Diablos and Karron she’d sacrifice a goat and dance in a corn field, so she’ll probably just roll with it. Once she’s safe on the ship, then we can launch into the full history of the Progenitor War and whether she’ll become a Valkyrie. Keep in mind how hard her life has been up to today. She’ll probably agree just to get steady hot meals and showers, let alone her own workshop and the chance to tinker with advanced alien technology.”
“I’ll take your word for it, honey,” John shrugged. “We need a Chief Engineer, and I hope she’s as perfect for the role as you seem to think. But if she refuses, we can still do a good deed and set her up with a little money to start a life in the Core Worlds.”
They slipped to more neutral topics, Calara commenting on just how close to the Kirrix border they really were. Seriously, the border and the Terran patrol lines reinforcing it were less than 6 hours further past Omicron Ceti if you kept heading ‘east’. Alyssa, with the benefit of all she’d learned since joining John, wondered if the proximity to a race of rapist parasites wasn’t a factor in why Karron was so rarely visited by traders.
At 1503 hours, the Invictus dropped out of hyper-warp at the edge of Omicron Ceti’s gravity well. Alyssa’s eyes went to the marked dwarf planet on the System Map, reflecting that this was her first time properly ‘seeing’ Karron from the outside. She had new appreciation for the slang term ‘worms’; she and all the other colonists really were like worms eating and living and fighting and fucking their way through the rotten apple that was Karron, slowly coring it out until there was nothing left to feed on. If and when the last vein of valuable ore was tapped out, most of the colonists might not even be able to afford or arrange transport to another colony. Barring intervention by the T-Fed, which was unlikely, the colony would collapse into anarchy and it would be a bloodbath until the last man standing starved or choked from lack of oxygen.
Well, good thing she wouldn’t be a part of that. And neither would Sparks, if she had anything to say about it. Karron could burn for all she cared once she got Sparks away from it, she had zero love or affection for her home colony.
John’s voice broke her from her introspection. “Honey? I said take us in.”
“Right, sorry,” Alyssa shook her head, activating the pilot controls and bringing them towards the big rock she’d been born in.
At hailing distance, John accepted a comm request.
“You’re early, the next inspection was supposed to be in two months,” came a rather casual voice.
“You are mistaken, we are civilians, not representatives of the Terran Federation,” John said calmly, maintaining professionalism even if the Flight Control tech wasn’t.
“Da fuq? What’re normies doing in a big-ass warship like that?!” sputtered the Karronite on the other end of the call.
“This assault cruiser is decommissioned and in my private ownership. Now, may we please have clearance for docking?” John requested.
“You got a dropship or somthin’? ‘Cause if ya don’t, you’re shit outta luck. Only dock we got that could fit a beast like that already has an Atlas-class in it,” the tech did, actually doing his job.
“We do not possess a dropship. When is the estimated departure of the Atlas-class freighter? We are willing to wait,” John offered.
“Should only be about 20 more minutes for them to finish loading and start to leave. Once they’re out, guess you can slide in. Boys ain’t gonna believe this story,” the tech said, distracted towards the end.
“Very well, thank you for your time,” John said before ending the hail.
Closer to a full hour later, the large freighter exited from one of the tunnels bored through the rock to allow entrance in and out of the dwarf planet. Once it was a safe distance out, Alyssa slid past them and, very carefully, nudged the Invictus through the tunnel barely big enough to fit her. They finally passed an atmospheric force field and Alyssa brought them down on the floor of Docking Bay 3, taking up almost all the available space. They wouldn’t even be able to turn, she’d have to reverse them out when it was time to depart.
Calara blew them both kisses goodbye before turning to eye all the external cameras, taking her assignment to guard the ship very seriously. John and Alyssa, purposely in ‘spacer casual’ rather than anything that screamed wealth, took the elevator down to Deck 9 and exited the airlock. John almost coughed at the abrupt shift in air quality, while Alyssa took a deep inhale, like a smoker taking a drag. She’d forgotten the smell of this place, and now with her enhanced memory she’d never forget it. Well, she’d just have to not dig it up too often.
Alyssa took off, the whole route already mapped out in her head. John followed close behind her. While Alyssa looked almost unrecognizable compared to her original self and thus was likely not in danger of being hunted for the Diablos’ bounty on her, she WAS an insanely beautiful woman in a place like Karron. She hardly needed protection with her already formidable psionic chops, but no potential attacker would know she was psychic. John intended to scare off any unsavory elements with his male bulk and the heavy pistol obviously belted at his hip.
