Chapter 1

"Professor Jocelyn Peabody slipped the flask back into the incubator. The experiment appeared to be proceeding well. The effects of cosmic radiation seemed much as predicted but she would need to check the culture in another four hours to be sure. She noted the time on her clipboard and waited as the panel door from the laboratory hissed open. She pushed a loose blonde hair back into place and stepped out into the corridor.

As she headed along the gangway, towards her cabin, she was suddenly aware of another presence, something watching her, something near.

She turned, caught a glimpse of a single green tentacle and then, catching her heel in the steel grating of the gangway, fell backwards on the steel platform, knocking the breath from her body, and letting her clipboard spin from her grasp.

Before she could scream the beast was upon her. One tentacle pinioned her wrists above her head, another snaked across her face, the rim of a sucker encircling her lips in an obscene alien kiss. As she gasped to breathe, a fleshy proboscis erupted from the centre of the sucker, pressing between her teeth and filling her mouth, preventing the slightest cry.

She could see nothing beyond the bulk of the warty green flesh of the tentacle that pressed across her mouth but felt another tentacle encircle her waist, pinioning her to the walkway and others locking her ankles, first left then right, against the stanchions of the walkway hand rails.

As she struggled and tried in vain to scream, choking against the creature's fleshy gag, a single yellow eye rose over her like a malevolent, watery, sun. Beneath it a sharp, parrot like beak, snicked menacingly, sulphurous-smelling drool, dripping from it as a grey, scaly, tongue darted back and forth.

Peabody watched in terror as the eye sank back behind the tentacle once more, then heard the sharp click of the beak as she felt it snatch at the buttons of her lab coat and then her blouse. As the beak snatched and tore at her clothes, cold drips of the sulphurous saliva fell across her breasts. She felt as much as heard the beast give a grunt, seemingly of satisfaction. Then, her wrists still locked immobile, her waist still clamped to the floor, the tentacles about her ankles loosened and their tips began probing upwards, along her stocking clad calves and on, beneath the hem of her skirt.

As she tried to struggle she felt the tentacle across her mouth stiffen locking her head rigidly. Two smaller tendrils snaked up towards her forehead, latching on to her temple with smaller suckers. As the suckers attached the beast could see every emotion, every sensation that the Professor was experiencing as it explored her body. And Professor Peabody could see into the mind of the beast, its every lust and desire clear.

Still trying to scream, her terror given voice by her vision of the beast's intentions, Professor Peabody fainted…."

Navigation Officer - 3 ^rd Class, Garan Duufrig was stirred from his reading by the insistent flash of an amber lamp on the panel in front of him. He let go the copy of Astounding Stories, letting it hang in zero gravity just where he left it. "Huurr," he thought as he turned to the panel. "Always at a good bit…" Duufrig loved these space romances, though why the heroine was always a pasty earth girl with only four limbs, he never could work out. Still they knew how to give a guy a good time and that was the main thing.

Chapter 2

"Hey, that was close!" Kelli Failtie exclaimed as the skimmer skated around the edge of a giant bluestone butte and dropped down towards the plain below.

"You stick to your 'scope and let me worry about missing the mountains," grinned her companion. "I slid us in past that freighter easy enough, didn't I?" Shana Wilson was an expert skimmer pilot but sometimes Kelli felt she pushed her luck -their luck – just a bit too far for comfort. It was bad enough that they were definitely off limits here – the planet was supposed to be a conservation area – they didn't need to pick up a dent in the skimmer as well. "Any sign of it?"

Shana eased the skimmer back onto a flat trajectory. The head-up display gave her a readout of speed, altitude, g-force and fuel remaining. All looked good. Kelli's job was to watch for the targets. She picked up an echo on her scope and called the range. "It's back on the board," she said, "about 5 clicks at ten o'clock. Below us and moving up."

The blip on Kelli's scope was a farang – one of the last of the giant flying lizard creatures in this part of the galaxy. It was a protected species, of course. You couldn't kill one but that didn't stop folk stalking them for the sport of a high speed chase. Pursuing a farang in full flight could be guaranteed to give you the ride of your life around the peaks and valleys of this barren planet. Some of the space agencies were getting hacked off with the problems that folk could get into on these deep space safaris but that didn't stop them – for thrill seekers like Kelli and Shana a farang chase presented the ultimate challenge to pilot and navigator alike.

"Four clicks, eleven o'clock, moving right. You should have it visual, now," Kelli called.

"No – no - no," Shana answered, "Ah, got it! Whee!" The skimmer pulled around as the farang darted right. Kelli kelt the blood drain to her feet as the G kicked in followed by the kick in the back from the boosters as Shana engaged more power to follow the farang down into the canyon ahead. "One point four clicks, one point two, one, point eight." Shana called the range from the HUD as they closed on the farang.

"Camera gun running," confirmed Kelli, "this'll be one for the album."

"Point four, point three, point – SHIT!"

"What the?" Kelli looked up from her scope to see a cliff wall skimming close by the cockpit canopy as Shana pulled the craft hard up and over to the left. They cleared the wall of the canyon as the farang drove off to the right.

"Its OK," called Shana, "the stupid beast ducked on the fly-by, must have been scared by skimmers before. I missed it though and .." – BANG – "Oh, no!"

"Loosing power on all units," called Kelli, "I thought you said you missed it! Altitude's unwinding and so is the speed, but I guess you've spotted that."

"Sure I missed it. It's just that it didn't miss me. The tail clipped us as we pulled up. I can keep the skimmer flat but the ground looks pretty lumpy." She paused. "Oh, double shit!!"

There was another thunderous bang as the skimmer clipped the ground, the left stabilizer dug in and span them around, burning off what remaining forward momentum they had. With a juddering and a hissing whine from the skimmer's dieing engine, the craft slid to a halt.

"Are you OK?"

"Ugh. I think so. All the bits that should move seem to."

"Come on then Kelli, suit up and let's get out!" urged Shana. Kelli needed no second telling, she was already into to her evac suit and cranking on her helmet, tucking her long auburn hair into it. Once Shana pulled her own suit and helmet on, Kelli pulled the jettison lever on the cockpit wall and the canopy cracked open and slid back. The two girls managed to get clear of the wreck as the skimmer's hull cracked in half as the left hand engine pod slid down the slope to explode at the foot of another bluestone butte.

The two girls looked back at what was left of their skimmer. "I guess we had better hope that there is someone awake on that freighter after all," said Kelli dragging a survival pack from the wreckage. "Let's start up the mayday beacon and hope they hear it."

Chapter 3

"Steve Perron picked his way through the debris of the wrecked laboratory. He held his ray gun at the ready. It was clear that someone had stopped at nothing in their search for the cultures. The incubator had been smashed. The flasks had gone. Someone had got what they came for. Someone, or something. The door on the far side was wrenched from its frame. What ever had done this had used considerable force. Steve kept his finger on the trigger of the ray gun as he edged through the gap where the door had been.

As he cleared the door way he saw Jocelyn's shoe, the heel still jammed in the walkway. He knew now that there was more than a wrecked laboratory to worry about. He found the professor moments later still sprawled on the walkway. Perron knew at once he was dealing with a sline beast attack. He should have guessed from the stench of sulphur in the lab but the slumped form of the scientist confirmed it.

Jocelyn lay on her back, eyes wide open, mouth wide open, her body rigid with terror. Perron crouched beside her. He could tell that she was still breathing but Perron knew there would be no chance of reviving her yet – that would take many days, if they could succeed at all. Her mouth was ringed with the characteristic scaly callus left behind by a sline beast's sucker kiss - she would have almost choked on the fleshy gag. Two small burns on Jocelyn's forehead showed where the sline beast's probes had attached themselves.

The beast's motive in its attack was clear - Peabody's lab coat was torn open and her blouse ripped; her skirt was torn from hem to hip, laying bare her legs. Almost every inch of her flesh was covered with v-shaped peck marks from the beast's beak, each drawing a small bead of blood at the tip of the v; behind each peck, a purple mark from the tongue. There was nothing that Steve could do for her, she needed medical attention. All he could do was to summon a crash team, warning them to be on the look out for the beast.

Perron could see where the beast had gone - a trail of silver encrustation tracked along an adjoining gangway. He followed it towards the science bay's air lock. There he found the second victim.

He didn't recognise her but the name tag on the tattered remains of her Space Corps tunic told him it was Technical Officer Karen Shaw – she must have been working at the air lock when the beast attacked.

A red wheal up one side of her head showed that the creature had struck out from a distance with a tentacle, knocking her unconscious with a single whip like blow. From what Perron knew of sline beasts this would have been calculated just to render its victim helpless. He could imagine the creature winding its tentacles around the young officer's body. Sucker calluses spiralling up her legs and around her body showed how it had done this. Then it would have attached its tendrils to her forehead – Shaw bore the same burn marks as Peabody had - and waited until she recovered consciousness, delighting in its victim's terror as she awoke.

Perron could only imagine what it must have been like for the young girl, waking to feel her body locked in the rigid embrace of the sline beast's tentacles, seeing the horrific yellow eye and the creature's beak, and then, worst of all, seeing inside the creature's alien mind, every carnal lust revealed

Shaw's lips were surrounded by the same callus that showed she had been gagged just as Peabody was. The choking effect of the gagging flesh would have been made worse by the way in which the creature would have responded to every whimper and groan. Each muffled cry would have served only to heighten its arousal as Shaw would have realised from her horrific insight into the sline beast's mind. It was no surprise that her mouth gaped and eyes stared wide in terror just as those of the scientist had.

The beast had evidently taken its time, confident that it had surprised both its victims and aroused no attention. It appeared to have been fascinated by Shaw's body. Her tunic had been shredded by the creature's beak. Perron could see how the sleeves of her tunic had burst at the seams as tentacles had pushed their way up them. Her underwear had been stripped away as well. If he had thought about it, Perron might have appreciated the sline beast's enthusiasm for its victim but he was more concerned to help her and to track down the attacker.

Shaw's torso was covered with tiny sucker calluses, obviously the creature had probed every corner of her body with the very tips of its tentacles. Her breasts and belly were blemished by beak and tongue marks, as were her neck and thighs.

But in time the beast had finished. Discarding the girl beside the airlock door, it had left the base - the trail of silver slime showed its path into the airlock and from there it would have gone out into the airless expanse of the dead planet beyond.

Steve Perron put in another call for a medical team to attend to Shaw but now the problems really started. How had the dammed thing got into the science bay in the first place?....."

Garan Duufrig was distracted again. The amber lamp had turned red and was flashing more urgently than before. He flipped the magazine away impatiently, leaving it floating in zero-g behind him. He pressed the reset button a few times and then tried ignoring it for a while. The lamp carried on flashing. He'd have to do something about it and that meant he wouldn't be spending much time thinking about the delights of a tentacular embrace with Technical Officer Shaw.

He hit the intercom button on the panel. A view screen showing the warty face of the helmsman flickered into life. "Navigation Station," Duufrig announced, "I've got a mayday from the planet surface."

Chapter 4

Kelli and Shana were crouched beside the remains of the skimmer, looking disconsolately across the planet's bleak, blue-grey, rock strewn landscape. Kelli had the locator-sender in her hand. It couldn't handle sub-space speech transmissions but at least it gave them some hope of rescue. Kelli was conserving power by only scanning for a response every half hour so, when she did pick up the incoming craft, it was almost in visual range.

"Come on Shana," she cheered. "Looks like there was someone awake up there after all. Better make ourselves presentable, they should be over that ridge any second."

Shana got to her feet just as the craft crested the ridge that their skimmer had hit. Compared with the sleek silver skimmer, the incoming craft had nothing of elegance about it. It was a shabby, grey coloured, box surrounded by pipes, cable runs and antennae. Three padded feet extended on hydraulic legs as the craft hissed to a standstill overhead. It began to settle down to the surface. It was perhaps five times the size of the skimmer and twenty times uglier. However, as Shana and Kelli both realized it had one thing going for it. It had working engines and showed every sign of being their passport off the planet.

A door slid open and a ramp extended out of the craft's belly. Two tracked robots equipped with articulated arms emerged and trundled down on to the planet's surface. A stalk carrying what appeared to be a camera extended out from the top of one of the robots and appeared to survey the scene. The two girls waited while, with flashing lights the two robots appeared to communicate with their mother ship. Then, ignoring the girls, the machines headed across to the skimmer and began cutting it up and carting the pieces back into the belly of the craft. The girls watched, puzzled, as the last piece of the engine pod was hauled from the gulley into which it had fallen. One of the tracked robots withdrew up the ramp. The other circled in front of Kelli and Shana. It gestured towards the crafts hold with a wave of one of its arms.

"Not much of a conversationalist," Shana joked.

"I think we can live with it, I thought they were going to take the wreckage and leave us behind," Kelli replied as the two stepped up the ramp into the belly of the craft. Pieces of the skimmer were strapped to the walls of the hold but at the far end were two seats. Kelli and Shana claimed them as the second robot followed them into the hold. Each slipped into their seat harness. They fastened and tightened their lap and shoulder straps in preparation for take off. Arm and ankle restraints clicked out from the couches to protect them from sudden changes in g-force. The ramp slid up and with clunking from the craft's landing pads and a slow hiss from the engines as they overcame the planet's relatively weak gravitational field, the craft took off.

After the skimmer, progress in the shuttle was slow but soon the girls were aware of hissing and deceleration as the craft slowed. Kelli's locator sender showed that the craft they were on was approaching a much larger one. "Here comes our ride home," she chirped, showing Shana the display on the device. "Must be that freighter we passed on the way in." The two blips on the display merged as the craft docked and the hold doors on the shuttle once again hissed open.

It was then that Kelli tried to release her harness. "Dammed harness release is jammed," she called across to Shana. "Give me a hand out, can you?"

"Sorry, girl. Mine's stuck too," Shana replied. "Stupid thing should quick release."

The two girls continued to struggle with the seat restraints, not hearing the entry doors to the shuttle's bay hiss open. Moments later they looked up to see two lobster-like creatures standing beside them.

Kelli's comment summed it up. "Oh shit, Gnarriots."

"Welcome aboard, ladies," the taller of the two intoned. "Perhaps you'd like to join us in the main ship. These shuttles are so cramped, don't you think?"

"Do we get a choice?" Shana was still struggling with her seat restraints.

"No, not really," the Gnarriot came back. "You could of course stay here and see how soon you loose enough weight to slip out of those cuffs but I wouldn't recommend it. I think it will be better if you come with us, now." The creature gestured with the weapon it held in one of its claws.

"OK, we'll come quietly," said Kelli.

"Excellent. Now, if you will just raise your hands in the approved manner," the taller Gnarriot flicked one of its feelers down to each of the seats in turn and pressed a button to the rear. The arm and leg restraints clipped open and the harness buckle opened. Each girl got to her feet and raised her hands above her head. The two Gnarriots marched them towards the exit doors.

Kelli and Shana had a drill agreed for a situation like this. Go along with things until you get the first chance. Then yell "Go!" and make a break for it. They got half way along the corridor from the shuttle bay when Shana spotted a half open door. Maybe another corridor that could lead back to the bay and then off in the shuttle. She got as far as forming "Go!" in her mind when a Gnarriot feeler snaked out and gripped her around the throat. Her hands went up to grasp at the leathery tendril as she fell choking to her knees. Kelli went to help her and earned the same treatment from the other Gnarriot.

"Stupid move ladies," the taller one snarled. "Don't try to think you can do anything like that again. You Sol planet girls are all really good telepathic emitters, even if you can't hear it yourselves. Now hands up again, please, and let's go."

The girls were pulled back to their feet by the feelers around their throats and the two lobster creatures pushed them forward along the corridor and down to the cells that were to become their new home.

Inside the cell the Gnarriots confronted their captives. "Take off the evac suits please. We'll need to put them through decontamination."

Faced with a wave of encouragement from the Gnarriot's weapons the two girls complied. "And the rest of your clothes too, please. We don't wish to take chances."

"Sure and you don't mind getting to clock our bodies, either," thought Kelli as she stripped of the tee shirt, shorts, bra and pants she'd been wearing.

The taller Gnarriott turned towards her. "Please remember, we can hear what you're thinking," he said. "I can't say I object to seeing your body but I prefer my own kind, if you don't mind. Not that I am species-ist or anything. So just get naked. If you're worrying about anyone 'clocking' your body, you'd better talk to your friend."

"Hey, you shit," spat Shana who had already stripped off her shirt and cut offs.

"You'll get over it," the other Gnariott retorted, gathering up their clothes. "Like I say, if you don't want us to know, don't even think it. Don't go away." He slammed the door as the two of them left. The girls heard the bolts on the outside clang into place.

The two girls sat down on the cold steel bench that ran along the back wall of the cell. The lights went out, plunging the cell into total blackness. "Oh, Kelli, I'm so sorry," said Shana to her friend.

"Hey, what's to worry about? I think I've got a great bod. Why shouldn't you like it? You never said, though."

"I didn't mean about that. I meant about the crash. It was all my fault."

"Yeah, sure. And you pushed me into the skimmer at gun point too. Look, don't worry about it, it isn't going to help. We've got to look out for each other. Hey, come here." She reached for her friend in the darkness and the two grasped at each other for comfort. As they held each other, comfort turned to something else. Soon the two were kissing with an urgency and passion. "Hey," said Shana, pulling back for a moment, "what do you mean - I never said. Am I wrong or are you as keen about this as I am."

"Let's just say we're both scared right now and we need each other."

Garan Duufrig leant forward at the console peering intently. For once he was pleased with his assignment though he hadn't thought much of it when they had called him down from the navigation deck. He turned up the gain on the infra-red surveillance camera. Maybe guard duty wasn't too bad after all he thought. It's not often you get the chance to watch a couple of human females going at it together. Sure beats the hell out of Astounding Stories, he grinned.

Chapter 5

"Nursing Officer Jane Hibron sat reading in the medi-centre, one ear open for the slightest change in regular bleeps coming from the monitors attached to her two patients. Joceyln Peabody and Karen Shaw lay in their cots under heavy sedation. A drug induced sleep had been prescribed as the only likely way to allow their minds to recover from the terrifying shock of the sline beast's attacks. In spite of the heavy dosage, every so often one of the girls would stir and shudder as deep in their minds they relived the horror. They had been quiet for almost an hour now. Perhaps this was a good sign, Jane thought.

She put down her book, smoothed down her white uniform tunic and crossed the room to note down the readings from their monitors on the girl's records. As she reached the professor's bedside she felt a peculiar sensation, an awareness of another presence in the medi-centre, a slight pungent, sulphurous smell. A moment later Jane's feet were pulled from under her by something grasping her ankles from behind.

Jane fell back against the cot, hitting her head against the frame. Stunned, she could offer no resistance as she realised she was in the grip of the beast that had attacked her patients. A tentacle was wrapped about her ankles and another about her chest fixing her arms in place. The beast drew her up until she was directly facing the single eye and the beast's beak. Still dazed by the speed of the attack she began to try to struggle against the beast's grip. The single eye stared at her, seemingly puzzled by her efforts. Another tentacle reached out to grip her head.

Suddenly the beast gave a short grunt, a blob of material shot from a vent just above the beast's beak, striking Jane in the face, covering her mouth. She tried to shake it free but felt it setting to a rubbery firmness. She tried to open her mouth but the rubbery material held it shut. The beast continued to watch as she struggled. Seeming to be satisfied that she could not free herself from the glutinous gag, the creature released the tentacle around her head and shot another blob of material onto her chest. Jane looked down as the creature reached for the blob with the tip of a tentacle and drew out a filament from it, pulling it out as a long fibre. The sline beast wound the fibre around and around her chest, locking her arms to her sides. Another blob was deposited on her thigh and a filament drawn out around her legs and ankles. Slowly she felt the fibres stiffen and tighten fixing her in an ever more secure grip. The beast placed her on the floor of the room and watched her struggles for a moment or two more, then happy that she could not free herself, it turned its attentions to the two patients.

The beast slid over to the two cots where the barely conscious women lay. It knocked aside the drip stands and tore off the monitor sensors, starting bleeping alarms that at once alarmed the beast. It pulled away the sheets that covered each of the women and then set to cocooning them just as it had Jane. With Jocelyn and Karen bound helplessly in the rubbery filaments it lifted itself up into the ceiling space through a broken panel. Reaching down with its tentacles it picked up each of its captives in turn and drew them up after it. All that remained of the three was a white mule that had fallen from Jane's foot as she had been dragged into the ceiling space.

Attracted by the sound of the alarms, Steve Perron came running into the medi-bay, ray gun at the ready. "Great heavens," he exclaimed as he surveyed the scene, picking over the debris and finding Jane's discarded, white mule. "The thing has obviously got back in and claimed its previous victims as well as the nurse. We have to find them and find it before it strikes again."

Madeleine Perron sat down at the dressing table in her cabin. She had about half an hour, she thought, before she and Steve would need to head off for their dinner. Being entertained by the Base Commander didn't happen very often and it was an excuse to get dressed up and have a really good evening. Steve ought to be back by now but he usually rolled up with hardly any time to spare. Somehow, though, he could throw on his dress uniform in a couple of minutes but still look great. For Madeleine though it took a little longer.

As she went to pickup the jar of hair gel to make the last few touches she noticed a dribble of goo on the table top. She didn't remember spilling anything.

It smelled foul too – it certainly wasn't any of her stuff. Then another drip. It seemed to be coming from the ceiling. Better call maintenance, she thought, looks like there's a leaking pipe up there.

