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[Prologue]

Sylvester Drake felt at ease as he watched the sun disappear behind the Flintrock Mountains. It's been 24 years since Sylvester (know to the rest of the world as Samuel Bannon) was freed from the curse that made him the immortal supercriminal known as Mr Big. With devote gratefulness, Sylvester treated each new day as a gift, all the more glad he shared those days with his savior - Felicity Wilcox.
    Sylvester thought himself unworthy of Felicity's love, but that woman proved him wrong at every opportunity. It was through Felly's love that Sylvester was saved and kept alive. But not for long. Old age and the ravages of his former indulgent lifestyle have gained the irrevocable advantage. The last three years saw a steady decline in Sylvester's health. While his strength and breath deserted him Sylvester still had his stubborn will. He took only the most basic of medicines to fortify his health; he knew death had only to wait one afternoon to take him in his sleep.
    Felicity stepped onto the deck of her mountain cabin, taking in a lungful of air. Refreshed, she saw her love gazing at the sunset, the sky in shades of deep purple and blue. Pulling up a chair, Felicity sat next to Sylvester, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Evening, love. Enjoying the sunset, are we?"
    "I certainly am," replied Sylvester. "Reminds me of the eruption of Mt St Helens back in 2175. The sunsets for three months afterwards were downright pretty," he said as he planted a kiss on Felly's hand, "especially with the companionship I had back then!"
    "You big silly." Felicity placed her hand on Sylvester's. "It doesn't take much for you to remember your past, doesn't it?"
    Sylvester grinned. "You can say that again. Why, just yesterday, while doing the laundry, I recalled my infamous panty caper. Seeing Lyn's expression of surprise was worth it."
    "Even at the expense of getting kneed in the groin?" Felly teased.
    "You had to mention that. That caper was 25 years ago and I can still feel it! I bet you taught her to kick like a mule!" Sylvester said, placing a hand over his crotch. "Speaking of mules, it's time for the daily financials on the Sperry Network. Turn on the tri-dee. Pretty please?"
    Felicity sighed. "You and your tri-dee. You're just as bad as my great grandchildren!" Resigned, Felly entered some commands on her wrist minicomp. A tri-dee imager built into the deck railing came to life.
    The financial news program was hosted by a steadily thickening man with gray sideburns and a double chin. Using old-fashion paper sheets, the newsie removed the top sheet and read the next entry. "And now some news of the strange sort. The Perchet Asteroid Resort was raided by pirates last Monday. The pirates only took personal effects such as diamonds and gold jewelry - and a section of the asteroid itself. The Perchet Asteroid served as a hideout of the infamous Mr Big, and many believed the long-dead supercriminal had a treasure hidden somewhere in the rock. The stolen section was located at the far end of the asteroid, and the owners reassured the public that the resort will be open for business by next week." The newsie allowed himself a cheesy grin. "Let's hope those pirates only found a long-lost cache of 20th century toilet paper instead of countless millions in gems," the newsie said, removing the sheet. "After the break we'll cover the projected asteroid mining revenues for the third quarter."
    "Pirates and toilet paper. What a combination!" Felly giggled. She stopped when she saw Sylvester's clenched face. "Honey, what's wrong?"
    "Perchet. That man did say Perchet?" Sylvester's query was answered by Felly's nodding head. "I did indeed had a secret lair at the Perchet resort. If the pirates have plundered my former lair... dear God..."
    "What? What is it?" Felly said. "Was it something you did when you were Mr Big?"
    "As sure as bears crap in the woods!" The little man looked tense for the first time in over 20 years. "Felly, I just remembered; I kept a safe in that lair, containing my most prized possession."
    "The secret to restore natural hair to balding men?" Felly said in a tease.
    "It's no joke, Felly. When I was Mr Big, I've always thought of the long term. Before I kidnaped you all those years ago, I made a stop at my Perchet lair. In my safe I placed a complete blueprint of the breast-enlargement beam."
    "But it's your safe, Sylvester. I doubt if anyone can open it without destroying the contents in the process, knowing your love of traps and alarms," Felly said with certainty.
    "I really, really doubt that. Some of my former BCCI (Big Crime Cabal Incorporated) buddies knew of my safe, but not the exact location. And I entrusted the combination to one of them," said Sylvester, his voice filled with conviction. "That's the only reason why the pirates removed that asteroid section: my former, but still fanatical, followers wanted the only blueprints of the breast-enlargement beam for themselves. If they can successfully replicate the projector..."
    "Then they'll have the means of succeeding where you've failed," Felly shuddered. "Dear God! How easy is it to build the thing?"
    "Quite easy," Sylvester said. "All the required information is on that blueprint. With today's technology, God in Heaven, and the right set-up, the beam projector can be made into handgun size with little effort. The Dobbers (Disciples of Big) have to be stopped." Sylvester stood up too fast and collapsed in pain. Felly tended to her stricken man, easing him onto his back.
    "Felly, I have something very important to say," Sylvester said after regaining his breath. "Get that gizmo of yours set to record. I'm afraid this might be the only chance I'll have to say it."
 

1

Government House, New Darwin. Governor Kazlow wasn't alone in his private study. Keeping him company were Harold Walkins, head of the Marshal's Office on Outback, and Commander Paulette Eickhoff, captain of the Stroud. Kazlow leaned back in his chair, resting interlaced fingers on his pronounced belly. "It seems we have quite a pickle on our hands. If the Dobbers have indeed gotten their hands on those blueprints, then we can expect them to work day-and-night to replicate the breast beam."
    "If it wasn't for there fanaticism, the Dobbers would be nothing more than criminal wannabes," Walkins said. "Since the Dobbers had pirates go fetch that safe, then they have to be in league with them."
    Eickhoff nodded. "I concur. Pirates aren't stupid, despite what the media wants everyone to believe. They won't risk one of their best ships unless there was a big payoff. A beam that'll give women enormous boobs instantly is an irresistible incentive."
    "The bugger is in the details. Where will the Dobbers do the replicating work?" Kazlow's brow kneaded in thought. "A partnership with pirates is dictated to their terms. That will mean the use of pirate facilities. But pirate bases are not known for their longevity, thanks to the diligent work of the Navy, especially the Stroud.
    "Thank you for the compliment, Governor," Eickhoff said, "I'll pass that on to my crew. I've read the files provided by the NDPD and Alberto. If the Dobbers are going to use the same set-up, they'll need the proper facilities for it. No asteroid base can fit the bill - they'll need something more durable."
    Walkins rubbed his chin, coaxing his thoughts to come out as words. "I've spoken to Alberto. With his knowledge of pirates and their facilities he agrees there's only one place."
    Kazlow made an incredulous look. "The mythical Pirate Planet? That's a story that parents tell their little children at night to make them behave. I doubt that such a planet exists."
    "Don't dismiss it so soon, Governor," Eickhoff said firmly. "For over three hundred years the Space Navy has fought pirates. But somehow they manage to escape that final blow that would've finished them forever. We've always wondered why pirates never fully developed their bases. Perhaps it was with the knowledge that there's a hidden stronghold for them to go to and regain their strength."
    "True, Commander. Considering how well patrolled Commonwealth space is, the planet has to very far away, or hiding in plain sight," Kazlow added. He turned his attention to Walkins. "I don't suppose Alberto knows the location of this planet?"
    Walkins nodded. "He does, and he has told the Space Navy years ago. The top navy brass didn't believe him then, and for good reason. But with all the new gadgets the Stroud has now, I can say that the Pirate Planet's days are numbered."

"David, you just got here! Can't the navy pick another ship for this assignment?" Sharron's face was full of protest.
    "It's not just me, Sharron; everyone else has been called back too. Duty can't be ignored." David made another unnecessary check of his duffel bag. The 23 year-old son of Bert and Amber Carson has been a proud ensign in the Commonwealth Space Navy for over a year. The ship David's assigned to, the Stroud, had only been in orbit for two days when it received new orders. It could've been a random exercise, or a spontaneous anti-piracy operation; in any case the ship was needed and so was David.
    Sharron, David's 15 year-old kid sister, pouted with the best of them. "It's unfair! We were going to the Sea of Derby tomorrow. This is the first time we've seen you since graduation."
    Amber, David's mother, walked into the living room. For a woman who was 57 Amber didn't look a day older than 25, all thanks to the miracle of prolong. "Sharron, you just have to understand that navy service means being away from home much of the time. The only way to keep the pirates at bay is through the effort and sacrifice of navy people just like David."
    David placed a huge palm on Sharron's tiny shoulder. "Don't you worry, sis. After all, Outback is the Stroud's home port. I bet we'll be gone only a month; when we come back they'll be plenty of time for that Sea of Derby trip."
    "Double-dare swear with ice cream on top?" Sharron teased.
    David lifted up his 150cm-tall sister and gave her a crushing bearhug. "Double-dare swear with chocolate ice cream on top! I promise to bring you the head of the pirate king himself as a gift."
    "Yuck! You can keep it!" Sharron giggled as David placed her down. Turning, David saw his 10 year-old sister Angela and 13 year-old twin brothers Oscar and George join the gathering. He gave them goodbye hugs in turn, leaving his father Bert and mother Amber for last.
    Amber coaxed her 193cm-tall David to get down on one knee. She kissed him on the cheek and patted his back. "You just be careful, David."
    "And if you can't be careful, then name him after me," Bert said, earning him a glare from Amber.
    "Bert! Retired football jocks and sailors all think of the same thing: bed bingo!" Amber wore a playfully stern look on her face. "David, if you want to make me happy, marry a princess."
    David gave his mother a gentle hug. "There's no princesses in the 25th century. Would you settle for a simple farm girl with all her teeth?"
    "David, you're truly your father's son," Amber chided.
    Bert gave his son a firm handshake. "Come home soon, son."
    "I'll try, dad," David said as he hefted his duffel bag to his shoulder. He left in a taxi, his family waving him goodbye from the front lawn.
 

2

"All stations manned and ready, Captain," Lt Commander Hillary Weylan reported. "We have clearance from Traffic Control to leave orbit."
    "Thank you, Mister Weylan. Helm, lay in a course for the hyper limit. Speed: .09c," ordered Captain Eickhoff.
    "Course laid in, Captain," the helmsman said.
    "Take us out, Mr Phad. Once clear of the hyper limit, set in a course for Novaya Rodina and engage the hyperdrive," said Eickhoff, her gaze fixed on the main view panel.
    "Aye-Aye, Sir," the helmsman said, carrying out his orders. The Stroud eased out of her parking orbit, gaining speed quickly. Moments later she passed Outback's moon, New Ayers Rock. It took the ship 27 hours to reach the hyper threshold; more than enough time for the crew to engage in idle talk about the sudden change in orders.

"What could be so important that the Brass had to call on us?" questioned Ensign Monica Leutze, her dark eyes trying to divine the winning move on the chessboard before her. "It's not like we're the only ones specialized in pirate hunting."
    Ensign Nate Babcock also plotted his next move on the chessboard. He gently tapping the knight in his right hand on the table surface. "Our reputation precedes us. All we have to do is look at a pirate ship and it'll explode."
    The players had an audience of one. Ensign David Carson posed as Ronin's Thinker, his green eyes fixed on the game pieces. "An unscheduled fleet exercise is my guess. Since this ship had a whole bunch of goodies installed four months ago, the Brass wants to test us in maneuvers."
    Monica moved her knight, knocking out Nate's remaining rook. "Or it could be a new anti-pirate offensive. They'll just use us to smoke them out. Check," she said, her grin matched by Nate's scowl. "Do you concede?"
    "An officer knows when a fight is lost, and this isn't it," Nate countered as he moved a bishop, taking out the threatening knight. "Being an engineer is the best position to get the gossip. We're fully loaded. We could be on station, wherever that may be, for up to 14 months."
    "14 months of floating silent in space is not what I signed up for," Monica said while pondering a move. She selected her queen, taking out the bishop and placing herself within striking distance of Nate's king. "Again, do you concede?"
    "The fight is over yet, Monica. In addition to knowing when to fight and when not to fight, an officer must use everything at his disposal to ensure victory." Nate picked up a pawn, a pawn that Monica careless forgot about when she took out the bishop. "Under the right circumstances, even a pawn can win the day. Checkmate." Nate's pawn tipped over Monica's undefended king.

Three days and 12 light-years later the Stroud entered the Novaya Rodina system. Instead of heading for the planet, the navy cruiser rendezvoused with a freighter. The grapevine worked overtime as the ship took on a bevy of stealthed reconnaissance drones and satellites. Two dozen of the advanced drones were attached to the hull, making them appear as metallic remoras latched onto an equally artificial shark. The Stroud left promptly. Captain Eickhoff assembled her staff in the briefing room to inform them of the ship's true assignment.
    Eickhoff activated the main view panel. She held in her hand a well-worn light wand. Like everyone else on board, Eickhoff had wetware, but she liked to use the light wand to emphasize her message. A flat representation of a space map was displayed on the panel; Eickhoff circled an area on the panel with the wand. "This, everyone, is our destination. A cloud of fine dust and gas some 5 light-years in diameter. Commonly referred to as the Ink Spot, no ship has been able to transverse it in normal space due to the density of the dust. While ships have been able to hyper through the cloud, no ship as been able to hyper into the cloud due to gravitational chaos. The Ink Spot has been so well studied that the scientists no longer come here; the Ink Spot 'is just another mystery that'll have to be solved at a later date'. But," Eickhoff said with confidence, "we have the job of solving that mystery once and for all."
    Commander Weylan asked the obvious question for everyone's benefit. "Captain, considering all the stealth drones and satellites we're carrying, this has to be something more than a simple investigation of a gas cloud."
    "How right you are, Mister Weylan," Eickhoff said. "I have received from the best authority that the Ink Spot is indeed home of the fabled Pirate Planet." The Captain's audience looked incredulous. "Had we been given this assignment five years ago, then it would've been a joke. However, with the advances in gravitic detection, we now have the opportunity to put that fable to rest once and for all. If there is indeed a 'Northwest Passage' to the interior of the Ink Spot, we'll find it. With twenty other ships also assigned to this mission, and the satellites they're carrying, we'll have a coverage envelope so complete that not even a rat can get past us."
    The staff chuckled. Smiling herself, Eickhoff sat down, her 'ware ordering the flat panels in front of her officers to activate. "Now that the preliminaries are done with, it's time to work out the specifics. In regards to the satellite deployment..."
 

3

"Go ahead and scream your pretty head off, my bonny lass. Your precious Nathan won't save you now!" Captain Jack Slash, pirate without peer and curse of the Spanish Main, said to his ravishing captive, the good lady Daisy Longborn.
    Polly, Slash's obligatory parrot, bobbed its head in agreement. "Go ahead and scream," squawked Polly, "Nathan won't save you (squawk)!"
    "My Nathan will rescue me!" said Daisy, her heaving bosom threatening to bust out of her bodice. "You and your crew will burn in the blackest pit of Hell come tonight. On this I swear!"
    "No, dear," Captain Slash said, placing a massive palm on one of Daisy's equally massive breasts, "on this I'll swear! Porter! Break out the rum and serve the crew! We'll have merriment come the dawn!" With his crew cheering him on, Slash ripped the top of Daisy's bodice, exposing an ocean of cleavage.
    "Get your godforsaken hand off that lady, you miserable sea dog!" In confusion Slash, along with his right-hand man Porter and the rest of the pirate crew, looked around to find the source of that command. A bought of laughter drew the pirates' gaze up towards the rigging. Daisy produced a tear when she saw it was her precious Nathan.
    "Nathan Pipecleaner!" Slash exclaimed. "How did you escape the Dungeon of Death?"
    "It's amazing what one can do with a lady's hairpin," Nathan replied, drawing out his sword. "It's even more amazing what one man will do to save his love."
    "Oh, Nathan," Daisy swooned.
    "Young fool," Slash hissed, drawing out his own sword, "your love has only hasten your death. Maties, kill Nathan Pipecleaner!"
    The pirate crew produced guns, knives, and swords. Nathan only grinned as he jumped down into their midst. The ensuing battle was appropriately bloody, fast, and one-sided. There were no less than five double-impalements and three lopped-off heads. For his last bit Nathan severed a pirate's arm. With the shocked man looking on, Nathan used the gun in the severed arm's hand to shoot the profusely-bleeding man. Nathan threw away the arm and looked hatefully at Captain Slash. The pirate roughly handed Daisy to Porter. "So, the young Nathan has become a great swordsman. But your foolish luck has run out. Prepare to taste my sword!"
    "Taste your sword? Without having it cleaned? Disgusting!" Nathan leapt onto the poop deck. With bravado, Slash accepted the challenge, his faithful Polly staying on his shoulder. "Prepare to taste (squawk)!" taunted Polly.
    The battle was joined. Daisy looked on with hope while her Nathan battled the scourge of the seas. It was going in Nathan's favor until Polly Parrot flew from Slash's shoulder, distracting the young lad. Slash took the opportunity to lunge at Nathan, stabbing him in the shoulder. "Oh, Nathan!" Daisy wept.
    Nathan fell to the deck, clutching his wound. Slash stood over him, preparing to deliver the death blow. "I give you credit for this, lad," the foul pirate said, "I've never battled a swordsman like you before. Years from now, when I'm counting coins and taking liberty with your Daisy, I shall think fondly about this day."
    Daisy gasped. Part of it was her conviction that she would rather die than live with Slash. The other was the sensation of Porter cupping and squeezing her immense front. Like any lady brought up in a proper home, Daisy defended her honor. She brought her heel upon Porter's foot, making the lecherous man let go. Turning, Daisy nutted Porter in the face and pushed him over the railing. Porter would've gotten back on board, but the slew of sharks that always followed The Vile Body ate him in short order.
    "Porter!" Slash yelled. Nathan took advantage of Slash's distraction, leaping up and cutting off the pirate's beard in a quick move. The pirate touched the stump of his once-mighty beard. "You bloody bastard! Took me a year to grow a beard to my liking!" Slash resumed his attack, but every blow was replied with vigor by Nathan.
    "Are you related to Sampson?" Nathan said wickedly. "Has the loss of your foul facial growth made you weaker?" Nathan was relentless, pushing Slash back and back. Then, in a mighty rush, Nathan lunged at Slash. The Pirate King went over the railing, but held on with dear life with his good hand. Nathan remedied that, chopping off the hand at the wrist.
    Slash didn't allow the loss of his hand to slow him, bringing his hook of a right hand up, embedding it into the railing. "Please, lad, don't kill me," Slash pleaded. "I can make you rich, rich I tell you! I'll show you the greatest treasure of all!"
    Nathan was unimpressed. He lopped off Slash's hook of a hand. The Pirate King fell to his death, the sharks still hungry after finishing off Porter. "Sorry, I have the greatest treasure any man could ever want," Nathan said while the sharks torn into the screaming form of Slash.
    "Oh, Nathan!" swooned Daisy. Her bodice ripped even more as she ran over and hugged the stuffing out of her hero. The lovers kissed, but Nathan winced in pain as Daisy planted her hand on her love's wounded shoulder. "Here, let me tend to your wound," said Daisy, ripping off strips of her now-useless bodice to make a bandage for Nathan's wound.
    Nathan kissed Daisy on the forehead. "I've destroyed the Pirate King and his foul crew. Gold and treasure won't be reward enough for saving your sweet skin. My I be so bold as to ask your hand in marriage?"
    Daisy smiled softly, pulling Nathan's head to her bosom. "You forgotten one thing, my love. There's one creature that had the Devil's luck of seeing my unclothed body. And even now it's glaring at my scarcely-covered bosom."
    Nathan reluctantly removed himself from the warmth of Daisy's breasts, seeing that the foul creature was none other than Polly Parrot. The brightly-colored bird was rather upset over the death of his master. "You killed Slash, you bastard!" Polly squawked.
    Nonchalantly, Nathan produced a pistol and shot the bird dead. Polly fell overboard, and a shark leapt up and gobbled the deceased bird before it could hit the water. "What a nasty piece of work that bird was. Let's tidy up this ship. A lady of your delicate beauty and grace should not endure such wretched conditions."
    "Oh, Nathan!" Daisy swooned yet again, kissing Nathan on the lips.

David sighed and turned off the holonovel. It was the fourth time he read Ocean Love, a romantic VR novel he received as a birthday gift from his mother. Guiltily, he admitted to himself that he liked playing the part of Nathan Pipecleaner, a handsome and brave young man set on rescuing his love from the clutches of vile pirates. David knew that women in the 17th century weren't all that buxom, but in many ways he expected no less. Having been raised in a home where his mother and her friends were quite endowed, David accepted the fact that some women were just big-chested.
    Thinking of chests, David also admitted to himself that he liked the curves on one Ensign Monica Leutze. Like any organization, the CSN had to adapt to the every-changing society it served. In response to the increasing buxomness of the population, the Navy changed the maximum cup size female crewmembers could have from C to E. With some lust, David agreed that Monica's E-cup top was perfect for her 160cm frame. If he wanted, David could start a relationship with Monica; she wasn't in his chain of command and both were of the same rank. But the young man knew his lust was firmly seated in his loins, not his heart. If anything, the woman he wanted to marry should be tall enough rest her head on his shoulders!

Monica sighed. It was the fourth time she read Bountiful Blue, a holographic VR romance novel given as a birthday gift from her father. The heroine of the story was a quite-endowed police officer on a quest to rescue her fiance from a gang of kidnapers. Monica knew there were quite a few ultra-buxom women in the 20th century, but she doubted any police department back then would allow an officer with considerable 'displacement' to serve on the streets.
    Guiltily, Monica admitted to herself that she like the story. A tiny woman, hazarding the world with an enormous chest, bent on saving the man she loved was a fantasy that Monica wanted to play out in real life. Technically, she could get a larger chest. Navy regulations still allowed female crewmembers of the Stroud to go above the E-cup maximum. But the original Stroud females were a special case, and the women in the ship's crew now were quite satisfied with their tops, whether natural or nanite-augmented.
    Monica then thought of David Carson. Being his friend, Monica  knew about David's family and upbringing. She reasoned that since her tall friend was raised in an environment filled with ample women, David would like his companionship to be similarly equipped. As it stands, Monica was smaller, chest-wise, than David's mother. And all boys were told to marry girls that were bigger than their mothers. Well, Monica thought, if me and David really get something going, then I'll just have to grow the proverbial basketballs on my chest. David's mom will love that for sure!

Coming off shift, Ensign Nate Babcock eagerly entered his cabin and flopped down on his bunk. While massaging his face, Nate accessed his 'ware and brought up the holonovel he was currently reading. Sands of the Sultan was a tale of high adventure. The hero was the Captain of the Sultan's personal guard, sent on a quest to recover the harem from the wicked Vizier and his unwashed henchmen. If Nate remembered correctly, he's at the point where the hero must resist temptation as he escorts the harem back to the Sultan. It takes a disciplined mind to ward off the sincere expressions of gratitude from 14 scantily-clad, top heavy harem lovelies. Nate often wished he was surrounded by a crowd of buxom beauties. Holonovels are fine, but nothing can replace the real thing!
 