They exited the Docking Bay into the central hub of the colony, such as it was. Alyssa stayed on foot, not hailing a cab. John stuck in her shadow, noticing all the attention they both were drawing just by breathing. Their tan skin and height made them major outliers in the crowd. Throw in Alyssa’s looks and his pointed ears, and people were literally pointing.
Alyssa ignored all the eyes on them, moving with purpose down each street, taking each turn with absolute confidence she was going the right way. They eventually reached a tunnel entrance and then John got hopelessly lost as he followed his Matriarch into a labyrinth of cramped, uneven passages hollowed through the heart of the massive rock. Alyssa knew the way like the back of her hand, though, and by 1700 they had reached Diablo territory. As evidenced by how every able-bodied man they passed was wearing crimson and obviously armed. They were watched but not stopped as Alyssa led John to a bolted door with two guards.
“Whatchu want, chief?” one of the lookouts asked, dismissing Alyssa for the simple fact she was female.
Alyssa cleared her throat fearlessly, then gave a winsome grin. “We’re here to buy some custom gear from Sparks. We don’t want any trouble.” She reached into her pockets and pulled out two disposable cred-sticks. The small screen built into the side of each showed a solid ‘100’ in block numbers. “For your assistance,” she said with her grin firmly in place as she offered them.
Helpless to deny such an obvious ‘gift’, the guards called in two visitors on their walkie-talkies. The door was opened from the other side, and Alyssa led John into the heart of the gang she’d lived with for almost 4 years as Sparks’ assistant.
John was struck by the stink of sweat and spilled drinks and cigarette smoke, which he supposed wasn’t surprising for an all-male gang’s ‘safe’ space. He followed Alyssa, doing his best to glare at every single ganger who wolf-whistled or rather obviously leered at Alyssa as she walked deeper into the base. She walked with confidence down a side-tunnel until they reached a turn. She paused.
*First rule with Sparks, just look her in the eye. She hates it when people can’t handle her facial scar. Second rule, let me do all the talking. Got it?* Alyssa projected.
*Sure, honey,* John agreed through their link.
Alyssa took a preparatory breath and then went around the corner of the turn, John in her wake. “Sparks! Been a minute, how you been?”
John’s eyes cased the small cavern. A lot of dated engineering equipment, a gleaming wall-rack with spotlights filled with rather impressive looking guns, and that was pretty much it. Half-finished projects littered the tables and floor, apparently left whenever and wherever their creator had a fresh idea or changed her mind. At one table, a 5’2 wiry female in coveralls was working on something with a blowtorch. She turned off the torch and looked up, lifting her mask with a glove-covered hand.
John had seen some gruesome scars in his time in the Marines among senior officers who lived to talk about it. Still, he almost gagged when he saw the vivid red burn scar that covered a full half of Sparks’ face. Based on what he knew about scar tissue and how various types of wounds healed, it looked like a scalding liquid had splashed right on her and she had been left to recover with little to no treatment. With how it stretched and wrinkled at the edges, she had gotten it young and it had grown with her. How old must she have been when it happened?
Moving past that, John took in more details about the woman who’d saved his first love’s life, or so she insisted. Albino pale skin that had never felt the touch of a sun. Short ginger hair, gelled up into spikes. Her eyes were an interesting heterochromatic sky blue with inner rings of gold. While not as painfully skinny as Alyssa had been, she could certainly use a few solid meals. In all, apart from the scar, she seemed like an average asteroid colonist.
“Guns are over there, Blondie,” Sparks said dismissively, waving at the rack before lowering her mask and reaching for a flint to reignite her torch.
“Sparks, take two seconds from your ‘blacksmith goddess’ routine and look at me,” Alyssa said firmly, tone bright but forceful.
Sparks huffed an annoyed sigh, but set the torch aside. She lifted the mask and tossed it on the table, pulling off her gloves and tossing them aside as well. She turned to look at Alyssa, clear frustration on her face. If you could look past the scar or how gaunt her cheeks were, she actually had excellent bone structure, looking almost elven or pixie-like.
“Fine, I’m looking at you. The fuck are you bothering me for, Blondie?” Sparks bit out, crossing her arms over a chest flat as a pancake.