Madeleine was pretty happy with how she looked. The dress was stunning. Golden, tight and off the shoulders, its 20 ^th century, retro, look would certainly turn some heads. Her neck piece was eye catching too – a necklet of solid gold. Steve would be proud of her.

She heard a noise behind her, but carried on peering into the mirror. Her eye make up was taking a lot of fixing.

"Hi, honey," she called. "I won't be long. Your uniform's on the bed."

She felt a soft touch on her shoulder.

"Oh, not now lover," she said smiling. "There'll be plenty of time to play later."

The touch moved down across her back and started to draw down the zipper of her dress. "Come on, Steve, cut it out!" She span around on her stool, saw a warty green tentacle stretching down from a hole in the ceiling and, almost at once, let out a piercing scream and struck out at the tentacle with her hair curling tongs.

Startled by the sudden noise and the blow, the sline beast reacted. The tentacle swung around and caught Madeleine across the forehead, leaving a bright red wheal and stunning her into silence. She slid from the stool, half conscious. Grunting in annoyance, the beast wrapped a tentacle around her waist and pulled her unconscious form up into the ceiling space.

Following the trail of the beast up above the medi-centre, Steve Perron had worked his way into the gap between the ceiling and the roof of the cave that the base had been built into. He'd had no idea that this other world existed above their heads, a world of pipes and ducting, insulation, discarded packing cases and construction debris. Walkways were in place to allow access to the service ducts and wiring and the trail of the beast was heading along one toward the accommodation block and the far wall of the base.

Steve eased himself as quietly as he could along the walkway until he could finally see the back wall of the cave. There alongside a bright yellow outcrop of sulphurous rock he could see the sline beast and its victims.

Peabody and Shaw were still cocooned in the sline creature's rubbery ropes. He had them hanging suspended from the roof of the cave, held up by a harness like arrangement of the excretion that left them swaying helplessly. Both still appeared to be unconscious as far as Perron could see but whether that was the continuing effect of the medication or something else, he could not tell.

Nurse Hibron was very much conscious however. She had been fastened standing against one of the pillars that stretched down from the roof of the cave and into the base below but was still struggling against the bonds that held her. The fronds were evidently composed of some sulphurous material. Where they criss-crossed her body chemicals were leeching out from the material staining her white nurse's tunic a violent yellow. She had been unable to dislodge the gag of material that plastered the lower part of her face and could only whimper as she fought against her bonds. At least, thought Perron, the creature has done no more than capturing her.

Beyond her, the beast seemed distracted by something else. As it reared up Steve realised it had found another victim. Then, as the helpless woman rolled over trying to escape the clutches of the beast, he realised the sline creature's latest captive was his own wife.

Perron's ray gun spat a stream of violet particles at the beast, striking it on the back of its head. Its tentacles unwound from its captive, it staggered back and turned to face its attacker. Perron's wife, freed from the grip of the sline beast crawled away from the creature and huddled behind a packing case, pulling the tattered remnants of her dress together as best she could to cover herself. 'Steve,' she called. 'Kill it! Kill the monster!'

The ray gun throbbed in Steve's hand as the energy cell recharged. A second stream of particles shot from the barrel. The beast reared up and then collapsed, its tentacles slid to the floor, twitched and were still. Madeleine leapt to her husband's side. 'Oh Steve, thank heavens,' she cried. He grasped her as they both stared at the corpse of the sline beast. 'Let's get the folk back to the medi-centre,' he smiled. 'Then you're going to need to freshen up. I think we've got a dinner to go to.'

Madeleine threw her arms about his neck and kissed him."

"What's the point of a romantic story with an unhappy ending," thought Duufrig, tossing the magazine aside in disgust. The cover had shown the sline beast stripping away Madeleine's evening gown with the nurse trussed helplessly in the background. You'd have thought he'd have ended up with one or other of them. All these magazines ffinished like that though. He couldn't understand it. Why wasn't fiction more like real life?

Chapter 6

In the steel cell that had become their new home, Kelli and Shana sat, naked, staring at the featureless walls. They had been able to sleep on a raised bench on the far side of the cell for a while but then the ceiling lights had come on again making any further sleep impossible. Every so often a small video scanner set into the ceiling swung around making it obvious to the girls that they were being observed.

Beside the scanner, up in the ceiling, behind a grill, a loudspeaker crackled into life. "You two, on your feet, face the wall, hands behind your heads," a metallic voice commanded. Kelli looked at Shana, shrugged her shoulders and got to her feet. Her friend followed suit. Behind them, they heard the clang of the cell door bolts being pulled back.

"Good girls. Do as you are told, just like that, and things will be much easier. Here's some food for you, ladies." The voice was that of the taller of the two Gnarriotts that had pulled them from the shuttle.

"You finished with our clothes yet?" Shana called over her shoulder.

"Ah, regrettably, they proved too contaminated. I am afraid we had to destroy them. We will try to provide something later but as you know we have no need of clothing so it may take some time."

"That's OK we weren't planning on going out anytime soon.."

"Very wise. That would be a good long term plan, too."

Kelli and Shana heard the cell door slam and the bolts shoot back. They turned around to see a pair of plastic dishes placed on the floor by the door. Shana peered down at the food. "Think it's OK?" she asked her friend.

"Can't see why it wouldn't be," Kelli replied. They've got us shut up in here They can do pretty much what they like, I guess. There's no mileage in giving us anything bad, is there?"

"I guess not. Who cares anyway? I'm starving." Shana hadn't eaten for over twelve hours, she reckoned, and the bowl of fruits and bread were just too tempting. She fell to one of them with enthusiasm, burying her face in a bright orange squash, rather like the melons they cultivated on her own home planet. Kelli joined her and soon the bowls were emptied. "Well the beds aren't too good in this hotel but the food's all right," she quipped. She turned to her friend and then burst into tears, "Oh, Shana, it's no good, I can't go on being cheerful about this. What ever will happen to us?"

"It's OK, Kelli," Shana replied, "I'm scared too. We'll look out for each other." The two of them sat back on their bench, hugging each other.

It was about four hours later when the speaker crackled again, "On your feet, face the wall, hands behind your heads."

"I guess the waiter's coming to clear the plates after all," said Shana, getting up off the floor. "I don't suppose there's any chance of a beer," she called out as the two of them took up the prescribed position.

Again they heard the bolts click back but this time the two girls also heard mechanical clicks and whirs as two robots slid into the cell. Kelli and Shana suddenly felt steel bands snaking around their foreheads, upper arms, waists and ankles. "Hey, what now," cried Kelli as the bands tightened and she felt herself being pulled back against a cold steel plate. She tried to turn her head to see what was happening but it was locked in place against the plate. She could not move her arms or legs and her body was held immobile by the band across her waist. . The plate began to tilt backwards until she was lying horizontally, staring at the featureless ceiling of the cell. She could just see from the corner of her eye that Shana had suffered the same fate.

She heard others enter the room with the characteristic sound of a Gnarriott's exo-skeleton creaking as one part articulated on another. A tall Gnariott appeared at her side, towering over her. "Ladies," he said, "allow me to introduce myself I am Protector Gnarff of Forgwin5a and this is my vessel. Welcome on board. I'm sorry I was not able to greet you sooner but I am sure you understand - pressures of command, that sort of thing. Nevertheless I am pleased that I listened to the recommendations of my crew. It was certainly worth the trip down here." One of Gnarff's feelers snaked out and brushed across Shana's naked breast and then along Kelli's thighs. "Yes, very much worth the trip. You will both do very well." Both girls shuddered at the Gnarriott's attentions. "I am sorry, though. I am afraid we cannot spend time together just now. I just wanted to introduce you to my associate here," Gnarff waved a claw gesturing behind Kelli's head, "she will look after your for the time being. We will get together again later. Oh, and ladies, you have obviously forgotten that you are still emitting telepathically. I can understand your distress at your present situation but you should really learn to be more charitable towards your rescuers."

Shana had been thinking what a deviant, repellent creature Gnarff was. In the face of his smug remarks she let go with a stream of invective. "Rescuers! You bastard! What sort of rescuer would keep us locked up and naked?" she spat. "Let us go, you shit and get back in the fish tank where you belong!"

"You don't need to say it, dear. You'd already thought it. I'm sorry I had to hear it as well but no matter, it's not a problem that will continue." Gnarff gave a wave of a claw and turned to speak to the other. "Excellent," he said, "they will certainly do. Please carry on." Kelli and Shana listened as Gnarff creaked from the room.

Moments later Gnarff was replaced in the girls' line of sight by a woman wearing a white, medic's scrubs. Kelli was vaguely aware of how pale the woman looked with her white blond hair piled up on the back of her head under a cap. She bent down and reached under the steel plate that Shana was locked to. As Kelli watched, she stood up again clutching a hypodermic needle and with her face covered by a surgical mask.

Kelli's last sensations as the needle went in to her arm were the sight of the woman's pink, albino, eyes peering at her over the mask and the scream of defiance from Shana who was to follow her into unconsciousness.

Chapter 7

The Federation Cruiser "Thallaxapod" hung broodingly alongside the Gnarriott freighter, its sleek lines contrasting with the grin bulk of Gnarff's craft. A reinforced docking tube snaked across the short gap between the two ships.

Garan Duufrig watched from his console as the Federation Envoy and his entourage came on board the freighter through the main airlock. Too much stamping, saluting, fawning and gesturing he thought as the Guard of Honour drew their various numbers of limbs to attention. Two hours they'd spent cleaning out the airlock to get rid of the smell from the last visitors. Two hours cleaning and all of twenty seconds for the Federation Treaty & Trade Ambassador and his party to pass through. Still, now they were off to the top deck and since the ship wouldn't be going anywhere for a bit, Garan reckoned he could spend some more time with romantic tales of Peabody, Shaw and their like.

In his Stateroom, His Excellency, Farrin Gnarff, Lord High Protector of the Planet Forgwin5a, lounged back on his couch and summoned the delegation towards him. They stopped short of the dais on which the Protector was relaxing with two of his "attendants".

"Your Excellency," said the first of the delegation, Ambassador Taylor, with an air of deference, "it is good of you to see us."

"We are always pleased to see representatives of the Federation." Gnarff gave as much of a smile as his leathern skin would allow. Like all of the lobster-like Gnarriot species his body was covered in a stiff, mahogany-coloured exo-skeleton. Facial expression was not their strong point. It was, the Ambassador thought, what made the Gnarriot so difficult to negotiate with. And of course it was hopeless playing poker against them.

Ambassador Taylor kept his thoughts to himself though and settled for an anodyne expression of interest in Gnarff's well-being. "I must say that I am surprised to see your Excellency travelling on such a vessel. Would not the Imperial Yacht be more appropriate?"

"Well my yacht is, of course both comfortable and fast, but my visit to this corner of the galaxy demands a rather larger craft. But do not concern yourself for my comfort. I have been able to equip it with many of the consolations that I find so agreeable as a compensation for the work and pressure." He gestured to the two girls sitting on the floor before him. "I'm sure you have your own compensations, Ambassador?"

"Oh yes, your Excellency," Taylor responded, "though not perhaps such exotic ones as you can command. I am surprised to see them here though. I thought that Forgwin5a, your planet, was moving towards ratifying the Federation's treaty on the suppression of slavery. Is that not the case?

"Well you must understand that we have signed the intergalactic agreements but there are, I think, some differences in definitions between our position and that of our partners in the Federation."

"And what definition do these "attendants" of yours fall into?"

"A splendid example, my dear Ambassador. These two young ladies would not be here but for our enlightened views on salvage. Isn't that so, girls?" Gnarff reached out with one spiny tendril brushing it beneath the chin of the red headed girl kneeling at his right side. She turned to face the delegation and nodded slowly. "They were part of the salvage of a crashed skimmer on an off-limits planet. If we hadn't recovered their craft and themselves we would have been party to a further deterioration in the planet's eco system. That would have been in direct contravention of our responsibilities under earlier Federation treaties, I am sure you realise.

The Ambassador looked across at the girl. He might argue with the logic of Gnarff;s case but he couldn't fault his choice of an attendant. Her red hair had been elaborately dressed in a series of lacquered curls that mimicked the head dresses of Gnarriot females. Her dress had been carefully constructed to make the most of her figure, Her waist was held in by the boning of a reddish-brown leather bodice but her breasts were held up, presented almost on a shelf. The skirt was short, barely covering her buttocks and fell open at the front, exposing her sex.

Gnarff expounded, "After all they can recover the cost of their salvage – we encourage them to earn their keep. They retain their identities – see we have even mark them to ensure there is no confusion." He gestured with the same tendril towards a tattoo reading 'Sol5gGirlKelli006' above the girl's right breast. "This one is achieving many credits by pleasuring me."

"And in practice how many achieve their freedom?"

"Ah, well, that is hardly our fault, is it? Their earnings have to be offset by the costs of their keep and accommodation on any craft such as this is inevitably expensive."

"No doubt that is why you keep them in chains; to protect your investment?" Kelli wore both wrist and ankle chains and a long slim chain from a nose ring that ran to a link on Gnarff's belt.

"Indeed, indeed, and of course a ship such as this is a dangerous place. These two have already discovered the risks in space travel. They have to be protected from their own folly, don't you agree?"

"I quite see your point of view, Excellency," Taylor went on, "but it is the suppression of slavery treaty that I need to discuss with you. There are those that feel Forgwin5a has acted in violation of the spirit of this treaty, that some of your traders still pursue the slave trade, that your government does little to prevent their practices. Some say that you prey on the weak and the failing in our galaxy."

Gnarff lifted his head. If he was irritated by the ambassador's words he did nothing to reveal it. "Those are strong accusations, Ambassador. We are a simple tribe, we are anxious to support and promote conservation across the Galaxy. We seek only to protect some of those tribes and peoples on the fringes of the Federation that are threatened with extinction. We study and research those we take into our care so we can understand better how to help preserve their cultures."

"And does that include the women of Sol3a?"

"Come commander, you must know that they are one of the most threatened of all. We would hardly be facing up to our responsibilities if we did not do something to help preserve them. I am sure that the Federation's Intelligence Service has told you that we have some of our conservation project on board this very ship. We have nothing to hide in this matter, you know."

Taylor could see that Gnarff had been annoyed by the developments in the conversation. "Excellency, I only seek to avoid misunderstanding in the dealings between Forgwin and the Federation."

"Of course, Ambassador. You must excuse my reactions, so often it seems that our motives are misunderstood. Now gentlemen, if you are staying perhaps you can tour our facilities? Or perhaps you would like some recreation. This piece of salvage, for example," Gnarff gestured to the other girl at his side, "I am sure you would like to earn some more credits wouldn't you, my dear?"

The girl gave the same slow nod as her companion. Her head was completely shaved and she wore no clothing at all, just the same wrist cuffs, anklets and nose ring as her companion. The Ambassador saw from her tattoo that she was a planet sister of the other girl. Presumably they had been captured together. But the tattoo reading 'Sol5gGirlShana002' was not the only mark she bore. The Ambassador could see her thighs were criss-crossed with welts each set at short intervals with a ball shaped mark. The welts matched the form of Gnarff's tendrils. Evidently he was not above ensuring that they earned their credits in ways that met his needs.

"Can they not speak for themselves?" Ambassador Taylor asked.

"Ah, unfortunately, no. See." He used one of his tendrils to lift the girl's chin. A bright red scar crossed the top of her throat. "I fear that these girls were too talkative for me. It's their only drawback. They are also powerful telepath emitters too. The combination is intolerable and I am happy with just the telepath emissions. As a result we remove their tongues and their larynx. It does make it difficult for them to communicate one with another but we cope. I can interpret if your telepathic skills are not sufficient. Their sense of isolation, however, does give them an extreme willingness to please whoever they serve. I can make a curtained cubicle available if you would prefer some privacy."

Taylor choked back his thoughts on the barbarity of what had been done to the girls. "Ah, thank you your, Excellency, I don't think that would be the best use of my time, delightful though it might be. I do rather wish to discuss the issues arising from the problems with Sol3a."

"Of course, of course. Business before pleasure, I understand." Gnarff said. "I do think, though you should see something of the conservation project, however. I think that will help to illustrate the difficulties that we are trying to address. With your permission, Ambassador." Gnarff gave a sharp click with one of his claws.

A curtain drew back and a woman entered. Taylor was impressed. She was as tall as himself, almost two units high, and stunningly beautiful. Her long, white-blonde, hair hung loosely behind her almost to her waist. She wore a simple floor length gown in imperial purple with a matching cape that draped from her shoulders to the floor behind her.

"Ambassador, this is Doctor Mead. She is my chief anthropologist and responsible for our Sol3 conservation project. She manages the Sol3a collection which is at the heart of our study programme. She can explain to you what we are doing here. Perhaps we can reconvene our discussions in an hour or so? I know my two little friends here are particularly keen to see what they can do to amuse me. Aren't you girls?" Gnarff wound his tendrils around each girl's scarred throat, pulling them to their feet.

Chapter 8

On the video screens of Sol3a the image of Gabrielle Mayern, leader of the Planetary Council, was watched with anticipation and concern. The audience all knew that tens of thousands of years of exploitation and abuse had killed the planet and that nothing could be done to save it as a habitable place for the human species.

Although mankind had spread throughout the Sol system and far beyond, its legendary home was a derelict husk of a world that could no longer sustain a population. Those of Sol3a had failed to reduce the demands on their planet and had sought a new home elsewhere in the Sol system. The other worlds in the Sol system were facing their own problems and could not or would not help. All that was left to the women of Sol3a was a simple choice, migrate or die. Mayern carried their last hopes to find a new home.

The view screen on the wall of the cabin blinked into life. A camera beside it was trained on Mayern as she sat staring at it. "Women of Sol3a," the screen announced, "this is a world telecast information flash from Council Leader Mayern."

The red lamp on the camera began to flash and Mayern began speaking. "I am speaking to you from the shuttle Aries as it returns towards our home, a home that is, as we all know, dying. From here in space, poised between our dying world and the worlds that our fore-mothers colonised, it is clear that we must make choices, hard choices. But it is also clear that there are those who value our contribution to the galaxy and those who would help us as we face the extinction of our home.

"As you know I have tried to negotiate for a new home within our solar system. It saddens me to tell you that in that endeavour I and the rest of the Council have failed. It seemed that those whose worlds we had helped to colonise should be the first to help us, but not so. Who can say today if things should have been different? Not all the worlds of Sol have seen things the same way as we have and now all those worlds have turned their backs and declined to help. They would leave us at the mercy of our decaying planet.

"Fortunately there are those who are prepared to face up to their treaty obligations. The Forgwin system had pledged to stand by Sol3a and now will help to deliver us. I am returning from discussions with their Council. They have agreed to help us to relocate to one of the moons of Forgwin5. This will be our new home. Ships from the Forgwin system will be landing on Sol3a shortly. As you know the Science Councillors forecast that we have only a matter of days before the crust of our home begins to collapse. The rescue ships will allow us to evacuate before the final collapse of our planet. The peoples of Forgwin may be other species but they have shown more humanity than the rest of human kind.

"Join me in praising the generosity of the Forgwin system. Join me in our new home."

Mayern sat back. The red light on the camera went out. The voice of the view screen announcer continued. "That was Council Leader Gabrielle Mayern broadcasting from the shuttle Aries, en-route from Sol3b. Regional centres for evacuation have already been designated and embarkation will begin within the next 12 hours. You are reminded to follow the community evacuation plan communicated to you by your regional authorities. We understand that there is only a 48 hours evacuation window. Please follow all instructions given to you by your regional authorities and the evacuation crews. Thank you."

Gabrielle reached out and turned the screen off. It was done. She had saved the peoples of Sol3a. It proved that there was some honour in the galaxy.

"Would you like a drink, Council Leader?" The only crew on the Aries were the two flight attendants, the flight, return and docking were all automated. "We will be docking with the Orbiter in about three hours."

"Oh, yes, thank you. Just some water," she replied. The flight attendant padded off across the Aries' empty passenger cabin to the galley. Her velcro slippers held her to the floor in spite of the weightless conditions. She opened the door to the galley carefully. Her colleague was standing just inside, sipping coffee through a straw from a sealed container. "Some water for Council Leader Mayern," she said.

Chapter 9

On the top deck of the Gnarriott ship, Mead led the way out of Gnarff's audience chamber. Taylor followed with his retinue in tow. Garan Duufrig, along with the rest of the Guard of Honour stiffened to attention as the group passed by.

"Can I ask how much you know of the history of the Sol3a people, Ambassador," Mead asked. "I would like to be able to put what I have to show you in the correct context, you understand."

"Yes, of course. Well, there are the legends that Sol3a was the home planet for the human species, but I guess that doesn't have too much to do with today's situation and I suppose that it's more an issue for archaeologists than ourselves. Then in historical time there has been the problem with their men. Now it seems that Sol3a is just about all out of natural resources, their own scientists consider that a collapse is imminent. There are only 50,000 of them remaining and they need to migrate but it is hard to see where they can go. The other Sol planets just view them as economic migrants and there's not much flex in that system at all.