4

25 days and 100 light-years later the Stroud exited hyperspace. In coordination with the task force flagship, the Stroud deployed its surveillance satellites with care to its assigned section of the Ink Spot. Advanced gravitic sensors went on-line; if there' a way into the center of the dust cloud, the Navy's determined to find it.
    The wait wasn't long. Ten days later a freighter, a rather large one at that, exited hyperspace. One of the Stroud's satellites detected the ship and dutifully transmitted a tight-beam hyperwave signal to the flagship. Coordinates confirmed, the Stroud was sent to investigate. The freighter was scarcely in normal space for 5 minutes when it jumped again - this time right towards the Ink Spot. The closest satellite did pick up some interesting gravitic readings. Two hours of studying the data gave Captain Eickhoff the answer she needed. Her staff gathered in the briefing room to hear the news.
    As before, Eickhoff used her light wand, but now she employed the tri-dee projector instead of the flat view panel. A 3D model of the Ink Spot was displayed, rotating slowly on its axis. "Thanks to the fancy numbers crunchers on the Juarez, we have a tentative location of the Northwest Passage," said Eickhoff, highlighting a spot on the model. "But it was our own sensor staff that pointed the Juarez people in the right direction. Lt Basil, give my complements to your people."
    "I will, Captain," Lt Basil replied with thankfulness.
    Eickhoff enhanced the highlighted section of the model. "As providence would have it, Commodore Forsythe has ordered us to investigate the far side of the Passage. If there are defenses on the far side, we're to determine their location and strength."
    "Alone?" Lt Mills, the tactical officer, said outspokenly. "What if there's a whole bunch of fortresses waiting for us on the far side? The mouth of the hyper passage is 3 million kilometers wide. Since all points in normal space have a corresponding point in hyper, our exit point could be easily defended by ships, forts, and minefields."
    "A distinct possibility, Mr Mills, but unlikely." Eickhoff said with finality. "The pirates value secrecy above all else. That's why they rarely fortify their bases - they never expect to be discovered. And with the firepower the Space Navy can muster it makes sense not to waste credits on defenses that'll be destroyed anyway. I believe this will hold true for the Ink Spot. There could very well be defenses, but not those that can stop an assault fleet. Questions?"
    Commander Weylan was the only one with a question. "Captain, what of the freighter we spotted earlier? Any information on it?"
    "We certainly do, Mr Weylan," said Eickhoff formally. "Considering its mass and drive field frequency, that freighter had to be the Alpine Star. Five weeks ago we've received a report that the Alpine Star answered a distress signal from a crippled ship. In reality, it was a pirate ship. The Alpine Star was on its way to the Clearwater colony, transporting supplies and 500 colonists." The Captain allowed her officers to think a moment about what she said, though they already knew the answer. "The 200 male colonists are surely dead, but we can still save the remainder and put those pirates to rights. Once the far side is clear, the rest of the task force will follow. Whether it be an asteroid or a world, the Pirate Planet has seen its last days. Attention!" The officers in the briefing room stood up. "This ship will enter the Northwest Passage in ten minutes. I don't know how many hours we'll be in hyper, but I expect everyone to be on their toes when we exit. Dismissed."

David fidgeted at his duty station in Communication 2. The Stroud's been in hyper for over 12 hours. Considering that the Ink Spot was only 5 light-years across, the hyper tunnel had to come to an end soon, otherwise in 18 more hours the ship will be on the far side of the gas cloud. To date, David's been in two actions against pirates, and both times the pirates had been destroyed in short order. But now the Stroud could very well be walking into the literal den of vipers. As good as the gunnery the Stroud boasted, she could find herself outgunned this time. The young ensign shook off such unproductive thoughts and concentrated on his work. It was then the battle stations klaxon went off.

"Captain, we've cleared the Passage. Gravitic sensors are reporting the same conditions one would find in any other star system," Lt Basil, the sensor officer, reported.
    "Thank you, Mr Basil," Captain Eickhoff replied. She then turned to her helmsman. "Mr Phad, take us out of hyper and engage the cloaking device. Set speed for .04c."
    "Aye-Aye, Captain."
    The Stroud eased out of hyper. Eickhoff looked at one of her tactical repeaters. The scientists had predicted at least three solar masses somewhere inside the Ink Spot. The gravitic sensors found those stars: a G0 star shared the limited amount of clear space with two K1 companions. The twin orange stars were a quarter light-year distant from their yellow friend, cavorting about their common center of gravity. With that arrangement, extensive asteroid belts are a sure bet. Planets were still possible, but...
    "Proximity Alert! Two Piranha-class corvettes have decloaked and are closing in rapidly from astern," Mr Basil reported. "Range - 3 million kilometers."
    "They detected us leaving hyper," observed Weylan. "They must've gotten a firm fix before our cloaking field stabilized. Shall we engage?"
    Eickhoff shook her head briskly. "No. A Piranha can't match our speed in normal space. Mr Phad, increase speed to max - .128c - and start evasive maneuvers. Comm, prepare a hyper drone for immediate launch."
    "Aye, Captain," the comm officer said.
    Mr Basil doubled-checked his readings, making sure of his facts before reporting to the Captain. "Sir, the Piranhas have increased speed to .135c - and six more corvettes have decloaked ahead of us. Range - 2 million kilometers."
    "Eight Piranhas? That changes everything. Red Alert, all hands to battle stations," said Eickhoff, double-checking her vac suit's helmet. "Mr Phad, disengage the cloak and reroute power to the shields."
    "Aye, Sir," replied the laconic helmsman.
    "Mr Mills, set the particle cannons to normal and prep the antimatter warheads. You may open fire when you get your fire-control solutions."
    "Aye-Aye, Captain," responded the tactical officer. In any other navy, a corvette, even eight of them, were not much of a threat to a ship like the Stroud. Armed with 12 particle cannons and 20 missile tubes, the Stroud could handle the corvettes with ease. But a Piranha wasn't a normal ship. A purpose-built design, a Piranha-class corvette boasted only a single offensive weapon - a spine-mounted cruiser grade particle cannon. Used like an oversized fighter, a Piranha could run circles around much larger ships and fire its main gun at close range, often in an overcharged state. Like its namesake, a horde of Piranhas can take down a much larger ship if they could. The operative word was if.
    The Stroud's forward particle cannons lashed out, the targeted corvette's shields were all but destroyed. Next came a volley of missiles armed with 50 kiloton antimatter warheads. Mixed in that volley were dedicated ECM missiles, confounding the pirate's defenses. Some missiles were knocked out by point defense systems, but two corvettes were not so lucky. Even with the distance imposed by their drive fields, the energy liberated by three antimatter warheads utterly destroyed one ship, while another was rendered crippled by just two warheads.
    But the other corvettes found the range. Overcharged shots impacted on the Stroud, the shields losing a significant amount of strength. Eickhoff had her helmsman keep the range open. The corvettes didn't have missiles, and Eickhoff intended to fully exploit that shortcoming. Four more volleys was all the Stroud needed to finish...
    "Proximity Alert!" Lt Basil yelled. "Six corvettes coming out of cloak! Range - 300,000 kilometers!"
    Eickhoff winced. The range of the new arrivals was virtually point-blank. Six fresh guns were thrown in the fray and did considerable damage. One shot got through the aft shields.
    "Engineering has received a direct hit," said Weylan in a calm voice. "Main power plant is off-line. Going to secondary power."
    "Mr Mills, set all missile launchers to sprint mode and commence rapid fire." The Captain eyed her battle plot. Three more corvettes were destroyed, leaving nine little ships closing in on the crippled cruiser. With main power gone the Stroud could only reach half of her maximum speed. She couldn't run, giving the Piranhas the advantage. If the pirates were experienced, they would've stood off and kept a steady barrage on the navy ship. That didn't happen; the pirates actually closed ranks and charged the cruiser. Well, it appears they don't want to capture us, Eickhoff mused. Strange; they're not taking any chances. They must really have it in for us.
    With the proverbial guns a-blazing, the pirates charged the Stroud. Missiles in sprint mode are highly inaccurate at long range. But at close range they're deadly, since no defense system could hope to intercept a missile moving at .7c. Five Piranhas were wiped out at one million kilometers. At 500,000 kilometers two more ships went up in antimatter fireballs. Mr Phad used what maneuverability the Stroud could muster to make his ship a less predictable target. The two remaining Piranhas kept up their barrages, scoring another devastating hit on the navy ship. Eickhoff bit her lip when she saw the Engineering casualty report. Quite a few families would never see their sons and daughters again. A fresh hit made Eickhoff look at her battle plot. The pirates were now only 200,000 kilometers away. With their course and speed it was clear they intended to ram. Mr Mills was too competent to let that happen. At scarcely 40,000 kilometers the Piranhas each received five missile hits; the ships utterly reduced to superheated scrap.
    "Mr Phad, engage cloaking device and cut the drive field. With luck, any pirates watching us will assume we were destroyed along with those two ships," Eickhoff said formaly.
    "Aye-Aye Captain," Phad replied, his hands confirming his wetware's work.
    "Com, update our message drone. Launch it when ready."
    "That may not be possible, Captain," the comm officer said, her voice filled with bolstered courage. "Take a look at repeater three."
    Eickhoff looked at a small screen set to her right side. It displayed the local gravitational conditions. The chaos Eickhoff expected to see was there, as was the region of space that minutes earlier was clear. "It appears we have the gravitational equivalent of an ice field, Mr Weylan," said the Captain to her first officer.
    Mr Weylan looked perplexed. "I'm afraid I don't follow you, Captain. Are you saying..."
    "Indeed I am. The Northwest Passage has closed up behind us. We're trapped."
 

5

18 hours later. The Stroud, still in cloak and engines silent, crawled along at .02c toward the G0 sun. The pirates had single-mindedly targeted the engineering section of the CSN ship, and the casualties were heavy: 10 dead, 14 wounded. Ellis, the chief engineer, was alive, but she lost both legs and was still unconscious. The only senior engineering officer left was Ensign Babcock. With the remaining engine crew, Babcock set upon the task to bring the antimatter power plant back on-line. The work kept him occupied; he would have time enough to mourn for his dead crewmates later.
    Eickhoff assembled her staff in the briefing room. The tri-dee displayed an image of the system. So far two planets and a large asteroid belt have been detected around the yellow star. The twin K1's were too distant to get reliable orbital readings. The officers around the table regarded the floating 3D image as one would a piece of cooked meat. "It appears our efforts have been justified, but only if we stay alive," Eickhoff said with reservation. "Mr Basil, your findings please."
    With his 'ware, Basil changed the display to show the hyperspatial conditions. "Approximately two minutes after combat started a series of gravity wells, larger than those used on asteroid bases, appeared in the same general area where we exited hyperspace. I surmise that there are several cloaked gravitic generators, tasked to come on-line when an unidentified ship enters the system. Until those generators go off-line, we won't be able to leave via hyper... and it'll take over 17 years of travel in normal space to get out of here."
    "Can't we just destroy those generators?" Lt Mills offered. "Once that's done we can whistle in the rest of the task force to come down the Passage."
    "As much as that sounds appealing, Mr Mills, we'll leave those generators alone," Eickhoff announced. "Considering the mass and power requirements those generators need, it is safe to say they're mounted in large platforms and heavily defended to boot." The Captain held everyone's attention. "I want the pirates to believe we're dead, and eventually they will have to shut down those generators. In the meantime we will determine their locations and destroy them at the proper time. But we'll leave a hyper drone behind just in case the generators spin down. At the very least the task force will know what's in this place. Mr Elvaz, your report please."
    Lt Elvaz, the communications officer, unconsciously adjusted her collar. "6 of the 24 stealth drones were destroyed in combat, but the remainder are fully functional. We have 18 stealth satellites remaining and both pinnaces. Given the limited real estate, we can adequately monitor this system."
    "Thank you," Eickhoff said, "and now a word from Mr Xoa."
    Lt Commander Xoa, head of the science section on the Stroud, bowed slightly at the neck. "As Mr Elvaz stated, there is little in the way of real estate in this system. The asteroid belt is rather large, containing at least five major clusters and twice as many small ones. The G0's inner planet is a write-off; like the planet Mercury in the Terra system, it's too small and hot to play host to a pirate base. As for the second planet, it has everything in its favor: the right distance from the sun, rotation speed, density, gravity, and an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere. All that remains is getting more precise data."
    "And we will get that data," Eickhoff intoned. "I've decided to send one of our pinnaces to investigate the planet. Though we've made good on our damage, the main power plant is still not working. We can't withstand another determined attack. Our only option is to stay cloaked and keep the drive off-line." The assembled officer nodded. What the Captain said made perfect sense. "Our cloak is the latest model, so even mass-anomaly detectors will have fits trying to pick us up. We will have to keep our distance and avoid the search groups the pirates will inevitably send out. The pinnace, with it's speed and cloak, can dash to the planet, conduct a quick survey, and return."
    "Captain, how many people will you assign to the mission?" queried Ensign Babcock. "I can't spare anyone to man the pinnace's flight engineer station."
    Eickhoff smiled knowingly. "I've already chosen a minimum crew for the mission. Sergeant-Major Scranton is a qualified shuttle maintenance technician, and he knows the pinnace's power systems by heart. Ensign Carson is a qualified shuttle pilot and knows his electronics. For the actual survey Ensign Leutze will operate the survey equipment and compile the data into meaningful information." Standing up, the Captain placed her hands on her hips, looking confident. "Those pirates may think that by closing the Northwest Passage the navy will lose interest and move on. That won't happen. We're not locked in here with them; they're locked in here with us. And we will prove to them once and for all that piracy is not an honorable profession."

The pinnace cruised at a brisk .11c. Three days into the mission Ensign Carson allowed himself to relax. Only two more satellites were left to be deployed, and the planet, six hours distant, was but a stone's throw away. Leutze kept busy with her work, collecting and analyzing the data her passive sensors picked up. Heck, why did they need me on this mission? Carson wondered. The only reason Scranton is here is to make an 'impartial evaluation' on my officer skills. Typical.
    Indeed, Scranton was keeping a professional eye on both Leutze and Carson. Being a Marine lent Scranton some distance when making performance reports. An old navy salt might add some jazz to a report, whereas a Marine would write an evaluation so terse that it would die of starvation. Scranton kept busy by doing an inventory the pinnace's supplies and running tests on auxiliary systems. Carson felt a little strange; since he was in charge of the mission, both Leutze and Scranton were under his command. It's an ego boost, to be sure, but it's a great responsibility. More than ever Carson hoped that nothing would go wrong. The thought of his decisions determining the fate of his subordinates was sobering indeed.
 

6

The chain of stealth sats did not employ their hypercoms. Though they could be set to a tight-beam transmission mode, hypercom signals always ran the risk of detection. Instead, whisper-thin lasers were used. Those lasers could only be discovered if a ship when across the beam's path. The downside was that lasers were stuck moving at lightspeed. For the Stroud, that meant receiving hours-old data from the pinnace. But Captain Eickhoff was in no hurry, and the planet certainly wasn't going anywhere.
    Ensign Babcock, down in Engineering, went through his checklist again. The fusion plant was in great shape, along with the drive field generators and the inertial dampening system. But without the antimatter plant, the Stroud can't fight effectively.
    Babcock placed his hand on the casing of the matter/antimatter mixing chamber. Having sustained major damage, the chamber received the full attention of Babcock's staff. The mix injectors were rebuilt, and all that remained was to test them. In simulation, the injectors failed, and failure meant the destruction of the ship. For the past three days Babcock worked on the problem, but every correction brought on a new fault, another error. More than ever Babcock wanted Chief Engineer Ellis' advice and guidance. With Ellis still restricted to sickbay Babcock was left to his own devices. And the Captain won't stay understanding for long.

"I must say it's a pretty world, Mister Carson," chimed Scranton, "Lagoon definitely has some competition."
    "Indeed it does, Gunny," Carson agreed. Two hours ago had seen the completion of the satellite deployment. The Stroud was now able to follow Carson's progress, though it would take the comm laser over two hours to reach the ship. More importantly, Scranton decided to let Leutze and Carson call him by his old nickname of Gunny. It's a sign that Scranton's impressed with the two ensigns and their work.
    "I wonder if the water is safe to swim in?" Leutze had a section of calm ocean on her display. "The water temperature is perfect, but I don't care to be eaten by this planet's version of sharks."
    Carson smirked. "The pinnace doesn't carry swimsuits. 'Not a mission-critical piece of equipment' is the phrase, I believe. Besides, that ice ring is an oddity. Probably the only thing worth looking at in the night sky."
    The planet, given the nickname Pond by Leutze, wasn't all that unique. Like Lagoon, it's a water-intensive world. But whereas Lagoon has 81% ocean-coverage, Pond had at least 90%. Aside from numerous island chains, the only appreciable landmass was a continent roughly the same size of Australia back on Terra. A worthy mountain range, volcanic in origin, separated the eastern quarter of the continent from the rest. Overall, the land was a mix of thin forests and grasslands. So far no signs of habitation have been detected, but the pinnace was still a good half-million kilometers from the planet. Carson thought for a moment, then entered some commands into his flight panel. "Mr Scranton, Mr Leutze, I have decided to make a closer investigation of the planet. We'll enter orbit and conduct a systematic survey of the continent."
    "Very good, Sir," intoned Scranton. "I'll send a message to the Stroud informing them of your decision."
    Leutze worked her panel, talking to Carson via her 'ware. Everything set with my instruments, Sir. Do you want me to use the mapping radar?
    Proceed, but be sure to use it sparingly. Even though we're cloaked, we can still be discovered if someone is watching their warning sensors, Carson 'said' back. "Gunny, bring our engines up to 50%. I want to get in orbit by 1430 hours."
    "Aye-Aye Sir." The seasoned Marine replied.

The night air felt cool, made to feel a bit cooler by a light breeze. A girl, perhaps 16 in age, sat on an expansive deck. Sitting in a simple chair, the girl gazed up at the night sky. On any other world, there would've been a plethora of stars to look at. But on this world, when the yellow sun sets, the nights were stygian by design. The dust that formed the outer shell of the system prevented the inhabitants of this world from seeing any stars. Only the weak glow of the sun's distant twin companions, and the light reflected by the planet's unnatural ring of ice, dared to challenge the night.
    A tall man, his features obscured in the darkness, walked up to the girl. "Mae-Mae, why are you still out here? Come back inside where it's warm."
    "Father, do I have to? It's not going to get any colder out here tonight. Besides, I have a blanket with me." Mae-Mae said, sticking out her tongue.
    "Impudent girl," the father said with resignation. He knew he couldn't win when his little girl made up her mind. "Can you at least swear upon the ring that you'll be on your best behavior for the dinner tomorrow night?"
    "I would, Father, but the ring is acting funny."
    "Funny? Mae-Mae, you better not use that as an excuse to act foolishly."
    The girl got up. Being a tiny thing, the top of her head only reached the bottom of her father's ribcage. "Father, it's true! Look up there. It's like a sparkler on New Year's Day."
    The father gazed up towards the ice ring. Indeed, something queer was happening up there. A tiny sparkle worked off several of the ice particles, producing a ruby glow no larger than a fly in the night sky. The father smiled grandly. "I see. The spirits are reminding me to make sure you wear the proper dress for tomorrow. Though you're an ample girl, you must show some restraint. No see-through cups for you."
    Mae-Mae pouted, but she knew her father was right. "I promise. Good night, father."
    "Good night, princess," the man said, accepting Mae-Mae's hug. The little girl had a considerable bust, her proud watermelons easily overwhelming her slender frame. Letting go, Mae-Mae walked down a lighted footpath, stilling her gown-covered lungs with her delicate arms. Only when she was out of sight did the man produce a communicator from his jacket pocket. He primed it, waiting for the person on the far end to respond.
    "This is Orbital Control, Duty Officer Andrews speaking."
    "Officer Andrews, this is King Roger. I believe we have an unwanted visitor in orbit. Get the ready squadrons launched, and have the ships begin an intensive orbital search. If there's an intruder, I want it captured."
    "Understood, Sire. Orbital Control out."
    The man known as King Roger placed the communicator back in his pocket. Though unseen, his smile can be sensed in the darkness. "It's been a long time since I had naval personnel as guests," King Roger said to himself, "but they will be treated to much more civilized conditions, totally unlike those spacers so many years ago."

"So that's how the ring is being maintained. They're using gravitic satellites to keep the ice blocks in check." said Leutze with finality. "When we passed through the ring my passive sensors detected an artificial gravity field close-by."
    "That's another definite sign that someone's here," Carson said. "If it weren't for those satellites, then this ice ring would've fallen apart in a matter of years. I wonder how many comets were busted up to make the ring?"
    Leutze looked at her flat-panel display, her eyes filled with wonder. "They would only need a modest comet to make the ring. But look at channel 2 to see something even more amazing."
    Intrigued, Carson changed his display. Like Leutze, the young ensign had to stare in wonder at what he saw. Some 600km below, in the nighttime darkness, was a city. The regular pattern of street lights and illuminated advertisement signs were all too evident to the pinnace's optical sensors. "Well, this is certainly something to call in," Carson said absently, activating his comm controls.
    "Mr Carson, wait," Scranton said firmly. "Our comm laser could be reflected in the ice ring. If someone is looking, they could see the resulting light show. Wait until we have an unobstructed line-of-sight to the satellite."
    "Too late, Gunny," Carson said. "The chances of anyone seeing the laser reflecting of the ice is remote. I've sent a message earlier through the ring, so any response would've been made by now."
    "Then make that now," Leutze broke in, "I'm picking up indications of multiple drive fields. They're coming from the far side of the planet."
    "Can you determine what they are, Mr Leutze?" Carson's voice was automatically detached and professional, but inside his heart began to beat faster.
    Leutze worked on her panel. "I make it at least 24 shuttle or fighter-strength fields, and at least 8, no, 15 ships. It seems they're converging where our comm laser intersected the ice ring."
    "When it rains it pours. Mr Scranton, apply minimum power to the drive field," Carson commanded confidently. "We're going to take an evasive course away from this planet."
    The Marine Sergeant-Major nodded. "Aye-Aye, Sir. Drive field now at mobility threshold."
    Carson entered his flight plan into the computers. If everything worked the pinnace would be clear of the planet in five minutes. Then it would be an easy matter to put in another evasive course back to the Stroud. But the fighters and ships had their own plans. In a flying wall formation, the pirates activated every sensor and detection device they had. Carson wasn't worried; like the Stroud, the pinnace has the latest in cloak technology. There is only one sure way of detecting a cloaked ship, but the range will have to be so absurdly short that...
    "Tachyon pulses!" Leutze yelled. "Our cloak is beginning to destabilize."
    "Damn. Mr Scranton, full power to the engines!" Carson said, and for the first time the ensign felt worried.
    The old Marine winced. "No can do, Sir. We now have at least six tractor beams locked on us. We're being pulled in towards one of the larger ships."
    Damn, Damn, Damn! Carson cursed to himself. If I'd just made sure about the laser's LOS then this wouldn't have happened! There was nothing else he could've done. The pinnace didn't mount a weapon capable of harming a pirate ship. If the pirates went with standard practice, then a boarding party would be sent over in a shuttle. There was only one thing Ensign Carson could do. "Mr Scranton, activate the pinnace's scuttling charges. Set the timer for two minutes. Mr Leutze, send a final message to the nearest stealth satellite. Include our logs and current situation report."
    "Aye, Sir," Scranton said formally. "Charges set."
    "Message sent, Sir." Leutze took a final look at her work panel. "Too bad we couldn't use our hypercom, but the pirates could've traced it back to the ship."
    Carson make a final look around the flight cabin, his face showing both resignation and sadness. "So much for my first command. I hope that the pirate food is better than the rations we had to eat on this bucket." The ensign then entered the ejection sequence. The three occupied flight stations were wrapped up in their own escape cocoons.
    Remember your training, ensigns, Scranton said with his ware. They'll probably keep you two alive, but pirates hate Marines with a vengeance. I'll either be shot dead or spend the next seventy years in a foul prison cell.
    Gunny, don't think that, Leutze replied. We'll keep those pirates occupied until the Captain rescues us. After all, there's nothing more dangerous than an ensign with an idea. Right, David?
    David Carson snorted. Yeah, sure, just looked what happen here. I'll probably end up ruling this planet in no time. Just you... The escape cocoons ejected from the pinnace at that particular moment. Seconds later those cocoons were caught by tractor beams and hauled away. The pirates also knew by experience what was going to happen to the pinnace. Tractors beams set to reverse, the pinnace was pushed away. When it exploded, the pinnace sent a shower of debris down towards the planet. The few people watching the sky had the pleasure of seeing an impromptu light show as metal fragments burnt up in the atmosphere.
 