“Look in my eyes and tell me you don’t recognize me,” Alyssa said softly.
Sparks rolled her eyes, narrowed them for effect, then turned away. “Yeah, don’t recognize you. Sorry, Blondie, now either buy something or get out, I got shit to do.”
“Sparks, I swear to your lucky penny, stop fucking around and take this seriously,” Alyssa ordered, her voice getting a bit sharp.
Sparks froze. She whirled around to look at Alyssa. “How do you know about that? The only person who knows about that is dead!”
“Is that what they told you?” Alyssa sighed. “Guess it makes sense, less embarrassing for Bulldog if they killed me for sticking Georgio rather than I managed to escape. Though I figure you of all people wouldn’t have believed them without seeing my body.”
“Seriously, what the fuck?!” Sparks demanded. She marched right up to Alyssa and took her first honest look at her face past a spare glance. Alyssa met her gaze calmly. Sparks’ face twisted with shock. “No fucking way… Alyssa?”
“Took you a minute, Sparks,” Alyssa huffed with affection.
“Prove it. More than just the penny,” Sparks barked.
“You got your name from the orphanage when you were playing with a bad plug and two loose wires and kept making ‘sparks’. Before that you were ‘Girl in Bunk C9’. You got your scar when you were trying to fix a faulty generator and it blew up in your face when you were 8. You shot the Yellow Jackal who almost killed me during the raid where they tried to kidnap you with that TBM. You sewed me up after the Fletcher Brothers’ fight where I got cut from here to here. It’s me, Sparks, Alyssa Marant,” Alyssa listed calmly, tracing a path from her hip almost to her bellybutton at the end.
Sparks’ jaw had dropped. “Fuck me running… it’s really you. But it can’t be ‘you’, you look so different! What, did they rip out your brain and stuff it in an android?”
“No, I’m not a robot. I tried a new diet. I highly recommend it,” Alyssa said, now a bit playful. “Look, I can give you the long answer later. For now, the short answer is I hit the karmic lottery and stowed away with one of the nicest and also most powerful men in the galaxy when I ran away two months ago. This is John Blake.”
John stepped forward, offering his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sparks. Alyssa speaks quite highly of you.”
“Uh-huh,” Sparks said, guard clearly up even as she took his hand for a quick shake. “So, what, you shelled out for whatever bodysculpt Alyssa got?”
“It wasn’t a bodysculpt,” Alyssa said before John could answer. “Seriously, Sparks, we can sit down and hash out all the details later. Right here, right now, you just need to decide whether you stay or whether you come with us.”
Sparks stared at her in incomprehension. “What are you talking about? I can’t leave. I’m the Diablos’ best asset, I’m in for life, Bulldog would never sell me.”
“Don’t worry about all that. If you could leave this room and never come back, if you could come away with me and John and leave Karron far behind, would you? Yes or no, Sparks?” Alyssa pressed.
“What about all my equipment? I spent years finding or making all this shit!” Sparks asked, waving a hand to indicate the whole cavern.
“Cheap scrap. Come with us, and you have my word you can get shit straight out the Engineers’ Almanac. Current year, at that,” Alyssa said with an assured smile, confident she was going to win.
“Alyssa, even a set of manual tools from the Almanac goes for almost 10 thousand credits!” Sparks protested.
“And John here has over 50 million credits to spare. Last chance, Sparks: stay here as the Diablos’ slave, or run away with me. I need an answer,” Alyssa insisted.
Sparks bit her lip, suddenly looking so young. “Alyssa, you know I want to say ‘yes’, but it’s impossible.”
“All I heard was ‘yes’. That’s that, then,” Alyssa smirked. “Now, you won’t understand what’s about to happen. Just trust me, okay? You won’t get hurt.”
“You’re really freaking me out, Marant,” Sparks said with a harsh frown, her moment of weakness gone.
“John, do your thing,” Alyssa said, ignoring her friend’s words.
John, debating if this was really the best way to do this, nonetheless activated the Shadow Rune and focused intently. With an effort of will and expenditure of mana, an illusion surrounded Sparks’ body to make her effectively invisible.
“Holy fucking shitballs! I’m invisible?” came a terrified squeak from the hidden redhead.
“Just keep your mouth shut and keep moving, okay Sparks? Follow us out of here and then you’re free, ‘kay?” Alyssa said.