"A reasonable summary. The collapse of the Sol3a ecosystem is imminent though. They have used vulcano-thermal energy for a long time and it has become apparent that the planet's mantle is collapsing. Soon the crust will collapse into the voids it has left. Water rushing in from the oceans and the seismic events will devastate the planet. But that is just part of it, albeit a tragic end to their home. Their difficulties began before the start of the collapse in the male birth rate about three thousand years ago. Of course they managed to provide species continuity by using frozen gametes and then through genetic management - cloning. Now they are an all-female species, one of the few examples. That's one of the things that led me to study them. That and the fact that I can trace my lineage through to Sol3a stock."

"Many of us can or imagine we can. I think that's one of the things that gives such credence to the legends." Taylor was enjoying the discussion but he was also deeply attracted by Mead. Albinos were unusual – anything out of the genetic mainstream was surprising amongst humanoids these days – but it wasn't just that. She combined a striking appearance with a confident manner and an obvious knowledge of her subject. He had to keep reminding himself that this woman was also managing an installation that would be outlawed by most of the signatories to the Federation's treaties and that considerable diplomatic effort would be needed if the Federation were ever to bring the planets of the Forgwin system and the other haunts of the Gnarriots into line. "Now," Mead went on as they turned a corner, "this is the collection that is at the heart of our project."

The corridor opened onto a gangway. It stretched for almost 100 units along the length of the freighter's hull taking up almost an entire deck. On either side, large view panels allowed sight of a series of rooms, each different, each containing one or more human females.

"One of the fascinating things about the Sol3a women is the wide range of genetic variation within the species. We still use the old terminology for them - asiatics, latinos, blacks, caucasians, and so on. The different varieties seem to have been linked to geographic, climatic conditions in the early stages of the species presence on Sol3a – then they seemed to stop evolving. It's very odd. If you try to genotype the Gnarriotts, for example, they have little variation even though their home planet had even wider climactic ranges than Sol3a. Anyway, we try to provide them with a similar environment to that which they have left – they can't see you, we provide them with standard Sol3a gravity, clothes and food they would be familiar with. We pipe media channels from their origin in to them. They don't get to see any artifacts or have any contact with non-Sol3a entities. As far as they are concerned they are still there."

"And how do they arrive?" Taylor was staring down at a young woman who knelt in the middle of her room, motionless, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Oh, I think you need to discuss that with the Lord High Protector. I'm not really qualified to comment."

The young woman in the first room got up and began pacing up and down. After a while she stopped and turned, staring upward at the ceiling before she returned to pacing up and down. Taylor noticed that the floor covering in the room had been worn almost through where she repeated the same path time after time.

They walked along the gangway. Taylor counted over thirty women, some of them motionless, some of them watching vid-screens, two of them pacing, just like the first.

"We have been studying them for over five years now." Mead explained. "It's been one of the most detailed anthropological assessments of a single species. We have an enormous bank of data. I think we know better how to look after them than they do themselves. Certainly we could have managed Sol3a so that it would still sustain their presence and we have a far better idea of their abilities than they do."

Taylor peered down into another room a sign beside the view panel read "Northern hemisphere, urban dwellers, #102 Origins: Asiatic #103 Origins: Af-Amer #104 Origins Caucasian" Three woman sprawled on the couches of what appeared to be a comfortable apartment watching a video screen. One of them flicked in an irritated way through the channels. "And this is the whole collection?"

"Oh, no. This would hardly provide a statistical basis. We have a number of similar units. The Lord High Protector has been most generous in funding the facility and ensuring we have all we need to provide the sort of thorough study that is needed if we are going to solve their environmental crisis."

"You don't feel that there is a moral question to answer here. Some could consider that the Gnarriotts are simply trafficking flesh in direct contravention of their Federation commitments."

"Oh no. Surely you see this is all being done to help provide the basis for the long-term preservation of the species?"

"It might be easier to accept your assurances if Forgwin did not have the reputation it has, and perhaps if the Protector did not have his own 'collection', I am sure you would agree."

"I can assure you that the Protector has done everything he can to ensure the success of the project. The two girls you saw are from Sol5g; we couldn't possibly include them in the project, they come from a completely different social and ecological environment. The Protector understands that I can only work with those that are Sol3a borne, I know that his tastes must seem barbarous but it is difficult to judge the values of different species."

"That may be, Doctor, but it is hard not to feel that those two girls would be seen as slaves in any of the treaties that have so far been put forward to Forgwin. I really do feel that there is…." Ambassador Taylor turned at a sound behind him.

The two doors that closed off the gantry from the rest of the ship slid back to reveal Farrin Gnarff with his two chained attendants. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, Ambassador. I do hope that Doctor Mead has been able to help."

"Thank you, Lord Protector. Doctor Mead has indeed been a great help. We are very grateful for your openness in this matter."

"And I trust you will give us a clean bill of health as far as the accusations that have been made against us."

"You can be assured that my report will be entirely truthful, your Lordship, but I can see how it might not satisfy those who disagree with your policies. For them it is not how these things are being done, but the fact that they are being done at all. Some, I am sure, would find it difficult to reconcile your 'conservation' activities with their views of how peoples should be allowed self-determination. They might feel that Forgwin should not be planning any precipitous act."

"They would do well not to interfere in the acts of a sovereign state."

"I hope that we are all above trying to solve our differences by acts of direct intervention, Lord Protector, Now if you will excuse us. I think that we have seen enough for the time being." Taylor turned towards the anthropologist. "Dr Mead, thank you so much for your assistance. It has been a complete pleasure." He reached forward, took her hand and kissed it.

"Why, Ambassador," she smiled, flattered by his gesture, "I have been happy to help."

Gnarff peered at Taylor and Mead. "Thank you Ambassador," he said. "I am always pleased to welcome the Federation's representatives. But if you will excuse me…"

Without waiting for Taylor to reply Gnarff span around and stalked off along the corridor. He jerked the chains of his two attendants, dragging them behind him as they tried to keep up. Mead looked after them with concern, Gnarff wasn't pleased and it was never good to be close to him at such times.

"Well, Doctor," Taylor began, "perhaps you would be good enough to show us back to the airlock?"

"Yes, of course," Mead responded, gesturing along the gangway for Taylor and his party. "Please, it's just along here."

Chapter 10

At the galley of the shuttle Aries, one of the two flight attendants was leaning around the door. "I said Council Leader Mayern would like some water."

"No, its time to do it," her colleague responded. "I got the signal."

"O.K." the other replied. "Are the other two passengers comfortable?"

"Depends on your definition of comfortable." She pulled back a panel door to reveal two bound and gagged women. Each wore only their bra, panties and tights. Their mouths were evidently packed, cheeks bulging beneath strips of heavy adhesive tape. More tape wrapped their arms, legs, wrists and ankles. The space in which the two women were confined was small but as each struggled, weightless, they collided with one another and the walls of the closet.

"Well ladies, do you think we are doing justice to your uniforms?" The two captives gave grunted responses that suggested they were less than happy.

"What is it they say – 'In space, no one can hear you scream.' Guess that's true if you've got your mouth full, eh?" More muffled squeals accompanied the shutting of the panel door.

The first of the two flight attendants slid a small metal case from a pouch slung on her belt. A tap on the end of the case sent four metallic components sliding slowly from the case. She caught each of them in turn, assembling them carefully, each part mating snugly against the other. She took the device in her right hand and made her way back into the cabin.

As she approached Mayern, the Council Leader looked up from the documents that she was working on. "Do you have the water?" she asked.

"No, Council Leader, I have something more important. Something from Forgwin, something to mark today."

Mayern looked up, puzzled. "I don't understand," she said as the flight attendant leant forward pressing the device against her chest.

"This is their thanks. To you, Council Leader. For delivering the women of Sol3a to them." Mayern looked startled for a moment until the attendant pressed the trigger on the device. The compressor capsule fired and the hypodermic needle shot the measured dose into Mayern's body. The drug induced paralysis took immediate hold, holding her body locked, unmoving.

The pen that Council Leader Mayern had been using drifted from her grasp, floating free in the cabin. Her assailant picked it from the air and slid it carefully into the top pocket of Mayern's tunic. Mayern looked on in terror, conscious but paralysed and unable to move.

As the Aries shuttle approached the Orbiter, coasting towards an automatic docking, the two half naked captives were pulled from their makeshift prison. As each tried to struggle free of the tapes that held them they drifted across the cabin of the Aries. Their captors smiled as their two victims tried to avoid colliding with the walls of the cabin. Their helpless wriggles only served to increase the tumbling and twisting of their weightless, free-fall, flight.

Aries slid towards the Orbiter's cavernous docking bay. A shudder ran through the shuttle as its retro jets fired in turn, first aligning it with the station and then matching its rotation with that of the docking bay before it coasted in to dock. An automated, pre-recorded announcement sang out from the shuttle's sound system, "Welcome to Sol3a Orbiter. Please remain in your couches until docking is concluded and the 'unfasten harness – airlock open' sign is illuminated. For those arriving from Sol3b you will find a 15%G zone for your comfort on levels 3 through 5. For those arriving from Sol3a a 1G zone can be found in the Orbiter Rim on the outer level. If you are departing within the next 24 hours please contact the Orbiter Help service for directions to your onward docking station. Thank you."

The two flight attendants stepped out of the shuttle into the docking hall of the Orbiter. There exactly as planned were their colleagues. "Christa! Nataya! Hi!" one of them called in greeting. "Natty uniforms!"

Christa, the taller of the two, smiled wanly. "Well they're hardly high fashion but I think their original owners would be glad to have them back. They are in the cabin with Mayern if you want to get them out, Terrill."

"Oh, I guess they will be OK for a bit, knowing you two," Terrill replied. "Do you want to see what we've been up to?" She pointed across the docking hall to the elevator that led to the rim of the Orbiter.

Christa and Nataya followed Terrill up to the observation lounge. In the lounge two more women stood guard over about fifty others. Their captives sat in five rows on the floor of the lounge, their wrists strapped behind their backs with cable ties, their heads enclosed in identical, black hoods. Some wore the uniform of Orbiter crew, others civilian dress. Half a dozen were naked. Mostly they were still and silent. A couple of the captives turned towards the sound of Nataya's voice as she spoke.

"Is this the lot?" Nataya asked.

"Uh huh," Terrill replied. "Twenty two crew, fourteen civilian passengers in transit, six members of the council security corps and the Council Leader's welcoming party, total forty eight. Let's see – you've got three, that's fifty one total."

Chapter 11

She was one of the last to leave London. The city had long been in decay but was now deserted as the last occupants fled. Ground transportation had brought her to the South East England area evacuation site on the edge of Woking. As she left the vehicle, the crew abandoned it and followed her.

In the middle of Horsell Common, the dark cylinder of the evacuation ship stood silent. Deeta Janes joined the queue trudging across the common. She pulled behind her the small case that contained all the possessions he was taking with her. 25 kilos, they had said; one case, 25 kilos, nothing more.

How do you choose what you will take? What from your old life; what to help in the new one? In the end she'd taken almost nothing from her past; just two holo-images - one of her birth mother; the other her house mother, the two who had kept her safe when she was young. That was something to be thankful for. Since they'd gone, she'd needed to look out for herself – she hoped she would do as good a job as they had done.

The queue edged forward, getting closer all the time to the ship that waited to swallow them all.

Deeta could see as she got closer that they were already loading. Women were walking up the ramp and into the belly of the ship. The queue rounded a large container still about 100 yards from the ship.

Two of the Sol3a security forces were standing guard by the large doors that gave entry to the container's interior. There had been no trouble. They carried their weapons but they were slung across their backs. Deeta was walking on, still staring at the enormous ship.

"Hey," one of the security guards called out, "Hey you!"

Deeta turned. "Sorry? Me?" she asked.

"That's right. Personal belongings go in here." She pointed through the door of the container. Over the top of it were a series of character in the Gnarriot script and, alongside, the word "FERNIX" and a big arrow pointing to the door. Inside Deeta could see the rows of cases stacked neatly. She added her case to the others and walked on towards the ship.

At the foot of the ramp, she took one last look back across Horsell Common. In her life time the green commons and woods around London had become blackened by the pollution. Now the trees where she had played as a child were lifeless stumps and twisted forms; now the fields were nothing more than rutted mud. She was sad to be leaving but sad for what it had been, not what it now was. There were a few others following her but apart from the security guards the common was now almost deserted. She turned her back on it and climbed into the ship.

Deeta followed the signs towards the passenger cabin. The area was packed and people jostled each other, searching for seats. She thought she'd wait while others settled. Toward the side of the cabin a coffee machine presented a welcome diversion. She took a cup and filled it and leant back against the wall of the cabin, watching the melee before her.

A loudspeaker crackled above her head. "Embarkation is complete. Thank you for your co-operation. Please take your seats, this rescue craft will be launching shortly."

Deeta drained the coffee from the Styrofoam cup. Looking around for somewhere to drop it she saw a bin to one side. The bin was filled to overflowing with discarded cups but she thought she could squeeze another in. Over the bin a sign read, "Fernix". Deeta peered at it. "I guess it means garbage," Deeta thought. "Funny, I'm sure I've seen it somewhere before."

Chapter 12

Kelli and Shana were back in their cell. The Protector had been angered by what he saw as the interference of Taylor and the rest of the Federation delegation and his two attendants had suffered as a result.

Both girls had endured the whip-like Gnarriott feelers and the Protector's claws before he had tired of them and bellowed for a guard to take them away and chain them up.

At least their guard had been lenient. The two girls each wore a neck collar linked by a chain to a ring in the wall but the chains were long enough for them to move around and now the two were huddled together on the platform where they slept.

Kelli cradled Shana's naked body against her own. Her head was against her breast. Kelli ran her fingers tenderly over Shana's shaved scalp and hugged her close. Shana sobbed quietly. Neither of them tried to speak any more, the noises that came from their violated mouths and throats were more than either of them could bear to hear.

Kelli looked down at Shana's tortured breasts. In his irritation with Taylor, Gnarff had demonstrated what he would like to do with the Federation by wrapping one of his feelers tightly around Shana's breasts and then pinching at her nipples with his claws. Shana had struggled but that had just made Gnarff tighten his feeler and grip harder with his claws until she had passed out from the pain. Now her breasts were bruised and carried a red wheal around the base of each, barely less livid than the scar that each of them bore across their throats,

"Don't be scared," Kelli thought to herself, "don't be scared. We'll look after each other."

Shana looked up at her friend, taking comfort in her closeness. She was in pain but the agonies that Gnarff had caused her were nothing compared to the pain she felt inside. She blamed herself for the crash that had brought them here. She felt bad about the way she had taunted Gnarff when he came to their cell for the first time. Perhaps she had goaded him into what then happened? Her collar was chafing against her scarred throat, her breasts felt as though they were on fire but that was nothing to the guilt she felt about their situation. What made it worse was that she was sure that Kelli didn't hold it against her. She felt sure Kelli would feel that they would look after each other.

As Shana pressed against her, Kelli could feel her misery. It wasn't just the pain of Gnarff's tortures, Kelli just knew that Shana felt guilty about the crash, about being here, about all of it. "It's all right," she thought to herself, "it's all right, Shana, this isn't your fault. Don't blame yourself." Somehow Shana seemed to be soothed by her thoughts. The two of them sank against each other and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

It was perhaps two hours before the two stirred as the door to their cell opened. Kelli looked up to see Mead enter. She was elegant as when they had seen her earlier, escorting Ambassador Taylor, clad in a tight fitting purple body-suit, her white hair piled high on her head. Shana looked towards her as well.

"I came to see if you were all right," Mead said.

"I don't trust her," Kelli thought to herself.

"Me neither," thought Shana. Suddenly she realised that she had heard Kelli thoughts in her own brain. She gave a startled, throttled, grunt of understanding.

Mead misunderstood her reaction. "It's OK," she said soothingly, "I want to help."

Shana gave her thoughts form, "Kelli, can you hear this?"

Kelli looked towards her in astonishment. "Yes," she thought, "yes I can! Oh, Shana, can you 'hear' me too?"

"Yes, yes. Oh, that's wonderful!" For the first time in a long time, the two girls smiled.

"Good, good," comforted Mead, interpreting their smiles as a response to her.

From the corridor came the clatter of an approaching Gnarriott. From the bellowing, Kelli and Shana knew Gnarff was outside. They emptied their minds of the least thought, one way that they had developed to reduce the risk of Gnarff's wrath.

"Ah, Mead," he grunted as he stepped into the cell. "I see you had the same worries as me. Well done. I knew that useless clod of a guard was going to leave them comfortable."

Gnarff pulled each of the girls in turn to her feet, chained her collar to a wall ring with only two or three links slack, and then did the same for wrists and ankles, fixing them almost immobile against the metal wall of the cell. "You'll stay like that until you learn to play," he snarled. "Don't forget I'm going to have a few more toys to choose from now! If you want to go on enjoying the pleasure of my company you'll both have to become better behaved. And believe me, you just don't want to know what it's like if I get tired of you."

He turned from the silent, barely struggling, girls towards Mead. "Now perhaps I can ask you a few questions, my dear, about how the Sol3a women can be best prepared for their new lives. Then I think we can greet our visitors." He snaked a feeler about Mead's waist. Shana watched as its tip snaked down behind her and between her buttocks as he ushered her from the cell, pulling the door shut behind them with a clank.

The two listened as the sounds of Mead and Gnarff's conversation died away.

"Are you all right, Shana?" Kelli thought out.

"Mmm, yes, I guess. It's not too bad. It depends how long we have to stay like this."

"Oh, Shana, I'm so scared."

"Me too, but at least we now have each other."

Chapter 13

Crista, Nataya and Terril watched from the Orbiter's observation chamber as the twelve cylindrical Gnarriott ships edged towards them in a long line. From the third of them a shuttle emerged, heading towards the Orbiter's docking bay.

"Here comes our lift," Christa called. "We'd better get our contribution ready."

The three of them herded their captives back to the docking bay. As they left the elevator they saw the two other guards, laughing. Spinning between them, weightless, the ball in a game of human tennis, was one of the two flight attendants from Aries, still half naked, bound and gagged, and wrapped with more tape into a ball. "Oh, for goodness sake you two," smiled Terril. "Stop that and get the rest of this lot sorted. A shuttle's on its way in."

"OK, boss," the taller of the two replied, breaking off her game and leaving the helpless human ball to bounce into the wall of the docking bay. The other stewardess and the paralysed form of Councillor Mayern lay to one side. The fifty four helpless women waited.

For Crista and Nataya it was their first encounter with the Gnarriot when the shuttle docked and two troopers emerged. Most of the other species that they dealt with were at least vaguely humanoid in form so the lobster like Gnarriott presented a frightening aspect. At first Crista had thought they were wearing armour but she soon realized that this was their normal appearance. Their captives, still hooded, were of course, none the wiser.

"Excellent," the leading trooper croaked, "bring them through. Shuttle is ready. You've earned your fee."

Those words were sufficient. Crista, Nataya, Terril and the other Sol5g mercenaries, grinned at each other. The payment was going to allow them to enjoy a life of considerable luxury. It was hardly a great sum for delivering an entire planet but the rancour between Sol3a and those of the outer worlds meant that for all those that had been involved it was well worth it.

The captive women were dragged across the Orbiter's docking bay and into the Gnariott shuttle. The two troopers took a look around the docking bay. One unclipped a package from his harness and left it on the floor of the bay. With a grunt of acknowledgement from the other, the two of them turned their backs on the Orbiter and followed the women onto the shuttle. As the airlock door closed, the outer lock of the Orbiter opened and the shuttle started on the trajectory that returned it to the third cylinder just as it caught up with the Gnarriott freighter.

"Just my luck," thought Garan Duufrig as he sat at the navigation console. "Most of the time the worst we have to worry about is avoiding planets or the odd asteroid. Now I've got 12 tubes trying to collide with me." The docking of the cylinders that had been used to collect the Sol3a women was underway. Having transited from Earth orbit the 12 were aligned in a ring around the Gnarriott freighter, edging closer to it, each aiming for the cradle that would lock them to the freighter for the journey on to the Forgwin system. Each settled into place in turn. As the last set of lights lit up on the console indicating that the last cylinder had connected with the mother ship and locked on, Garan Duufrig breathed a sigh of relief and handed over to his relief who would handle the burn to set them on their way.

Chapter 14

In the cabin passenger cabin of the South East England cylinder, Deeta Janes was dozing in her seat as the cabin's speaker system burst into life. "Rendezvous is complete," a voice said, "Thank you for your patience. We will shortly be commencing the burn to take us out of the ecliptic. The transfer will take approximately 16 months. Please take your seats and prepare for hibernation. Your hibernation mask will fall from the panel above your head. Please fasten the mask over your nose and mouth and breathe deeply on my mark."

Deeta looked up as the mask fell from the panel. She reached up and pulled it towards her in readiness for the instruction. She looked to left and right. All her companions had done likewise.

"Hibernation will commence shortly. You may find it helpful to count backwards from 10 on the following mark. Three, two one, Mark!"

Deeta looked up towards the cabin ceiling. A green vapour was passing down each of the tubes that fed the masks. "Ten," she thought. "Nine. Eight. … ". In her mind, she carried on counting. To anyone watching, she appeared to be in an unconscious state.

As the women of earth passed into hibernation, the shuttle from the Orbiter docked and the Sol5g mercenaries, the Gnarriott troopers and their captives disembarked. The women were dragged to a passenger cabin, secured and forcibly hibernated along side the other passengers. Crista, Nataya, Terrill and the others took Mayern, on a trolley, paralysed but still conscious up to the great domed chamber of Gnarff's suite. Mayern gazed up from her trolley, looking out through the great glazed dome, looking out into the black depths of the universe.