7

"So, has it been confirmed?" Weylan said, speaking for everyone in the officers' mess.
    Captain Eickhoff settled her fork on the plate. Even a dinner fit for a four-star restaurant couldn't distract her from the subject at hand. "It has, Number One. Lt Elvaz has gone over the transmissions thoroughly. The pinnace's com laser was detected in the ice ring and the pirates investigated. Leutze had set the pinnace's com section to transmit up to the very end, and thus we know that she, Carson, and Scranton had ejected. The Pirates have them now."
    Ensign Babcock's face looked a bit flushed. "Captain, what will the pirates do to them?" In Babcock's vivid imagination he saw his companions being beset with horrific tortures and vile indignities.
    The Captain looked directly at Babcock, her face noncommittal. "I image Scranton will be treated roughly. It's not often that pirates can take personal revenge on Marines, especially battle-harden veterans like Scranton. As for Carson and Leutze... well, I must say they'll have better treatment. After all, this is the first time that a navy ship has entered this system. The fabled Pirate King will treat those two like honored quests, just like in the ancient adventure movies of long ago."
    Mr Mills folded his arms. "It's likely this Pirate King will corrupt and seduce Carson and Leutze, making them join his horde of criminals. Besides, a 'ware-equipped person can be quite useful to pirates."
    "Carson and Leutze are still filled with the righteousness instilled from their Academy training, Mr Mills," Weylan said for her captain. "And their 'ware will help them resist temptation. They know that the navy won't give up, now that the Pirate Planet has been found."
    "Provided that we can get rid of those gravitic generators blocking our way out, Mr Weylan," Eickhoff said, addressing not only her first officer but everyone else in the mess. "Some interesting contingency programming has been implanted into our captured trio's wetware before they left. When the opportunity presents itself, the universe will again be shown that an ensign with an idea can do incredible things - and cause considerable chaos."

Ensign David Carson rubbed his eyes, coaxing them to open. For one that expected his body to obey him, David found it hard to get up, his arms unnaturally weak and trembling. He fell back, his head cushioned by a luxurious pillow. Hearing the sound of footsteps, David managed to turn his head. He saw that he was in a room, a big one at that. The lighting was soft and indirect, but David did see a short girl walking towards him. At first, he couldn't make out her build, as her white overshirt obscured her form. Only when the girl stood a meter away did David made out her incredible curves.
    For starters, the girl was tiny, perhaps no taller than 140cm. Her raven-colored hair, tied with a golden cord, reached down to her thighs. Breasts that would've been huge even for a tall woman graced the girl's front. Unable to see her back or thighs, David hazard a guess that the girl had to be wearing a bust-management device (BMD, a fancy word for anti-gravity bra - PV). Otherwise the little thing would've found walking a labor.
    "Oh, did I disturbed your sleep?" The girl said with grace, her blue eyes sparkling with warmth. "I can return later."
    "No," David replied with a sleep-laden voice, "you can stay. In fact, I want to know what this place is. Who's in charge?"
    The girl giggled. It was a sweet, innocent sound. "That would be my daddy. I can fetch him right away, but he will want to know your name. Mine's Mae-Mae."
    "Mae-Mae, you may tell your father that I'm Ensign David Carson of the Commonwealth Space Navy. Tell him that I'm looking forward to be honored by his presence."
    Mae-Mae giggled again. "Mr Carson, you have a cute accent! Where did you get it?"
    "I was born and raised on Outback," David said, making his Outback twang more pronounced. "Haven't you heard of that planet?"
    "Yes, but I'd never expected to see a real-live Ocker, especially a cute one like you. I'll be back," Mae-Mae beamed, walking away with her arms locked under her bust. David fought down a stirring of arousal as he saw her little slack-clad bottom swing back and forth.
    Damn you, David! the ensign thought. I bet she isn't a day over 15! I should be thinking about Leutze and Scranton. Finding some strength, David propped up and looked around the room. Though there were other beds, they were empty. Not here. Damn, I hope they're alive.
    Moments later Mae-Mae returned with her father in hand. The man was easily two meters tall, his russet-colored hair and beard neatly combed and trimmed. Blue eyes that twinkled with mischief looked upon the weary ensign. "I hope the bed is to your liking, Ensign Carson," the man said, his jolly voice seemingly out-of-place with his massive physique. "In a short time you'll be moved into quarters that are much more comfortable."
    David expected to see a scar-covered and bitter man, not the well-groomed and gracious host in front of him. "As it stands, Sir, my personal comfort is secondary to the whereabouts of my companions. Are Leutze and Scranton being taken care of just as well as me?"
    The big man grinned. "Ah, I'm glad that you've asked that question, Ensign Carson. Your friends are in the best of hands, and you'll see them shortly. But know this. Though you three are guests, you're uninvited guests. Your movements will be closely tracked, and your 'ware communications will be jammed." The man moved closer, a bit of menace in his eyes. "You will, of course, attempt to escape or otherwise try to contact your ship. Oh, go ahead and say that you three escaped from the Stroud before it exploded. I, however, have every reason to believe that the ship survived the battle with the picket force. My men will find the Stroud in due course." The man walked over to a closet and drew out a robe, throwing it at David. "You will be hungry soon, Ensign. When you're ready, put on that robe and join me in the main dining hall. Mae-Mae will guide you there."
    David clutched the robe, its green fabric soft as silk. "Sir, you may ask your questions, but an ensign by nature is a very poor source of information. Am I unworthy to know your name?"
    The man laughed a loud, hardy laugh. "Oh, Mr Carson! For the first ensign to visit my world you certainly play your part well. You'll be surprised what a fresh-faced ring-knocker really knows!  Now to add to your every-growing book of facts, know my name as King Roger, the sixth ruler of the planet Aquarius. The rest of the universe simply knows me as The Pirate King. I hope to see you shortly at my dinner table. G'day," King Roger finished with the Outback phrase for goodbye and left the room in a confident manner.
    David sighed and fell back onto his pillow. He realized that Mae-Mae was still in room. "Mae-Mae, is it necessary for you to look at me like that? I'm not going to escape, as your father surely has hidden guards keeping me under surveillance."
    "I know, Ensign Carson," Mae-Mae said back in a giggle. "But my father told me to stay with you." David's incredulous look made the girl laugh. "But only as far as escorting you to the dining hall, that's all!"
    David inspected the robe. "Mae-Mae, though this robe is long enough, I'll feel much better if I had a pair of underpants. Where's the pair I had on me?"
    "They're in the drawer over there," grinned the girl as she pointed to a far dresser. "And I promise to look the other way while you get them."

"Do you find the robe to your liking, Ensign Leutze?"
    The ensign eyed both her robe and the girl that stood expectantly in front of her. Having been awake for five minutes wasn't much time to make sense of things. But she did know what she wanted at that very moment. "Daisy, I'll find this robe even more to my liking if I had a pair of panties. Did some grubby pirate made off with mine?"
    Like Mae-Mae, Daisy was small for her apparent age of 16. And like the daughter of King Roger, Daisy was blessed with a pair of watermelon breasts on her slight frame. "Oh, they haven't, Ensign. I can fetch them right away, but the King doesn't like to be kept waiting."
    "Then you better get them now," Leutze ordered. "I'll catch my death if I don't have them."
    "Yes, ma'am," replied Daisy. Now alone, Leutze tried her 'ware again. And again there was nothing but static. It could either have been deliberate jamming or that Carson and Scranton were out of range. I hope that David and Gunny are alive. If this King person is willing to see me wearing only a robe, then what else does he have in mind? The ensign shuddered at the thought that the King could be some sort of sex maniac.
    Daisy returned with panty in hand. "Here you go, Ensign Leutze."
    "Thank you, Daisy." Turning around, Leutze put on her panty with a practiced speed she learned during her first semester at the Academy. Fixing her robe, the ensign gave her hair a quick promise before facing Daisy again. "Daisy, you may now take me to your King."
    "Certainly, ma'am. He'll be glad to have company for dinner."
 

8

In a dining hall fit to serve a king and his court sat a man that considered himself every inch a king. Tended by a multitude of overendowed serving wenches, King Roger, ruler of the planet Aquarius, grinned as he observed ensigns Carson and Leutze being escorted towards the huge dining table.
    "Oh, I'm so happy you two have decided to join me!" Roger exclaimed. "You won't be disappointed. Please, take a seat and indulge yourselves."
    "King Roger," David Carson said formally, "though I'm glad to see my fellow ensign alive and well, I won't partake of your dinner until I know the whereabouts of Sergeant-Major Treavor Scranton."
    King Roger smiled. "Ah, I appreciate your concern and thoughtfulness about your men! Mr Scranton will... ah, he's here!"
    There was a commotion at the far end of the hall. Scranton entered, being lead by a servant girl. "Where's that King Bugger freak?" Scranton yelled. "He must be a sick puppy if he expects this girl to tend to my needs."
    "I'll pardon that insult this one time, Mr Scranton," Roger replied, standing up to his full height. "But even my patience can be tested, and I have little time for rude guests. That woman next to you is only doing her job."
    "Woman? This tiny thing?" The huge Marine questioned. "You're pulling me a silly."
    "I'm not mistaken. The bonnie lasses here are not older than 24, though at times they may act half that age. Now, Mr Carson," Roger turned to the ensign, "since your friends have gathered I again offer the hospitality of my dinner table."
    David sighed. "Monica, Gunny, go ahead and sit. If they wanted us dead, they wouldn't have stunned us senseless in our escape pods."
    "Mr Carson, why are you so quick to cast dispersions upon my hospitality? Perhaps a bit of food in your stomach will clear your head of such vile accusations." Roger spread out his arms in an encompassing gesture. "Please, eat."
    The three inadvertent guests of King Roger sat and took some of the food. From simple grapes to well-cooked meats the trio took their fill. The serving wenches stood ready to refill cups and glasses and give out fresh napkins.
    The King smiled as his guests finished their dinners. "Yes, I'd say you've enjoyed my hospitality quite a bit. And, in accordance to dining tradition, I shall tell you a story."
    Scranton snorted. "A story about greasy bastards running around in third-rate starships is more of a delightful farce than a story." Then with fixed gaze Scranton look at King Roger. "How many wedding rings have you stolen from the women you raped?"
    "Gunny!" David said with vigor. "I sure hate to tell your family that it was your mouth that caused your death."
    King Roger grinned and shook his head. "Mr Carson, I've killed men who were less an irritation than Mr Scranton. Being a Marine, Scranton has to say those things about pirates. If he's quite through, I'll proceed."
    David gave Scranton a look that said 'keep that up and you'll definitely get whacked'. The old Marine didn't get that way by being stupid, so he kept his smart mouth shut... for now. "King Roger, please tell us your story."
    Convinced of his guest's sincerity, Roger placed his laced hands upon his belly. "190 standard years ago my ancestor, Konrad Wertz, was on the run from the authorities. His ship was being pursued by no less than 20 naval units. Thanks to the limited hyper capacitors back then, Konrad had at least one ship following him at all times. Then, as luck would have it, the hyperspatial sensors of one pursuer failed, thus giving Konrad the chance to put some distance between himself and the Navy. The Ink Spot back then was still a curiosity, but Konrad knew that the gas cloud was a perfect cover from prying sensors. Image his surprize when he found by sheer luck the entrance of the hyper tunnel. Nicknaming it the Northwest Passage, Konrad decided to satisfy his curiosity and entered the tunnel. He was rewarded by the presence of this planet, Aquarius. Armed with this knowledge, Konrad then set upon to make this world his own. After some minor terraforming, the only continent was made fit for man to live on."
    David nodded. "I see. The navy always wondered where the pirates had their ships built. Aquarius offered the only place where a pirate shipyard could work with absolute secrecy."
    "Yes, Mr Carson. After the terraforming project came the people needed to build those ships and support them. A space station was constructed, along with its attending shipyard section. The asteroid belt provided a ready supply of raw materials to construct the ships. From that time on pirates everywhere were never in want of ships."
    "King Roger," Monica said, "how many people live on this planet? Gauging from this room alone your residence must require a large staff."
    "Ah, questions come quick from such lovely lips," Roger said smoothly. "Less than three-quarters of a million people live here. The vast majority live in or around towns that are no bigger than 10,000, and only a paltry 50,000 live in the city of Konrad. It's a rather pleasant world once you have gotten accustomed to it."
    Monica looked serious. "Who's saying that me and my friends will stay here that long? Eventually another way will be found into the Ink Spot."
    King Roger took a long draw from his glass. "My dear Ensign Leutze, you are so right. But if you know anything about pirates then it's this: a pirate never places himself in a situation where he can't easily escape from. Even Konrad Wertz knew that when he settled his world. Plans have been made long before you were born to cover the possibility of the navy finding us here."
    "And find us they will!" Scranton snorted. "It'll be fun to see you get a belly full of lead from the firing squad. You couldn't have made king just on your good looks alone."
    "Gunny!" David said with urgency.
    King Roger chuckled. "He's right, Mr Carson. I had to prove myself worthy of the throne. I conducted dozens of captures and raids, and even challenged my brothers to a sword duel. To date, I've won every fight, and none of my challengers survived." Roger yawned. "The meal has made me tired. And you three will need to rest." With a snap of the fingers fit for a king, Roger brought forth a slew of guards. "I regret the need for these guards, but Mr Scranton's verbal attacks may be replaced with physical ones. And I don't want you three to come to harm. You can either make this a pleasurable experience, or a nightmare from the blackest pit of your souls. Now, I must bid you a good night."
    King Roger rose, escorted out of the room by Daisy and Mae-Mae. The guards, tall as David and quite capable of breaking anyone's back, waited patiently as the guests got up.
    "David, what's to become of us?" Monica was apprehensive as three guards approached her. A similar number advanced on Gunny and David.
    The youthful ensign thought about the rapid turn of events. Less than a day had gone by, and in that time he went from commanding a pinnace to becoming a guest of the legendary Pirate King. And more than once David pinched himself to remember that this wasn't a dream. "Don't sweat it, Monica," David replied with the required bravado. "I'm sure we'll come out of this with more than a promotion and shiny medals on our chests."
    Gunny made an incredulous laugh. "I couldn't agree more, Mr Carson. After all, promotions and medals can be given to dead people too."
    The trio was broken up and moved toward separate doors, but David managed to speak one last time. "Gunny, remind me to put you down for a remedial course in manners and tact. How you made it to Sergeant-Major I'll never know."
 

9

Captain's Log, September 19, 2441. Commander Paulette Eickhoff, commanding officer, reporting. It's been two days since we've lost contact with Ensign Carson and his crew. We can only hope that they're alive; prisoners of pirates are not known for their longevity. As for the ship, I'm happy to report that almost every primary and secondary system is fully functional. What remains is the antimatter power plant. Mr Babcock has done an exemplary job to date, but he'll do well by having the plant back on-line soon. The pirates do have a sixth sense when it comes to locating cloaked units. One pirate had closed within one million klicks of this ship. The next time we may not be so fortunate.
    Eickhoff turned off the recording. On it's present evasive course and deliberate slow speed the Stroud will reach the planet in 24 days. The Captain could only wonder what's happening to her three captured crewmembers. More importantly, she wondered if she could recognize them when she saw them. Pirates loved physical combat; Scranton can hold his own against any man, but the two ensigns would be nothing more than practice bags for pirate toughs.

"Mr Scranton, get up. It's time for your bath," a gentle voice whispered into the Marine's sleepy ear. With exaggerated slowness, Treavor Scranton woke and sat up in bed.
    Scranton didn't recognize the room; it wasn't the one he fell asleep in last night. The simple yet decorative chairs and dresser were definitely not the rich and gaudy ones he saw earlier. And the little woman standing next to him wasn't the same one he saw in the palace. "What's your name, girl?" the Marine said in a plain voice.
    "My name is Xala, and I'm not a girl. I'm 24 standard years old," the 145cm-tall woman said.
    "Well, ma'am," Scranton said with disdain, "I'm not gonna take a bath until I get my robe. You may prance around naked, but I prefer at least some dignity."
    Xala wasn't naked, but she could be mistaken as such. She wore a pair of khaki-colored short-shorts, a pair of sandals, and a khaki halter top for her watermelon bust. Xala went arms akimbo, though only her shoulders, elbows, and hands could be seen clearly. "I expected as much, Mr Scranton. The robe is on that chair," she pointed to a chair in the far corner, "and the door to the bath is there." Her thumb indicated to the door behind her. "If you're not in the bath in five minutes then I'll send for the guards and drag you in."
    "That won't be necessary, little lady," Scranton relented. Xala seemed a bit happy that the big Marine had to use the word 'lady'. "Now, turn that top-heavy body of yours around and go out the door. My private parts aren't meant for casual display."
   Xala left, deliberately exaggerating the sway of her walk and the bounce of her bust. The halter top maintained its perilous hold on the little woman's bouncing bustline. Though he had seen his share of bouncing boobs before, Scranton guiltily admitted that he found Xala's walk a breath of fresh air.
    After securing his robe, Scranton opened the door to the bath. He was greeted by a puff of steam and the sensation of humidity. The bath itself was more like a personal swimming pool, complete with a two-meter waterfall and a jacuzzi attachment. About to remove his robe, Scranton saw that the bath was occupied.  A quartet of girls milled about the waterfall, lathering up and rinsing their hair in the warm falling water.
    "What is this?" Scranton questioned. "I'm not so enfeebled that I need help to wash myself. Now, all of you, get out and leave me alone."
    "But Mr Scranton," one tiny woman said, keeping most of her bust underwater, "we've been told by our mistress to attend to your needs. Even so far as assisting you in the bath."
    "I don't think so, girls. I don't play that game. The only person allowed to take a bath with me is my wife. And I don't bathe with little girls, however well-equipped they are."
    "As you desire, Mr Scranton," the water nymph said. "But you will have to explain yourself to Mistress Hollister. She may construe your refusal of our services as a direct insult." The quartet rose and exited the bath. Scranton kept his gaze averted while the little women donned their equally tiny robes. Only when they've left did Scranton disrobe and entered the bath. It was moments later he saw Xala standing in a corner.
    "Xala, just give me one good reason why I shouldn't paddle that sweet behind of yours. As I told your girls, I bathe alone."
   Stepping to pool's edge, Xala got on her knees and held Scranton's gaze. To his credit, the Marine kept his eyes on Xala's and not on her wonderful cleavage. "Mr Scranton, I'm responsible for your well-being. What if you had an accident in here and there's no-one around to help? You may dismiss the other girls, but it'll be my head that'll roll if you're injured. Don't make this any tougher for you, Mr Scranton. Mistress Hollister doesn't like ungrateful guests."
    Scranton sighed. "I'll be more appreciative in future, little lady. I don't want anything to happen to that pretty bottom of yours on account of me." Scranton winked an eye at a now blushing Xala. "Now, prove to me that you're more than a pair of walking breasts and fetch me a scrub brush. I must make myself presentable when I meet with your Mistress Hollister. Oh," Scranton said, making Xala turn around, "one more thing. From now on you and your girls can call me Gunny."
    "Thank you, Gunny." Xala giggled as she went to fetch a scrub brush.

"Well, Ensign Leutze, how did you find your breakfast? Would you like more?"
    "Please, Mr Radinov, call me Monica," said the stuffed ensign. "I would love to have more of your hospitality, but a woman must watch her figure." With a sincere smile Monica regarded her host. Karl Radinov was a pirate, a rather highly-placed pirate since he was deemed worthy by King Roger to play host to one Ensign Monica Leutze. Radinov's estate lies 400 kilometers northwest of Konrad, settled in a region of low hills and scattered woods. For the past two days Monica has been treated regally by Mr Radinov and his staff. It turned out that Daisy was the youngest daughter of Radinov's second wife. The fair-haired girl was bright and inquisitive, but her questions centered on Monica's lack of a chest. It's a valid line of inquiry; Monica's E-cup top was downright small compared to the shorter, but much more endowed, Daisy.
    "Yes, Monica. At your age a woman has to look to her best to attract a man. But you need not worry about me; my two wives keep me occupied."
    "Appropriate, considering how small they are," Monica stated firmly. "The women I've seen so far are scarcely above 150cm tall. The odds of that occurring are queer."
    Radinov looked a bit bemused, stroking his black beard. "Ah, the odds are not so queer when you consider the laws of this world. The environment favors small women, and I must say it makes them more amiable and happy." Monica looked doubtful. "Now, now, Monica. I've seen that face before. Can my pirate ancestors helped it if they liked small women? Besides, being at such a height makes a woman more desirable and precious. And they don't eat as much either! A definite savings in the food bill!"
    Monica had to laugh at that observation. As a girl, Monica was called a bottomless stomach by her mother. Her active metabolism rapidly took care of any calorie that came its way. A harem of tiny women would only need a fraction of the upkeep a normal-sized collection of women would require. "If that's the case, Mr Radinov, then your Daisy could live just on the sweet attention you give her."
    "I wish I could say that, but my Daisy can eat any man under the table. Working at the Palace offers many opportunities for one to fill his belly. Now," Radinov stood up, "it's time to give you the full tour of the residence. My son, Angel, will be your guide. I'll see both of you for dinner tonight. Angel!" Radinov commanded to an empty doorway. "You can come in now."
    A boy, roughly 185cm tall and strongly built, came in hesitantly. Green eyes wide with anticipation, the boy looked obediently at Radinov. "Yes, Father?"
    "Angel, you will show Miss Leutze the grounds and answer her questions. Get a buggy ready and bring it out front. The lady will wait for you there."
    "Yes, Father." The dark-hair lad left, leaving Monica to ponder what questions she could ask of such a cute, simple-looking boy.
 

10

David looked at his wardrobe. King Roger had the same height and build as David. In a magnanimous gesture, the Pirate King loaned some of his 'spare clothes' to the ensign. The clothing was made from the most expensive and exotic of materials: Jadestone minx, Terran ferret, and Outback bushbear. Not caring to wear obviously stolen goods, David settled on a casual fair - golf shirt and slacks. Giving himself a once-over in a full-length mirror, the ensign took a breath and stepped out of the room.
    A palace servant was waiting for David. As with all the other women he saw, this one was no different. Perhaps 145cm tall, the servant wore a pair of white slacks with a red stripe running down the side of each leg. Her red-trimmed halter top supported her watermelon bust, cleavage expansive and inviting. The shirtless white collar sported a red bowtie, and her feet were adorned with black self-adjusting shoes. Just below her bowtie was a gold pendent, shaped in the centuries-old skulls-and-crossbones image. The skull had smokey-black emeralds for eyes and platinum teeth. Other than that, the only piece of gold on the servant was the buckle on her black belt.
    The servant bowed at the neck. She then had to crane her head up to see David's face. "Good morning, Mr Carson. The King is having breakfast. He has requested your presence."
    "Then lead on, Isabelle," David said in a pleasant mood. "I'm feel a bit peckish this morning."
    Isabelle smirked, turning to lead her massive charge to King Roger. Like all the servants that heard him speak, Isabelle found David's Outback accent 'cute'. Other Commonwealth planets have kept their accents from the people that settled them, but with Outback it was more pronounced. Male Outback comedians only had to open their mouths and their audiences would bust out laughing. Female Ockers (native Outback women) were deemed especially attractive with their honey voices, ensuring that they were always the center of attention when they go off-planet. David couldn't change his voice, but knew what effect it had on the servants. If the opportunity arouse, David intended to use his voice to the maximum advantage.
    The trip to the dining hall was short, and along the way David saw expensive pieces of art on the walls. No doubt many of them were stolen from their original owners, either by stealth or force of arms. At the hall entrance Isabelle opened the doors and bowed at the waist, her halter top threaten to pop off. She then spoke in a loud voice that belied her short stature. "Your Majesty, Ensign David Carson."
    King Roger looked up from his plate. His characteristic grin was on in an instant. "Ah, good morning Mr Carson. I see that you're wearing one of my golf suits. Excellent choice, for today we'll be taking a tour of my domain. Please," Roger indicated to a chair next to his, "take a seat and partake of the morning meal."
    Gee, and people say Ockers have a monopoly on overstatement, David thought. He got to his chair, being seated by Isabelle. For such a little woman Isabelle was able to push in David's chair. She bowed to King Roger and left, leaving the Ensign to fend for himself.
    After David had finished off his plate of eggs and bacon, King Roger decided to strike up a conversation. "Mr Carson, you're still thinking of escape, aren't you?"
    "That's a rather abrupt thing to say, Sire," David countered. "Afraid I'll see an opportunity to escape?"
    Roger's belly laugh was fit for the Ghost of Christmas Present. "You may not consciously think it, Ensign, but your 'ware certainly is. Go ahead and let your 'ware record and think to its heart's content; the dampening field will keep you from realizing your plans. You'll find your time here much more relaxing once you realize you'll be my guest for the foreseeable future."
    "As long as we understand each other," David coolly said. "Now, what's this about a tour?"
    "I'm so happy that you comprehend your situation. As for the tour we'll start as soon as I finish this wonderful glass of milk. Waste not, Want not." Roger polished off his glass in a long swig. His serving girl wiped his mouth and helped him out of his chair. "Now, if you're quite ready, we will leave."