“You owe me so many answers, Alyssa you bitch, but fine. Shutting up… now,” Sparks said, a mix of amazed and petulant.
The majority of John’s focus on maintaining the illusion with Umbrakinesis, he followed Alyssa back out the Diablos’ base and then again through tunnels until they left their territory behind. His superhuman hearing could pick up Sparks’ footsteps and heartbeat, so he knew where to move the illusion to keep her covered. At Alyssa’s nod, John finally released the psychic working, resolved to put in some hours getting more familiar with the Shadow Rune and its applications going forward.
“Okay, how the fuck did he do that?” Sparks asked once visible again, hooking a thumb to point at John.
“You’re better with math and chemistry and hard sciences than squishy biology, but does ‘triple-helix’ DNA mean anything to you?” Alyssa asked rhetorically.
“But that’s what the Grays have! What is he, some secret experiment by the T-Fed to make psychic Terrans?” Sparks demanded.
“‘He’ can hear you and can speak for himself,” John cut in before Alyssa could answer. “Sparks, this is hardly the time and place. Let’s get you secure before we launch into lengthy explanations.”
Sparks looked over her shoulder, as if remembering how close they were to her former captors. “Right. Back to shutting up. But you both owe me, got it?”
“Yes, Sparks,” Alyssa said with an eyeroll. But she was smiling wide, clearly pleased that their mission to rescue Sparks seemed to be going successfully.
Alyssa led both John and Sparks back to the main hub of Karron, and then to the entrance to Docking Bay 3. A small crowd had gathered, Karronites coming to gawk and stare at an actual military warship. Based on a couple scorch marks in the floor, Calara had even been forced to warn a few off. Alyssa cut through the crowd, John and Sparks in her wake, and walked right up to the airlock. She held her palm to the DNA reader, making the outer door whir open.
John and Alyssa both relaxed as soon as the outer door closed behind them and they got a breath of ‘fresh’ air. Sparks was wide-eyed. “Alyssa, what the fuck? Like, times infinity. You look like a holo-model, you seem to have picked up a rich psychic boytoy, you’ve got a cruiser-type… What the actual fuck?”
“We actually still have business to get done, so you’ll have to wait just a little longer. Why don’t we get you settled into your room and you can take a shower with as much hot water as you want?” Alyssa said with a knowing smirk.
Sparks made a sound that had John’s cock twitching, to his embarrassment. “No shit? Hot shower? Why didn’t you mention that back in my workshop, I’d have been here yesterday!”
Alyssa burst into laughter, leading a wide-eyed Sparks to the elevator. John hung in the doorway as Alyssa guided Sparks into the officer’s quarters opposite Calara’s room and pointed her towards the bathroom. “I’ll just leave something clean for you to wear on the bed,” Alsysa said as Sparks rushed into the ensuite and slammed the door behind her.
*Victory!* Alyssa cheered in her thoughts as she went to fetch the body-sleeve that was probably the only thing onboard that would properly fit Sparks with its ability to stretch and shrink around whoever wore it.
*We got her away from the Diablos, still have to handle the whole ‘Valkyrie’ talk. But I’m happy for you, honey,* John projected with patience and love to his Matriarch.
Alyssa tossed the body-sleeve on the empty bunk and went with John back to the elevator. They got out at Deck 9, took a moment to brace like scuba-divers before submersion, and then left the airlock again.
The crowd of onlookers parted, not wanting to piss off the obviously rich visitors. That would mean less credits being added to circulation and screw all of them over. This time, they did hail a cab, and John soon found himself in a bit of deja vu as he sat down opposite Seb Mortimer. At least Alyssa was by his side this time.
“John Blake! As I live and breathe! Back for a second bite?” Mortimer said with a bright grin. It didn’t reach his eyes.
John lightly touched the Empathy Rune and skimmed the surface of Mortimer’s emotions. Murderous rage was his immediate impression.
*Well, guess he found out he undersold that ore,* John thought lightly.
*But is he going to call you on it or can we finagle a sale before he launches whatever revenge plot he’s cooked up?* Alyssa thought back.
“Indeed I am,” John replied, the mental exchange having taken less than a second with the speed of Telepathy. “How much more Tyrenium do you have in stock?”
“My boys finally tapped that vein out. Got another 20 tons in storage,” Mortimer said, still pretending to be happy to see John.