Almost her first sight was the bright, soundless flower of the explosion in the docking bay of the Orbiter as the package that the Troopers had left detonated. She watched as the whole station appeared to shudder in space, shiver to a standstill and then begin to twist out of orbit; its antennae and external structures splintering away as it began to spiral to its death.

Gnarff and Mead came into the suite. "I fear that the fate of the Orbiter is only a pre-cursor of that of Sol3a, Council Leader. You and your people are well away from it."

Mayern, unable to move, could only stare at Farrin Gnarff.

"You had few options, Councillor, and so little time. Look!" Gnarff gestured towards Sol3a shining brightly through the dome above them. The west coast of NorAmer was just emerging from the shadow of night. Even from space the explosive volcanic plumes were clearly visible, spewing into the atmosphere, triggered by the slippage in the Great Fault Line and carried like a shroud across the dying planet. Beyond, away to the east of the continent, the shape of the coastline had changed beyond recognition as the seas had already flooded in response to the flexing of the ocean floor.

"But now we must think of the future. Doctor Mead here has been helping me to ensure that your people will have suitable facilities at your destination. She has also been helping me with the problems that we discussed of making the colony self sufficient. You may find our ways of doing things a little direct at first but I am sure you will come to recognise their effectiveness. Doctor Mead, if you please…"

Mayern was only partly listening, distracted by panorama of devastation unfolding through the dome above her. Mead stepped forward.

"Your Excellency, Councillor," she began, formally.

Gnarff' swivelled his head towards her. "Get on with it," he grunted.

Mead coughed and began again. "We have a living space allocated to your people on one of the outer-world satellites of the Forgwin system. Once you are established there, the first priority will be to stabilise the population numbers. Councillor you will be aware that birth rates have fallen over the past five years to a dangerously low level. We estimate that around one third of your population will need to enter an insemination, incubation and breeding programme to reverse this trend. This will need to be a managed programme since previous attempts at encouragement have failed so we expect the allocation of individuals to this programme soon after arrival. In addition something like 10000 of you will need to be deployed in hydroponic farming to enable the facility to be self sufficient in food and other essentials and around 6000 will be needed for management of the colony, provision of local security services, that sort of thing."

Gabrielle Mayern could not respond; she could only stare up, wondering whether the horrors unfolding above her or those that were implied within the colony were the worse.

"That leaves around 14,000 of your population, Councillor," Gnarff interjected. "These will be available to help Sol3a to pay off its debts to the Forgwin system as a result of this evacuation. Normally we would propose a share cropping system for your farming but I am advised that the colony will only just be self sustaining from an agricultural perspective and we have no wish to put your people under a greater pressure than is absolutely necessary.

"Fortunately Sol3a has an important asset in its people and one which is particularly valuable in the Forgwin system." Gnarff moved to Mayern's side and reached across with one of his pincers. Deftly he clipped the buttons from her blouse and let it fall open. Mayern was unable to move. "The Gnarriott are a passionate race and find your fleshy bodies arousing. Even during our own discussions, Councillor, I found myself often distracted by the rise and fall of your breasts beneath your blouse, the curve of your neck, the discrete hint of cleavage, the way that lock of hair falls down across your brow when you defend your point of view. I must admit that I sometimes found it hard to remember that I was trying to ensure the best future for all of your people. I am sure we will help you find ways to turn these assets into a marketable commodity, one that will bring prosperity to your new home."

Mead watched with embarrassment as Gnarff toyed with Mayern's clothing. As an anthropologist she was used to observing sexual behaviour and she was hardly any stranger to Gnarff's tastes but she found this chilling. What was more, she knew the economic arguments for the Gnarriott proposition were sound but it was clear from her conversations with Taylor that the Federation would find it hard to accept. She could see that the mercenaries looked uncomfortable as well.

Chapter 15

Deeta was still counting. In her mind she had not even paused but already two weeks had passed.

"Seven, eight, nine." And now, although she had not been aware of being unconscious she realised that she was now awake. She blinked and looked up at the creature standing over her. She had seen pictures of Gnarriotts before, of course, on the vid-screens mainly, but they hadn't prepared her for the reality. She fought back her distaste for the lobster like creature; they were her rescuers after all. The guard peered down at her.

"Come with me, please," he said, politely, taking her hand gently in one of his pincers and drawing her uncertainly to her feet.

Deeta looked around at the rest of the cabin where the others were still apparently asleep. "Uhh, what about them," she gestured with her free hand.

"No, just you. Come, now." The Gnarriott ushered her out of the cabin and into an office where another Gnarriott was sitting at a desk. He looked up as she entered and held an exchange of the high pitched sounds that Gnarriotts used to communicate between themselves. The other Gnarriott got this feet.

"Excellent," he remarked, waving a claw in a welcoming gesture. "Shicnan Warrax – Engineer. Now I must just check who you are."

"Oh, yes, of course," Deeta responded, "my name is …."

"That's not necessary," Warrax reached forward and pulled Deeta's shirt from her shoulder.

"Hey, what's the game," Deeta pulled back.

"Your identity, I need to check it," Warrax was pointing to her arm. Deeta looked down at a bar coded number tattooed on her arm. "You have all been coded while hibernating, it's the only way we can keep track. Now just let me see." He gripped her arm tightly in his claw and span her around.

"Oww," she yelped, "that hurts."

"Excellent, that checks." Deeta was still trying to wriggle free of Warrax's claw. "Please do not struggle. I need to do this properly. 0015783, previously Deeta Janes, South England Evacuation Group, you have been assigned to myself under the Officer Allocation Programme. As such you will be provided with accommodation in return for your work on the programme. This is as an alternative to the hibernation sequence."

"I'll go back to my couch if it's all the same to you," she scowled.

"No, that will not be convenient. I am afraid that I cannot change the allocations." Warrax turned to the guard that had brought her. "She's correct," he said. "Can you just hold her?"

Deeta yelped with pain as the guard grasped each arm tightly in its claws. "Let me go," she cried kicking out at her captor. It had no effect other than to encourage him to grip her more tightly.

"You'll be staying here and providing such services as I require." Warrax ignored her protests. "Mostly that will be administrative support for my department and domestic duties in these quarters. Don't worry, you won't find it too arduous, there will be two of you." Warrax, clicked his claws and a second woman came into the cabin. "This is 0014395," he announced. "You might find it easier to call her Marni."

Like Deeta, she wore the simple grey shirt and short skirt that seemed to have become almost a uniform for the Sola3a women but her skirt had been ripped up one seam from hem to waistband and her shirt had been tied off below her breasts to show off her belly. The sleeves of her short had been torn out and Marni's bar coded number was clearly visible on her upper arm. To Deeta's dismay the girl wore shackles about her ankles, wrist cuffs joined by a short chain and a ball gag strapped into her mouth with a head harness. What was worse, she carried a tray containing the self same items.

"Good," said Warrax to the gagged woman, pointing at Deeta. "Put those on your new companion."

Marni gave a nod of assent without hesitating. Deeta struggled in the grip of the Gnarriott but could not prevent Marni fitting first the manacles and cuffs and then the gag to her.

Deeta grunted protests uselessly as the gag was tightened. As Marni finished she knelt down beside Warrax. "Good girl," he approved, patting her head. "Now show our friend why she should behave herself."

Marni turned her back on Deeta, bent forward and lifted her skirt. Her buttocks had been laid raw by a violent beating. Deeta drew a sharp breath through her nose in shock. Warrax turned to the guard. "Let her go. I think she'll be compliant enough."

Deeta felt the grip on her arm loosen. "You two," Warrax ordered the women. "Get down to the mess deck. I want drinks and glasses for six back here in ten minutes." Deeta looked puzzled. Marni grabbed her arm as the guard let her go. "She'll show you the way – be quick and get used to doing things that way." He cuffed her across the back of her head as she turned to leave. The blow from the Gnarriott's claw left her head spinning as she stumbled out into the corridor after Marni.

Chapter 16

Gnarff, two of his officers and Mead were dining together in Lord Protector's Stateroom. Mayern sat with them, still paralysed but fully conscious. Gnarff was in the full dress uniform of a Gnarriott Admiral, Mead in the same gown she had worn to greet Ambassador Taylor. At Gnarff's direction, Mayern had been put into a dress with an absurdly short skirt and a plunging neckline and then seated directly opposite him. Her hair had been elaborately dressed and her face wore a mask like make up.

"Is it necessary, your lordship," Mead asked, "for Council Leader Mayern to stay as she is? Surely she would be better able to prepare for her people's future if she were released from her current state."

"Oh, no. She is all right for the time being." Gnarff seemed unconcerned. "She is quite able to think through the issues. Her ability to plan is unimpaired. Besides I need her to gain some more insights into the ways of the Gnarriotts before she will truly be able to take on her new tasks."

Mead turned in response to a knock on the door of the stateroom. As Gnarff ordered, "Come!" two troopers pushed Kelli and Shana, naked, their arms strapped behind them, into the room.

"Ah splendid, exactly to time." Gnarff pushed his plate away from him and tossed his napkin into the debris of shrimp tails. "Good evening, girls. Still not thinking to me, then?"

Kelli and Shana hung their heads submissively, trying desperately not to annoy Gnarff, anxious not to transmit the least thought to him.

"No matter, it's not me you'll answer to tonight. We have had some amusing times in my chamber but you have yet to experience more than my games. I thought you should give Councillor Mayern a demonstration of what the Sol3a women will need to provide. If she is to be the madam of this brothel, she'll need to do more than look the part." Gnarff snorted with amusement. Mayern could not move but the Gnarriott knew she was hearing and understanding everything. "Two of my officers have volunteered to introduce you to the delights of "riding the barbed hook" as I believe the other ranks refer to it." The two girls exchanged a look of puzzlement but held back any telepathy. "Commander Gnerrix, Commander Kullux," Gnarff gestured to the two officers, "perhaps you would like to take your pick?"

"Huhh, I'll take the shaved one," grunted Gnerrix, pointing to Shana. He got up from the dining table and moved to sit on a couch at one side of the room.

"OK by me," said the other officer, getting up to follow his colleague, "bring me the dark one.

The two officers parted their uniform kilts as the two girls were dragged struggling towards them. First Kelli and then Shana were pushed down to sit with their naked backs against the Gnariotts' torsos. As her guard released her Kelli felt the officer's feeler snake around her neck as Gnarff's so often had. To her right she saw that Shana was experiencing the same thing. Another feeler began to stroke up the outside of her thigh. She whimpered, struggling against the Gnariott as he pulled her closer to him, crushing her arms between her back and his own leathery body. The Gnarriott started to grunt rhythmically.

Kelli watched in horror as she saw the Gnariott's horny sexual organ uncurl from beneath Kullux's kilt, curving upwards towards her cunt. The thick, leathery, gnarled stalk probed at her sex and then pressed relentlessly home. Buried inside her, it continued to swell until Kelli felt as though she had been skewered on a leathery pole. Gnerrix became as aroused as Kullux. Kelli watched, wide-eyed with pain, as she saw Shana experiencing the same horror as herself.

Farrin Gnarrf looked on in amusement. "Now councillor," he said to the paralysed Mayern, "I am sure that what we have seen is quite common across species as Mead here can confirm." Gnarff didn't wait for the embarrassed Mead to agree with him, but went on. "However, there is one small difficulty that your women will need to take care of. As Gnariotts come close to climaxing the sexual probe opens inside the female with a series of barbed hooks that clasp the Gnarriot to its mate. Of course that is not a problem for us with our leathery skins but for humans the results can be unpleasant or worse if they are not prepared."

Kullux and Gnerrix were grunting almost as one. Kelli felt the probe begin to expand again inside her and then gasped with pain as she felt a stabbing inside her cunt. She tried to wriggle free but Kullux pressed her down against him. Each movement only made the pain worse. Her mouth opened wide in a soundless scream of pain.

"The hooks will have penetrated the walls of the vagina, if the women attempts to break free she will tear her insides. Luckily our two friends here are secured so as to ensure their safety. They have to stay still until their partners are sated and the probe subsides." Gnarff had moved beside Mayern. Mead watched in disgusted disbelief as he began to probe beneath the paralysed woman's skirt with one of his feelers. "Take note Councillor, you will need to advise your ladies accordingly."

Kelli tried to remain still as Kullux began to thrust against her with new vigour. Now he was clasping urgently at her breasts with his pincers and his feelers were crushing around her throat. This was nothing though to the stabbing sensation deep inside her as Kullux climaxed with a final snort of triumph, a high pitched whistling exhalation and a spurt of seemingly ice cold jism, inside her.

Gnerrix followed suit almost immediately. Kelli could see that Shana was transfixed with pain just as she was. Slowly, the Gnariott's probe deep inside her began to subside, slipping from her tortured cunt. As it did so Kullux gave another grunt and pushed her from his lap, sending her sprawling on the floor before him. Moments later Gnerrix finished and pushed Shana to the floor beside her friend. The two were distraught but both knew they dare not think out to each other lest Gnarff discover their secret ability.

Chapter 17

In the junior officer's mess, Garan Duufrig was gambling and, for once, winning. The game had attracted a crowd of officers, each urging on one or other of the players. Duufrig's opponent Chief Drive Engineer, Shicnan Warrax, sat opposite him with a glum face. Behind him stood Deeta Janes and Marni Carris, the two Sol3a women that had been allocated to Warrax when the crew had been assigned their bounty. As they watched their fears grew, sensing that a bad evening at the table for Warrax would mean a bad night for them.

Garan Duufrig, slapped down the three bone strips – "Anax, Belfor Criag!" he bellowed triumphantly. "My win, I think." The crowd at his back whooped their agreement.

His opponent got to his feet and tossed his pieces onto the table. "Curse you, Duufrig. You've got the luck of seven, tonight."

Duufrig grinned as he pulled the pile of his winnings towards him. "Just not your night, Warrax; sometimes you just can't win."

"That's a month's pay you've taken off me."

"Do want to win it back?"

"No, I'm all out of stake money."

"That's OK, you can put up the girls." Duufrig pointed to the two chained Sol3a women that stood behind Warrax. "Those two against the cash you've lost tonight."

"Ah, come on, Duufrig, they're my allocation." Warrax had been enjoying the benefits that having Deeta and Marni brought.

"Sure, I guess that means you can do what you like with them. But if you want to spend the next month on nothing but standard rations…. " He went to get up from the table.

"Oh, shit. OK Duufrig, you're on."

A voice called out from behind Garran. "Stake on the table – you've got to put your stake on the table." There was a roar of laughter as two of Warrax's companions grabbed the girls and pulled them towards the table. The girls struggled and whimpered as they were pulled across the table, belly up, one in front of each player. Their clothes were already tattered as a result of their mistreatment over the past week but now each had her shirt pulled open. "There you go lads, that'll give you something to play on," somebody called. Rough claws and feelers held the squealing girls down, stretched across the table, and the game began.

The bone strips piled up in front of each player. Warrax gave a smile and laid three down on the belly of Deeta who was spread out in front of him. "Anax, Belfor, Criag. Mine, I think."

Duufrig looked on impassively. "I'll take one more piece – you never know," he said, reaching for the pile. He picked up another bone strip, looked at it and then at Warrax. "Oh," he said, "I guess Four Darak beats that, doesn't it?" tossing the pieces down on Marni.

Warrax gave a groan of defeat.

"Thanks very much," said Duufrig, grabbing the neck chains of the two girls and jerking them up from the table. "These two will go nicely with the one I have already. Let me know anytime you fancy another game." Grinning, he led the two women, sobbing with humiliation, from the mess and towards his cabin. He was followed by the raucous comments of his colleagues.

Chapter 18

Kelli and Shana lay sprawled on the floor of their cell, still whimpering from the horror of their rape at the hands of Kullux and Gnerrix. With their wrists chained behind their backs they could give little help to each other. They had no food; the only concession to their comfort was a small tin dish of water on the floor of their cell from which they could lap like animals.

They drifted in and out of a shallow sleep but stirred awake when they heard the bolts of their cell door being opened. "Oh no," thought Kelli, "no more."

"It's OK," Shana came back. "We can take it."

The two of them twisted around as the door to the cell opened, revealing Mead. She came in, followed by a small, tracked, medi-bot. The white robot carried on its back a bowl of steaming water. Mead approached the two girls. "You'll be all right," Mead said reassuringly. "There'll be no serious damage. You kept still while they were in you. You'll be sore but you'll heal."

She crouched down. "Don't be scared," she said. "I've come to help you." She pointed to the bowl. "I'll bathe your wounds." She took a sterilised cloth from a pouch on the medi-bot and approached Kelli. Soothingly she passed the swab across the caked blood and jism that streaked the inside of Kelli's thighs. Kelli winced as the antiseptic stung at the cuts and abrasions that Kullux had inflicted on her.

Mead could see that her attentions were helping Kelli. She tossed the swab into a disposal bag on the medi-bot, pulled out another swab and set to work on Shana. "Oh," he's cut you badly," she said pointing to a four inch slash on Shana's leg. Gnerrix's organ had slapped back against her as she'd been pushed clear and the barbed glans had done its work. She reached into the medi-bot's casing and pulled out an aerosol can, spraying a layer of artificial skin across the cut. "There, that should help it heal," she smiled. "And this should help too."

Mead took a key from a pocket and unlocked Kelli's wrist cuffs. "I can't leave you free, though," she said fastening the cuffs again at Kelli's front. Kelli gave a smile of gratitude. Mead did the same for Shana.

As Mead finished what she was doing the door behind her was kicked open. Nataya, the mercenary strode in. "Sorry to interrupt, Mead," Nataya said. "Gnarff wants his toys back."

"They're in no condition for more of his treatment right now," Mead responded.

"They'll be all right, now you've patched them up. Why don't you go look after your human zoo? Or maybe you'd like to ask Gnarff if he really meant it when he said they were to join him?"

Mead knew better than to question Gnarff's orders. "OK but take it easy with them. They've had a rough time." She left the cell as Nataya clicked her fingers. In stepped the shackled and ball gagged figures of the two flight attendants from the shuttle each carrying a large box. "I don't think you've met my two friends," she said. "Allocated quite fairly, you understand?"

She looked down at the two silent girls. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongues?"

Kelli gave a throaty chortle and shook her head. She pointed to the scar on her neck and then to her open mouth. Nataya bent down and saw what had been done to Kelli and Shana. As she did so she saw the "Sol5g" tattoo on Kelli's breast. "Uhh, I thought that it was only Sol3a women that were… "

Kelli shook her head and pointed to her mouth again.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Look, Gnarff wants you in his suite but I need to have you dressed. Shana looked quizzical, Gnarff's usual desire was to have them stripped. This was something new.

Nataya clicked her fingers and one of the flight attendants came forward, knelt beside her and held out the box. As Nataya opened it Kelli and Shana saw an array of red-brown leather straps and plates.

Nataya turned to Shana and started by fastening a harness about the girl's shaved head. Then she buckled other leather pieces to the harness. As Nataya worked, Kelli realised what she was doing, Shana's head was being cased in a head-dress that mimicked the lobster head of a Gnarriot. "You too, honey," said Nataya, turning to Kelli and repeating the process. The other flight attendant brought in her box. With the head dresses in place Nataya began fastening more straps to the girl's arms. Leather mittens that held the fingers together with splints that made it impossible to bend the wrists were buckled to these. More leather plates followed until each girl's hands looked like lobster claws. Long wiry tendrils were screwed into sockets on the head pieces. Finally each girl was fitted with a tight leather skirt that hobbled their legs. A small fan of leather plates spread out behind each from a point mid-way down their calves. Their bellies and breasts remained naked. Nataya and her attendants seemed almost as horrified by the result as Kelli and Shana were. The two girls had been transformed into half human – half Gnarriott caricatures.

"Come with us," Nataya instructed. "Gnarff is waiting. You are to stand in attendance behind his throne while he conducts a crew meeting." She clipped a leash to the front of each girls head piece and led them out of their cell with her attendant following.

Chapter 19

Duufrig and Warrax stood at the door to Duufrig's cabin. "How's your head, Chief," Garan asked with a smirk in his voice. Although the junior of the two officers, he and Warrax had worked together for years and Garan had never been one to take rank too seriously.

"Yeah, not so bad considering I got really blasted after we finished – when was it ? – two nights back ? You should see my pit – looks like the main drive sprayed a planet's worth of vomit over it."

"Hey, you should get a girl in to clean it up. I could recommend one. Or two!"

"Oh, ha ha. How are you enjoying your spoils?"

"OK. Come in and see. I don't aim to hang onto them all for long."

Duufrig opened the door to his cabin. His three women were waiting as instructed, standing beside his bunk, heads bowed. He looked around. His dress uniform, cleaned and pressed hung beside his wardrobe. The cabin was spotlessly clean. His bunk had been made and turned down. A tall glass filled with chilled beer stood on the cabin's table. He gave a grunt of approval. "Excellent," he thought. "Not bad," he said.

The girls were dressed in similar outfits. Each wore an off-the-shoulder top cut off to leave their bellies naked but with long, loose sleeves that gathered at long cuffs. Each wore a short flared skirt that hung from her hips and barely covered her crotch. Only the colours were different; acid lemon, lime and peach.

"Oh very cute," Shicnan Warrax approved.