After the bath and a short breakfast Scranton was ushered into a study by Xala. The room was obviously well used. File pads were laid about in a casual manner, as if the reader would come back any moment and pick up where they left off. In one of the plush study chairs sat a woman. From what he saw Scranton concluded it was Mistress Hollister. The woman was old enough, her body easily in its forties while her actual age could be in the eighties.
    The woman saw Scranton. She placed her file pad on her lap, carefully avoiding her own considerable bust. "Mr Treavor Scranton, I've been expecting you. Please, sit."
    The Marine did as he was told. The lady did say please, after all. Unlike her servants, Hollister wore a blouse instead of a halter top. A golden locket attached to a piece of chain rested on her covered ampleness. "I image you want the 'straight shit' on the reason for you being here, Mr Scranton."
    "Yes, ma'am," Scranton said, a bit surprized. He didn't expect such a fine-looking lady to use profanity so early in a conversation.
    "It's rather simple: no other house would have you as a guest, especially with your record." Hollister look bemused while Scranton put on a puzzled look. "Oh yes, we pirates keep track of our enemies. You've really earned yourself a name among us. Do you want to know what your nickname is?"
    "You would've told me even if I didn't ask."
    "Now, how did I know you were going to say that?" Hollister giggled. "You're called the Cracker, and it's not based on your ethnic origin. It has to do with your penchant of breaking backs in hand-to-hand combat."
    Scranton nodded thoughtfully. "Well, you gotta see from my perspective. After witnessing several of your buddies get mowed down in traps and ambushes you get kinda anxious for payback. Taking physical vengeance was the perfect way to do just that. I wasn't even in powered armor when I rubbed out those pirates that first time. I got caught up in the moment."
    "A most brutal and powerful warrior you are, Mr Scranton. Even so, I can only guarantee your safety if you stay within the confines of my estate. Outside the protection of my walls you're fair game to anyone."
    "Well, so much for sneaking off to town to get some beer," mused Scranton. "If I may ask, what's Mr Hollister's opinion?"
    With a deft hand Hollister opened her locket, showing the old-fashion photo inside to Scranton. "Unfortunately, we'll never know Charly's opinion. 15 years ago an antimatter warhead on his ship experienced a containment field failure. My Charly and his crew were killed instantly in the resulting explosion. Then Wendy, his second wife and my dear friend," she said with some effort, fighting to keep her throat clear, "died while giving birth to Nikki, my youngest."
    "My condolences, Mistress Hollister," Scranton genuinely offered.
    "Oh, call me Rebecca," the lady said with flourish. "Aside from the guards, I've been left to my own devices managing this estate. With six girls and five servants running around I've been unable to discipline them as I should. My eldest son would've been the new estate head, but he, like his father, died in that same mishap. My other two sons died when their ships were destroyed by Commonwealth forces." Rebecca regained her composure, holding in her tears. "If just one of my sons lived, then everything would've turned out right."
    The figurative lightbulb when off over Scranton's head. "Whoa, wait a silly, you're not..."
    Rebecca smiled like the Cheshire Cat. "Oh, you're my guest all right, but this isn't going to be a free ride. Mr Scranton, I need your help in disciplining my girls. They'll never get married if they continue on like teenage wastrels, spending money on trinkets instead of proper clothes. I figure Marine discipline is what they need."
    Scranton laid back in thought, eyes closed. Technically, he's a prisoner, and prisoners are obligated to escape. But Rebecca's talk had changed his mind. The paranoid part of his mind told him that it was some elaborate plot to endure him to Rebecca. Then, the resulting affection would be turned against him, controlling him. His compassionate side told him different. He had seen his fair share of grieving widows, having consoled a few in his decades of service. Only a wife who had lost her husband could emote the way Rebecca was doing now.
    Eyes opened, Scranton looked squarely at Rebecca's expectant face. "Rebecca, I have just one question. Can I get one beer a day for services rendered?"
    For the first time in many years Rebecca had a hardy laugh, making a few buttons on her blouse pop off. She stilled her bosom with her dainty hands. "Better make that two beers! That way I can share the experience with you, Mr Scranton."
    "Already there's something to correct. To be consistent, call me Gunny while in front of your girls. You can call me Treavor in private. Now," Gunny said, rubbing his hands, "if you got a file pad and a pen, I'll make up a list of materials I need for my training program."
 

11

Monica gazed at the distant tops of the Partition Mountains. The sun was setting, its dying rays lending a golden glow to the occasion. It was while doing this gazing that Monica reflected on the events earlier in the day. Expecting the stereotypical pirate son (avarice-filled and horny), Angel lived up to his namesake. During the tour of the grounds, Angel asked intelligent, sincere questions about space. As the son of a pirate captain, Angel was fully expected to follow in his father's footsteps. Any source of information was valid, including an ensign in the CSN.
    The sound of footfalls broke Monica's recollection. It was Angel, bashfully looking at the ensign's feet. "Uhmmmm... Monica, my dad sent me to tell you that dinner is served. Your place at the table is waiting."
    "Thank you, Angel. I'll be right there." Despite herself, Monica felt a stir of arousal as she saw Angel turn to leave. Just as the females on the planet seem to be tiny, the men were huge by comparison. And, Monica hated to admit, she found the 18-year-old Angel cute and desirable. The young man is well-muscled and agile, his face able to express his feelings instantly. What am I thinking? Monica admonished herself. Cute as he is, Angel is a son of a criminal, not a VR action hero. My parents would disown me if I marry such a man. The last thing I need is to become ensnared by Angel's innocent charms. Radinov might use those feelings against me and Angel. With some effort, Monica turned off such unproductive thoughts and followed Angel to the dining room.

Captain's Log, September 21, 2441. Commander Paulette Eickhoff, commanding officer, reporting. We received potential good news from Ensign Babcock. He's confident that the antimatter plant can be safety reinitiated. This has to work the first time it's tried; if it fails, then our ship will remain crippled in power for the duration. The gravitic blockage at the Northwest Passage is still in force, and the pirates have moved in additional ships, even fortresses, to reinforce their guard. It is becoming more evident that the Stroud will be on its own. But how can one ship take on the whole of the pirate fleet?
    Down in Engineering, Babcock checked his readings for the forth time in a row. Every indication told him that the procedure should work. The feeling of forgetting something was gnawing at him, and it was that feeling that made him reluctant. In the midst of this woolgathering Babcock received a 'ware transmission from an unexpected source. Chief Ellis, is that you? the ensign asked.
    It sure is, son, Lt Commander Luanne Ellis, chief engineer of the Stroud, 'said' back. God snatched me from the brink to give you some advice.
    Anything, Chief. Captain Eickhoff is chomping at the bit to get the kettle boiling (The kettle, in naval parlance, refers to the main power plant of any ship or station).
    Babcock heard Ellis' mental sigh. Weylan has brought me up to speed, Ensign. It seems you have a lack of faith in your work. You've got the technical know-how, but not the gumption to commit yourself. Is that a fair evaluation?
    It is, Chief, Babcock replied in total clarity. So much is depending on my work here.
    Son, there are times when nothing more can be done but throw the switch and let the shit land where it may. If you don't follow through, then I'll drag myself down to Engineering and use your oil-stained carcass as the initiator fuel!
    No need for that, Chief. I'm going to throw the dice. Babcock terminated the link and accessed his control panel. "Engineering to Bridge, Babcock speaking."
    "This is the Captain," came the reply, "are you ready, Ensign?"
    "Aye Sir. Beginning initiation sequence in ten seconds." As he had practiced in his mind a thousand times before, Babcock entered commands into his panel. The count went by inexorably slow, each second a ring of doom in Babcock's ear. At zero the result of over 50 hours work was vindicated. The initiation went flawlessly, the power planet humming with life. Babcock was thanking himself when he saw something appear on his panel. "Dammit. I knew I forget something." Just as quickly the problem occurred it was ended by Babcock's commands.
    "Engineering, what's the problem?" Captain Eickhoff asked.
    "Energy bleed, Captain. The various systems were prepared to handle the sudden surge in power, except the cloak. I'm afraid we might've been spotted in that one instant the excess energy bled off into space."
    "Acknowledge. Bridge out." Eickhoff turned to her helmsman. "Mr Phad, any indication that the Barracuda picked up that energy bleed?"
    "We'll know in a moment, Captain." Phad replied. The main flat panel display showed the pirate frigate trailing the Stroud by a good 10 million kilometers. It was heading away from the ship for the past two hours. After two minutes of observation the frigate changed its course, heading for the general direction of the Stroud. Another distant pirate was also heading toward the Stroud's projected course.
    "Bugger me blue, Captain. What are we to do now?" Commander Weylan said.
    "It appears we can now use the contingency plan that Mr Mills thought up. Have him meet me in my ready room in 15 minutes. You have the bridge, Number One." Eickhoff got up and headed for the intra-ship car.
    "Aye Sir."

"Carson, how did you find the tour? Was it enlightening?" King Roger asked from his easy chair - an easy chair composed of two beanbag-sized breasts attached to a little woman's body.
    David Carson rested between two hyper-inflated mammaries. The woman attached to those massive charges, Lana, massaged David's shoulders and neck. The ensign expected to be treated to a pillow woman, and he found the experience enjoyable. David's mother and her friends told him about pillow women, especially Aunt Nadia. Like everyone else, David found it hard to image Nadia with giant lungs, but now he could appreciate what she went through. For Nadia, it was all in the line of duty, posing as a pillow woman on Cloud 9 to get the goods on mobsters. In contrast, the women employed by King Roger were taught at an early age what rolls they'll assume later on in life. Years of practice became second nature, as Lana moved her legs inward a bit, giving firmer support for David's huge frame.
    "King Roger, for a world made by pirates, I must say it doesn't look as such. If one didn't know any better, then any of your towns could've been right at home on any other world. Except, of course, for the tiny stature and ampleness of your women."
    Roger patted the tops of his pillow woman's breasts, making them quiver slightly. "Ensign, that was an honest a compliment I've gotten in a long time. My subjects are content, and our women are happy with their lives. All I ask is that they provide me with healthy sons to man my ships and beautiful women to work in my palace. There's no need for harsh treatment when the people gladly give of themselves to their leader."
    David nodded, unconsciously rubbing the tops of Lana's breasts. What Roger said did make sense, in a fashion. Aquarius was a world that provided the security, and secrecy, that all pirates craved. With that knowledge, King Roger's men could retire on huge estates and raise families. Pirate families are large, each man having two or three wives and at least eight children. With a ready supply of sons to man their ships, the pirates never worried about recruiting unreliable outsiders. With a firm support base under them and crews trained at an early age, the pirates from Aquarius are the best around. To be sure, there are other pirate clans, but none could match the skill and swiftness of the men from the Pirate Planet.
    "King Roger, your people are happy, but at what price? All the wealth I've seen has been stolen at blaster-point from innocent, hard-working people. Do your subjects know that their happiness and prosperity comes at the expense of others?"
    "Ah," Roger said, both in pleasure and expectation, "I was waiting for you to say that. I'm a pirate, that's true. We live for the adventure that is the universe. We must follow our chosen destiny to its end, whether that be death or opulence. The universe has too much wealth for its own good. My men are simply adjusting the balance."
    David pulled himself up a little, making Lana wince as he inadvertently pushed her breasts aside. He quickly gave a soft kiss to each breast in compensation, a tip he learned from Nadia. "Sir, that's what bandits and thieves throughout history had said about their work. Your world is nothing more than a huge tribe of technologically-adept barbarians. Only a veneer of civilization gives you the appearance of culture and order."
    Roger frowned, but then laughed a hearty laugh. "Oh, David, long have I wished for a man who could clearly see the world for what it is! By the virtue of the leadership displayed by me and my ancestors, my crews retain a sense of discipline and duty. If they didn't, then Aquarius' secrecy would've been compromised long ago."
    "Then it's a pity that such capable men are working for such a despicable profession," David said with conviction. He was deliberately testing King Roger, trying to make him slip up and expose the crude man that surely lurked under the surface. "Their wives and children may see them as heros, but their victims damn them with each breath they take."
    "David, why do you make such accusations? And here I thought it was your Mr Scranton that was the rude one. Your mind is tired and you need your rest. Mae-Mae," King Roger called. The pirate princess silently entered the room. She wore the same clothes as the servants, except the trim was gold instead of red. She also had the same jolly roger pendant, and on her head was a gold tiara adorned with gems and diamonds. "Mae-Mae, escort David to his room and serve him his supper." Roger turned back to the ensign. "I will see you tomorrow. I have yet to introduce you to my other two daughters. They would very much like to meet you."
    "Very well, King Roger. I have no choice but to agree. If they're as lively and generous as Mae-Mae here then I'll be delighted to know their company. Good night, Sire." David rose out of Lana's cleavage and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. Lana blushed appreciatively, resting her arms on top of her mounds. Mae-Mae lead David out of the room, leaving King Roger to his thoughts.
    David, could you be the one I'm looking for? Roger shifted a bit, his pillow woman accommodating his change in position. You have the attitude for command, and my successor must possess this trait. More importantly, I must have a legacy. Only by marrying  my eldest daughter and producing a male child will insure my dynasty's future. Tomorrow I'll know. My Kayla will seduce you, David, and then you'll be in my power. Roger laughed, making his pillow woman's bust jiggle in sympathy.
 

12

It was a dreary morning when the daughters and servants of Mistress Hollister assembled outside on the dew-covered grass. The eleven young women were wondering why the head of the estate wanted them up so early in the morning. It was scarcely dawn, the sun peeking over the distant tops of the Partition Mountains.
    The shivering girls saw Mr Scranton, now known officially as Gunny, approach. The big Marine wore a grey sweat-top and knee-length shorts. Around his thick neck he wore a whistle attached to a length of string, and a bright red baseball cap rested on his head. He held a clipboard in his left hand, swinging it back and forth to the cadence of his walk. He halted in front of the girls, looking at them with purpose. "Good morning, girls. I had Mistress Hollister assemble you here today so you can hear what I'm about to say."
    "What's that, Gunny?" asked Xala, her face showing genuine interest.
    Gunny donned a pair of sunnies, masking his emotive eyes. "Life, as you know it, is over. Hollister made a request of me. She asked that I train you girls so as to improve your chances to attract suitable husbands."
    A servant girl giggled. "Oh, so this is going to be lessons on bedroom bingo?" A few of her companions laughed.
    Gunny's voice clearly demonstrated his irritation. "There will be absolutely none of that. My training will deal with physical well-being and endurance. Looking at you girls is almost painful. You hardly have any muscle on those chicken wings you call arms."
    "We do have muscles, Gunny," Xala countered. "How else can we girls carry our charges without the use of bras?"
    "Xala, I did not give you permission to speak," Gunny said harshly, making Xala wince. "Drop and give me 10."
    "10 what?"
    "10 what, Sir. From now on every question you ask will end with the word Sir. You will answer every question I make either with 'Yes Sir', or 'No Sir'. Now, drop and give me 15 pushups."
    "Pushups? With these boobs? Gunny, you must be..."
    "Xala, now you have to do 30 pushups. You asked two questions without ending them with 'Sir'. And you're being insubordinate. Do those pushups now or else you'll do 40."
    Xala bit her tongue, stilling another protest. She knew she couldn't win, and Mistress Hollister would think of even worse punishments if she didn't obey. Without hesitation, Xala grabbed ground and tried to do her pushups. Tried was the key word. Her magnificent watermelons, held in check by a firm halter top, mashed into the ground and her ribs with equal attention. It looked like she had two small pillows cushioning her chest as she tried to push away the dirt under her hands.
    "What are you girls gawking at? Can't you see that your buddy needs help?" Gunny questioned the stunned girls, his voice ripping through them like barbed wire. "It's a damn shame to see a friend in need go down for the count while her friends stand by and do nothing. Pathetic."
    Some of the other girls gave in to their conscience and joined Xala on the ground. Their halter tops and slacks were made dirty in a short order. Gunny shifted his gaze to the girls still standing. "What is this? Some sort of individual squad? I'm glad you're not in my squad. I don't want an individual that's farting around while a hostile blows the shit outta me."
    The girls still standing then joined the rest on the ground. It was clear that they couldn't even do five pushups in a row. Their little arms were simply not up to the task. "Pathetic! I've seen pillow women do more push-ups than you wimps! I bet all of you lie around on your little rounded bottoms each day, eating your weight in sweets! You never exercise, depending on nanites to remove each new gram of fat that forms in your body." Gunny walked around the girls. If one tried to get back up, she was pushed down by Gunny's foot placed on her backside. "You're not girls; you're little Nora Nanites. You had nanites blow up your boobies, and your little girlie bodies are kept soft and weak by those same little buggers. Get up, all of you."
    The girls all got up weakly, their arms trembling from fatigue. "Disgraceful, all of you, getting your clothes dirty. I can't train girls who get dirty so easily. Strip down to your drawers."
    To a girl, the dirty lasses looked shocked. Xala found the words to speak. "Strip, Sir?"
    "Are you deaf as well as dumb? I can't have you girls running around in dirty clothes, and I want all of you wearing the same thing. Do it!" The girls complied, stripping down to their panties. "Thank God all of you were bright enough to wear knickers. We'll run five complete circuits of the estate. If any girl is allowed to fall behind then I'll double it to 10. Is that understood?"
    "Yes, Sir," said the girls with less than enthusiasm.
    Gunny placed a hand to one ear, acting as if he was trying to hear better. "What the Hell was that? Is that the best you little Nora Nanites can do? If your boobs were lungs then you could've been heard back on Terra. Say it like you mean it."
    "YES SIR!" the girls replied with more than enough conviction.
    "Well, I guess that will have to do for now. I will set the pace, and you will keep up. Understood?"
    "YES SIR!"
    Gunny turned to his left, keeping his head facing the girls. "On the order Run, you will fall in behind me and run."
    "YES SIR!"
    "Amazing; there could be hope for you Nora Nanites yet. Run!" Gunny left at what he considered a sedate pace. The girls thought it was an all-out dash. Keeping their busts secured with their arms, the girls were cursing Gunny under their breath as they followed the Marine around the perimeter of the estate.

It's a clear night at the Radinov estate. Monica sat out on the patio, gazing up at the ice ring. Even with the light reflected by the ring, Aquarian nights were still stygian. The edges of footpaths and walkways had lights built into them, safely guiding anyone who used them. At that particular moment one Angel Radinov walked down a path, heading right for Monica.
    The female ensign sighed. It seemed that Angel always found an excuse to check on her, and Monica wasn't the type of person to turn away good company. Angel pulled up a chair and sat next to Monica, gazing up at the ring also. "It's pretty, like a fine diamond necklace," Angel said. "Are you trying to find your ship up there?"
    "Angel, you have to be more subtle if you want to sweet-talk information from me." Monica swore she saw the embarrassment in Angel's eyes. "I was thinking of the events in my life that lead me to where I'm at now."
    "Care to share? I'll tell you about my life in return." Angel, like all eager young men, asked with genuine sincerity and innocence. "Why did you enlist in the Navy?"
    Monica's interested in what Angel has to say about his upbringing. Additionally, she wanted to tell her story to Angel; laying down the facts now will show Angel just where Monica stood on the subject of pirates and their acts. "Well, where shall I begin? My mother was one of the original Stroud Marines. Like the other female crewmembers, she was saddled with basketball breasts, all thanks to Mr Big's tampering of hundreds of birth-control implants with his ancient breast-enlarging potion. It was a hard first year for mom, getting use to her new size. But her discomfort was eased when she ran into the man that eventually became her husband." Monica giggled. "Dad's as sweet a man you could find, and his job as a tailor was a definite bonus for mom! My parents decided to have me after the destruction of Big's ship, the Heavenly Bosom."
    Angel nodded. "Yes, my father has told me about the Stroud. No other ship has caused more grief for King Roger than the 'Buxom Battleship'."
    "What a lively nickname, but I'm afraid it no longer applies," Monica offered. "None of the original crew remains in active service, and the current females on-board are not so endowed. But our tradition of fighting pirates remains intact." Monica noted the somber expression on Angel's face. "As a Marine, my mother had seen her fair share of boarding actions and fights against pirates. It was after one particularly vicious boarding action thirteen years ago that lead to my Mom's retirement. In an ambush, the Stroud crippled a pirate-captured freighter. A colony transport, really." Angel listened intently. He had the gut feeling what Monica was about to say next. "The pirates had laid several booby traps in the ship, including the one that destroyed my Mom's left arm. She was in powered armor and survived, refusing further medical treatment until the ship was secured."
    Monica took note of Angel's face, seeing the effect her story was having on the young man. "The ship was searched end-to-end, finishing off isolated pockets of resistance... and counting bodies. What the pirates had done to their captives made clear why they could only receive one sentence in any court of law - death. The captive men were simply killed where they stood, as were the boys. The women and girls... they were abused and violated first, then killed. The pirates believed that since they wouldn't live, then no-one else should. Before the Marines could stop them, the pirates deliberately exposed many of the ship's compartments to the vacuum of space. It was the sight of desiccated bodies that gave my mother nightmares that persist up to this day. It was that memory that made her leave the service."
    Angel's face worked in true compassion. "Monica, I must..."
    "Let me finish, Angel. As a ten-year-old girl I wasn't supposed to hear of such things, but one night mother had a flashback. I watched as dad calmed her down, all the while mom was yelling out orders and obscenities to phantom squad members. After settling down, my mom decided to tell me what happened on that ship, sparing no details." Monica exhaled, resuming after taking a substantial breath. "It was then I decided that I was going to join the Navy, with the intent to fight pirates and hunt them down to extinction. I studied and exercised while the other girls played with dolls, talk about boys and went on dates. My parents tried to dissuade me, but once they knew I wasn't going to change my mind they gave their full support instead. So, after 10 years of steady work and devotion I find myself as an unexpected guest of the Pirate King." Monica rubbed her eyes; she wanted to see what Angel had to say.
    "Monica," Angel said clearly, "you've spoken from your heart tonight. I'm afraid what I have to say will only land on deaf ears. Words from the son of a pirate captain certainly won't be taken seriously by you. Later, perhaps, if you're in need of a laugh, I'll tell you my life story. Good night, ma'am."
    Angel got up and left, leaving Monica to her thoughts. It appears I was on the mark, the ensign mused. Angel knows where he stands with me now. But why does he continue with that innocent act? Does he truly don't know what he's getting into? Monica laid her hands over her heart, feeling the rhythmic pulse. Angel, I hope you understand. Don't follow the path your ancestors had chosen. Enough families have lost fine young sons. Please have the courage to make your own life, not blindly go and do what father tells you to do. With eyes already heavy with sleep, Monica slumped in her chair and spent the rest of the night under the ever-present ring in the sky.
 