Figuring it was worth a shot, John asked “Same price per ton as last time? I’ll take it all, 5 million up front.”
“Sure thing, sure thing,” Mortimer agreed with that fake smile. “Can we skip the auth routine, though? It just takes so long and it’s a technicality anyway.”
“Afraid not,” John said, waiting to see how far this act would go and how far he could milk it.
Mortimer visibly struggled, but then he agreed to log the transaction with the Merchant’s Guild. John was as good as his word, transferring 5 million credits to Mortimer’s chit as soon as confirmation came back from the Core Worlds. Now Mortimer had to deliver the goods or John would be within his rights to sue.
“I’ll just get my boys to load up the ore and deliver it to your new ship! A decommissioned cruiser-type, huh? You really traded up from your old freighter, didn’t ya?” Mortimer asked, a bit of bite slipping into his words.
“Indeed,” John nodded. Then the lights flickered and his eyes faintly glowed the blue of his psychic aura. “And you will not make any moves to harm or steal from me and mine,” he added, reaching out eldritch fingers to touch Mortimer’s mental and emotional cores to place the compulsion.
“Right…” Mortimer said in a daze, his feeble Terran mind overwhelmed by the manipulations of an active Progenitor.
The moment passed and Mortimer recovered, contacting a team to load the right ore crates into a transport. He waved them out the door, whatever plan he had to take his vengeance suppressed by John’s subtle mind control.
John and Alyssa hitched a ride to Docking Bay 3 in the ore hauler, the driver blushing at Alyssa’s sheer presence. The industrious miners did good work when they reached the Invictus, lugging the ore crates with grav-sleds and laying them on the Cargo Bay’s floor with cranes. John gave generous tips chit-to-chit for each of them, most of them lighting up at getting a week’s pay for a single task. John closed the Cargo Bay doors behind them, him and Alyssa fully relaxing once the retractable wall sealed and they were secure once more.
“I can’t believe that worked,” Alyssa shook her head, regarding the 8 ore creates that held a virtual fortune in rare metal. “Think he was planning to ambush us with his mercenaries as soon as he ‘delivered’ the cargo and then steal it back along with the Invictus?”
“Probably. Glad we could side-step that whole mess,” John nodded.
“I’ll go check on Sparks. You head up to the Bridge and check on Calara. I’ll bring Sparks up when she’s ready and I’ll pilot us out of here,” Alyssa planned out their next move.
John agreed, and the pair of them went to the elevator. Alyssa got out on Deck 2, blowing a kiss as the doors closed behind her. John went up another deck to the Bridge, and walked over to where Calara was still manning her Tactical station.
“How many attempts?” John asked.
“Most were warned away by me declaring us off-limits over the speakers. One gang in purple trenchcoats led a charge but I scared them all off before they reached the airlock. Otherwise it was just kids or idiots who ignored my voice and needed a near-miss with the lasers. 4 total, all told,” Calara reported.
“Any other issues?” John asked.
“No, sir,” Calara shook her head.
The elevator doors opened, and Alyssa glided out with Sparks as an awkward shadow. Her hair, the gel washed out, only fell to about her chin. The body-sleeve clung to her skintight and highlighted the fact that she was underweight even for her small size.
“And this is the Bridge. No drooling, please,” Alyssa said to a wide-eyed Sparks as she went to take her XO Chair. “Oh, and this is Calara. She works Tactical. I’m John’s XO, by the way. We’re hoping to hire you as our Chief Engineer, but there’s a few strings attached.”
“I’m picking up on that,” Sparks said weakly, seemingly intimidated by the presence of yet another stranger.
Alyssa focused on her job, hailing Flight Control and getting clearance. She used the retro-thrusters expertly to reverse them past the atmospheric force field and out the tunnel back to outer space. Graceful as a swan, she turned the Invictus to face the right direction and ignited the engines. She made a point of projecting the System Map above all their heads for the whole room to see.
“Say goodbye to Karron, Sparks. We never have to come back. Never ever,” Alyssa said as they reached the edge of the gravity well.
Sparks just stared at the holographic representation of her home for the last 18 years. She gulped, apparently overcome by emotion. Then her face hardened and she flipped the bird with both hands. “See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya, motherfuckers!”
Alyssa’s laughter filled the Bridge as she activated the FTL Drive and they sailed away at hyper-warp, leaving Omicron Ceti far behind.