"I thought so," relied Garan. "I find the colours help me to keep track of them. All these Sol3a women look alike to me – now I don't have to keep looking at their codes. Do you want a beer?" Warrax grunted agreement. "Peach!" Garan ordered. "Another glass for my friend."

Marni bobbed a curtsey and scuttled off to the galley.

Warrax sprawled on the couch that Garan had on one side of his cabin. Garan pulled a chair from beside the table and sat astride it. "Lime," Garan called with a click of a claw, pointing to Shicnan's side. "Lemon," he clicked again, pointing to the floor beside himself. The two girls crossed the cabin as directed and knelt, heads bowed, hands clasped behind their backs.

"You are really in your element, aren't you." Warrax laughed. "This is like one of your 'Astounding Stories' brought to life."

"Yepp, you're right. And I have to tell you reality is a whole lot better than fiction." Garan brushed a feeler across one of Deeta's barely covered breasts. She gave a quiet whimper but made no move.

"Oh, very cute," Warrax grinned as Deeta's nipples stiffened beneath the thin cloth of her top. "She's very well behaved. In fact, they all are."

"They're 4.2 light units away from anything they might call home. It's crumbling to dust the further they get from it and they know if they upset me they can take their next career move through an air-lock. Yepp, they're well behaved."

Marni reappeared with a beer for Warrax. She placed it on the table beside him and knelt submissively. Warrax, picked up the glass and toasted his friend. "Great service," he said, "I'll drink in this bar again."

"Well don't get too keen on the idea. These ladies won't be a permanent fixture. I reckon that a trio like this will fetch a good price. It should be enough for me to purchase a rank of Navigation Officer – Second Class. That will see me well set up for what ever Gnarff has planned after we drop this lot off back in Forgwin. I'll take my profits now while there's a shortage of conscious women on board – when we get back home there'll be a glut. Got watch the old supply and demand!"

Chapter 20

All of the crew had been summonsed to the main deck. Inevitably rumours abounded as the Gnarriotts crowded into the hall. The officers had been under strict instructions to ensure that their "allocations" had been secured in their quarters. The only ones excused the briefing were the small group responsible for monitoring the Sol3a women, still deep in hibernation in the cabins of their transit tubes.

Speakers in either corner of the room crackled and gave out the piping whistle of the signal for a fleet admiral.

Farrin Gnarrff appeared in full dress uniform. Behind him, shuffling in their heavy leather costumes, came Kelli and Shana. He eased himself into the throne like chair that stood on a platform. With a peremptory clack of a claw he gestured for Kelli to stand at his left, Shana at his right.

Gnarff's adjutant called the crew to attention and a hush spread across the hall.

Gnarff scanned the room. He looked at each of the girls in turn. They stiffened to attention, trying to hold their heads erect in the heavy, leather, Gnarriot masks.

"Comrades," Gnarff began, "stand easy." There was an shuffling as the crew relaxed. "I wish to begin by thanking all of you for your contribution to this project. As you know this has been a noble enterprise for the Gnarriott. Rescuing what many consider to be the core of the human species has been a important mission. You will hear from their leader shortly but you should know that I and the entire Gnarriott peoples recognise the skill and efforts of you all."

Gnarff turned towards the Sol5 mercenaries that stood at the back of the room. "We must also acknowledge the assistance of our allies from Sol5 and of course the efforts of Dr Mead. Now I would ask you to greet Council Leader Mayern of the Sol3a peoples." He gestured to a door at the side of the platform.

It was not clear what had happened to Mayern since the rape of Shana and Kelli but few that had known Council Leader Mayern on Sol3a would have recognised her now. She had been freed from her paralysis but she was still evidently very much under the control of Gnarff.

There was a barely controlled, communal grunt of lust from the assembled crew as she walked onto the platform. Gnarff had insisted that she dress in her new role as the madam of the brothel planet. Her hair was bleached, back combed and teased, She wore a transparent black top over a boned and tightly laced basque. Her skirt was knee length and straight but with each step she revealed a flash of thigh through the slit that ran from hem to hip. Stilt heeled, platform sole, shoes made her stand almost six inches taller. A slim, gold chain glinted on her ankle.

She spoke, seemingly oblivious of her appearance. "I am here today," she began, "to thank you for your intervention and your rescue mission. The women of Sol3a owe a great debt to the Gnarriott people." She looked back over her shoulder towards Gnarff. He gestured with his claw, urging her on. "When we are settled in our new home, you can be sure that we will repay that debt. We understand the importance that the Gnarriot place upon the sensual pleasures and we intend to do all we can to cater for your needs and desires." Mayern looked coyly at the audience, giving a flirtatious smile and flashing her extended eye lashes.

A joint "Hurrh" emerged from the assembled crew. Gnarff was evidently amused by Mayern's performance. His feelers were reaching out to Kelli and Shana, exploring their torsos, left naked by their lobster costumes.

Gnarff held up a claw and the crew fell silent. Mayern turned towards him. Gnarff spoke. "You see, my friends. Your valour will be rewarded. Some of you already enjoy an allocation. Others will have the opportunity to sample Councillor Mayern's services soon. However, I have some further news. You will understand that we and the Federation have not always seen things in the same way. My last discussions with their ambassador were less than cordial. With the rescue mission complete we have the opportunity to discuss things again. I shall be meeting Ambassador Taylor shortly."

Shana's eyes lit up behind her mask. Being careful to keep her thoughts to herself she glanced across at Kelli. Kelli nodded back. It was clear that the two of them had the same idea. If Taylor was returning, perhaps there was some chance of escape.

Chapter 21

Christa was sprawled on the bunk in her cabin, flicking in an idle way through the channels on the vid-screen. An empty bottle of the clear spirit that was the recreational beverage of choice for the Sol5g mercenaries lay on the floor.

Nataya appeared at the door clutching a half empty bottle of her own. "I'm so bored," she hollered, drunkenly. "So, so bored."

Christa looked up bleary eyed, "So, what's new? Boredom is the defining feature of life on this hulk. The most fun we had on this trip was playing slut tennis in zero-G on the Orbiter."

"You wanna go do some more?"

"Where? There's no zee-gee on this ship is there?"

"Oh, yes, quite a few places. And I can think of something more fun than slut tennis." Nataya looked lasciviously at her friend and slipped the zip of her tunic down a couple of inches. "In fact, you bring your little toy and the toy bag," she pointed to Christa's "allocation" who was curled up on a blanket in a corner of the cabin, shackled to the wall and looking worried by the turn of events. "I'll bring mine and another bottle and I'll show you a great game."

A short time later, Christa and Nataya were staggering along the lower deck corridor dragging their two slaves behind them.

"Where? Where are we going to?" Christa slurred as they bumped up against an entry port. "Thish ishh enging … enginging … engisherriing. Oh, shit, I'm too drunk."

"Engineering? Yepp. It's the main drive bay they keep this at zee-gee for ease of maintenance and …" Nataya slipped a card into the security lock "… I've found a key." The door hissed quietly and slid open letting the girls onto a platform that looked out over the vast space of the main drive bay. Warning signs confirmed that beyond the platform a zero gravity area existed. "Now this is the biggest playground your ever likely to see," smirked Nataya. "You and I are going to have some zee-gee loving with a little help from our toys. So let's get them stripped off."

Fifteen minutes later, the two flight attendant had been bound, naked, in a kneeling position, back to back, each with their ankles taped to the other's knees. The wrists and elbows were tied tightly behind their backs and from these ties ropes ran back between their partner's legs, across their crotch and up to clamps that cut into their nipples. Each wriggle by one pulled the rope across the crotch of the other and jerked at her clamps. The struggle of response caused the same sensation for the first girl. The two were hanging in free fall, high up in the drive bay, desperately trying not to move.

Christa and Nataya stripped off and launched themselves off of the floor of the engine bay towards their captive toys. Christa sat on the shoulders of one girl, straddling her face with her crotch and hooking her feet under the girl's arms. "Now you," she called to Nataya as her partner joined her and took up the same position. Christa reached out to stroke Nataya's breasts. "Isn't this more fun than squatting in the cabin?"

"Uh, huh," Nataya responded, leaning forwards to Christa and kissing her passionately. The foursome began to spin slowly. Nataya grabbed her slave by the hair and pulled the girl's face against her cunt. "Better get sucking, honey, or else you're going to have to learn to breathe through your ears."

Christa giggled and did the same to her slave. As their slaves complied, Christa and Nataya kissed, embraced and stroked. Their rising arousal caused the slaves to jerk at their crotch-tit ropes. As the foursome span slowly in zero-gravity, Nataya grabbed a spirit bottle from the floor of the bay, took a long pull of alcohol and passed it to her lover, laughing as she did so.

Garan Duufrig looked up from his monitor. It wasn't often that there was something worth scanning on the surveillance cams. "This is just too good to be true," he thought as the four girls span weightlessly across the void of the drive bay. Nataya bucked hard against the face of her slave as the orgasm shook her. Moments later, Christa followed suit. The two leaned together kissed deeply and then, in perfect synchronism, back-flipped off their mounts. Sent spiraling across the bay by the reaction the two trussed slaves, squealed as their tormented cunts and nipples drove them to the same state. Christa and Nataya sprawled near the floor of the bay finishing off their spirit as the others wriggled, jerked and moaned, swinging across the vault of the drive bay. "This little vid is going to be worth soooo much!" He tapped the recording drive and the laser card slid out. He picked it up, switched off the monitor and headed back to his cabin.

Chapter 22

Kelli and Shana had been returned to their cell. Their guards had stripped them of their lobster costumes and now they lay sprawled on the floor, naked and secured by their chains.

Shana rolled over on the sleeping platform and smiled at her friend. "I got us into this and now I think I can see a way out." She thought to her friend. "You heard Gnarff saying that the Ambassador is returning. That's our chance. We need to get out of these chains. Mead has the key. If we can force her to free us, we can reach Taylor and claim asylum from the Federation."

Kelli fingered the steel collar and chain that held her prisoner. "We're thinking the same way. Mead will be back with that medi-bot at some point. There's tape in there we could use to tie her up. There are drugs there too, put her out for hours I would think. Maybe we could get help from Terril, Christa and Nataya. They didn't look too happy with what's gone on with us. I don't think they would take over the ship or anything like that but they might help us to get to Taylor."

"Well sure," Shana came back. "We're all from Sol5 after all, got to stick together haven't we?"

"Sure, enough, lover," thought Kelli, and reached out for her. The two of them fell together in a close embrace as sleep overtook them.

Some time later, in his stateroom, Farrin Gnarff was peering at a scroll that had been passed to him by Shicnan Warrax.

"I know you were interested to see any early results from the emission detector, Your Excellency. It still has difficulty in keeping a clear channel open but we are at least getting some results."

"So, Chief Engineer, you are now able to pick up telepathic emissions?"

"Yes, Excellency. Not reliably, not consistently, but to some extent. We cannot discriminate yet between multiple emitters, for example, and there are often gaps in the recordings."

"And the prototype is positioned in the cell that my two slaves are held in?"

"As you instructed, Excellency. Immediately above their sleep platform, sir. It was where we felt there would be the best chance of intercepting either telepathic conversation or dream emissions."

"Hmmph, good." Gnarff grunted his approval.

Gnarff looked at the transcript that Shicnan Warrax had handed to him. Many of the words were garbled, much had been distorted and the conversation had been broken up by hissing and crackling in the system. Gnarff could see enough to concern him though. "Mead has the key….. there are drugs there too ….. help from Terril, Christa and Nataya …. take over the ship …. all from Sol5."

Chapter 23

Two of Duufrig's slaves, Lemon and Peach, were standing on a platform at the front of the mess hall. They had little choice in the matter, each secured as they were to a pillar; wrists chained behind them and ankles bound.

Behind them, on a large screen, a series of images cycled; one every few seconds. Lemon serving at table; Peach cleaning the cabin; Peach kneeling at Duufrig's side awaiting her orders; Lemon sprawled suggestively on Duufrig's bed.

Both girls had been carefully inspected by prospective buyers. Lemon's wrap-around top had been opened, leaving her breasts bared; Peach's skirt had been pulled up showing her shaved belly. Neither had protested, the bright red balls strapped into their mouths saw to that.

Garan Duufrig stepped on to the platform between the two girls. He tapped the microphone; a crackle indicated that it was working and the hubbub from the assembled crowd of Gnarriott crew subsided. "The first lot, Peach," he gestured towards Marni to his right, "is #0014395. This is a 100% genetically validated, Sol3a, female from the Northern Hemisphere temperate regions. I think you can see the physical attributes that make this lot an attractive proposition – well defined secondary sexual characteristics," The audience gave a collective snort of approval as Marni wriggled in protest and her top fell completely open. "However, she also has the full set of domestic skills as well – so you can expect to get back to a well cleaned cabin before you get to explore her other delights."

He turned to Marni and then to the audience. "I have a previous bid of 4000 credits. Who will start me at 5000?"

A response came almost immediately and bids soon ran up to 10,000. Marni meanwhile was struggling against her pillar but was achieving little other than to further excite the audience. Duufrig just smiled, he could see she was just helping the price.

From the back of the mess hall, Professor Margaret Mead looked on with distaste. The braying of the crew as the bids climbed higher and the whoops of approval as Marni struggled disgusted her. There was only one way that she could see to ease the lot of the Sol3 women and that was through the Federation and Ambassador Taylor.

As the bidding for Marni closed at 12350 credits, the mess hall PA system gave the warning chime that preceded a general stations announcement. "Stand by for docking with Federation Cruiser Thallaxapod in 60 minutes," the announcer called, "Air lock party in dress uniforms to pipe Ambassador Taylor aboard."

Duufrig waved to a group of four as they shuffled out from the back of the hall. "Sorry you guys will miss this," he called to them as they headed off to change in readiness for Taylor's arrival. "But never mind," he turned back to the remainder of the audience. "We still have time to put the second of our lots on sale." Lemon squealed into her gag and the audience gave a cheer. "I think we have to start at 10,000 for this one."

Margaret Mead watched from the observation bay as the Federation cruiser Thallaxapod drew alongside. The ship's docking tube eased out to connect with the Gnarriot freighter's main airlock. She checked herself in a mirror. She had chosen the same dress that she had worn when she and Taylor had first met. It had made an impact on him then and she needed to attract his attention now. She turned away from the viewing port and made her way towards the main airlock.

The guard of honour was already in place. Mead arrived just as Taylor and his party stepped through onto the freighter. Side stepping the guard, Mead walked directly up to Ambassador Taylor.

"Welcome again Ambassador," she said warmly.

"Why, thank you. Professor Mead, isn't it?" He smiled in response.

"Yes, it is good of you to remember."

"Well normally remembering those we have met is one of the tasks that the diplomat must put great effort into. In your case, however, Professor, I must confess I manage it with no difficulty."

"Goodness, Ambassador. I take that as a compliment."

"Well thank you, it was how it was intended."

Mead returned his smile. "Ambassador, I know that you will have a tight schedule but I would welcome the opportunity to tell you a little more of our work here. Perhaps you could join me for a drink later?"

"I'd like to be able to find the time, but.."

"Oh, come now Ambassador a few minutes surely? I am sure that your schedule must allow you some time for relaxation." She leant in closely to Taylor and whispered into his ear. "And I do think there are some things that the Federation should understand about the Sol3a programme. Things that I could not discuss before if you understand what I say."

"I see. Well, in that case, I am sure I can make time after my discussions with the Lord Protector. Until later, then."

"Excellent, Ambassador. Well I must not keep you from your real business." Taylor's party reached the corridor that led to Gnarff's state room. Mead left under watchful eye of the honour guard as Taylor was ushered on towards Gnarff's presence.

At the control desk in his stateroom, Farrin Gnarff, reached forward with a claw and snapped at the switch for the video screen. The image of Mead leaning forward conspiratorially to Taylor faded from the screen. Gnarff sighed with disappointment. Then a short buzz announced the arrival of the ambassador.

Chapter 24

Ambassador Taylor and Farrin Gnarff had been talking for over two hours. Finally Taylor got to his feet. "Well, Your Excellency," he said, "I am pleased that we have agreement. My Council will be most satisfied, Lord Protector, that Forgwin is to become such a valued ally of the Federation."

"Of, course Ambassador," Gnarff accepted the ambassador's compliments with grace, "surely you had no doubt than we would stand by our commitments to the Federation?"

"No, indeed, but now we have a practical way forward. It is also most satisfactory that are you able to be so helpful in identifying and addressing the problems of the inter-galactic criminality that so concern us all. Your assistance in attacking the malevolent forces in the galaxy is invaluable."

"Yes. Your troopers will wish to take action, immediately I assume."

"Indeed." Taylor gestured to the communicator on his belt. "With your permission, Lord Protector."

"Naturally."

Taylor pressed a button on the communicator and moments later two Federation troopers arrived at the door of the meeting room. Taylor handed the first of them a paper. The two saluted and withdrew.

Inside their cell, Kelli and Shana had spent the last twenty four hours in chains. With nothing but water to drink and no contact with the outside world of the Gnariott ship they felt abandoned. They were, at least, able to exchange thoughts with one another. They had tried to recover from the trauma of their public rape and the bizarre humiliation of their Gnarriott costumes but there had been no further medical attention once Mead had left them. They thought about their escape plans. They now knew how to take Mead hostage. They were sure she would come to them in their cell before the Tallaxapod left.

Demanding safe passage on the Thallaxapod was their best opportunity for escape and they were determined to try when Mead appeared. Brutalised sexually, naked, stiff and sore from their chains, they could only wait in hope.

Then, miraculously, hope seemed to be rewarded. The cell door sprang open to reveal the figure of a Federation trooper. He picked up his communicator and called into it, "I've found them, sir. Yes, No, they're shackled. Right, Sir. I'll bring them up." He strode over to where they sat and unlocked the ring that held their chains to the wall. "Come along with me ladies," he smiled. "You won't see any more of this cell."

The two girls gave grunts of relief as he helped them to their feet and led them from the cell. They knew that they were following the corridors back towards Gnarff's suite but now they were less fearful, taking comfort from the Federation trooper's presence even though their wrists and ankles were still shackled.

Chapter 25

Back in his suite, Farrin Gnarff was still entertaining Ambassador Taylor. The two were talking amiably, each drinking from exquisitely cut crystal goblets.

"Well, Ambassador," Gnarff began, "we must discuss exactly what the Federation wishes us to do. I can see that the Federation is concerned by the fact that our system stands between the territories of the Federation and the threats from the Aliansis Empire. I see that Aliansis is acting against the interests of the Federation but they have long courted Forgwin and we have always looked favourably on their approaches. There has been a long history to our special relationship with Aliansis as you know. However, Ambassador, I must say that your latest proposals have helped us to see where our best interests now lie."

One of Taylor's troopers appeared with Kelli and Shana in tow. The two girls were puzzled to see Gnarff and Taylor, side by side on the state-room's couch, deep in conversation.

Their confusion was increased moments later when two more of Taylor's troopers appeared holding between them a helpless and struggling Dr Mead. I'm sorry Sir," one of the troopers said, apologetically. "We had to use a silencer." Mead had been pulled from her bed, still wearing her short, grey, sleep tunic. She was handcuffed and ball gagged, her long white hair caught up in the gag's strapped and padlocked harness. A reddening lump on her temple told of the fight she had put up as the troopers had seized her.

Gnarff looked impassively at the captive anthropologist and ignoring her muffled protests, turned towards Taylor. "Ambassador, I am disturbed to have to tell you that your suspicions of improper actions in relation to the liberation of the Sol3a women were correct. It has been painful for me to discover that some of those closest to me appear to have conspired in an act of treachery that would have undermined the emerging co-operation between the Forgwin system and the Federation. However, we know what our commitments to the Federation require."

Ambassador Taylor got up from the couch. He turned to the struggling albino. "Doctor Allison Mead, you have been arrested by the authority of the Federation under suspicion of involvement with inter-planetary slave trafficking. You are accused of subverting the welfare and ecological support programmes that the Forgwin system had put in place for Sol3a in order to acquire slaves which you intended to traffic to the Aliansis Empire."

Mead shook her head and tried to protest through her gag.

Taylor continued. "Because of the security concerns in this sector you will be transhipped on the Federation vessel Thallaxapod and held awaiting trial in a detention facility. You will be under the legal jurisdiction of the Federation military courts. Interrogation will determine the extent of further charges to be brought. The courts may choose to allocate council to your case if it appears that there is sufficient evidence of a defence requiring support."

Mead struggled impotently against the troopers. Taylor turned towards Kelli and Shana who were now held securely by the two troopers that had brought them to the state room. "Kelli Failte and Shana Wilson, you have been identified as part of Mead's conspiracy. You will also be held pending your testimony as witnesses or to answer charges under related offences."

The two girls shook their heads in denial and tried to grunt denials but Taylor ignored them. Further commotion from the corridor outside the state room heralded the arrival of three further troopers. Crista, Nataya and Terril were dragged into the chamber. Each wore the same type of locked harness gag that held Mead silent, each was shackled hand and foot.

All three had been in bed. Nataya was naked. Gnarff noticed, intrigued, that she had a tattoo of Sol5 across her belly carefully positioned so that her protruding navel made the planet's famous great red spot.

Taylor gestured towards the line of women. "I assume that these are the remaining perpetrators?"