13

"Status, Mr Basil."
    The Stroud's sensor officer looked up from his panels. "The Barracuda is still holding station 2 million kilometers behind us, Captain. The random energy bleeds has kept it on the right track."
    Captain Eickhoff nodded. "Thank you, Mr Basil." Next, she faced her first officer. "Mr Weylan, going by standard pirate practice, is it reasonable to assume there are several cloaked ships out there, waiting for the right time to attack?"
    "It is, Captain. We're making it easy for them, after all."
    "And the easier it is the better. Mr Phad, enter flight plan alpha-charlie two. I want a better look at their asteroid resource base." Eickhoff settled back into her command chair.
    Mr Phad worked his panel. "Aye, Captain. ETA to Asteroid Cluster 2 is three days, six hours at current speed."
    "Thank you, Mr Phad."

David Carson checked his face in the mirror for any missed whiskers, the razor in his right hand ready to remove any offending follicle. Finding none, David secured his shaving supplies and waited for Isabelle to arrive. The palace servant was punctual, knocking firmly on the twin doors. David opened the doors to his quarters, looking down at the servant.
    Isabelle bowed at the waist. "Ensign Carson, Princesses Nancy and Kayla are ready to receive you. Please follow me to their quarters."
    "As if I had any other pressing engagements on my social calendar. Lead the way, my most ample provider." David said with flourish, laying on his Outback accent like a thick steak sauce. Little Isabelle had to laugh, her considerable assets jiggling in sympathy.
    "Mr Carson, if your jokes make me laugh any harder then my halter top will explode! Please, save some of your wit for Princess Kayla. You should see her when she laughs!" Turning, Isabelle went down the hallway with one curious David behind her.
    Well, I  certainly want to see this Kayla, David mused. Perhaps she does explode out of her top when she laughs! The trip through the palace halls took David to the West Wing, an area that he hadn't visited yet. The walls were ornately covered with paintings, portraits, and the occasional mirror. Isabelle came to a stop in front of a huge set of double-doors, pressing a button that was part of the doors' decoration.
    "Princesses Nancy and Kayla, your guest has arrived." The servant said with civility.
    "Please, show him in, Isabelle." David heard the reply. The voice was pleasant and certain, as any princesses' voice should be. Isabelle pushed in the doors and motioning David to go in. The young man did so, walking far enough in so that Isabelle could close the doors behind him. The royal quarters were huge, the entry alone was large enough to serve as a one-bedroom apartment.
    A pleasant-looking young woman stepped around a corner. Honey-brown hair spilled over her shoulders, her deep blue eyes looked like pieces of sky at sunset. Like the servants, the woman wore slacks and a halter top, but the colors were yellow with red trim. On her head she wore a tiara identical to Mae-Mae's, the gold shiny in the light.
    Similar to the other women David has seen, the princess was tiny, hardly 148cm tall. She bowed at the neck. "Ensign Carson, I'm Princess Nancy. My sister is waiting in the living room. Please follow."
    "I'll be delighted, your royal highness." Well, she wasn't the one talking over the speaker, David concluded. The ensign also noticed that in addition to her height, Princess Nancy did share another characteristic that all Aquarian women had in common: a watermelon bust. David hazard a guess that all Aquarian women had a bust-to-height (BH) ratio of 1, the same as Angelican women. In combination with their height, clothing needs for Aquarian women must've been quite simple and economical, since they practically had the same bust size.
    David followed Nancy further into the royal living quarters. Once he got a clear view the ensign came to a sudden halt. Not believing his eyes, he rubbed them clear. David even blinked loudly, accepting the fact that the woman resting before him was real in every practical sense of the word.
    Princess Kayla had gold-colored hair that, like her sister's, spilled over her silky-soft shoulders. Her eyes were sparkling hazel, resting on a face that can inspire men to fight distant wars to protect her. As for the rest of her body... it could only be described if her breasts weren't in the way. Swallowing hard, David pondered that if Nancy and Mae-Mae had BH ratios of 1, then Kayla easily has a BH ratio of 3, if not 3.5. By comparison, pillow women have bust measurements that are 2.5 times greater than their height. If Kayla wanted to show that she's the biggest woman on the planet, then this was it.
    Kayla raised her delicate arms and rested them on her massiveness, her hands two-thirds of a meter short of reaching her front. "Ensign Carson, please forgive me. I wanted to tell you about my considerable charms," Kayla giggled, "but that would mean missing that surprized look you have now." She rubbed the parts of her breasts she could reach, making David feel a little bit anxious. Resting on a pillow woman was one thing, but this!  "Oh, you're probably wondering about my size. Let me put your mind at rest. My standing height is 152cm, and my bust measurement is 610cm, making me the biggest woman on Aquarius."
    610cm, David thought carefully, then that'll give her a BH ratio of 4! In the old measure that 20 feet of bosom on a 5-foot body! God in Heaven! "Princess, it was worth the surprize. Your lovely face is compensation enough for making my heart race."
    "Ensign, you're as modest as you're tall," Kayla said, her voice as comforting as an angel. "Please, sit before me and tell me all about yourself. I'll gladly answer any questions you may have."
    "I will do so, Princess. But I have a request of my own. Can you cover your considerable size while we speak? No distraction should be allowed to interfer with my story."
    Kayla giggled, making her immense breasts shimmy with delight. "Ensign..."
    "You may call me David, your royal highness."
    "And you may call me Kayla. I will comply with your request, David. I certainly don't want you to experience any more discomfort. Nancy, fetch my favorite blanket and bring drinks. We will be here for some time."
    "As you wish, elder sister."

King Roger sipped some morning coffee as he gazed eastward to the Jamaican Ocean, some 20 kilometers distant. Roger saw the daily flight of near-gulls make for the beach, intent on getting their breakfast of red crab. Roger was about to eat some red crab himself when he spied Mr Baker. Roger wiped his mouth and waited for the impeccably, but inappropriately, dressed man.
    Mr Axel Baker was the president of the Disciples of Big, a criminal organization that formed after the reported death of Mr Big. Reported, because the Disciples believed in Big's immortality, even though he's lost forever in the depths of space. Populated with the remnants of BCCI and crime lord wannabes, the Disciples of Big, popularly known as the Dobbers, vowed to carry on Big's vision of criminal excellence and cardinal tastes. Mr Baker, dressed in an expensive business suit that shouted excess from each stitch, came before Roger and rested on one knee. Baker has a well-worn face, just like the man he idolized, and his hair was well on its way to become a dull silver. "King Roger, I must have a word with you."
    "Mr Baker, why is it that each conversation with you has to be treated with such urgency?" Roger yawned, settling his weary eyes on Baker's expectant ones. "Can't you see what a lovely morning this is? And do stand up before you ruin your kneecaps."
    "Kneecaps are the least of my concerns," Baker replied as he brushed off imaginary dirt from his left pants leg. "Only now have I found out the identities of the three people you captured. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
    "Ah. I wanted to see that face you have now. Keep it up and that scowl will stay forever."
    "King Roger! This isn't the time for jokes!" Baker fumed. "David Carson is the son of Amber Carson, the woman most responsible for Big's disappearance!"
    Bemused, Roger sipped some coffee. "Baker, it was Mrs Lynnae Jarvis that had thrown your beloved Big into the void. Perhaps it has to do with something else?" Roger's question went unanswered, so he provided a response of his own. "I believe it had to do with the fact that Mrs Carson beat the living crap out of Big the four times they encountered each other. Tell me if I'm wrong."
    "You're correct, Sire. But the Dobbers have their official history to contend with, not to mention their pride." Baker looked possessed. "That damnable duo, Wilcox and Parlor, we could live with, seeing how their ancestors and Big often encountered each other. But Amber, that hyper-pixie, assaulted our Paramount Leader with more force and in less time than anyone has ever done in centuries. Her son clearly has her courage, strength, and fortitude. He must be killed, now, so as to remove him as a threat."
    "Threat? Mr Baker, you're letting your hatred of Mr Carson cloud your judgement." Roger stood up, making his tall stature prominent. "David is my guest, my prized guest. If your associates take any action against David, then I shall be very displeased." Roger's smile was that of a hungry predator. "Is that understood?"
    "It is, Sire," Baker replied with clear conviction.
    Roger walked over to the patio railing, looking on as the seabird flew towards the distant beach. "How much progress has your project achieved, Mr Baker?"
    The Dobber actually looked happy. "Excellent progress, King Roger! My scientists and technicians have made their first prototype. It's rifle-sized, and it only has enough internal power for one shot. However, my men are even now working on making a handgun-sized projector that can fired several times with a D-cell battery."
    "You Dobbers are anything if not inventive," Roger said over his shoulder. "Are you eager to get those BE-rayguns into the hands of every anxious 15-year-old boy you can find?"
    "Is it that obvious?" Baker said after a light chuckle. "We will succeed and make Big's dream come true. It will be a testament to his criminal genius."
    Roger nodded, looking back at the horizon. Yes, that will be a fitting tribute to one of my family's greatest benefactors, he thought. Now, what have I done for my guests? For Scranton, he'll provide Mistress Hollister companionship and service for the rest of her life. David will be seduced by my most ample, and eligible, daughter Kayla. In time, David will be made my successor, providing me with legitimate grandchildren to continue the rule of my family. As for Leutze... "Baker, you said that you've made a prototype BE-Rifle. Have you tried it out yet?"
    "My people are going to try it on a volunteer this morning," Baker replied.
    "Mr Baker, I know of a woman who'll make a perfect test subject. Yes, Ensign Monica Leutze will have the honor of having the first BE-ray-enhanced breasts the universe has seen in over 24 years."
 

14

While it may have been sunny and bright for King Roger this morning, it was dreary and dim for the young women living in the Hollister estate. Gunny silently approved what he saw as he approached the waiting girls. To a stitch, the girls wore black-and-silver shorts with matching sports bras. Their feet were adorned with black sneakers and they had black baseball caps on their heads.
    "God in Heaven," Gunny exclaimed sarcastically, "looks like a chorus line in a Bloomers restaurant! Who made those melon carriers you're wearing?"
    "WE DID, SIR!" The women replied.
    "Sell me a biscuit! You girls can actually sew pieces of cloth? God in Heaven, they're maybe hope for you girls after all."
    "YES SIR!"
    Gunny wrote on his clipboard and spoke like a drill instructor. "Now it's time to try out the integrity of those sports bras. A confidence course has been constructed on the estate. This course will help you find the courage that resides deep within you. The course is hard, it can hurt you, and you will curse me every moment you're on it. But, in the end, you will have access to a reservoir of strength that will see you through the darkest hour. Do I make myself clear?"
    "YES SIR!"
    "Alright! Commander Xala, front and center!" The little woman stepped out of ranks, placing herself exactly two meters in front of Gunny. "Xala, take command of the squad and march to the southeast training area. Once there, I will demonstrate the workings of the course."
    "Yes, Gunny." Xala replied promptly. Gunny watched as Xala did an about-face and barked out the appropriate orders. After three days of training the girls were beginning to function as a group. Gunny was glad that the girls could tell their right foot (or is that breast) from their left. The squad make it to the course more-or-less intact, though their dress and cover was definitely in need of repair.
    "All right, you bunch of Bubble Bettys," Gunny roared. "You will see how a man handles this course. When you're doing this course, I will be thoroughly surprized if half of you can complete it. Do you want to prove me wrong?"
    "YES SIR!" The girls yelled as one.
    "What was that? Sounded like a bushbear with asthma."
    "YES SIR!" The girls yelled louder.
    "I heard something that time. Now watch me." Gunny handed his clipboard and cap to Xala. The old Marine assaulted the course with energy that belied his age. The girls gawked as Gunny went through the course in what had to be record time. Obstacle after obstacle was conquered, with Gunny gaining speed all the time. The last hurdle, the rope swing, saw the sergeant-major yelling like Tarzan as he landed on his two feet, pounding his chest in triumph.
    The girls went next. If there's ever to be another tri-dee comedy on basic training, then the Hollister Girls are the natural shoe-ins. Every conceivable object that could be tripped over was tripped over, including their obscured feet. The wall climb was especially hilarious, with breast after breast being smushed up against the wooden wall. The hand-over-hand carry had its moments too, with each arm thrown forward the associated boob threaten to escape from the sports bras.It was just as well the girls couldn't see their feet, sparing them the terror of knowing that they were five meters in the air.
    The barbed-wire crawl, the tire hoops, the pyramid assault, the plank crossing. There were falls, missteps, and collisions. Even cursing. However, to a girl, the course was completed. Gunny eyed the girls critically. All of them were filthy: their sports bras ruined, exposing much of their nicked-up lungs. One girl held her torn-up shorts together with both hands.
    Gunny spoke in a parody of a drill instructor. "Nikki, why are you holding up your shorts? Are you wearing panties?"
    "No Sir!" said Nikki, the 15-year-old daughter of Mistress Hollister.
    "Why are you not wearing the regulation undergarment?"
    "I believed it wasn't necessary, Sir!" Nikki replied with the required honesty.
    "I-I-I! There's that 'I' word again!" Gunny said more seriously. "Until you girls can show me that you can work as a team, you will be known as the Individual Squad. Now, get your Individual bodies to the showers and change into fresh workout clothes. Next on your training will be self-defense techniques. Xala! Move these Individuals before I puke!"
    "Yes Gunny!" Xala ordered her 'men' back to the showers. The girls cleaned up and traded even more insults about 'Geezer-Gut Gunny'.

The Radinov Estate conducted its morning routine. The lawns were tended, the near-gulls feed with breadcrumbs, and the flower beds inspected for bore beetles. Monica watched from her bedroom balcony as Angel groomed a sable-colored horse outside the stables. The ensign had seen Angel demonstrate many skills, but she never expected him to be a horse rider. It made Monica sad to think that Angel would rather be a pirate than to find his own calling in life.
    "Mind if I join you?" Monica was startled, turning to find Mr Radinov behind her. "I'm sorry to have surprized you. I should've knocked."
    Monica waved off the apology. "That's okay, Mr Radinov. It's your house and you're entitled to do what you want."
    "It is my house, true, but even I must follow some rules." Radinov joined Monica at the balcony railing. "Angel still likes you very much, Miss Leutze. Your story has put his adoration in perspective, but now he's much more determined to win your heart."
    "Mr Radinov, Angel is indeed a sweet boy and would make a fine man... as long as he doesn't have to kill people in the process." Monica made Radinov look her in the eye. "The time for piracy has long past. You and your friends are nothing more than a criminal gang that just so happens to have their own planet. You've turned a haphazard profession into a crime empire second only to the mob. Angel and other young men like him deserve something better than to become the next generation of space killers and rapists."
    Radinov held Monica's slim hands. It was a firm but gentle hold. "Monica, what you said is what all the mothers and wives on Aquarius have said before. But us pig-headed males refused to listen, and now it will cost us. Your navy won't give up now. The Northwest Passage is blocked, true, but that means we can't get out. No ships can enter or leave, and we dare not turn the gravitic generators off. Your navy would come in overwhelming force and destroy us."
    Monica squeezed Radinov's hands. "Then why doesn't King Roger surrender? His wealth will be meaningless if he can't stay in contact with his criminal buddies."
    "I don't know," Radinov offered, "but I do know this. Roger is determined and ruthless. He killed his own brothers in a duel to decide who'll inherit the throne. And his will is always done." The pirate captain looked sadly into Monica's eyes. "King Roger has sent you to me as a reward for my years of service, but that's not all. He has ordered me to have Angel make you his wife."
    "What? That's stupid!" Monica protested. "I'm not a trinket that's given out absent-mindedly. As for being made Angel's wife.... Sir, your boy is desirable, but I'll be the one to choose which man to marry."
    "Monica, much more is at stake here than you realize," Radinov said on the verge of pleading. "My daughters, and those of other highly-placed pirate captains, work at the palace. They work there to insure the loyalty and service of their fathers. That's why no pirate from Aquarius has ever broken ranks and fled."
    Monica nodded. "You mean they're hostages to your good behavior. A trick that the ancient Romans and current mobsters would've approved of."
    "Yes. But for me there are other extenuating circumstances. Angel must be married before he turns 19. He's my only son, the direct inheritor of my estate and fortune. If he has no wife, then by Aquarian law my wealth and property are ceded to King Roger." Radinov sighed, letting Monica comprehend what he said. She nodded, letting Radinov know that he should continue. "Additionally, me and Roger are not on the best of terms. I've done something that has caused enmity to arise between myself and the King. He would like nothing more than to strip me of my lands, wealth... and family."
    "Sir, that's a sob story if I ever heard one. What's to prevent me from not helping?"
    "Nothing, but know this, Monica," Radinov said, letting go of Monica's hands. "After my lands are taken away, so will it be with you. The King will hand you to another captain, one who has no qualms about treating you badly. Be thankful that you were given to me; some of my associates are the proverbial bastards. You must agree that, for a pirate, I have manners."
    Monica giggled. "Mr Radinov, 800 years ago you would've made a perfect gentleman pirate. Oh," the ensign said, seeing a limousine approaching the main gate, "looks like you got company."
    "Not just any company, my fair lass," Radinov quickly added. "That's a limousine from the Palace. One of Roger's favorites. Care to come and see who it might be?"
    "Certainly. It might be David and Gunny in that limo." Monica followed Radinov down to the main entrance. The servants opened the decorative doors, allowing the duo to exit. The counter-gravity vehicle had already past the gate and parked in front of the residence. The passenger door opened.
    "Daddy! I'm home!" Exclaimed a particularly beautiful young woman. Her halter top worked overtime to control her bust as she jaunted over to Radinov.
    "Isabelle! You're as radiant as ever." Radinov picked up his daughter and hugged her. He then placed her down and messed up her hair.
    "Dad! Stop that!" Isabelle laughed.
    "Okay, pumpkin. Just wanted to see if you grew any," Radinov beamed.
    "Daddy, I haven't grown since I was 15. That was five years ago and you still treat me like a girl," Isabelle said past a playful pout.
    "Izzy, you'll always be my little princess. Now, what brings you here? Your shift at the palace doesn't end until next week."
    Isabelle corrected her halter top. "King Roger ordered me to bring a special guest here. It's Mr Baker, and he has something..."
    "Something wonderful!" Baker interrupted. Monica looked at the man; he certainly was the epitome of a well-dressed crime lord. "Radinov, the King has granted me the choice of picking the first test subject for my breast-enlargement project. It is none other than your guest, Ensign Leutze."
    Monica's wetware heard the words breast-enlargement. Data files, previously unaccessible, were made available to the ensign. She gave them a brief glance; at that moment she knew the Stroud's mission was much more than just locating the Pirate Planet. "Mr Baker, would this project be related to Mr Big's infamous breast beam?"
    "Ah-Ha!" Baker barked in triumph. "Finding the Pirate Planet wasn't the only item in the Navy's agenda! You're trying to suppress the tool that will give men what they always wanted: instant breast gratification!" Baker ducked out of sight momentarily, then reappeared with a beam rifle in his hand. Unconsciously, Monica sought Radinov's protection, going so far as using him as a shield.
    "Mr Baker," Radinov demanded, "why is it necessary to use the ensign as your guinea pig? The women at the palace would make more suitable subjects."
    Baker grinned wickedly. "Yes, about the Palace. The King did agree that any woman at the palace would've done just fine. Any woman." The crime lord savored the look of resigned comprehension on Radinov's face.
    Radinov looked down at Monica, his face filled with genuine regret. "Monica, remember what I said earlier about the King? His command must be obeyed."
    Monica nodded her consent. "Don't worry, Mr Radinov. I won't hold this against you. Mr Baker," said the ensign, "I'm ready to go with you."
    "That's unnecessary, Leutze. I have the beam projector right here!" Baker lovingly coddled the beam rifle. "It's a miracle my men were able to make this lovely little tool in so short a time."
    "Then let's get this over with." Monica boldly stepped away from Radinov, placing her hands on her hips. "Just how big are you going to make me?"
    "That's what this test is all about: determining the amount of breast growth that can be obtained with one D-cell battery." Baker leveled the comical-looking weapon at Leutze. "Say Cheese!"
    Monica gave Baker the bird in stereo. Grinning in the face of such an insult, the crime lord pulled the trigger. There was no visible beam, but Monica felt instant warmth in her chest. Then it began. Her shapely E-cup top pushed out and round, filling out to basketballs in an eyeblink. Blouse buttons popped off in accelerated haste, the bra pushed out of the confines of the fabric. The bra had hardly touched ground when Monica's lungs surpassed beachball size, going past her thighs. The ensign winced in pain, her knees buckling under the relentless growing weight on her front. Her arms and hands were unequal to the task of supporting her mass, the flesh pushing aside their minuscule efforts.
    "Damn, it's outta juice already," Baker lamented. The battery was utterly drained, but what the beam wrought was worth the effort. Monica was on her knees, her beanbag breasts preventing her from standing up. Baker consulted a minicomp, smiling like the Devil. "Hot Damn! It's a keeper! Leutze, you now have a BH ratio of 2.5, the same as a pillow woman. Yes!"
    2.5, Monica thought worriedly. That makes my bust measurement 4 meters even! She yelped as she tried another attempt to stand, but her new mass was way too much for her current strength to handle. "Mr Baker, you've proven the genius of your criminal mind. Can you give back my dignity and restore my breasts to normal?"
    "No can do, Leutze. Orders from the King himself." Baker tossed the minicomp to Radinov. The tall pirate caught the device and read the message. "Go on, Captain Radinov. Miss Leutze will need to know."
    On the verge of crushing the device, Radinov read off the King's words. "'Ensign Monica Leutze will remain at her augmented size as long as she remains single. Her bust will only be reduced once she is married to Angel Radinov, son of Karl Radinov. Any attempt to reduce her bust beforehand, or having nanites make her breasts lighter, will be viewed as a violation of the King's Word'."
    Monica was properly incensed. "Baker, I would've had you tell King Roger to go to Hell, but he already has a summer palace there. How am I supposed to get around? Brought any native porters with you?"
    "Ouch! My ears are burning from you caustic wit!" Baker playfully rubbed his earlobes. "King Roger is merciful, and has anticipated your needs." Ducking into the limo, Baker came back up with a package. Walking with flair, he placed it on top of Monica's breasts. "There you go, my ample maiden. In the box is an anti-gravity bra, complete with one extra powercell and recharging set. I would like to help you put it on, but I must get back to the palace and tell King Roger the excellent news. Toodles!"
    The Dobber entered the limo, only waiting for Isabelle to get back in. The daughter of Radinov looked up at her father. "Dad, will you be okay?"
    Radinov bent down and hugged her daughter. "I will, pumpkin. Remember what I said to you earlier. Now it's best for you to go back."
    Isabelle kissed her father on the cheek and reentered the limo. The counter-gravity drive powered up, and the black vehicle quietly left the estate. By this time Radinov's wives and Daisy had come out of the mansion. They saw their guest still kneeling on the ground, crying softly into her enormous new mass of flesh.
 

15

David looked out from Kayla's balcony. The sky shown early afternoon, decorated with wispy cirrus that marched to the east. Behind the tall ensign was Kayla, resting on a custom-made antigrav platform. Actually, it's her bust being supported by the platform. The princess herself stood up, her bottom cushioned by a memory-plastic stool. "David, please come back inside. I want to hear more about your life."
    "What is there to tell? I've already spoken about my family and friends." David walked back into Kayla's quarters, leaning up against a support column.
    "Tell me why you chose to join the navy. Considering your background and family history, you could've been a great police officer." Kayla spoke with innocence; no hint of sarcasm could've been uttered from that mouth.
    "Everyone expected that of me, including my mother." David shifted feet. "But I didn't want to become a cop. What could've been done was done. I would've been nothing more that a walking brick, busting up badguys with the slightest effort."
    "I've heard of your mother. The Dobbers keep ranting how they'll get their revenge on her. It's the fear of joining their beloved Big in the depths of space that prevents them from trying." The princess caressed a section of breasts out of habit. "Did you join the navy to express your desire to make your own life?"
    "For a girl that's 90% breasts you have a deductive mind." David grinned while Kayla had a light chuckle. That was enough to make her blanket-covered mounds to quiver in delight. "At first, my parents opposed my decision to attend the Naval Academy. They had a family friend, Samantha Eddings, come over and try to dissuade me."
    "What did she say?"
    David looked at Kayla's face, admiring her gentile hazel eyes. "Samantha was one of the original Stroud crewmembers, making it up the ranks to where she was the first officer by the time I was 8. Then there was that battle. The Stroud was ambushed by 8 pirate destroyers. It seemed that the ship was doing too much damage to the pirates' way of living, so they decided to correct the problem." The young man shifted feet again. "Captain Pavone wielded his ship like a sword, striking down his enemies. Then, after the first four destroyers were vinced, the pirates scored several hits past the shields. The bridge was wiped out, leaving Samantha in command down in auxiliary control. That section was hit too, and she lost a leg and sustained a host of lesser injuries."
    Kayla looked sad. Clearly no-one had ever told her such an unhappy story before. "Continue."
    "Aunt Sam stayed conscious long enough to see to the destruction of the remaining pirates. A full 25% of the crew were casualties, and the ship was badly damaged. It was a miracle that the Stroud managed to limp back to Outback. The ship was easily fixed, but Samantha had enough. She retired, got herself a new leg, and, with her husband Tobias, started to make a family. She'll have her fourth kid in time for Christmas."
    "Samantha wanted to show that being in the navy is dangerous," Kayla concluded. "She wanted you to stay safe."
    David nodded. "Aunt Sam still has nightmares about the battle. Only now is she able to put that experience behind her. Raising a family is her way of honoring her fallen crewmates' memory. Her children are reaffirmations of life and love." David stood up and walked over to Kayla, standing by her side and looking down at her expectant face. "Samantha wanted to see if I was still sure about my decision. After her story I was even more determined to join the navy. I wanted to do my part to rid the universe of pirates and their ilk. When my parents understood that, they went ahead and supported my decision. Even Aunt Sam helped out. But now," David sighed, "seeing where I've ended up, I wished I had become a cop."
    Kayla reached out and held one of David's massive palms. "Well, now I know that I'm not alone where stubbornness is concerned. All children must sooner or later make a break from their parents. You had the navy; I have my bosom." Kayla patted the upper slope of her right breast with her free hand. "I'll spare you the embarrassment of asking why my breasts are so big. You're aching to know, aren't you? Don't deny it."
    "Princess," David blushed thoroughly, "your abruptness belies your sweet disposition. Please explain, but I also want to know the reason for your subjects' ampleness. Is it truly a product of this world, or is it a tradition similar to that of the Angelicans?"
    "You shall know in good time. Please, take a seat in front of me." Kayla waited while David stepped around her immenseness. There was a chair, but sitting down would leave David unable to see her face. "Don't worry, David, the chair is made of memory plastic. It'll raise you to the proper height so you can see me clearly."
    "Talk about an elevating story," David said with unintentional wit. The chair did rise, allowing the ensign a clear view of Kayla's face.
    Kayla laced her fingers and rested them on her ocean of flesh. "As you observed, David, the women on this world are quite small. Though there are medical techniques to coax the body to add a few more centimeters of height, the people here decided not to do that. Instead, to make up their lack of height, our women had nanite injections. Whereas Angelican women have big bosoms to prove their health and love, our women consider their new charges as a right-of-passage. When a girl reaches the age of 15, she is given a nanite injection and becomes a responsible member of society."
    "Then how do you explain yourself?" David questioned, motioning to Kayla's front. "How did your mother react when you decided to get breasts that big?"
    The princess looked a little forlorn. "My mother, the queen, died shortly after giving birth to Mae-Mae. I'm told that I'm stubborn and willful just like my mother, and my father didn't had the heart to refuse my request. Six months after my 15th birthday I was graced with the bosom I have now."
    "At the risk of sounding rude, I bet you felt like they weren't growing fast enough." David's playful grin was matched by Kayla's own smiling visage.
    "David, at times I wished I could will my bust to expand. But I kept myself occupied. While I waited to fill out, my father modified my room, especially my bathroom. A custom memory plastic toilet and skin-care device insure my sanitary needs were met. Anti-grav plates allowed me to move about on my own feet in my room. Outside I have to use this platform."
    "Don't you ever miss being able to run, much less walk?" David said sincerely. "Nanites are no substitute for exercises."
    Kayla giggled again, making another minor fleshquake. "Oh, but I do exercise. Nanites are in me, true, but father has made exercise equipment to accommodate my mass." David's stomach rumbled, and he covered it in embarrassment. Kayla was surprized. "Oh dear. All this talking has made me lose track of time. I'll have lunch serve to us immediately. I apologize; I should've been thinking of your needs."
    "Thank you, Kayla. I forgot about lunch, but my stomach certainly didn't. You should hear it when I forget dinner!"
    The princess had a hardy laugh, making the blanket fall off her breasts. David had the presence of mind to pick up that blanket and place it back on Kayla. It made him feel easier knowing that Kayla had a modicum of coverage.
 

16

Ship's Log. September 27, 2441. Bernard Danks, captain of the Lasso, reporting. For almost a week my ship has tracked the cloaked CSN cruiser. Apparently there's an uncorrectable fault in the cruiser's cloaking device. We've been able to follow it and place several other units ahead of it's projected course. Currently, the cruiser is in the primary asteroid resource cluster. Command will certainly have us stop the cruiser before it could potentially harm our processing station.
    On the bridge of the Lasso, Captain Danks observed his flat-panel display tracking the movement of the CSN ship. It had to be a supremely confident, or foolish, man in charge of that cruiser. He had to know his ship was being tracked, defiantly staying to one course. Now it's time to catch that man. "Comm, inform the Highwayman to activate the tachyon projectors and stand ready with tractor beams. It's time to reel in our catch."
    "Aye, Sir."
    Along the plotted course of the cruiser, planted on asteroids and buoys, were tachyon projectors. A cloaking field will lose its integrity after being hit by several such beams. A whole network of projectors came on-line and fired at the general location of the cruiser. A flair as bright as a sun was displayed on Danks' repeater plot. "Got'em! Drag them in, Gregor!"
    The pirate heavy cruiser Highwayman, commanded by Danks' friend Gregor, lanced out with three tractor beams. It really only needed one. Danks' face scowled in dismay and hate as his plot showed him the true story. "Dammit! That friggin' thing is a decoy! King Roger will have my head for this!"
    For the past six days the Lasso had followed one of the Stroud's decoys. The size of a pinnace, the decoy could mimic the energy and gravitic emissions of the ship that carried it, even right down to the cloaking device. Danks used such decoys before, both to confuse trackers and as ruses. The pirate captain consoled himself, knowing that it would take a much bigger screw-up to bring the King's wrath on his head.
    "Captain," the comm officer said, "Gregor is drawing in the decoy. He's letting you have the honor of the kill."
    Danks snapped his fingers in revelation. "Comm, inform Gregor not to take that decoy aboard! Have him destroy it!"
    It was too late. The decoy was five kilometers away from the Highwayman; well past the protective reach of the ship's drive field, allowing the full destructive force of the decoy's payload to be felt. Captain Eickhoff wanted the decoy to take out the pirate's asteroid processing station, but a heavy cruiser would do just fine. A four-megaton antimatter warhead exploded; there was hardly any trace of the Highwayman to be found afterwards.
    Danks saw his career, and possibly his life, flash before his eyes. Someone will be blamed, and Danks knew it would be him.

"There you go, Monica. Does that feel better?" Uma, one of Radinov's wives, applied some oil to the ensign's massive left breast.
    Resting on a huge bed in an equally large master bedroom, Monica's being treated with tender care by Radinov's family. Also in the room was Nina, Radinov's other wife, and Daisy. "Ohhh. So much better," said Monica sincerely. "By this time next week I'll have enough callouses on my lungs to line the feet of an elephant."
    "Monica! I'll let no such thing happen to such lovely breasts," Uma teased. "You're getting the knack of wearing that AG bra, and Nina is almost done with that silk lining."
    "I wouldn't need such a thing if Baker had given me watermelon lungs," Monica said in true annoyance. "I appreciate your help, but I prefer to put on my clothes without assistance."
    "I hear you, dear." Nina checked the AG bra's power level before placing it back on the recharging post. "Such things are a necessary evil. Not all pillow women want to sit around all day. We like to take walks as well."
    "We?" Monica questioned.
    Nina blushed. "Years ago, when I was a fair lass, my front was tasked to carry a pair of breasts just like yours. I was a pillow woman at the Palace. One day a certain rascal named Karl Radinov made use of my services. He slept like a babe on my bosom, and I knew then that he wanted me forever."
    "But you're much smaller now. Were you afraid of smothering him?"
    "Monica!" Nina laughed. "Don't you known that pirates can never be drowned? It is their lust for gold and women that make them so hard to extinguish. If you think your breasts are heavy now, just wait until they fill with milk! That's why I had my bust reduced to a much more manageable size."
    "Manageable," Monica lamented, "and here I thought that an E-cup was manageable, but this..." She patted the sides of her breasts. "Having to use a sponge on a stick to reach all of me is not my idea of manageable."
    Daisy offered Monica a drink, complete with an extra-long straw. It's a sturdy glass of lollywater with plenty of ice. "Thank you, Daisy. You're an angel."
    "No, it's my brother that's an Angel." Daisy laughed at her own bad joke. "He's been aching to see you, but he doesn't have the courage to ask."
    Uma stood up and looked at the door. "But he has enough courage to act like a peeping tom. Angel, you may come in now." The door opened, Angel standing there as guilty as day. "You've been avoiding Monica long enough. It's time for you to accept that Monica will be like this for the foreseeable future. Now, come over here and talk to her. Me and the girls will give you privacy. Nina, Daisy."
    The trio of women departed, leaving Angel and Monica alone to settle their feelings about each other. Seeing the boy's apprehension, Monica took the initiative. "Come over here and sit down. The only way I'm going to hurt you is if you allow me to fall on you."
    Angel grinned, sheepishly sitting next to Monica. He couldn't help but notice the quivering of the breasts with each breath Monica took. "I'm glad to see you're healthy," the boy said with chutzpa.
    "Healthy?" Monica beamed. "I have enough health for 10 horses!" The following laughter threaten to send her right breast off the bed. Angel prevented that, his mature hands pushing the offending flesh back on the bed. "Thank you. That felt good; was it the same for you?"
    "Monica!" Angel blushed heavily. "What do you think?"
    "I can practically hear your lusting heart from here, Angel." Monica giggled. Then she turned serious. "Me and your dad had a talk a few days ago. He told me about the situation between him and King Roger."
    "Then you know what I think. No, that's what everyone else assumes I'm thinking." Angel held Monica's right hand with both of his. Monica's hands knew work as well, but she felt Angel's soft touch just the same. "If I could, King Roger would now be in Hell for what he did to you. He thinks its funny, making you weak and helpless. The King is laughing out his side, making my father dance to the tune he plays."
    "Angel..."
    "Wait. Let me finish. I have to say it now before I lose courage. From the moment I saw you I was in love. You have a strength of spirit and gentleness of heart that I want very much to see in my wife."
    "Angel, I'm touched. And that's not a pun." Monica grinned warmly. "I'm in the most damnable set of circumstances a person could ever be in. If I say yes, then I'll be lost to everyone I've known. If no, then your family will be made to suffer. And you have such a sweet family."
    "For a bunch of pirates?" Angel offered.
    Monica nodded. "Well, you definitely have better manners than some infamous mobster families!"
    The duo laughed, and Angel kissed Monica's hand. He held her gaze with equal care. "I believe it's only fair that you should know more about me before making such a critical decision. Do you still want to hear about my childhood?"
    "I don't have anything else lined up for tonight." Monica placed Angel's hand onto her breast. "You go right ahead and talk. You'll know right away if your action-drenched prose is too much for my delicate constitution."
    "Monica..." Angel said in playful exasperation.
 

17

The daily routine at the palace was fairly busy. Lawns were mowed and watered, bushes tended, and flower beds checked for weeds and bugs. Such necessary chores gave the illusion of peace, but there's no peace in the hearts of some men. Below the main courtyard was a bunker made to withstand anything short of an all-out nuclear attack. King Roger held a meeting with his fellow chief captains. The captains were all dressed in shipsuits, each adorned with what they considered their top prizes. One had a gold necklace, another a goose egg sized diamond. Roger himself had a trio of green rubies embedded into his suit. The news of the Highwayman's destruction was like petrol thrown on a fire, but so far only the highest in Aquarian government knew. And a suitable cover story had already been made.
    Captain Potts snorted when he read the story. "King Roger, I'm afraid that the people just won't accept another antimatter containment failure this time. They still remember the Viceroy. Rumors will flow."
    Roger stared down Potts, making the shorter man hunker down into his chair. "Potts, the people will rumor all they want. I would rather have them speak in hushed tones than stay silent. As long as they talk they'll take no action against me. Now, gentlemen," Roger addressed the other men in the room, "it's time to consider what we shall do."
    Nichols, a well-worn veteran of hundreds of raids and captures, spoke the only way he could speak: loudly. "I say we redouble our efforts to find the Stroud! Get it before it gets us!"
    "Nichols, we're already doing that," said Fuchs, another captain. "The shipyard is cranking out as many high-powered surveillance sats as it can. In three weeks we'll have a shell that'll extend our scanning range out to 10 light-minutes."
    "Three weeks?" Nichols said. "I, for one, will not wait while those Navy pukes are still running free."
    Roger cleared his throat, the other men looked at him with purpose. "The Stroud is like a fly in a bottle. Eventually, the fly will die from a lack of food. They will come to this world, probably make an attempt to land. But they will find this world ready to receive them."
    Potts paled, as did the other men around the table. "King Roger, you're not suggesting we use Plan-A?" From where he sat, Potts swore he saw Roger's eyes turn black, like those of a doll... or the Devil.
    Roger's smile was fit for a ghoul. "We knew it would come to this. Eventually, the navy will find a way into the Ink Spot. When they do, however, they will only find an empty world. We'll be long gone, settled on a new world far away from the navy's reach."
    Fuchs pounded the table. "But that's assuming we have the time, King Roger. If we leave now, we can only take 4% of the population with us. We'll be abandoning the rest to the mercy of Commonwealth justice."
    "And again I say it's a matter of time," Roger stated. "After the satellites are deployed I'll order the shipyard to produce freighters and personnel transports. Once the Stroud is eliminated, we can start moving our people out as conditions permit. If worse comes to worse, we'll take as many people as we can in the ships we have available. Of course, you all want to bring along your treasures, for gold has no need of food and drink." The captains nodded; they knew where their true priorities lay. "The Back Door will provide our escape route. We will find another remote planet and start over. In our profession, only the most ruthless deserve to live."
    Roger stood up, straighten his shipsuit. "The search for the Stroud will continue, as will the deployment of the satellites. Remember, gentlemen, appearances have to be maintained."

It was late afternoon when Gunny decided to take a break and accept a cold can of beer from Rebecca Hollister. While the Marine took occasional sips, the girls, now dressed in shorts and oversized T-shirts, played a game of volleyball. Xala acted as the referee, complete with game whistle and cap.
    Rebecca took a swig from her can, watching the game with bemused eyes. "My girls are improving, Gunny. Now when they refer to you as 'asshole', it's out of affection, not an insult."
    "Just as long as they respect me. That's all that really matters," Gunny said. "I see that your part of the training is going nicely. Now those girls can make clothes that won't fall apart every time they sneeze."
    "They better have learned," Rebecca mused. "I could've sworn they were using their hands as pin cushions. Rest assured, the profanity was flying for a good time."
    Gunny nodded, watching as one team set up and deliver a powerful serve. "They're not so bad. Hell, my own kids were worse. I can whip up a bunch of raw recruits into killers in 12 weeks. But when it comes to my own kids..." Gunny shrugged. "Well, my wife had to raise and discipline them. I was too much of a softy. Had to be, considering how often I was out on deployment."
    "Me and your wife do have something in common, Gunny." Rebecca watched the game also, her girls and servants enjoying themselves. "We had to assume many roles while our men were gone. A doctor when the kids get colds, a barber for haircuts, a teacher to instruct them." Sighing, Rebecca place a hand on one of Gunny's. "Sometimes I wonder if I did my job right."
    "Don't sweat it, Rebecca." Gunny held Rebecca's slim and delicate little hand. "You did better than most. My job would've been that much harder if the girls didn't have the basic level of discipline and manners."
    "One does what one can, Gunny."
 

18

Captain's Log, October 4, 2441. Commander Paulette Eickhoff, commanding officer, reporting. Mr Mill's booby-trapped decoy had done its work. The pirates have intensified their search, but their pattern is well away from our true location. The Stroud has now closed to within 50 million kilometers of the Pirate Planet. I had one of our stealth drones take station 10,000 kilometers from the planet. Using the satellite chain, we're now able to visually survey the planet on a continuous basis. So far we've seen numerous small towns and an extensive array of private lands. Next will be surveillance of the only large population center on the planet. A structure, apparently the Pirate King's palace, has been found and will receive extra attention. Perhaps we'll have the good luck of seeing our missing crewmates there, enjoying the hospitality of the Pirate King.
    In her ready room Captain Eickhoff observed the 'live' video feed coming from the stealth drone orbiting the planet. It look the laser-beam signal almost three minutes to reach the Stroud. If a person was patient, and had the time, they can search and observe to their heart's content. Eickhoff did have the time, and being a captain of a CSN ship requires a degree of patience.
    Eickhoff looked at a building dubbed by her first officer as The Palace. The building was a huge octagon with a central courtyard. Four extensions came for the building, one each at the cardinal points. At the end of each extension was a tall tower, adorned in caps that had to be made of gold. Eickhoff knew that was only a trifle compared to the treasures that where surely inside the Palace.
    Remembering something, Eickhoff entered a command into her viewer. Going back two minutes in the recording, the captain then zoomed in one section of the image. A moment later she was rewarded with an overhead view of a rather large pillow woman resting on an immaculate green lawn. The woman was applying what had to be suntan oil to her breasts, but it was painfully clear she couldn't hope to cover her breasts all by herself. Then a man appeared, carrying a towel. Seeing the woman's plight, the man helped the woman apply the oil.
    Eickhoff was about to switch to another location, but her mind fixated on the man. His blonde hair was familiar, as was his obvious large size. Then the man looked up at the sky. Eickhoff froze the image and zoomed in even more, the computer adjusting and clarifying the image. The captain's look of surprize was priceless, realizing that it was Ensign David Carson's face gazing up to the heavens. Well, Mr Carson, Eickhoff thought amusingly, it appears you have the situation well in hand!

"David, can you help me?" Princess Kayla said warmly. "I need to get my breasts covered with this oil. Otherwise my beautiful flesh will be sorely tested by the sun's rays."
    "Coming, my most ample princess." David, with towel in hand, went over to the princess' aid. A week had past, and in that time David and Kayla got to know each other. David had to admit that for a woman of her size and position Kayla was as bright and lively a person one could find. Her knowledge of ancient art, including that of Japanese cartoonists, would insure her a job as a museum curator. David still wondered why such a spirited woman would let herself be practically immobilized by giant breasts. In a way, Kayla acted the same way the old monarchs did. She had enormous breasts because she could afford them. With her sisters and servants at her call, Kayla could literally rest on her bosom while the world revolved around her. David's glad that Kayla chose big breasts over other much more wasteful signs of wealth, like gaudy rings and giant collections of shoes and clothes.
    On her part, Kayla liked what she saw in David. Not only was he big and strong, David lacked the pretentiousness that afflicted most of the sons of pirate captains. Plus, David isn't totally fazed by Kayla's immense size. The other boys could hardly hold their hands, wanting to knead Kayla's flesh. On the other hand, David was raised in an environment that didn't make a big deal about breasts. A lady with a big chest was just that, though a sincere compliment about her bust wouldl earn you brownie points (giggle). That, along with David's manners and wit, made the ensign good company. And Kayla liked David's company.
    David poured some suntan oil in his hands. After gazing briefly up into the clear sky, the ensign applied his hands to Kayla's left breast. In a deliberate and confident manner, David worked on that breast, giving it a complete covering in oil. Kayla's face was wrapped in pleasure as David moved to the front, applying fresh oil and massaging the nipple.
    "For a big girl, your majesty, you have rather small nips." David said clearly. "May I ask why that is the case?"
    Kayla giggled, making David's hands shake in sympathy with the flesh underneath. "David, though my breasts are proud, they would've been rude with oversized nipples. Big nipples would've detracted from the rounded, full beauty of my flesh. The nanites made them small. I'd say they complement my charms quite nicely."
    "Kayla, I'm not the one to argue about your charms. A man would have to be a fool not to recognize them as such."
    "David, are you trying to flatter me?" Kayla asked as David moved to the right breast. "If so, please keep it up. You'll need it tonight."
    "You're going to have me read poetry to you?" David grinned, rubbing the top of the breast.
    Kayla wore her innocent smile. "I would very much like you to do that, David. In fact, it's time for you to change quarters. From this day on, you'll be residing in my chambers."
    David stopped, blushing hard and mouth open. "Your Majesty, is that proper?"
    "It is my decision. You have proven yourself mature enough to remain in my presence. I will let you know when our relationship requires you to sleep in the same room with me!"
    "Of course, I can't say no." David had a pouting look. "Not after all the time we've already spent together. Are you doing this to endure me to your father?"
    Kayla reached out and held David's hand. "Yes. This way I'm letting father know that I found my man. This is also for your safety. You'll be even more safe once people know you have my full confidence."
    "Kayla, you have already earned my confidence. If I must stay here forever, I want to spend all my time with you."
    "Thank you, David." The princess let go of David's hand, resting her dainty palm on her flesh. "Please, finish with the oil. The sun is relentless."
    "Your wish is my command, princess."

There was no throne room per-se in the Palace. King Roger had a large office instead, complete with wet bar and a bay window that commanded an excellent view of the northwest. Roger looked out the window, mind locked in contemplation. David and Kayla are getting along nicely, Roger told himself. My daughter is pure innocence; David cannot help but be captivated by her beauty. I can practically hear my grandson now! Just a few more weeks and my dynasty will be assured.
    A resounding knock came from the rich wood door of the office. A servant entered and bowed. "King Roger, Mr Baker has arrived."
    "Thank you, Janine. Send him in." Roger went back to his desk, opening a box and withdrawing two genuine Havana Blend cigars. "Ah, Mr Baker. I understand congratulations are in order." He held out one of the cigars. "I believe this will suffice for now."
    Baker walked up to Roger, accepting the cigar. "Thank you, King Roger. The tests have met my expectations. We've enlarged six women in our testing, restoring five of them to normal. Ensign Leutze had no adverse effects, and is adjusting well to her new size." Baker halted long enough to get his cigar going, drawing in several good puffs. "With your facilities and my organization no female breast shall be safe from the BE-Ray."
    "This has to be the pinnacle moment of your career." Roger took a long draw from his stogie. "Are you going to celebrate it in an appropriate matter?"
    Baker's smile was fit for a schoolboy. "Yes, King Roger. There'll be a celebration the likes of which hasn't been seen in years. In two days the first production batch of BE-Rifles will be completed. We'll have a grand party, with me giving a speech on the future of the Disciples of Big. It will be an exercise in criminal lust and greed!" Baker rubbed his hands. "Can you provide women for the party, King Roger? I'm sure my men would love to try out those rifles for themselves."
    "Yes, that is an excellent idea." Roger took a draw and exhaled, the smoke surrounding his head. For the briefest instant his eyes flashed red. "I'll have some of my captains join as well. It promises to be fun."
 