"Indeed. I am pleased that you were able to secure them so swiftly." Gnarff leant forward in a conspiratorial manner towards Taylor. "This appears to have been an extensive plot by some of those from Sol5G. Two of the them," he waved a claw towards Kelli and Shana, "were put aboard my ship as part of an elaborate charade. It appears that they succeeded in subverting Dr Mead here. Then, together with these others that had assisted in our rescue mission for Sol3a, they aimed to prevent the establishing of the new colony. Instead, they intended to trade the entire population."

Taylor repeated the charges that the three mercenaries were to answer and turned to Gnarrf. "A remarkable business. Lord Protector. An audacious enterprise by any assessment. How did this come to light? You must be pleased that your intelligence activities are so diligent."

"Well, Ambassador, you will understand that in circumstances like these the methods we have to use are, shall I say, less orthodox than would perhaps be the case in a conventional criminal case. Be assured, however, that there is sufficient information available to warrant the detention of this group. I would hardly be keen to have Mead arrested – after all she has been the architect of the Sol3a relocation programme. Of course, I see now that her interest in the programme was not for the humanitarian reasons that I had thought. But Ambassador, as I know you understand, Forgwin has already made it clear that we wish to collaborate with the Federation in suppressing any form of slave trading……."

"Lord Protector, the Federation is most grateful for you help in assisting us. I can see that we have shared goals nt just in relation to Aliansis. The apprehension of the criminal Mead and her associates demonstrates Forgwin's commitment to ridding this sector of any question of slave trading."

Taylor went on. "Now, to more practical matters. In exchange for the rights to establish a military base as part of our front against Aliansis we will be making available funding to help establish the new Sol3a colony. We are sure that your plans for the colony will enable it to be self-funding in time and will create a valuable R&R facility for Federation forces as well as giving us a strategic base in this sector. I think that the arrangements suit all of us."

"Err, excuse me sir." One of the troopers that had arrested Crista, Nataya and Terrill, spoke up.

Taylor looked towards the trooper. "What is it sergeant?"

"Sorry to interrupt sir, but it's what you said about R&R… When we arrested these three they had four Sol3a women in their cabins. There were two that they had brought with them and two that claim they had been sold to these women in some way."

"I see," said Taylor. "Well that's just more evidence of their involvement in trafficking. What's your point, sergeant?"

"Sir, they should be repatriated with the rest of the Sol3a women, of course, but me and the lads were wondering if they might be allowed to show their gratitude for being rescued in some way. A little R&R for the lads, if you see what I mean, sir. I'm sure the girls would be keen, they seemed very grateful when we took these three away."

"Ambassador, let me help here," Gnarff interjected.

"Of course, Protector, these women are under your care in any case."

"Yes, yes. Well the troopers here have done an excellent job. I, for one think efficiency should be rewarded. As a desired virtue in those around me it comes second only to loyalty," he shot a sneering look towards Mead. "I will talk to Councillor Mayern, she has responsibility for establishing these services. She should start by helping out your loyal and effective squad here. Leave it to me."

"There sergeant, you have your answer," Taylor smiled.

"Thank you very much, sir. Thank you, your lord protectorship, the lads will…"

"Yes, yes,, I am sure." Gnarff cut him off. "Now get these criminals to their security pens. You'll hear from Mayern later."

"Yes sir, right away, sir." The sergeant gestured to his squad and the six women captives were hustled out of the state room.

Chapter 26

Farrin Gnarff poured himself a large glass of the foaming alcoholic brew that Forgwin was famous for. He reached out with one claw and flipped a switch on the control panel beside his chair. The video screen sprang into life showing a comfortably furnished room, one of those that had been previously used to house Mead's anthropological study collection.

In the room, Councillor Mayern was sprawled languidly on a couch. Gnarff was pleased to see that her conditioning was working so well. Her dress was black, low cut and sleeveless; the bodice tightly boned; the skirt, skin tight to her calves where it splayed like the bell of a trumpet. She wore velvet gloves that reached over her elbows. Beside her stood the sergeant that had led the arresting troopers, resplendent in full dress uniform; at the far end of the couch stood Deeta Janes, her wrists and ankles shackled.

Gnarff twisted the gain control for the sound level in the room and Mayern's voice could be clearly heard. "Well, young lady, I hope you are impressed by the trouble your rescuer has gone to. Does he not look splendid?"

"Yes, Councillor. Sorry, yes, Madame," Deeta stuttered.

"Well, I am sure you will want to show just how grateful you are to be freed from the grips of the Sol5 mercenaries. I will leave you together. Sergeant, I am sure you will have a pleasurable time."

The sergeant gave an embarrassed cough. "Thank you Madame Gabrielle. I am sure I shall."

Gabrielle Mayern got to her feet and left the room. The sergeant watched as she walked away, each step hampered by the tightness of her skirt and the height of the heels that she wore. He turned back to face Deeta and sat on the couch. "What's your name, girl?" he asked.

"Deeta, sir, if that pleases you. Or anything you choose."

The sergeant grinned. She had evidently been well schooled. "No, Deeta will be fine." He beckoned to her to approach him. "I like your costume," he said. "Where does it come from?"

"Well sir, on Sol3a in the past there were women that were known for the pleasure that they brought to their men. Madame Gabrielle thought it would be appropriate if we were to dress as they did. Women of the harem, she called them, I think."

"And were these women always veiled as you are?" The sergeant reached out to Deeta and traced his finger across the diaphanous cloth that covered the lower half of her face.

"I think so, Sir. Their faces were veiled but their bodies were on display as you see mine. I think it was intended to excite their lovers."

The sergeant looked across at Deeta. The white and gold trimmed costume pushed her breasts together emphasizing her cleavage. Her belly was bare and her legs could be glimpsed through the sheer cloth of the skirt that hung from the thick gold belt that circled her hips. "You can be sure it works for me, honey," he smirked.

Deeta hung her head in embarrassment. The sergeant sensed that she was blushing beneath her veil. "Hey, don't get all coy," he laughed. "That's the effect you wanted isn't it?"

"Well I don't know, this is all very new to me. I am very grateful of course and Councillor, I mean, Madame Mayern has asked me to be nice to you but I don't know, I've mean I've never, not with, well, not with a man you understand."

"How come? You're a good looking girl; I'd have thought you'd be fighting them off."

.

"No, on Sol3a it was not possible. There were no men there, no male humanoids at all. In fact the idea of men was a mystery to us. We know that there used to be men on Sol3a thousands of years ago but they were never spoken of. Some of the girls at my school claimed to know how men and women used to reproduce but we never really believed them."

"You'll find we can be enjoyable bed partners, Deeta. I'll be happy to give you a little education." The sergeant grasped the chain that linked Deeta's wrist shackles and pulled her towards him. She fell to her knees at his side.

"Oh, no, please no," she protested.

"Come now my little harem slave, I thought you were here to please me? Don't worry. Get busy with your fingers here…" He pointed to the criss-cross lacing that closed his uniform breeches. "I'm sure you girls got to pleasure one another with your fingers, tongues, lips and your teeth. I suggest you set to in similar way with what you find in there." He pushed her towards his crotch.

Deeta tried to pull away but the Sergeant pulled her back. "My pleasure, your job," he snarled. "Don't make me force you." He raised his hand as if to strike her.

The girl was sobbing now as she fumbled with his breeches. As they opened, the Sergeant's erect penis sprang from within. Deeta fell back in shock. "What is that?" she gasped.

The Sergeant smirked. "What makes us different from women. Get used to it, You'll be seeing plenty more. Though not many as good as that, I fancy."

Deeta stared, fascinated, at the Sergeant's cock and its glistening tip. "Don't just look," the Sergeant ordered, losing patience. He reached forward and tore the veil from Deeta's face. "Get that out of the way and take it in your mouth." He grasped the hair at the back of her head and pushed her face down towards his cock. Deeta cried out in pain as he twisted her hair but she did as he asked and took his cock into her mouth. She gagged against its salty taste and the bulk of it but the Sergeant kept her head pressed in place, thrusting his crotch against her face. She did as best she could to suck and lick at the Sergeant's cock but he was soon lost in animal passion, grinding away until Deeta felt his cock suddenly shake in spasm, filling her mouth with his cum.

The Sergeant sank back on the couch. Deeta tied to pull away, coughing, with cum trickling from the corner of her mouth. The Sergeant leant forward clamping his hand over her mouth. "Oh no you don't," he grunted, "you need to get used to the taste." He picked up the torn veil and stretched it across her mouth. "It's about time you learned that it's what us men want that you'll be serving up. He knotted the cloth at the back of her head, gagging her. "That mouth of yours was OK. Let's see what else you've got."

He wrenched at the top of her costume and it tore away, revealing her breasts. "Very nice," he grinned. "It's a shame to keep them covered up." Deeta tried to grab the ripped cloth back to her. The Sergeant slapped her face and grabbed the chain between her wrist shackles. Deeta gave a muffled cry as the Sergeant dragged her onto the couch. "We also like to see what's down here," he laughed as he pulled her skirt away from her. He thrust his hand between her thighs and forced his fingers into her cunt. She cried as he twisted his hand and squealed as he pinched at her tits with his other hand. She struggled under his weight as he rolled over on top of her.

"There you are girl. All that struggling is getting me going again." Deeta felt the Sergeant's cock swelling again between her legs. "Now this is what it's really about."

Deeta gasped into her gag as the Sergeant thrust home.

In the viewing gallery, Gnarff sat back and watched. Alongside him stood Mayern, also watching but apparently without emotion. Gnarff snorted with approval as the Sergeant spent himself into Deeta's cunt. It was nice to see, he thought, that Federation troops were as capable of enjoying themselves as well as his own. Perhaps this alliance could be made to work.

Chapter 27

Ambassador Taylor was in deep conversation with Lord Protector Gnarff in the security bay of the Federation Criuiser Thallaxapod.

"Lord Protector, I thought that before your ship departed you would be keen to see how we are dealing with the accused. I completely agree with you that it is no-one's interests to bring this group to trial just yet. To do so would perhaps disrupt the foundation of the new colony. Even with a secure hearing it is possible that word would leak out and alert the others that you will be seeking to arrest. I came to the conclusion that the best course was for me to sign a stasis order for each of them. We can review it once the colony is fully operational and once you have completed any further investigations that seem necessary."

"Excellent Ambassador," Gnarff beamed with approval. "Are you confident that stasis technology will provide a reliable way of containing them?"

"Oh, yes. That is why I asked you here. I thought that you would be keen to see how we had implemented the stasis orders." Taylor beckoned Gnarff forward as Federation troopers swung open two heavy doors.

Inside the next room the lighting was dim lit but along each wall it was possible to make out the rows of stasis tanks. The clear, cylinders, two metres tall and half a metre wide, were each just large enough to hold one humanoid. Above each blinked a pair of lights, one amber, one green.

Gnarff peered into the room with interest. "I can see that the Federation has some advanced technology here. How does it differ from the hibernation systems we are using for the Sol3a women? We have found the hibernation system provides an effective mechanism and we can administer it on a wide scale as you have seen. This is obviously much more difficult to scale up."

Taylor warmed to his subject, keen to be able to inform Gnarff of the Federations innovations in the field. "Yes that's true. The main differences as I understand it are that your hibernation approach renders the subject unconscious and unaware of passing time whereas here the subject is completely conscious and aware of time but is unable to act."

"Intriguing, an appropriate approach when used as a means of punitive detention."

"That was one of the reasons behind the development. It means we can detain an offender for a year but they experience a detention of 5 times that length. It saves our resources and you can be assured it has acted as a considerable deterrent. However, these detainees have not been found guilty of any crime yet. There are other reasons for using stasis in this case. Here we can revive the subjects and re-apply the stasis field without significant neurological or physical effect – that is essential if we wish to interrogate the subject on a regular basis as we will no doubt need to."

"Ah, I see," Gnarff approved. "That is certainly not possible using our hibernation methods.

"And of course we can apply a stasis field for much longer than current hibernation techniques. What would you expect as a safe maximum for your hibernation approach?"

Gnarff looked thoughtful. "Perhaps 12 months, maybe 15 months, no more."

"Well these tubes are rated at up to 5 years. It is a far more practical solution for this type of problem - I would not be surprised if the investigations took some time."

Gnarff peered closely at the tubes. Those that were occupied were illuminated by a pale light that fluoresced slightly on the gelatinous medium inside them. In each the occupant, naked and motionless, hung suspended by the gel.

In the nearest tube Mead floated, her feet perhaps six inches above the bottom of the tube, her arms hanging limply at her side, her white hair slicked back against her head and held in a pony tail that streamed away behind her.

"Can you see how they are maintained, Protector?" Taylor asked, before leaping on to explain. "The mask delivers the low levels of oxygen needed and removes carbon dioxide, obviously. The catheters to the arms provide nutrition and the stasis drugs. They also manage excretion functions. The gel provides a low sensitivity temperature controlled environment and the electrical leads allow us to monitor vital functions much as in any hibernaculum. They also let us initiate the wake/sleep cycles."

Gnarff turned back towards Taylor. "And thinking of the need for interrogation; how often can you cycle a subject?"

"These tubes are rated for 40 cycles per individual session. After that there needs to be a minimum of six months between sessions but then the cycles can be repeated. We have some developments that can provide around double the number of cycles but there is an increased risk of memory impairment with each additional cycle. That would be a definite drawback for subjects such as these. I imagine we will wish to interview them repeatedly and will be looking for high levels of recall about their alleged conspiracy."

"Hmm?" Gnarff seemed distracted. "Oh, yes of course. I am sure you will be most thorough. We expect to gain corroborative evidence from other sources, though."

Kelli and Shana were in the two tanks next to Mead. As Gnarff looked at them Kelli gave a shudder and Shana twitched in response. After a moment the two women were still once again. Gnarff looked surprised. "What causes that?"

"We're not sure. It's not been observed in the others. They are aware of some of what is happening around them, of course. It may be some neurological response. It's also been suggested that there is some psychic interaction. The gel serves to reduce sound and visual inputs to the subject but there is a possibility that it may amplify mind reading propensities."

"Ah, interesting. They were both strong psychic emitters as you know. Still to return to your point regarding the interrogation of these subjects….."

"Yes. Well I propose that we should use our intelligence division, I think that the issues involved are too important to be left to our normal policing officers. After all, if proven, the acts of these women threatened the cooperation between Forgwin and the Federation. We cannot be too careful where the threat from Aliansis is concerned."

"No indeed, Ambassador. I agree with your approach. In the mean time I intend to pursue further proof at what appears to be the heart of this problem."

Chapter 28

Garan Duufrig was sitting at the navigation console. A final check of the lamps on the panel revealed that all was well with the shuttle cylinders. He spoke into the microphone of his headset. "Shuttle cylinders ready for separation. Undock sequence commences in sixty minutes." He pressed a button on the panel in front of him and watched as counters for each cylinder started to tick away the seconds until the latches that held them unfastened and they were to ease away from the freighter, setting off on a trajectory for the surface of Forgwin5c – the moon designated for the new colony.

Duufrig watched the ticking numbers with a mixture of regret and satisfaction. He had certainly enjoyed the use of Lemon, Lime and Peach but he had got out at the right time. He he had taken his profit at the best possible moment. Once it had become clear that all the Sol3a women would be going into the colony and that his ship would not be waiting around, there hadn't been any trading opportunities for those that had bought into Sol3a company.

All of the "allocations" that had been passed out to the crew had been brought back earlier in the day. Some of the "owners" had been pretty displeased but the security Gnarriotts hadn't been prepared to argue. Many of the women now realised what their fate was to be and had resisted the guards that came for them. It had done them no good either, of course.

Each of the women in turn had been collected from whichever cabin they had been billeted in. Stripped of their clothes they had all been taken to the crew mess hall, where they had been herded together naked. The security Gnarriotts corralled the women with electric prods, making sure that they were all huddled closely together. There were about two hundred women in the hall when Gabrielle Mayern and Farrin Gnarrf came out onto the platform in front of them.

Gnarff said nothing but watched as Mayern stepped forward to the front of the platform. "Ladies," she had said, "I know that some of you may be afraid but you need no longer worry. We must now make ready for the next stage on our journey. Those of you with even numbered designators, listen to me." There was a shuffling in the hall as the women checked the bar coded numbers on their arms. "If you have an even numbered designator please leave the room by the door behind you. Those of you with odd numbered designators remain here."

The women chosen to leave looked towards the platform with concern. Mayern tried to reassure them, security Gnarriotts moved forwards with their prods and slowly the women began to leave. As they filed out of the room they exchanged anxious glances with those remaining, neither knowing their own fate or the fates of the others.

Mayern watched as the women left. She spoke out to the remainder. "Please do not be concerned for your friends. They will come to no harm but you have been chosen for an important role. You have been selected as pioneer founders for our new colony. Behind you, you will find three closets. Inside you will find new clothes, suitable for your new roles as pioneers." Mayern pointed to the back of the hall. "Please ladies, robe yourselves."

Gnarff grunted with satisfaction as the women began forming themselves into lines at the doors to the closets. Occasionally there were sharp cries as a prod shocked one of the women into line.

As each reached the head of the line they were handed a long white robe.

Marni Carris stepped forward. The attendant ticked off her number, #0014395, as she passed one of the identical robes to her. She looked around at the other women and, like them, began to pull on the dress, grateful to be able to cover herself again, anxious to protect herself from the gaze of the watching Gnarriotts. The robe fitted her loosely, hanging down to the floor and draping across her full breasts. The halter neck left her back, shoulders and arms bare. As well as the robe itself she had been given a head dress - a golden slide that held drapes of cloth reaching from her head down to golden bracelets on her wrists. She was dressed but as she looked down at herself and then at the others she could see that she was barely covered. The Gnarriott guards returned her look with their own featureless stares but she knew what they were thinking.

Gnarff watched the women dressing for a few moments, pleased that they were not needing more encouragement. He turned to Mayern. Gripping her by the arm he took her to the edge of the stage. He slid the tip of his other claw down her cheek. "Now, the others," he said.

Chapter 29

As the women of Sol3a were being prepared to establish their colony, Allison Mead remained in stasis. Months went by as the Thallaxapod cruised further and further from the Forgwin system with its cargo of accused traitors.

Hanging suspended in the glutinous gel of the stasis tube, naked, Mead was dimly aware of the world around her, but acutely aware of the passing of time. She was partly conscious, able to sense in some respects, but unable to move – no thought could stir her muscles. Through the gel she sensed brightness as lights came on in the tube chamber.

She felt a change in the air being pumped to her mask and a curious, cold, sensation in the vein where the stasis drugs were introduced. Slowly, full consciousness began to return and as it did so she felt the stasis gel draining out of the tube. As the level of the gel fell, she drifted down in the tube. Unable to support herself after what seemed like an eternity in stasis, she collapsed against the side. The last of the gel slid away and Mead watched helplessly from the floor of the tube as the door in front of her opened.

Hands reached into the tube, disconnecting Mead from the breathing, feeding and drug tubes, and pulling her out. Two men in white laboratory coats supported her as she tried, unsuccessfully, to walk. They steered her to a shower cubicle at the far end of the tube hall and helped her inside. She collapsed in the tray of the shower. They looked at her impassively and hosed the remains of the gel from her body. She coughed, unused to breathing without the assistance of the mask that had fed her oxygen for the preceding months. There was no towel for her but once the shower had finished one of the men tossed a shirt to her. Still unable to stand without assistance, she sat in the well of the shower as she pulled the shirt on and tried to cover her nakedness. She realised the shirt had no fastenings. It took up the wetness from her body and clung to it.

Without a word, the men pulled her to her feet and dragged her from the shower. She was half pulled, half carried from the tube hall, across a corridor and into a brightly lit room. The men took Mead to the centre of the room and laid her on the leather covered couch that stood there. Mead collapsed weakly onto it, blinking in the bright light.

"Here, there is a drink for you." Mead heard a woman's voice from behind and a glass of pale brown liquid was passed to her. "Don't worry it is only a glucose mixture. You will need something as the effect of the stasis chemicals wears off."

She took the glass unsteadily in both hands and took a sip. The liquid was warm and sweet.

"Good. You will feel better for that." As Mead sipped at the drink the woman walked around the couch. She turned to the men. "Thank you, gentlemen, I'll take over now."

Mead looked at the woman. She was wearing a Federation military uniform; the same grey trousers and shirt worn by the men that had pulled Mead from the stasis tube. She saw that the woman wore the insignia of a captain.

"How do you feel?"

"Shaky, slightly sick, hungover."

"Hmm, that's normal. The glucose will help. Sit still. It will feel easier in a few minutes. The effects of stasis take some time to clear. While you recover let me introduce myself. I am Captain Jarrin Tarn of the Federation Intelligence Corps. I am responsible for assessing your defence. You do recall why you were in stasis, don't you?"

"Uhh, oh, yes" Mead answered trying to shake the after effects of the drugs from her system.

"Good that will make things easier.

Chapter 30

She was almost unable to think for herself anymore. From the moment she had followed the evacuation call and left her home she had lost control of her life. Drugged insensible by the mask she had put on after boarding; brought awake again to be allocated to one of the crew, numbered and renamed; her life on Sol3a seemed a lifetime away. Now naked, staring down at the even number tattooed on her arm she shuffled in line behind the other as they left the pioneer founders behind them.

Only a few days before she had been dressed in her short lemon skirt and tight low cut top, serving the Gnarriott navigation officer Duufrig. Then she had been dragged away chained, gagged and put on sale to another Gnarriott who had barely had time to get her to his cabin before the security squads had appeared to round them up in readiness for the rendezvous with Forgwin5's moon. Now Lemon wondered what more was to come as they were herded into the next room to sit, waiting, on the floor.