19

Monica did the best she could to relax in the bath, but her back ached terribly. Earlier in the day Mr Baker showed up, and he wasn't alone. Three of Baker's BE-Ray scientists inspected Monica, taking measurements and readings. They kept her standing up most of the time, and even with an anti-gravity bra the strain was immense. Then came the indignity of removing the bra. Pinned to the ground by her mass, Monica nevertheless wished she could crush the cold hands of the men that felt her up. Radinov was there, unable to intervene due to the orders of the King. Just the same, Monica sensed Radinov's desire to strangle Baker and his cronies.
    Daisy poked her head through the bathroom doorway, smiling her sweet smile. "Hi there! Just checking to see if you're done. Uma and Nina are ready to help move you to the bedroom."
    "I'm not quite ready, Daisy." Monica extended the sponge rod by 20 centimeters, enabling her to wipe her front. "My back is still killing me. Can you be a dear and fetch some massaging lotion?"
    "Sure can, Monica. I'll fix up that back in no-time!" Daisy sprinted off, leaving Monica to finish her bath. The ensign had to rely on touch and sensation to guide the sponge, unable to see her work first-hand. She had to be careful about her nipples; wiping them too long would cause an avalanche of pleasure that can last for minutes.
    Monica sighed and rested on her breasts. She wished that her wetware was fully functional, but the King was still not taking chances. A damping field still prevented the ensign from remotely manipulating computers and machinery. Even if she could touch those machines, highly doubtful in her current size, Monica's signals were still useless. The other functions of her 'ware were not impaired, however. She spent an occasional hour 'watching' movies or experiencing one of her VR novels. The heroines of those stories always found a way to work with their displacements, Monica thought as her hands worked on the flesh before her, so why can't I do the same?
    Just then a pair of strong hands worked on Monica's back. She ummed and awed in relief, her muscles finally getting the attention they deserved. "A little lower please," Monica requested. The hands complied, giving her lower back special attention. "Just keep your hands off my bum. We're not at that stage yet... Angel." Monica turned, glimpsing Angel's guilty face.
    "How did you know it was me?" Angel moved his hands to Monica's shoulders.
    "It couldn't have been Daisy. I can recognize those callouses anytime. I bet you give wonderful massages for your mothers."
    "You're right." Angel kissed the bottom of Monica's neck. "All boys on Aquarius are taught at an early age to do this service. Our mothers may be strong, but they appreciate the occasional massage."
    "I certainly appreciate this massage," Monica chimed. "Since you're already here, you might as well dry me off and help me back to my room."
    Angel worked on Monica's waist, feeling the firmness of her skin. "As your masseuse, I must insist on a longer session. Your strength training has left you in the need for specialized care. I'd say 15 more minutes should be adequate."
    "15 minutes is just fine. Long enough for DAISY to get my panty." Monica looked at the doorway, observing Daisy as she tried to cover her guilty face. "It appears we have a peeping tomboy. Daisy, be a proper girl and retrieve my panty... and close the door!"
    "Yes, ma'am!" Daisy went to do her bidding, letting Monica and Angel savor each other's gentle attention.

David tried to find a firm spot on the mattress. For such a large bed there should've been such a spot. No such luck. Before becoming the big woman she was now Kayla slept on a soft bed that was fit for a princess. David preferred a firmer bed; the current mattress was yielding the David's 110 kilos. Deciding that he had enough, the ensign took a blanket and pillow and rolled onto the floor. He found the carpeting much more to his liking, propping the smooth pillow underneath his head.
    Just when David found peace he was disturbed by the sound of thunder. Lighting spilled into the bedroom and right into his eyes. Grumbling, David got up and went to the windows. It was raining, the wind driving the downpour hard against the windows. David was searching for the shade control when he heard a soft cry. It came from the main living area, which also served as Kayla's bedroom.
    David dismissed the first cry, believing it to be a reflex action on Kayla's part. A second and then a third louder cry convinced the ensign to take a better look. Opening the door, David entered the room with care. The gravity in the living area was set to 25%, allowing Kayla to sleep more restfully.
    The princess was definitely not sleeping restfully. In her specially made bed, built into the floor of the room, Kayla's in the midst of a nightmare. Her cries became rapid and filled with urgency. With energy born of out of fear, Kayla tried to push her breasts away. The vigor of her attempt made David suspect that Kayla will end up with bruises on her flesh.
    A resounding thunderclap caused Kayla to produce a wail fit for a banshee. David saw Kayla's wet face, her throat working out sobs. With genuine care the Ensign got next to Kayla, seeing that she was now awake. "What was troubling your sleep?"
    Kayla wiped her face, trying to remove evidence of her emotional display. "It was just a bad dream... made more terrible by the thunder."
    "It had to be a rather bad dream, Kayla." David pushed away the hair over Kayla's eyes. "Do you want me to stay?"
    "Yes. You can sit behind me; there's room." Kayla pressed a hidden button. The back support moved, making room for David to sit. The big ensign moved in behind, settling down and putting his legs under Kayla's breasts. The princess herself was now on David's lap, her midsection wrapped in the protection of David's arms.
    "Care to tell me about it?" David worked his arms around Kayla, his hands resting on her belly. The sensation of her breasts resting up against his forearms and hands was unusual, but pleasant.
    The princess cleared her eyes and drew in a breath, calming herself. "I was in a room; smoke and fire was everywhere. A man with a whip chased me, his eyes red from hate." Kayla trembled a bit; David gently hugged her in reply. "The man kept cracking his whip, trying to catch me. He got closer and closer. Then I tripped." Kayla moved her hands, placing them on top of David's. She felt the warmth of her bosom that David was experiencing. "The man stood over me, raising his whip. That was when I screamed."
    David planted a kiss on Kayla's cheek. "There now. No more bad dreams for you tonight. I've banished them."
    "Thank you, David." Kayla rested her head on David's chest. "Please stay here for the remainder of the night. I want assurance that my bad dream will not come back."
    "It won't. It'll have to get past me first. And nothing gets past me. Sleep well, my princess." David kissed Kayla's shoulder. The soft, silky skin was as pleasant as he expected, and more. Kayla closed her eyes, keeping her hands on top of David's. The big man himself slowly went to sleep, his heartbeat in sync with that of his charge.
 

20

Gunny wrote on his clipboard. Before him were the girls. Correction - Iron Squad. The Irons have improved yet again, showing that they were more than a gaggle of individuals. Gunny agreed, letting the girls pick a name for themselves. They even had a guidon. The small red flag bore the image of a white bra. On the bra was the number 144 in black lettering. The number was the average bust size (and height in centimeters) of the Irons.
    October 5, 2441, Gunny thought as he continued writing, Now it's time for the girls to demonstrate their hand-to-hand combat skills. With cool eyes, the old Marine looked at the Irons. "Alright, you bunch of iron-backed frauleins, it's time to put you to the test."
    "YES SIR!" The Irons replied as one.
    Gunny grinned, placing his clipboard on the ground next to him. "Your hand-to-hand combat skills are an important part of your training. Not only do they improve your health and stamina, your confidence will be elevated as well. I will now test that confidence." The Marine moved a bit closer to the squad. "I see that you've put considerable effort into the clothes you're wearing now. What I'm about to do will certainly cause you some consternation. See this as an opportunity to mend clothes after a fight. Now, who'll challenge me?"
    The Irons are all dressed in skirts and laced-trimmed blouses. Practical, calf-high dress boots are on each leg and a red scarf around each neck. The women weren't concerned about their clothes getting messed up. "Gunny," Xala, the squad commander, said, "no disrespect, but what's the wisdom of attacking you? You're way bigger and stronger than all of Iron Squad put together."
    "Horse Hockey!" Gunny growled. "You won't be attacking me. I'll play the part of a typical pirate, returning after a long deployment. And what do pirates want when they return home? I'll tell you! Xala, front and center!"
    The little woman stepped forward, her simple earrings glinting in the light. Gunny sized up the potential pugilist before him. "Having fought pirates since I was a young snot, I made it a point to know what they like. Two things, ladies, just two things occupy the mind of a pirate when he's on shore leave: liquor and women. Now, I'm playing the part of such a pirate. I've been gone two years. After landfall, I went straight for the nearest bar and drowned myself in booze. Then, my stoched-up mind tells me to find a woman. After two years in space, any woman would do. I stagger out of the bar, looking for any Betty Bubble that crosses my path." Gunny leered at Xala, making her blush. "I'm obnoxious, I'm horny, and I won't take no for an answer. I'm going to impose myself on you, Xala. Will you defend yourself?"
    To Gunny's shock the squad yelled as one and bum-rushed him. Knocked to the ground, the Marine was pinned under the combined efforts of the squad. Two women were on each limb with Xala kneeling on his chest. She had to push her bust out of the way so Gunny could see her face. "Gunny," the little imp said, "that may be true elsewhere, but on Aquarius women never walk alone. Besides, any man that commits rape here is subject to 100 lashes, and to-date no man has survived to the end of those lashes."
    "Well," Gunny wheezed, "I see this place has laws after all. If you're done making your point, please get off of me. You're just as bad as my wife."
    Xala complied, and the squad released him. Gunny was in genuine pain. The Irons had indeed proven their strength, but their enthusiasm was excessive. "Irons, you've did a number on my carcass. Mistress Hollister will now have to tend to my aches and bumps. Xala, get the squad changed into workout suits. You will conduct the squad in standard exercises followed by hand-to-hand combat drills. Carry on."
    "Yes Gunny," Xala sounded off. The little woman had her squad fall in and march back to their rooms. Gunny limped towards the main patio. Rebecca was watching this morning. She was a bit concerned and amused at what happened to her guest.
    Gunny laid his carcass in a chair, lowering the back to ease the pain in posterior. Rebecca had to giggle. "Gunny, it seems the girls had finally gotten their revenge on you for the past two weeks. Does your pride need to be salved as well as your joints?"
    "Rebecca, did you star in any tri-dee sitcoms?" Gunny groaned as he worked on an elbow. "Those women sure do pack a wallop. Felt like my arms and legs were being flatten."
    "Didn't expect such little things to be quite that strong? After all, we Aquarian woman have to be strong, and it's much more than back muscles."
    "Then you and my wife have another thing in common. She has to live with the fact that I could die in the next engagement. She has the courage and will to go on, knowing that I won't be around forever." Gunny grinned, flashing his whites. "So, every time I come back it's like I've returned from the dead! The only thing stronger than a Marine is the wife of a Marine. If you don't believe me, I'll show you the marks on my chest where my wife squeezed the breath out of me!"
    "And like any husband of an Aquarian woman, you're insufferable." Rebecca massaged Gunny's arms and legs, working out the pain that resided in them.

Lt Mills went through his presentation in his head one last time. He's addressing the command staff and wanted to sound his best. The officers in the briefing room placed their critical eye on Mills, waiting for his words. "The orbital survey of the planet has been completed," Mills spoke out. "In combination with the data gathered from the pinnace, there's at least half-a-million people on the planet. The continent has a modest transportation network connecting the various towns. The only major city has a spaceport and some heavy industry."
    Mills manipulated a tri-dee projector on the conference table. "The situation on our side of the Northwest Passage remains the same. Our exit point is now guarded by 4 6-million ton fortresses and thousands of hyper-capable mines. The gravitic generators remain on-line, so their reaction mass reserves must be considerable. At least six Brigand-class heavy cruisers have been observed keeping station with the fortresses, and I assume several more ships are in cloak at all times."
    The tri-dee image changed again, displaying the orbital traffic above the planet. "There's no fortresses in orbit. However, a single 8-million ton space station has been found. It's rather small, but the pirates don't need the yard capacity of Jadestone either. There are three enclosed construction berths, two open-space repair berths, and 45 standard docking tubes and support pylons. The whole menagerie of ships classes are here as well: Piranha corvettes, Barracuda frigates, Shark destroyers, Orca cruisers, Brigand heavy cruisers, Raven light carriers, and Enforcer battle cruisers. There are several freighters and customized ships, but three of them deserve special attention."
    An image of a battleship replaced the station on the tri-dee. Commander Weylan worked her jaw. "That looks like one of the old Kirov-class battleships."
    Mills nodded. "It is. That ship use to be the Barham. The pirates hijacked her from the Jadestone Fleet Base 102 years ago. We know the pirates have used her for special ops, like the raid on the Ungerd system five years ago. This ship has been modified, mainly with additional secondary beam mounts. Now, take a look at these guys." The image wavered, focusing on a pair of large ships. "At first, I though they were nothing more than 200K freighters. They look the part. Until they performed a power test..." The imager displayed the energy readings of the two vessels.
    Ensign Nate Babcock, acting Chief Engineer, gasped. "Mighty! Those things are superdreadnaughts!"
    "That they are, Ensign," Mills confirmed. "They're at least 240K, 40,000 tons more than a regular SD. But their weapon layout is virtually the same as a Mount Hood. I surmise the extra tonnage is cargo space, perhaps even repair facilities. The pirates probably use these two as portable repair bases and cargo collection points. Their armament is such that only another SD could stand toe-to-toe with them. Again, this would explain how the pirates were able to operate in areas were we methodically destroyed their bases."
    Captain Eickhoff grunted. "Thank you, Mr Mills. Friends," the captain stated, "as you've seen, the pirates built their own little navy. Thankfully, not all of it's here. If the pirates have a deployment schedule similar to ours, then we're looking at least 40% of their forces. There's 45 ships in orbit now, exclusive of the ships still looking for us and those supporting the fortresses."
    Lt Elvaz looked worried. "Captain, are we going to attack? We had our hands full with those corvettes, but with all that hardware the pirate can throw at us..."
    "Mr Elvaz, the odds may be daunting, but we mustn't let hesitancy cripple us." Eickhoff held her officers' gaze. "Let me say it again. We're not locked in here with them; they're locked in here with us. The pirates are continuing to deploy scan sats, not realizing that we're already inside their assumed safe area. Their alert status will have to drop sometime, going back to their regular routine." The captain stood up. "Additionally, they haven't seen what our weapons can really do in a fight. But even with that in our favor, our efforts will come to naught unless Mr Carson can contact us. He's alive, and apparently a good guest of the King, judging by the luxuries bestowed upon him."
    Some of the officers smirked. They have seen the footage of David sharing some sun with an oversized pillow woman. Truly, one must be highly valued to be allowed use of such a lady. Eickhoff's voice removed the involuntary mental giggles. "Carson has the ball now. Once he has access to any communication equipment he'll know what to do. That is, what his 'ware will inform him what to do."

The morning bath for Princess Kayla was like all others. Well, it wasn't a bath per-se; it was more like a sponge bath, with Kayla instead of a baby being the center of attention. Her sisters, Mae-Mae and Nancy, helped make sure that Kayla got her skin cleaned. Like her sleeping, the bath was at low gravity, allowing Mae-Mae and Nancy to literally hold up a breast while they sponged and dried the skin. Despite what the nanites did, Kayla's still ticklish, especially under the breasts. The duo often tickled their elder sister into submission, making her talk. It was no different this morning.
    "Stop that!" Kayla laughed out. "Let me catch my breath!"
    Nancy stopped her merciless exercise. "Now, tell us about you and David. You had him sleep with you last night. A bit aggressive on your part, yes?"
    "It's not what you think! Stop!" Kayla giggled, this time in response of Mae-Mae's attention to Kayla's equally-ticklish feet.
    "We had to practically crowbar him off you," Mae-Mae teased, tickling Kayla's especially sensitive left foot. "Dozens of boys would love to wrap their arms around that slim waist of yours."
    Kayla pounded the floor with her fists, trying to quell her tickling-induced laughter. "You mean those boys would love to be suffocated by my lungs! That was the furthest thing in David's mind! Peace!" Mae-Mae and Nancy stopped, returning the beleaguered feet and breasts to the ground.
    "Tell us, tell us," the tickling duo demanded.
    Kayla worked her cheeks, removing the effects of giggles and laughs. "That storm last night was intense, especially the thunder. I had that bad dream again. David heard my cries and comforted me."
    "Oh, Kayla," Mae-Mae said with true regret, eyes sad. "Me and Nancy didn't consider that possibility. Forgive?"
    Kayla motioned to her sisters to come forward. She gave them partial hugs, holding them down to her breasts. "Forgiven. To have you know, David's just as gentle as he's big. He banished the terror that was in my soul, letting me sleep in peace. It was as if God sent an angel in my time of need."
    "Speaking of angels," Nancy said, rising from the ample expanse of Kayla's bosom, "Angel Radinov has really made advances with that Ensign Leutze. I heard it all from Isabelle just an hour ago. What to hear it?"
    "Yes, Nancy. After finishing here, go fetch my standard slacks and shoes. David will want to hear this too. He's still concerned about the welfare of his two friends."
 

21

The central, octagonal-shaped courtyard of the palace was in readiness. The celebration of the Dobber's practical BE-Ray Rifle could commence in earnest. Pirate captains and Dobbers alike made for the banquet tables. Servants in their trademark slacks and halter tops dispensed drinks and cigars to the men. The rising murmur of conversation was only stilled when Isabelle Radinov, daughter of Karl Radinov, activated a podium mic. "Gentlemen, please rise in respect for King Roger."
    Everyone rose. Roger stood behind the podium, his huge hands lightly holding the sides. "Gentlemen! It is indeed a great pleasure to have you here tonight. Thanks to our facilities, and the brilliant minds of the Disciples of Big, we now possess the ability to impose our will on women everywhere! Gentlemen, I now give you Mr Axel Baker, President of the Disciples of Big!"
    The crowd clapped. Roger yielded the microphone to Baker. The aged criminal lord looked out upon his associates. His thin smile was but a fraction of the joy inside. "Gentlemen! Throughout history man has made many advances. All the fields of human endeavor were expanded... except crime!" The audience roared, Baker raising his hands to invoke silence. "Now, the glorious vision of our immortal Paramount Leader, Mr Big, can be realized." His hands gesturing, Baker invoked his siren song, mesmerizing his audience. "Women everywhere will now be made equal - in bust size! For us, the Dobbers, we can have any woman we want. If her breasts are too small, as is the case for most women," Baker paused as some of his audience chuckled, "her deficiency can be readily corrected! In time, women will tire of having reduction nanites injected into them. They will keep their massive new charges forever! 'Carrying it all before her' will be the next catch phrase!"
    The crowd roared again. Baker basked in the adulation. "Gentlemen! The Dobbers won't be alone in this endeavor of breast expansion! Our friends, the Pirates of Aquarius, shall share in our good fortune. The BE-Ray will insure that, from now on, navy ships will only have men aboard. Rapidly expanding breasts in the tight quarters of a ship just don't mix!" The pirates in audience yelled and hooted. "If a female passenger refuses to hand over her jewels, just expand her boobies and take what you will. Hold entire colony worlds and outposts hostage to the threat of impractically-large breasts! The universe is our oyster, gentlemen! Bra cups will overflow with flesh and wealth! Now, for the salute!" Baker held out his hands, ready to cop a feel of phantom breasts. His friends did likewise. "Glom!"
    "Glom!" The audience roared back.
    "Excellent! Now it's time to serve the feast!"

David looked on with disgust at the tri-dee imager. By use of a remote control unit, Kayla enabled a camera in the courtyard. For her, it's another party that daddy was having. David saw it as a historical turning point in perversion.
    "This is a sad day for humanity." David lamented.
    Kayla's nose wrinkled in dismay. "How could it be a sad day? Now women can be as big as they want."
    Turning his back to the courtyard image, David focused his attention on Kayla's face. "No, princess. Criminals and perverts like the Dobbers will make women as big as they want. I'll be a whole new crime for the books - involuntary breast expansion. Women will now go through life knowing that, at any moment, their breasts can grow to unmanageable proportions."
    "David, I seriously believe that won't happen. Just as science made the ray, then a defense will be found to counter it."
    "But for how long, Princess, how long until such a defense is made, if ever? How many millions of women will lose their independence and dignity to that BE-Ray? What happened to Monica was just a foretaste."
    "Well," Kayla replied in a huff, "according to Isabelle, your Miss Leutze has adjusted quite well to her new size. She and Angel are getting along swimmingly."
    "That is no excuse for what was inflicted upon her, princess." David's face heated up, as it always did when he spoke about something he cared about very much. David was present when Mae-Mae and Nancy told Kayla about Monica's expansion. To say David was displeased is putting it mildly. "Monica is a lively, spirited young woman. That bastard Baker took away her dignity when he inflated her breasts like so many balloons! Oh," David snapped his fingers, "why am I talking to you about dignity? You gave away yours years ago. Your father's friends must get their kicks gazing at your breasts."
    "David! I'm insulted!" Kayla was hurt by David's words. Part of her knew, somehow, that David spoke the truth. Her pride and standing as a princess is being questioned, and she had to respond. "I decided what I wanted years ago. This is what I've always dreamed about." She pressed her hands into the soft, yielding flesh of her breasts. "My choice was reasonable, and people fully respect my condition."
    "Condition? You consider your bust as a condition and not an endowment? You're big because you can afford to be. Imagine the hardship families will go through, trying to cope when their mothers and sisters are unable to take care of themselves."
    "Ensign, another insult about my size and you'll end up in the cells. My father will be so disappointed, but I refuse to listen to any more insults." Kayla felt indignant. No-one had ever questioned her choices before. She certainly didn't expect David to throw dispersions at her.
    "Then I'll speak none, Princess. I have said my peace." David ignored Kayla until he reached the entrance to this bedroom. "Think over what I said tonight. I don't want to see you go down in history as the daughter of the man who inflated the breasts of millions of women."
    Kayla's gaze tried to burn a hole into the bedroom door. She knew she was acting irrationally, but her wounded pride wanted some satisfaction. Kayla turned her attention back to the tri-dee. Watching daddy's friends becoming drunk and making fools of themselves would go a long way to make the princess feel happy.