The security Gnarriots that had brought them there stood impassively beside the exits, obviously ready to stop any woman that tried to leave but not needing to take any action beyond the idle clack of a claw if any of them even tried to stand. Lemon looked up as Mayern and Farrin Gnarff entered. The guards stiffened to attention and the women got to their feet in anticipation.

Mayern was about to speak. Lemon was close to the platform where Mayern and Gnarff stood, she could see clearly that Gnarff was holding the back of her neck. At first it looked like a tender gesture but as Mayern spoke Lemon could see that Gnarff was lightly gripping her with a claw that threatened to snap shut at the first sign of any deviation from a carefully prepared script.

"Ladies," Mayern began. "Your colleagues have been selected to be the pioneering founders of our colony. Some of you will already have had the chance to experience what it means to serve our hosts," she looked down towards Lemon and appeared to smile directly at her. "You will know that at times it was difficult, that you needed at times to be urged to obey by the security staff. In our colony the Gnarriott will be our guests, we cannot expect them to provide security for us, we have to provide our own. It will be your task to ensure that our pioneer founders fulfil their destiny."

A moan of discontent ran around the room. Cries of "No" began to erupt. The heads of the guards swung in the direction of the dissidents.

Mayern went on. "I understand your concerns but you must realise that we have to act together for the good of us all." Gnarff nodded in agreement. "I am sure that the guards will be happy to take those of you that are unable to act with us to re-join the pioneer founders but I would not advise that as a choice for any of you. By taking on this role you stand the chance to make your own lives better and also can make the lot of your colleagues safer and easier.

Gnarff nodded to two of the guards. They pushed three large crates into the centre of the room. Mayern gestured to the crates. "Please line up and collect your uniforms. You need to be dressed and ready to enter the shuttle in thirty minutes."

Lemon joined the queue shuffling forward towards the crates, anxious about what was to come but curious about the future as well. As she reached the head of the queue she was handed a bundle of purple clothing. She turned it over trying to work out how to wear it, looking at her companions who were equally seeing what should be done with it.

Eventually she made a start. There were two pieces, a skirt and top. The skirt was easy and there was little enough of it. Cut low on her hips it barely covered her sex at the front but hung down longer at the back forming a point that reached to the back of her knees. The top was more complicated but by watching the others Lemon discovered how it should be worn.

Firstly tapes ran around her chest, just below her breasts. Lemon pulled up two triangles of cloth apparently intended to cover them. They only just succeeded, in spite of the fact that Lemon was hardly the most generously endowed of the women there. The triangles were joined together and further tapes allowed the top to be fastened behind the neck. This left a flap of cloth with more tapes hanging down at her front. Puzzled at first Lemon soon realised that the flap was designed to be worn as a mask, the tapes fastened behind her head, the flap covering all of the lower half of her face and draping down under her chin where it joined on to the rest of her top.

She looked around at the others, seeing that they were all now dressed and as bizarrely masked as herself. Mayern began speaking again from the platform.

"Ladies, thank you," she began. "You are now fully accredited security officers of the Forgwin5c colony. Your duties will be to ensure the safety of both our flounders and our guests. You shall be granted such powers and facilities as are needed to provide for these duties. Your masks will ensure that there is no question of your charges conspiring against you. I am sure you will all perform your roles well. Now please enter the shuttle."

As the masked women shuffled silently from the room under the watchful eyes of their Gnarriott guards, Gnarff used his claw to spin Mayern around to face him. "Well done," he grunted approvingly. "You're doing a good job of looking out for your girls. Keep them in line and their lives won't be too difficult." Gnarff snaked one his feelers around Mayern's waist. She struggled as the tip of the feeler slipped between the fastenings of her blouse and slid across her belly and up towards her breasts. Gnarff was amused by her silent, fruitless, efforts to evade his touch. "Now, Councillor, he smirked. I think we still have time for you to offer me some entertainment before your shuttle leaves."

Chapter 31

"How long is Tarn going to be working over that Mead cunt?" Trooper Genes pulled an illicitly stowed alco-pep can from a locker in the corner of the security suite and tore the cap off. He and his colleague had been on duty in the stasis chamber when security had come to take Mead for her interrogation.

"Two hours at least, I reckon, they'll be wanting her to give a deposition, I guess, otherwise they wouldn't have bothered to decant her," his opposite number, Trooper Harins, replied. Hartins gestured towards the drink. "You got any more of those?"

"Yuhh. You want?" In response to Harin's grinning nod, he tossed another across to him.

"OK," said Genes, "you want to play with some of the other toys?" he nodded towards the stasis tubes.

"Are you kidding?"

"What? Why not? If they'd stayed on the ship we'd have been able to take our turn at them anyways. We're just making sure they're good and ready for what'll happen to them when they finish in stasis anyway."

Harins took a long pull on his alco-pep. "OK, I'm up for it. Hey, anyways, they should be grateful. Chances are the next bit of fun they'll get is with those space lobsters."

"You referring to our honoured allies in the fight against the galactic terrorism of the Aliansis Empire? Surely not?"

Harrins gave a sneer. "Honoured allies? Funny how we've only just buddied up to them. Not too long back they had their snouts right up the butt of the Aliansis lot. They've got shells and pincers – they look like lobsters to me. Anyway I don't see why they should have all the fun." He stepped up to the panel by Kelli's stasis tube and hit the button marked "Cycle Out". An amber lamp began to pulse beside it. "This one will do me."

Genes pressed the same button on Shana's tube. "O.K. darling, come to poppa."

For Kelli and Shana consciousness slowly returned as the drugs left their system and the gel drained from the cylinders. Kelli was first to be pulled free of her tube as the door into it swung open. Harrins snatched the mask from her face and grabbed her by the arm. Still recovering from the effects of stasis she struggled as Harrins pushed her to the floor, pulled the belt from his trousers and used it to lash her wrists behind her. She gave a throttled grunt as he twisted her around onto her back.

Genes followed Harrins lead as Shana's tube emptied and strapped her wrists with a length of discarded power cable. He went to grab the hose from the shower cubicle. Harrins stopped him. "No, don't' bother with that," he laughed. "We can use the lube - more fun if they're a bit slippy." He grabbed a lab technicians coat from the back of a chair and ripped two strips of cloth from it. "Here," he said, "tossing one to Genes. "Knot this off around her mouth. We'll need to keep them quiet, even if everyone else is off playing with the good Doctor "

"No need, haven't you heard about these two?" Genes replied. "The Gnariotts took their tongues out. They won't be making any sort of sound that'll disturb." He reached across Shana and twisted one of her nipples. Although barely conscious she still arched her back in pain but gave out only the slightest, muted, squeal. Then he jerked he head back to show the still livid scar on her throat.

"Great," said Harrins. "No need for a gag so we' can play in their mouths too. This just gets better and better, I hardly know where to start."

"Well excuse me if I don't wait around while you make your mind up," Genes grinned, grabbing Kelli by her hair and pulling her around to face him. As his trousers fell about his ankles he pressed her against the side of the stasis tube, jamming his cock repeatedly into her and grunting with amusement as she tried to struggle against him.

Genes was pulling Kelli's head down into his lap and forcing her mouth over his engorged cock. Harrins had bent Shana across a one of the desks at the edge of the stasis tube chamber and was thrusting between the cheeks of her arse. Although neither of the women could make a sound their struggles was making their distress quite plain as the Officer of the Watch came in. The two troopers struggled to disentangle themselves from their victims and stand up.

"Oh, for heavens sake," the officer exclaimed. "Genes! Harrins! I might have known it would be you two. We're only eight weeks into this cruise you know. Can't you find anything to amuse yourself in your own quarters?"

"Yes, Sir, Sorry Sir." The two men answered as they dragged themselves to attention, their trousers around their ankles, and the bound women struggling and grunting on the floor at their feet.

Their officer gave an exasperated sigh. "Oh well, finish off and put them back in their tubes. And make sure you connect their leads and catheters properly. And get your belts back in your trousers too – that's Federation issue you know."

"Yes Sir, of course Sir."

The officer touched his cap in salute with his swagger stick, turned on his heel and left the stasis room. Genes and Harrins collapsed with laughter and turned back to the women as they cowered away from them. Genes spoke first. "Finish off, he said, didn't he?" Genes laughed. "Didn't say we had to be too quick about it though did he?"

Kelli gave a silent scream as he span her around and pushed her down on the floor with her bound arms trapped behind her back. Harrins did the same with Shana, roughly thrusting his hand between her legs. "No, no need to rush at all," he grinned.

Chapter 32

On board Gnarff's freighter final preparations were being made for the colonists to leave for their new homes. Once the cylinders had separated and started to head towards the surface of the moon, Farrin Gnarff's freighter began to pull out of Forgwin5 orbit. Few of the crew bothered to watch as they left the cylinders behind them, preferring their own crew stations or recreation centres to the view of the barren world beneath. Few even showed interest as the ship swung past their watery home world, using its gravity to accelerate them out of the Forgwin system.

Garan Duufrig was in Gnarff's quarters working on his commander's video screen.

"Are the crew very discontented to be leaving so soon?" Gnaarff asked him.

"Well, Excellency," Duufrig began carefully. "Of course they were disappointed not to be enjoying the new colony but I think they all see the need for our continued efforts."

"Hmm," Gnarff grunted sceptically. He knew that the feeling on the lower decks was more likely to be one of irritation at losing their shore leave. "No matter, assuming this link works I think I can provide some simple entertainment as small recompense."

"It should be connected now, Sir," said Duufrig, standing back from the console and pressing a button. The screen flickered into life. "There you are, Excellency, a direct link into the security camera systems of the colony." The screen showed a view across one of Forgwin5c's desolate rocky plains towards the complex of domes that housed the Sol3a women. The dull orange glow of Forgwin's primary star gave the view a look of warmth that it did not, in reality, possess.

"Thank you. That will be all for now. I will review what is on offer and you can tell the crew that material will be piped into their leisure channel from later today."

"I am sure that will be welcome, Sir."

As Duufrig saluted and left the cabin, Gnarff turned his attention to the video controls. A claw picked at the buttons calling up first one view, then another. All appeared peaceful. A camera panned across the main community hall showed a group of some twenty women, all clad in white, lounging on couches. Another shot into one of the smaller rooms set aside for hospitality showed two others clutching to each other, evidently trying to comfort themselves.

Gnarff was pleased to see that the security staff were stepping up to their roles. In one area set aside for them four of the masked women had pressed six of their sisters into their own service. Gnarff twisted the volume control and the sounds of the room came from the speakers surrounding the screen.

"Number three, here," one of the masked women ordered, clicking her fingers at one of the women. "Fetch us drinks." The white clad woman bowed her head, curtsied and left the room.

"You don't think we are being unfair to them?" One of the other guards asked.

"No," the first replied. "They have to be ready fro when our guests come. Helping them learn to behave well now will make it easier for them in the future. You heard what the Counsellor says."

"Yes, I know – 'Service Makes Safe: To Obey Is To Oblige'. Even so, it's hard for them."

"You can't think like that. It's their destiny. They have to serve for the benefit of all of us. We have the worry of keeping them up to the mark – it's us that'll suffer if they don't perform – don't forget."

"You whites have it easy," one of the others sneered at the girl kneeling by her side. "All you have to do is what you are told – no responsibility, no come back for anything apart from your own faults."

"Yes, Ma'am. I mean, no Ma'am." the girl replied, confused

Her tormentor swung a slap at her face, knocking her back on her heels. "Oh shut up or I'll have you gagged. "

In his cabin on the freighter, Gnarff nodded approvingly. It was good to see that discipline was being asserted. Quite apart from that though this sort of viewing would amuse the crew. A click of a button brought up another scene.

In a dimly lit room four women could be seen hanging in shackles from rings set high in the walls of the room that was evidently their prison. Two were "whites", clad in their pioneer founder robes, two were guards, still masked but helpless nevertheless. They had evidently been there for a short time as all four were still writhing and stretching to ease their discomfort. In time, Gnarff knew, the effort would leave them exhausted, they would hang motionless soon enough. The two whites wore mouth-stretching ring gags. From the grunts of complaint coming from the two in purple, Gnarff surmised that they were gagged as well beneath their masks.

Moments later the cell door opened and another masked guard entered. She gestured with a bottle towards the captives. "Any of you girls want some water?" she asked. The shackled women all nodded. "Just so you know, you don't get freed up when this works its way through," the guard called as she gave each girl water from the bottle. "We'll be back to watch you squirm."

Gnarff allowed himself a grunt of satisfaction – it was amazing how quickly one part of this species could be brought to exploit another given the right circumstances.

Another click, another camera. Mayern's cabin came into view. Gnarff wondered if she knew her cabin was subject to surveillance as well. He was pleased to see that her conditioning as the colony's madam was continuing to work well. She was dressed in a low cut gown with a tightly boned bodice and a skirt slit to her hip. Seated on a low couch she was confronting a white. Gnarff recognised the girl as one of the allocations that his navigation officer had sold so adroitly earlier having won her in the now notorious gambling game with Shicnan Warrax. The game had caused immense mirth to the senior officers when they heard of it.

Marni Carris, or Peach as Gnarff remembered her, was standing before Colony Leader Gabrielle Mayern with her arms strapped tightly behind her back.

"I understand," Mayern was saying in measured tones, as she flexed a riding crop between her hands, "that your guards have failed to induce in you the correct levels of respect. I should have thought that your earlier experiences with our Gnarriott friends would have convinced you of the need for compliance. You will learn to give compliance to the guards before I ever let you start thinking about earning your promotion to their ranks."

Gnarff grunted. Working their passage – wasn't that an idea she had taken from him?

"Please Colony Leader," Marni was begging. "Please let me make amends. I intended no slight to my guards."

"Well let's see," Mayern responded, clapping her hands peremptorily. Two guards appeared. Gnarff was intrigued to note that although they were masked and wearing identical uniforms they still contrived to achieve as much of an individual look as was possible. One of the guards had embroidered her mask with an intricate pattern in a golden thread. The other had found a way of dressing her hair in an elaborate style and of decorating her eyelashes so that there could be no mistake whose eyes were staring out over the mask.

Mayern turned to Marni. "Kiss their feet, girl," she ordered. "Remember! To serve and to satisfy are your only ambitions."

Gnarff was pleased. He watched as Marni made to obey. The pioneer founders seemed to be getting the right ideas. The Forgwin5c colony might be worth a visit by the time they got back from this trip. It was a long haul back to the Sol system but there was unfinished business.

Chapter 33

In the interrogation centre on the Thallaxapod, Captain Jarrin Tarn spoke slowly. Mead still laying weakly on the leather couch was careful to follow her words, "Now, as I explained, the purpose of this session is to help you to prepare your defence or your appeal for leniency as appropriate. Can I ask which plea you intend to enter?"

"Well, innocent, of course." In spite of her feeble state Mead spoke defiantly, clutching the shirt that was all she had to cover her nakedness, around her body.

"Are you quite sure about that? I mean it's quite, well, unusual." Tarn looked concerned.

"Of course I am sure. Why is it so unusual? I know I did nothing wrong."

"Ah, I think I need to explain. How familiar are you with the processes of the Federation High Court in the matter of cases related to off-world security and our relations with our allies?" Tarn turned to pick up a folder of documents from her desk.

"Uh, not really," Mead shook her head, confused. She felt her confusion was only loosely related to her recent awakening from stasis.

"Well. Let me see. The court will recognise a number of pleas from 'guilty with a request for mercy' through 'guilty without responsibility', to 'guilty without premeditation', 'guilty without knowledge', and finally 'innocent'. Generally speaking the court will increase the sentence depending on their view of how realistic the defendant's plea is. An 'innocent' plea is only usual if the accused is convinced that they have a strong case."

"Well, I am. I know I have done nothing wrong."

"With respect Doctor Mead, many of those accused of treasonable offences feel the same way. The question is can you prove it?"

"Surely it is up to my accusers to demonstrate my guilt, not for me to show my innocence."

"Ah. I think I am starting to see the problem. The Off-World Security sessions of the High Court are administered according to a different code. I am afraid that the nature of offences tried there is such that the presumption is that the Federation has good cause for bringing its case. It is up to the defendant to show that there is reason to question it."

"And how do I know what the nature of the Federation's case is? Can I have access to their witnesses and to their evidence?"

"Oh, no that would be quite impossible. If the defendant turns out to have been a danger to Federation security – which is quite likely as a result of one of these cases – it would hardly be appropriate for them to have access to sensitive Federation intelligence and connections with witnesses would also be inappropriate – their could be a question of intimidation or collusion. Our experience shows that only a small proportion of those accused are found innocent – it is too great a risk to allow access to this material when most defendants are a danger to our society."

"But how can I brief my defence counsel if …."

"Defence counsel?"

"Yes, my lawyers. I am entitled to representation, aren't I?"

"Well yes, in theory. But you will find it difficult to get representation in the Off-World Security Court. It's partly because of the fees, I guess, especially since counsel are not allowed to benefit from defending those that are eventually found guilty. Mainly, though, it's because of the ruling that in the event of an innocent plea being adjudged invalid the defence counsel is required to serve the same sentence as the accused. It's a measure designed to reduce time-wasting by unscrupulous lawyers and, of course, to prevent criminal or politically disruptive elements subverting the legal profession."

"So what can I do?" Mead appealed in despair to the Captain.

"Well there are two things I would advise. Firstly I would reconsider your plea. Acceptance that the Federation has a case against you will certainly make it easier for the court to hear your views and will reduce the sentence when, sorry – if, they find against you. Secondly you can make use of the procedure for a defendant's deposition. That's really what I am here for."

"A 'Defendant's Deposition' – does that allow me to present my defence? To put my side of things to the court?"

"Well, yes and no. I'll ask you a series of questions provided by the prosecutor's office and your responses are presented to the court as both evidence of fact and of your willingness to assist the court in its search for truth."

"And that can help my case? Reduce the possible sentence?"

"Oh yes, very much so."

"Well, let's get on with it. Can we do it now?"

"Yes, yes we can, but…."

"No, let's start. I can show that there's no basis for these accusations."

"Well, if you are sure…."

"I'm sure."

"OK." Tarn reached forward and pressed a button on her desk. The two troopers reappeared. "Dr Mead has agreed to make a defendant's deposition, please get things ready while I fetch the prosecution question pack." She got up from her desk and turned towards the array of memory cartridges that lined one wall of her office. As she did so, Trooper Gallymede grabbed hold of Mead wrists and pulled them up over her head, dragging her back on the couch. His colleague, Fenson, strapped her wrists together and clipped the strap to a fastening on the couch. As Mead tried to protest Gallymede wedged a ring gag into her mouth and fastened its strap at the back of her neck. Further straps held her ankles spread to each corner of the foot of the couch. The two troopers stood up and made their way to stand by Mead's head as she cursed them through her distended mouth.

Tarn turned back from the cartridge rack. Seeing that Mead had been secured on the couch and ignoring the anthropologist's, groans and struggles, she spoke to the two troopers. "Thank you, troopers. That will be all for now. I estimate that the defendant's deposition will take an hour or so. You can stand down until then. When she has finished she can be returned to stasis until the trial."

"Very good, ma'am." Gallymede and Fenson saluted and left. Tarn remained with Mead as she struggled against the straps grunting protests through her gag.

"Now, Doctor Mead," Tarn began as the troopers departed. "I have to explain the procedure to you. Your deposition will take the form of either agreeing or disagreeing with a series of questions that I will read out to you. It will simply be sufficient for you to nod or shake your head. I am only allowed to record a agreeing or disagreeing response – hence the need for the silencer which will prevent you prejudicing your defence by any injudicious statement. Do you understand?"

Mead gave an infuriated groan through her gag and tried to shake herself free form the couch but without success.

"Fine, fine. Then we can begin." Tarn slipped the memory cartridge she was holding into the console in front of her. Tarn picked up a metal head band covered with electrodes and connected by cable to the console. Mead watched in frightened anticipation as Tarn approached her with the head band. In spite of her struggles, Tarn fitted the band in place around Mead's forehead. "Please don't be concerned. This is to ensure that the questions are put consistently and fairly. It removes any question that I might slant the questions against you."

Mead gave a strangled grunt as Tarn fastened the headband in place and checked the cables. Tarn pressed a button on the console and Mead stiffened as she heard the recorded announcement from the deposition system. "Thank you for agreeing to participate in this evidence collection process," Mead heard as from one corner of her eye she saw Tarn scribbling notes on a clip-board pad. "Your responses will be recorded by the representative of the intelligence services that has enabled your connection to this facility. You will have the opportunity to respond affirmatively or negatively by nodding or shaking your head. In order to ensure that each question is adequately understood if there is a discrepancy between your response and that indicated by the evidence available to the prosecution you will receive a contra-indication. This will provide you with the opportunity to reconsider your response. We are most anxious that your responses are accurate and correspond to the evidence available. Thank you for your cooperation. The system will now administer an example of the contra-indication for your reference."

Mead struggled and screamed silently as the electric shock arced across Mead's temple and her entire body bucked as the electrical energy surged through her. The recorded questions began.

Chapter 34

On Sol5g, the great telescope of the Percival Lowell II Observatory was the only instrument within 5 light years able to study the corpse of what had been the home of humanity. It was hardly the ideal place from which to observe the dead world. The moon's orbit around Sol5a meant the vast bulk of the Sol system's largest planet, with its boiling clouds and angry red spot, dominated the sky. Only by careful computation of the moon's orbit and that of Sol5a and Sol3a could the astronomers have hoped to gain a short glimpse of the derelict sphere from which the Sol3a women had fled.

As far as most of the inhabitants of Sol5g were concerned, they weren't much interested. Sol3a might have been the home world once but no one on 5g felt they owed them anything and since Sol3a had been evacuated the Sol5g community had been left in peace. No tax collectors, no tourists, no chancers, they had the Sol system all to themselves. They had their hydroponic farms, their atmosphere generators and the same cloning techniques that had enabled Sol3a to prolong its life. They didn't need anything else.

Some of the astronomers, though, still took an interest in the derelict planet. From her seat on the observation platform of the 20 metre reflector Denyes Daforn called down to her colleague. "It's there, Anyara" she said, "but the cloud cover is as complete as ever. The temperature down there must be way off the scale."

"Uuh huh," Anyara called back, "can we swing the mirror back to where its supposed to be pointing, now? You know there's no clearance for in-system observations."

"OK, OK," Denyes responded, pressing the button set the motors twisting the mirror to its new position; training the telescope out into deep space.

"Hey, are we getting some supper tonight? I thought your womb-mother was supposed to be sending something up."

"Doubt it," said Denyes, "she's out with friends. The chances of anything coming from Ma's are a million to one."

Anyara looked up as a shooting star slipped across the heavens above them. She looked again. "Hang on," she said. "That can't be a shooting star." A second one followed it. "Denyes what was that?"

The two of them stared up as more bright lights slipped across the sky. One more, then two then four. Then a pause. Then more. Anyara flipped open her communicator and punched a few buttons. "Hi, Jenna, its me," she said. "Have you seen the light show. Yes, it's quite something. No, we don't know what's causing it either. Sure. Yes. Talk to you later. Bye."

She turned back to Denyes as more bright lights shot across the sky above them. "The whole bunch of them are watching it. They reckon it's the best light show since Shumacher-Levy went in back in '98. Everyone's out in the main plaza. Quite a party they're all watching …. Oh! Oh!"

Anyara's commentary was cut off as the sky above them erupted in a literally blinding flash of white light. "I can't see," she screamed, "Help me, Denyes, help me. I can't see."

"Anyara, I'm blinded too. The lights were so bright. Wait a while, the effects will wear off. Don't move you'll fall from the gantry."

Across each domed settlement on Sol5g the same scene was being played out. A cordon of magnesium flare bombs had detonated simultaneously a few hundred feet above the moon's surface producing a light of such intensity that all those watching, every single inhabitant of Sol5g, were rendered instantly sightless.

Denyes couldn't say how long she clung to the gantry of the telescope, hoping for her sight to return. She heard movement in the observatory below. "Is there anyone in here," she heard a guttural voice call out.

"Up here," she cried, "up here on the observation platform. "There's two of us."

"Yes, up here," Anyara joined in. "We can't see. The lights…"

"We know." The voice was much closer now and Anyara could hear the speaker moving closer to them.

Denyes called out, "Help us please."

"Here," the voice said, "reach out with your hand. Grip on to me and I will lead you out. Both of you."

Anyara reached out and grasped at her rescuer. She was surprised his hand was hard, seemingly armoured. "Oh," she thought to herself, "why don't they take their space suits off?" She spoke out, giving voice to her fears "Is there a problem with the dome?"

"Don't worry," came the reply, "the dome's all right. You'll be taken care of now."

Chapter 35

Evidence Record # 3044/a

This document forms a transcript of the Defendants Deposition in the matter of the Federation versus named insurgents and threats to off-world security.

This Deposition is certified accurate and was given by Dr Allison Mead in the presence of Captain Jarrin Tarn, #6659-909 of the Federation Intelligence Corps on board the Federation Ambassadorial Cruiser Thallaxapod, date 9980-009-0010//11 standard time 55:00:0.

(signed) Jarrin Tarn, Capt.

Question:

It is alleged that you conspired with two Sol5g insurgents, Kellie Failte and Shana Wilson plus three further inhabitants of Sol5g, the terrorists Crista, Nataya and Terril. Do you acknowledge your conspiracy?

Response:

The defendant concurred at the sixth putting of the question.

Question:

The insurgents Wilson and Failte were brought aboard as a result of an elaborate hoax involving a crashed skimmer. Their mission was to infiltrate his Excellency's office and cabin and to plan his assassination. Documents transmitted by yourself have been discovered in the wreckage of the skimmer. Do you confess that you had established contact with the two insurgents prior to their being brought aboard his Excellency's ship?

Response:

The defendant concurred at the sixth putting of the question.

Question:

After Failte and Wilson had seduced Commanders Kullux and Gnerrix, attempting to acquire intelligence about the operation of the ship, you met with them to plan your further operations under the pretence of providing medical care. Do you acknowledge that this meeting was with the specific purpose of preparing the overthrow of the legitimate command of his Excellency's ship?

Response:

The defendant concurred at the fourth putting of the question.

Question:

Failte and Wilson did not reveal their telepathic abilities. As a medical officer your duty was to reveal this to his Excellency but did not. Do you accept that this is prima facie evidence of conspiracy to conceal the means by which you expected to carry out your mission?

Response:

The defendant concurred at the third putting of the question.

Question:

The terrorists Crista, Nataya and Terril were recruited to assist in the rescue operation for the Sol3 women. It now appears from papers recovered by our intelligence staff that their engagement was as a result of your intervention with Excellency Gnarff to ensure that the remainder of your team would be brought together with Failte and Wilson. Do you agree?

Response:

The defendant concurred at the first putting of the question.

Question:

A video tape commandeered by the security services shows the debauched behaviour of the terrorists Crista and Nataya in the zero G conditions of the main drive bay. The sexual activities with the two Sol3 flight attendants are evidence of the lust which has driven this entire project for you – an attempt to destabilise the re-colonisation programme for the Sol3 women, replacing it with your own plan to create a community of sex slaves that you intended to traffic with the Aliansis. Do you admit this?

At this point the deposition was suspended to allow the defendant to regain consciousness. Interview concluded at standard time 55:25:0.

Captain Jarrin Tarn, #6659-909 of the Federation Intelligence Corps.

Chapter 36

Farrin Gnarff was waiting for the landing party to return from Sol5g. His freighter swung lazily in an eccentric orbit that brought them close to the moon at one point but pitched out far from it at perihelion so as to afford an easier escape from the clawing gravity of the giant world that the moon circled.

By his estimate there had been perhaps 300 women on Sol5g, the last remaining in the Sol system. Reports from the surface indicated that the operation to collect them was proceeding without difficulty. The sightless women had welcomed their rescuers, and had gone with them to the shuttles. It was only as the landing shuttles lifted off from the surface that the blinded victims began to become concerned over more than their inability to see.

By luck Anyara and Denyes had ended up on adjacent couches as the shuttle had taken off. Sol5g was tiny, the thrust needed to escape its gravity small, but even so the acceleration was evident to the women on board. "What is this, where are we going?" Anyara called out.

"Anyara, its me Denyes, here beside you," Denyes responded.

"Keep silent in the cabin," one of the landing party barked, clacking with a claw at his charges.

Horrific realisation came to Anyara. "Gnarriott," she hissed to her friend. "They're Gnarriotts. They weren't wearing space suits – that's just, just – how they are."

"Silence in the cabin," the voice barked again before another voice was heard over the cabin's public address system; Farrin Gnarrff.

"Welcome aboard, women of Sol5g," Gnarff began. "It is fortunate that our ship was at hand to come to your aid. The rain of flares that your colony suffered appears to have done permanent damage to your eyesight. Luckily we are able to provide help. We are on route to the newly established colony of Sol women on Forgwin 5 there we will arrange for you to be cared for properly. I am sure that you will appreciate that we do not have medics qualified in the Sol physiology, we will arrange for you to have proper rehabilitation as soon as we reach Forgwin 5. I should warn you, though, that all indications are that the loss of vision is, unfortunately, irreversible."

"Oh no," whimpered Anyara, "what is to become of us?" She lay on the couch sobbing, what use could there be could for a sightless astronomer?

The Gnarriott, however, knew what use they could be put to and what use could be made of the other Sol5g women, too. Over the next month the women of Sol5g were to learn of their future fate as Gnarff's freighter headed back towards the Forgwin system. Mostly they were left on their couches but from time to time one of Gnarff's crew would venture into the cabin and select one.

Clamping one claw across the woman's mouth to silence her, the Gnarriott would use his other claw to grasp her at the back of her neck and force her to her feet, so she could be dragged from the main cabin to one of the rooms surrounding it.

The claw across the mouth would stay in place until the Gnarriott had used its other claw to tear enough of the girl's clothing from her to stuff her mouth and tie her wrists. While none of the Gnarriott were likely to be disturbed by the cries of the women or their struggles the ritual bondage of sexual partners was a feature of the Gnarriott culture, springing from a time when the females of the species had larger claws than the males and the high pitched screaming sounds of sexual arousal produced by the females could fracture the exo-skeleton of under developed males.

With their chose partner bound and silenced, the struggling and whimpering only served to arouse the Gnarriott males further. Then the brutal, sexual assault would begin.

At the end, the girl would be returned to her couch, sometimes sobbing, often shocked into a catatonic silence, her clothing torn and barely covering her.

Standing Orders on the freighter insisted that none of the women should be killed. Gnarff was known to ruthlessly enforce discipline on the ship and so all the women survived their ordeals –at least physically. In any case as Gnarff said, they should learn what to expect in the Forgwin5c Colony – without sight they would need to work harder than others to earn their living.

Gnarff was looking out across the women's cabin as the ship closed in on the Forgwin system. The place looked a mess. The women were now chained to their couches – it was only by rationing access to the shackle keys that the officers had been able to keep the crew rota running. There was too much of a temptation for crew to slope off to the cabin whenever there was a quiet moment in their watch. Hardly any of the women had much in the way of clothes any more. In each of the surrounding cabins there was now a pile of tattered rags left from previous rapes; a Gnarriott would simply grab whatever he needed to restrain and silence his selected woman, leaving the rags when he was finished, dragging her back to be shackled into her seat. The place stank and the cabin echoed with the sobs of whichever women had been most recently violated. Gnarff gave the order that even the tattered remnants of skirts and blouses that some of the women clung to were to be removed. All shackle key issues were to be suspended, the women were to be hosed down and the cabin cleaned ready for arrival.

By the time that Gnarff's freighter was matching orbits with the Thallaxapod, the deck officer was able to report that all of the 317 Sol 5g women were now able to walk and were fit enough for transfer to the surface of the Forgwin colony world.

Gnarff wanted two of the women for his own use. Denyes Daforn and Anyara were taken from their couch and lead to Gnarff's cabin. The other 315, blind and naked women were made ready for The Colony.

Chapter 37

Allison Mead lay, helpless and barely conscious, naked, still strapped to the couch in the interrogation centre. The pain and the shock of her interrogation was only now beginning t subside, hours later. Slowly she became aware that Ambassador Taylor was there, she could hear his voice; talking to her interrogator. Perhaps, she thought there was some chance he would arrange her release. He had, after all, appeared to be attracted to her when they had first met. If she could only be free of the couch, she was sure that she could convince him that she should be freed. She strained to hear Taylor and Tarn talking but could barley focus on the sounds.

"Well, Captain, your interrogation proved successful. You seemed to get everything that the Court wanted." Taylor's voice was lowered.

"Yes, thank, you Ambassador," Mead heard Tarn reply. "Everything went as well as I could have expected. But surely the Ambassador is too busy to concern himself with the detail of the interrogation? Or perhaps as is suggested the Ambassador has a more than professional interest in the accused."

"Not at all. I believe that she thought she could use me as a way of avoiding the consequences of her actions," Mead gave a whimper and tried to struggle against the straps that held her, " but I don't think that she could have produced a sufficiently interesting offer to make the risks worthwhile. Besides, why should I worry about her – the legal system has taken its course."

"Well Sir, can I ask, then, why you are here?"

"Hmm, well, I thought Dr Mead here should hear the court's decision as quickly as possible but I am always ready to take time out when needed, especially when there is a chance to do it with my favourite intelligence officer."

Mead tried again to twist on the couch but the straps held her firm. Unable to see either Tarn or Taylor, she could only listen as their conversation went on.

"Ambassador, this is hardly the place. The interrogation suite is stuffed with microphones. Even if I thought they were all off I wouldn't choose this as somewhere for a senior dignitary in the diplomatic corps to make a pass at a junior officer."

"A pass, Captain? Surely my words would not be interpreted as a pass."

"Perhaps not, Sir," the tone of Tarn's voice seemed huskier. "but I think, Sir, uhhh, that the fact that you have your hand inside my shirt might be interpreted in that way." Mead heard her give a quiet grunt.

"Well, Captain, thank you for your advice. You will understand of course that I am only anxious to ensure that all uniform regulations are being observed and that what is inside your shirt is entirely – ahh - appropriate."

"Ohhh, yes Sir," Tarn gave a moan of pleasure, "Perhaps if the Ambassador finds everything to his approval, there might be an opportunity for a junior intelligence officer to join his staff."

"Ah – hmm – Captain, surely you realise that the ambassadorial; service requires more than a close attention to detail when it comes to uniform and an agreeably filled shirt."

"I understand completely, ahh, Sir. That's why I thought it would be useful if I demonstrated some other capabilities that could be of use to you. Like this for example." Mead heard the ripping sound of a clothes fastener.

"Very good, Tarn," she heard Taylor say. "I see your excellent attention to detail extends to that which you keep beneath your skirt."

"And this Mr Ambassador," another ripping sound, was followed by a grunt from Taylor.

"Ahh, very – uhhh , good, Tarn. Yes, I think you should stay there for a moment or two, please don't get up yet – uhhh – ahh – If this is an indication of your – ah – skills then I - uhh – think I could find a role for you on my team. That's a very – ahh - useful talent you have there, I could see how – nngh – mmm - it would be valuable to have you around."

Mead felt despair spill over her. She struggled again to turn towards the pair as Tarn stood up and approached her couch, fastening her blouse and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Ah, Dr Mead, I see you have recovered consciousness."

Mead whimpered in protest. Taylor stood beside her couch. He reached down with one hand and stroked her naked breast. "It's a great shame that things should have come to this Doctor." His hand reached up to the pure white stubble that was growing slowly from her shaved scalp. "Albino's are such a rarity. It could have been fun."

Mead watched as Tarn's hand snaked around Taylor's waist and then slid up across his chest.

"No matter;" Taylor continued, "the decision of the Courts has been that you have been found guilty of the crimes of which you were accused. Your own evidence was most convincing. The sentence of the Court is the most lenient that it can pass in the light of the nature of the charges. Because the death penalty has been abolished throughout the Federation, you will be subject to an indefinite community service order. This order will be operated under the Waring Procedure[b](1)[/b], which will prevent your being a further danger, allow you to pay your debt to society and avoid the Federation or its allies having to bear the costs of your detention."

Mead was now terrified, struggling violently against her bonds. As an anthropologist she had read accounts of Waring's early work, in what he called "soft cybernetics", and she knew just what the procedure implied.

"You are to be informed that the court takes account of your co-operation. The court was pleased that you provided the evidence sufficient to enable the passing of similar sentences on your collaborators. The court records will show that, in spite of your crimes, you did cooperate. That is all." He turned to Captain Tarn who, by this stage, was exploring Taylor's ear with her tongue. "Arrange for Mead to be transferred to the Medi Centre fot the appropriate procedures as soon as possible, Captain," he said. "And then you should report to my quarters for an interview. That is if you are still interested in coming on to my staff."

(1) The Waring Procedure is a technique based on the original work of Dr Stuart Waring in the early 21 ^st Century. Waring discovered a surgical and neuro-electrical process whereby induced synethesia could be used to provide a robotic response in those subjected to it. See an account of its origins in "Numerology".

Chapter 38

Gnarff's freighter had docked with Thallaxapod in orbit above Forgwin5C. In the massive council hall of the Thallaxapod, Ambassador Taylor was holding a reception for the returning Gnarriotts.

Taylor in full ambassadorial regalia and his wife, Debranna, in an exquisite evening gown, were greeting the guests as they arrived in the hall. Troopers Genes and Harins,formed the honour guard. Pulled back from a recreation break in The Colony, neither was delighted to be sweating in their tight collared ceremonial uniforms. Standing stiffly to attention was not an attractive alternative to enjoying the wholly different stiffness that had been a feature of their trip to The Colony, although there was plenty of cleavage on view as some of the wives of Federation officers arrived.

On a dais to one side of the hall a group of whites from the colony, clad in an approximation of the dress of the 5 ^th Centium pre-current era Greeks from Sol3a were performing a tableau entitled Sappho's Muse. Taylor, who had studied classics, could hardly approve the interpretation, though he did appreciate the gymnastic endeavours of those involved. His wife regarded the girls' antics apparently impassively but with more than a passing interest in one rather pneumatically endowed girl with short dark hair.

She reserved the same impassive eye for what she took to be her husband's latest infatuation, Captain – now Commander – Jarrin Tarn recently promoted and moved from the Intelligence Corps for attachment, Debranna laughed at the term, to the Diplomatic Service.

Tarn, in a freshly tailored Commander's uniform adapted to make the most of her figure, was the hub of a small cluster of junior officers, all keen to gain some small influence from her improved position.

Gnarff had caused something of a stir by his entrance. For most of the Federation delegation, the status of the women in The Colony was very much a case of out of sight out of mind, except as and when shore leave took them to enjoy The Colony's delights. However, Gnarff had no compunction about showing his attitude towards the Sol system women, even gaining some amusement from confronting the sensibilities of his newly found allies by a display that was intended to confirm his intention to ensure that they remained a cowed species.

As he entered, following him on all fours were two of the Sol5G women, Denyes and Anyara. They were naked apart from the collars that they wore about their necks. From each collar a leash stretched out to one of Gnarff's claws. Covering their sightless, burned eyes, each wore mirror bright contact plates which gave them a mechanical, sinister look that contrasted with their pet like subservience. As he stopped on one side of the room, the two women scuttled closer to him, clutching at his legs until a waved claw brushed them back to sit with heads bowed in silence.

The Sol 3 and Sol 5 women convicted as conspirators for their roles in the "insurrection" had recovered from their Waring Procedure operations. The transponder insertions had been followed by the initial loading procedures that enabled their use as soft robots. Taylor had insisted that they should serve at the reception. Without being fully programmed they could only take on simple tasks as yet. They all wore identical, featureless grey uniform dresses and blank, un-sensing, expressions. All had identical connector ports in the nape of their necks clearly visible as their heads had been shaved during the surgical implantation procedures.

Kelli Failte and Shana Wilson, the two skimmer flyers, were acting as bearers for the train of Debranna's dress, following her as she progressed around the hall. Their movements were still stiff from the use of simple coding in their early programming but they could already follow the simple instructions that Debranna would give by the flick of her fingers. Debranna had tried to use the two of them to help her get ready but their programming didn't yet support those tasks. In temper, Debranna had thrashed the two of them. Her husband had explained that it would have no effect - without the coding implants the girls were unable to act - but it had made her feel better if nothing else. Kelli and Shana stared blankly ahead of themselves. Somewhere deep in their minds there was still a shadow of a memory of their earlier lives. For Shana there was till the trace of the guilt she felt about crashing the skimmer, Kelli still took comfort from the closeness they had felt in the cells and she still thought that she heard Shana sometimes, her thoughts blending with the colours, the colours that told her what she had to do.

Crista, Nataya and Terril, the Sol5g mercenaries, were carrying trays of drinks, following a predetermined course through the room, over and over again. After each circuit their course took them back to the bar where the empty glasses on their trays were exchanged for full ones before they were sent on their way again. The guests gave them scarcely a glance as they picked a glass from their trays or placed an empty one back on them. They of course made no response to the guests other than to pause in their course if their route was obstructed; their programming at least allowed for that.

Allison Mead, once Gnarff's chief anthropologist, now identified as Cybernetic Unit #7069-3, was also following her own pre-determined route around the hall. She carried in her hands a silver tray. Piled upon it was a pyramid of gold wrapped, chocolate globes. Every so often one of the guests would make to take one and then think better of it as they viewed the prospect of the entire elaborate pile tumbling to the floor.

The Sapphic tableau was approaching a conclusion. Taylor fond himself standing alongside Farrin Gnarff as two of the girls achieved a noisy and acrobatic climax as a result of the actions of their partners.

The Gnarriott clacked a claw in approval at the performance of the girls. "Why, Ambassador," he remarked gruffly, gesturing towards the tableau, "you're spoiling us!"

Taylor smiled in response. Farrin Gnarff looked down at the six chocolate balls that he had succeeded in plucking from Mead's tray and absent-mindedly arranged on the table beside him. "Hmmph," he thought, "the Alliansis system!" Permitting himself a grunt of satisfaction he picked up one.

"Alliansis IV – the home world?" asked Taylor who was peering over his shoulder. Gnarff grunted, crushed the ball between his pincer and tossed it aside.

Gnarff looked down at the crushed ball. "No women, regrettably" he said, waving a claw at the two the still sat submissively beside him "but I suppose we still have to do something about it."

Taylor nodded in agreement.

THE END