Two hours into the party had all the guests drunk to varying degrees. The servants refilled glasses and mugs alike, moving like mice amongst the inebriated fat cats. King Roger was lively and boisterous, singing with his men and downing glass after glass of genuine pirate rotgut. Then, in accordance with tradition, the King stood up to address his men. "Now, it is time for the entertainment. I propose that we see for ourselves the magic that is the BE-Ray. You agree?"
    Roger's suggestion was greeted with affirmative ayes and burps. "Mr Bay-ker," Roger slurred, "break out those beams and batteries. It's time for fun! Guards, bring in the acquisitions!"
    A door opened, allowing a line of women to enter the courtyard. They were captives from the Alpine Star, still wearing the same clothes they had on when captured. The term 'acquisition' is a pirate euphemism for slave labor. Particularly beautiful women were chosen as wives, with the rest banished to work in the fields forever. The women in this group haven't been separated yet, but in a moment they will have one thing in common.
    Roger selected some of his men, having them stand at his side. Baker handed out BE-Rifles like they were Christmas presents. The women prisoners were rightfully scared, imaging that they'll be shot as sport by the drunk pirates. Roger pounded his chest, driving away his heartburn. "Okay, men, let'em have it!"
    The actual beam was invisible, but the effects were painfully obvious. Eight women cried when their busts exploded out of their shipsuits, growing with nightmarish speed. Like Monica, the women were immobilized by beanbag breasts in mere seconds. The remaining 24 women were now even more frighten. Some tried to escape, but found all the doors blocked by guards armed with real weapons. Roger's men loaded fresh batteries into their rifles and fired again, picking off the remaining women. Now 32 ultra-buxom women were pinned to the floor, crying or cursing at the top of their lungs.
    Roger's wicked laugh belied the cultured manner that he worked so hard to create. Unknown to him, his daughter Kayla watched via a security camera. What she saw really put the shine on her. Having grown up only seeing what her father wanted her to see, Kayla was horrified by the events unfolding in the courtyard. The pirate captains selected inflated women that suited their fancy. They dragged their 'acquisitions' to different parts of the courtyard, ripping of the remains of their shipsuits and having their way with them.
    Kayla wanted to vomit, seeing her father urging on his men to enjoy themselves. She wanted to turn away, but David's voice implored her to look on, look on while the artificial world her Dad created fell around her ears. Using her remote, Kayla turned up the volume of the tri-dee. Her father was talking to Baker, and she wanted to know what they were saying.
    "Mr Bay-ker, your work is great!" Roger beamed. "Just how big can this beam make a girl?"
    "There's enough power in each D-cell battery to give a flat-chested woman a BH ratio of 2.5," Baker chimed.
    Roger worked some math in his head. "So, if this is used on one of my servants, she'll get a BH ratio of 3.5?"
    "More or less, King Roger."
    Roger slapped a fresh battery in his rifle. "Fine. That's all I needed to know." In a quick draw, Roger shot one of the servants. Brittany yelped as her halter top flew off her chest. The avalanche of breast flesh overwhelmed her frame and strength. She ended up resting on top of a bust that measured five meters around. The other servants were understandably anxious.
    Roger saw movement towards the doors. He didn't like that. "Guards! Seal all doors! No-one gets in or out until the dawn!" The servants, like the Alpine women, were terrified. They have seen their fair share of drunken parties, but none of them degenerated into orgies. Roger's men opened fired with their rifles, servant after servant joining the Alpine women on the ground.
    Still watching, Kayla's morbid fascination mixed with rage. It was clear what was going to happen next to the servants. A few were already being dragged away, their screams lost on drunk ears. Then there was a true soul-freezing sight. Roger fired his rifle at Isabelle Radinov.
    Like the servants before her, Isabelle's halter top exploded off her chest, the garment landing at her feet. In moments Isabelle found it impossible to stand upright. The new mass of flesh was too much for her back. She landed on her knees, then fell back onto the ground. Her breathing was normal, but the oversized beanbags on her chest weren't.
    Kayla felt a spasm of hate and rage towards her father, her delicate hand crushing the remote she held. Her angry scream brought David out of his room. He saw the tri-dee and understood instantly. David crouched next to Kayla, seeing the world as she had seen it for over six years - past the vast slopes of her pride-induced breasts. "Kayla, can't you do something?" David said gently.
    "No; those guards won't listen to me. Daddy's orders." Kayla sobbed as her father stood over Isabelle. His grin was evil, eyes as black as pitch. Roger then lowered his rifle at Isabelle. "NO!!" Kayla screamed, willing her father to stop. All in vain. Isabelle's bust grew again, reaching to a size six times greater than her height measurement. At that moment, Isabelle was the largest woman on Aquarius, but the honor was lost to her. Roger got between Isabelle's breasts, sinking lower and lower to reach her. There was some violent movement; Isabelle's slacks were taken off roughly by Roger.
    "Damn you! Viewer off!!" Kayla cried, pounding her own flesh in punishment. David moved, cradling her head to his chest. He wished that Kayla's new maturity came about in a different way. What she saw would fuel her nightmares for the rest of her life.

Captain's Log, October 7, 2441. Commander Paulette Eickhoff, commanding officer, reporting. What I feared the most had finally come to pass. The Dobbers had successfully replicated the BE-Ray. Last night the orbiting stealth drone observed a party in the Pirate Palace courtyard. In their drunken state, the pirates and the Dobbers used BE-Rifles on the female survivors of the Alpine Star. Even the serving girls were inflicted with mountainous breasts. If just a few hundred rifles get loose in the universe, then women everywhere will be at the mercy of bust-obsessed men. If there's ever been a time we need a miracle then it's now.
    Eickhoff finished her log entry, resting her weary head in her hands. Seeing the Dobbers perfect the BE-Ray was galling; the wanton usage of the weapon was obscene. Women would be nothing more that living targets for 15-year-old boys armed with such weapons. Eickhoff wanted to do something, but what could a single ship do against a fleet of pirates? If only Mr Carson could get in contact with the Stroud. It was clear that Carson's wetware was unable to infiltrate the pirate's command network. Had that been the case, then the Ensign would've contact the ship by now.
    The Stroud's captain then thought about her daughter, Nissa, who had just turned 14 last month. Eickhoff easily saw Nissa as one of the millions of potential victims of the BE-Ray. That thought alone made the Captain resolve to find an answer to a problem that defied answering.

Princess Kayla's bedroom was located in the west wing of the palace. That meant she didn't see the sun as it climbed the sky each morning.  The ceiling lights were turned on instead, giving the illusion of sunlight filling up her room. On this morning the lights remained off. The dark western sky was being driven back by the dawn, but enough light was present for David to see the sad faces of Kayla's sisters.
    Mae-Mae and Nancy were in the bedroom - and they knew what happened last night. Like their sister, the duo felt revulsion and hatred towards their father. What he did to the women, especially Isabelle Radinov, forever broke their image of him being a sweet, generous man. With that horrible event the three sisters understood the fantasy world they lived in all their lives.
    The jewels, cloths, and trinkets the sisters wore were all gifts from their father. With sickening realization the trio knew that most of their possessions had to have been stolen, prizes from the many raids their father committed. Now, with the BE-Ray, King Roger was in a position to inflict every woman he met with the same savagery he performed on Isabelle. A horrible universe, filled with women rendered helpless by giant breasts, was something that had to be prevented. But how?
    Kayla rested on David's lap, allowing the huge ensign to rap his arms around her slim waist. "David, I'm the living example of vanity. I've allowed my breasts to obscure my view of the world."
    "You couldn't have known." David kissed Kayla's ear. "Your father made a false world to keep you innocent. Like all crimelords, the King wanted to remind himself that he isn't all bad."
    "Then he has failed... miserably." Kayla sniffled, rubbing the flesh before her. "Now he's going to do to every girl what I've done to myself. I refuse to rest on my sorry breasts, doing nothing. David," Kayla's voice picked up a measure of confidence, "if you had access to a palace computer, could you contact your ship?"
    "I could, but your father is still suppressing my wetware. My signals are jammed."
    "Not for long, David." Kayla tilted her head up to the ceiling. "Computer, activate main security registry."
    "Activated," came the computer's monotone reply.
    Nancy gasped. "Kayla! Father might find out. Do you know what you're doing?"
    "I most certainly do! I may be immobile, but that doesn't mean my mind has to be the same way. Computer code is second nature to me." Kayla placed her hands on David's knees, squeezing them. "After all, I had all the time in the world to study and practice. David, your 'ware will have access to the main computer net in a few minutes and father will be none the wiser."
    David kissed the top of Kayla's head. "Be careful, my princess. I'm as big and strong as they come, but if anything should happen to you... well, I hope you never see me angry."
    Kayla gave David's knees another squeeze. "I hope so too, David. Father deserves to experience your anger firsthand." Collecting her breath and thoughts, the princess looked back up at the ceiling. "Computer, register ID number 6105379."
    "ID confirmed," the hidden computer replied. "What do you want to do today, Princess Kayla?"

Late in the day Gunny made his inspection of Iron Squad. The eleven little women looked downright cute in their ancient west bluejeans and loud rodeo shirts. Even their decorated boots were shiny.
    "God in Heaven," Gunny exclaimed, "you girls are ready for some serious fun tonight. Mistress Hollister believes that your training and hard work should be rewarded. To that end, she arranged a party tonight and invited the sons of her best friends to attend. Your skills in the social graces will be evaluated. You will conduct yourselves in a manner befitting decent, proper women."
    "YES SIR," Iron Squad said as one.
    "Outstanding. Mistress Hollister would like to be here tonight, but she has to attend an urgent piece of business. I'll be in charge, so no funny stuff... or else!"
    "Yes Gunny," the girls replied in giggles.
    "I swear you girls will be the death of me yet. Now, fall out and make for the dining room and kitchen. Those boys expect to be fed, and I don't want a bare dinner table greeting them when they arrive."
    "Yes Gunny." The women of Iron Squad fell out of ranks, walking back to the mansion. They knew the boys arriving for the party were expecting the usual gaggle of girls wearing halter tops. However, those boys will be in for a surprize. If they act nice and proper, the boys will be treated to handshakes when they leave. If they act poorly, the boys will need new kneecaps and feet. Iron Squad doesn't take crap from anybody!
 

22

Rebecca Hollister stepped confidently out of her limousine. Bertran, her driver and bodyguard, closed the car door and stood attentive by her side. At 135cm Rebecca was one of the shortest women on the planet, but her sheer force of being made her prominent in any setting. She was surprized that Uma, not Karl, Radinov greeted her at the door of the Radinov mansion.
    The two women hugged each other in greeting. "Good evening, Rebecca," Uma said. "Karl would've greeted you, but he's... preoccupied."
    "Uma, you don't need to apologize for him," Rebecca grinned back. "He's playing an intense game of pool with his daughters, right?"
    The look on Uma's face was solemn. Rebecca wasn't told the nature of Karl's request to see her tonight. She assumed it had to do something with Angel and that female ensign, Monica Leutze. Angel was at the age to get his first wife. Perhaps it's an announcement of Angel's impending marriage? If so, Rebecca's in an excellent position to spread the word!
    "If it was only that, Rebecca. Come with me to the family room." Uma lead Rebecca into the house, leaving Bertran behind to mind the car, wiping off imaginary smudges on the hood.
    The ornately decorated main hallway lead to an equally festive set of doors. Uma opened those doors, ushering Rebecca into a room of silence. The normally bright and cheery Daisy was quite, depressed actually, sitting on a plush couch. Next to her was Nina, Karl's second wife. Like her daughter, Nina was somber and silent, holding Daisy's hands in support.
    Rebecca's eyes widen with surprize when she saw Monica. My God, she thought, there's no way she could've gotten so big this soon, even with overworked 6G nanites! Sitting next to the hyper-inflated ensign was Angel. A part of Rebecca's mind did register that Angel and Monica were holding hands, but now her attention focused on Karl. The normally jolly man was deathly quiet, his left hand made into a fist. At his side was Isabelle. Rebecca sensed that something was deathly wrong with the girl. The lively visage Rebecca expected to see was gone; in it's place was the blank stare of a zombie. Karl held one of Isabelle's lithe hands in his massive right palm.
    "Thank you for coming, Rebecca," Karl announced, startling Rebecca out of her woolgathering. "I have something to say to you, to everyone in this room. Please, take a seat." The little woman sat in a well-used rocking chair. Rebecca had such a chair back at her estate, rocking away all-too many lonely afternoons.
    Karl gathered his hands, using them as a focus for his thoughts. "It sounds melodramatic, but I must start my story from the beginning. Seventeen years ago King Roger returned from a particularly vicious raid. His eyes were destroyed, and the doctors were preparing to give him artificial ones. Queen Teresa was distraught, knowing that Roger could've been killed instead of blinded. I was with Teresa the night the operation occurred, and in a moment of weakness I... comforted her."
    That made Rebecca raise an eyebrow. Even Uma and Nina were showing their surprize. It's downright impossible to hide an affair with the queen. Such an event would've lead to Teresa's removal. But that didn't happen. "My friend, Charles Hollister, was in charge of palace security that night. He knew what I did, but he kept that knowledge to himself. It was Teresa's own doctor that discovered her pregnancy. The doctor was especially loyal to Roger, telling him the news a few days later."
    Karl's hands were made into tight fists. Everyone swore they heard tendons and bones creaking from the strain. "Roger did nothing. He waited... waited... waited until Teresa gave birth to Mae-Mae. Everyone assumed the pregnancy came about when Teresa visited Roger in the recovery room two days after his operation. Roger got quite an ego boost when he supposedly 'did' his wife in his weaken state. Then, just six hours after Mae-Mae was born, Roger had Teresa poisoned, making it look like she died of post-birth complications."
    "Poisoned?" Nina said in disbelief. "How did you know?"
    "I'll get to that part," Karl replied like a brick wall. Everyone listened more intently. "Roger wasn't through with his revenge. He couldn't kill me directly, but he had other ways to wound me. Fifteen years ago, Charles," Karl looked at Rebecca, "my friend, your husband, was given command of the Viceroy, a battlecruiser that came fresh from the yard. In her crew were my two oldest sons, Anthony and Derek, and Charles' son Kelly. On the day the Viceroy was to be commissioned, there was an accident. The Board of Investigations later ruled that the ship and crew were loss due to a poorly maintained antimatter warhead. After the funeral speech King Roger spoke to me. He said that 'Charles should've remembered his duty and responsibilities as a sworn captain to the King'."
    "That bastard!" Rebecca exclaimed. "Now I know why he acts so condescendingly towards me each time I attend court. It's not a bug he has up his ass; it's his bloody, murderous hands he has shoved up there!"
    "Be thankful that I swept this house for surveillance bugs," Karl said forcefully. "The King would've had you whacked for saying that. Charles was killed because he found out the true cause of Teresa's death and told me about it - two days before the Viceroy was destroyed. My sons were killed to keep me quiet. Your son Kelly was at the wrong place at the wrong time."
    Monica pushed down on her breasts, giving her more room to look at Karl. "So, for the last fifteen years, you've been living in fear of what Roger may do to Angel and the rest of your family?"
    "He's done more than that, Monica! It wasn't enough for him to kill Anthony and Derek, making their wives grief-stricken widows. Last night there was a party fit for the likes of Sodom and Ghamorrah. That damnable Mr Baker brought a batch of BE-Rifles with him, and the drunken idiots saw fit to use them immediately. They blew up the breasts of women they've captured from a freighter. By itself, that was a damnable offensive." Karl placed a supportive hand on Isabelle's knee. "King Roger wanted more. He used those rifles... on the servants that worked the party."
    "Oh, God," Monica gasped. "He didn't..."
    "He did. That bastard Roger singled out my Isabelle, giving her two shots from that damnable raygun. She had the biggest breasts in the courtyard, trapped and unable to move due to their monstrous weight. She couldn't fight... and Roger raped her." Isabelle sobbed, resting her head on Karl's chest. "After that, Roger had the presence of mind to return Isabelle's breasts to normal. But the damage was done. My own physician examined her. Had this been an earlier age, my daughter would've been unable to bear children."
    "That asshole!" Angel's clearly mad, wanting to work out his hate and rage on the King that very moment. "Father, the King should be tied up and burned for doing that!"
    "I'm with you, son. I ever so want to rip Roger's heart out." Karl stroked Isabelle's hair, trying to do what he could to comfort his broken girl. "I've been such a fool, an ignoramus that's getting his just reward for a wasted life of crime and greed. Monica," Karl said to the attentive woman, "you wondered why all the women on Aquarius are so small and the men equally big. It isn't an accident. When this world was founded, Konrad Wertz, the first Pirate King of Aquarius, decreed that all women on this world would forever be subordinate in size and strength to men. The doctors made that decree reality. At age 9, all girls, native-born and captives, are injected with nanites. The nanites are specifically tailored to control the body's growth process. At puberty, the nanites allow the maturity of internal organs, but a girl's increase in height is retarded. Thus, the average height of an Aquarian woman is 144 centimeters."
    "Christ be merciful," Uma breathed. "Then, for boys, it's the opposite. They're endowed with towering height and strong bodies, while the girls are made small and tasked to carry expansive breasts."
    Karl stood up, holding Isabelle close to him with infinite care. "Years ago, I was told about this by Roger when I had his confidence. He thought it was 'appropriate' that women were made small and weak, limiting their potential as human beings. He's wrong. It's the women that are the stronger. They have to be, putting up with the foolishness and immaturity of their men."
    "Karl..." Nina said softly.
    "I regret that only now do I comprehend the folly of my work. The only way to set things right is to do what I should've done 15 years ago." Karl pulled out a thin, rectangular box from his casual jacket. He tossed the black box to Angel, who caught it with ease. "Monica, that box is a device that will cancel out the wetware suppressor that's been implanted in your body. Keep it on your person at all times. What I've just done is enough to land me in prison, but I'm not through yet."
    "Mr Radinov," Monica said past surprized lips, "you're not thinking about killing King Roger?"
    Karl nodded slightly, his intent all-too evident. "More that than, Ensign. It's time to put an end to a culture where women are nothing more than just life-sized dolls with breasts. A world where all its wealth is stolen from other people doesn't deserve to exist. If it takes my blood to purge this world of King Roger's evil, then I'll gladly spend every last drop of it. Ensign, I need your help as well as that of your friends. With your 'ware in working order, we might just win the day. Will you help me?"
    "As if you had to ask?" Monica's chutzpa reply brought out some light laughs from the Radinovs and Rebecca. "I'll tell you this; if you don't kill Roger, then I'll do it with the incredible suffocating power of my breasts!"
 

23

Back at the Palace, in a meeting room located in the underground bunker, all was not well. King Roger looked composed, as were the captains around him. But leave it to Potts to speak the obvious. "It's truly in the mix now, Roger. I can practically hear the knives being sharpened."
    "Then it's more for you than for me, Potts," spat Fuchs, another captain. "The girl you imposed yourself on was Checho's daughter. I can practically hear your throat being crushed."
    "Enough." Roger's voice stilled the lips of his men. The last thing he needed was for the meeting to degenerate into a blame contest. "The party last night has done its damage, true, but that only means our timetable for leaving has been pushed forward."
    "How much forward?" Captain Nichols barked. "The demands from the other captains can't be ignored for long. They now have an excuse to remove you from the throne, just like your grandfather fifty years ago."
   Potts nodded. "Aye, and it really won't sit pretty since you did Radinov's daughter, King Roger. He'll be after your blood."
    Roger's eyes flashed red momentarily. "He won't have it; there won't be time. In 30 hours all of our ships will assemble in orbit. Then, by means of the Back Door, we will make our escape. We will start over again on a fresh world hundreds of light-years distant."
    "I doubt if we even have thirty hours," Potts stated. "The people will call for an inquiry immediately."
    "Time is on our side, Potts. Radinov will need support. It will take effort on his part to convince the other captains to join him. When Radinov is ready to show me the Black Spot, it will be too late. We'll be gone, free from the reproach of our lustful action."
    "We'll be escaping with little more than our lives," lamented Fuchs.
    That comment made Roger stand up, his penetrating gaze rendering Fuchs as still as a frozen pond. "Have you forgotten so quickly? There has always been the possibility that a quick escape would be needed. Wealth and opulence can always be replaced. But you have to be alive in order to do that. Do all of you understand?"
    The assembled men nodded and grunted. "Then it's agreed," Roger replied with finality. "We will proceed with Plan Omega. In 12 hours the gravitic generators at the Northwest Passage will shut down. The Stroud undoubtedly has left a hyperdrone in the vicinity, tasking it to enter the Passage once the gravitic barrier is down. By the time the navy sends in its ships, taking out the minefields and fortresses in the process, we will be long gone. The Commonwealth will just have to settle for this paultry planet for all of their efforts and losses. They'll hail it as a major victory, despite the fact that they didn't destroy any pirate ships. We, gentlemen," Roger spoke in his characteristic charm, "will go on and reestablish ourselves. In time, our strength and skill will be greater than ever. May the immortal Sea Dog smile upon us."
    "I certainly hope so, King Roger," Potts said. "Three cheers for King Roger!"
    Roger looked insufferably pleased, receiving generous cheers from his trusted group of pirates. His eyes were red, but this wasn't due to the praise heaped upon him. Roger was thinking vile, murderous thoughts. His fetid mind working on the inevitable revenge he wanted to inflict on his people. In Roger's warped opinion his people 'failed' him, failed to restrain his impulses that were always liberated by copious drink. He saw it as his peoples' fault for not stopping him when he enlarged the servants, and Roger didn't want to face the wrath of vengeful fathers and brothers. In little over a day Aquarius will be changed irrevocably. It was these thoughts that made Roger's emotive cybernetic eyes blaze red.

The dawn crept through Rebecca Hollister's study window. By that faint light Gunny was able to look upon Rebecca's peaceful face. He recalled the events of the last 12 hours, both in pride and sadness. The party put on by Iron Squad went swimmingly. All the girls enjoyed themselves, behaving in a responsible manner. The boys expected a more 'liberated' atmosphere, at the very least some cleavage. After a few party games the initially disappointed boys were treated to a series of slow, close dances set to sedate western music. It didn't take much brainpower to figure out what the boys liked most about the party.
    Just as the guests were sent home Rebecca returned. She was glad that the party was a success, but it was clear that she had something to talk about with Gunny. After the kitchen and living room were policed and Iron Squad sent to bed, Rebecca had Gunny sit with her in the study. In an hour the Marine was brought up to speed on what had happen to Monica, David... and Isabelle.
    Gunny's bemusement of David's 'plight' was matched by his anger at what was inflicted on Monica and the other women. Radinov gave an anti-suppressor to Rebecca, who in turn gave it to Gunny. The big Marine had to wait before using it, though. When Rebecca recalled what happened to her husband and son she broke down in tears. Gunny guided Rebecca to a couch, holding her gently in his arms. For a few moments Gunny was reminded of the time when he consoled his daughter when she scrapped her knee. But the only similarity between Katie and Rebecca was their height. Rebecca was a woman, a woman who lost her husband and son to the insane jealousy of one man. Gunny silently vowed to make King Roger's death as slow and painful as possible. Such an unconscionable bastard deserved no less than that.
    Rebecca had cried herself to sleep, sitting on Gunny's lap with her head on his tough, muscled chest. Gunny decided not to wake her, going asleep himself sitting upright. Now, with the dawn light filling the room Gunny was trying to find the right way to wake up Rebecca. He didn't have to worry about that. The study door opened slowly. In stepped Xala, pushing an anti-grav table before her. A complete breakfast for two rested on that table. Odors of coffee and eggs brought Rebecca out of her slumber.
    "Good morning, Gunny and Mom," Xala said. "I got up a bit early and decided to start the breakfast. Good thing I just happen to notice you two were already up."
    "Bull," Rebecca belted out, "I bet you were watching for a good 10 minutes. As you can see, me and Gunny were only sharing the pleasure of each other's company."
    "I can believe that," Xala teased, pouring coffee into awaiting cups. "Old people tend to cuddle more often."
    "It wasn't cuddling, Xala," Gunny said after taking a sip of morning gold, "it was comforting. There's a difference, and I'll tell the girls later this morning." Gunny took another sip. "Xala, tell me, why did you call Rebecca 'Mom'? I was under the impression that you were one of the servants."
    Xala blushed, trying to hide her playful face. "Well, Mom didn't want you to give me any preferential treatment. Additionally, she wanted to know more about you. Men tend to let down their guard when the 'boss's kids' aren't around."
    Gunny looked down upon Rebecca, the little woman holding her ground with the best of them. The Marine's menacing face instantly transformed into a smiling teddybear. "Ma'am, by now you should know that an old groundpounder like me has no secrets. They're not standard issue."
    "That's a relief, Gunny." Rebecca planted a kiss on Gunny's worn cheek. "If you had, then I would've had to lie even more to King Roger. He's going to regret that he placed you under my care."
    "One thing at a time, woman," Gunny pulled the cart towards him, "first, let's eat this breakfast before it gets cold. Then we can plan the demise of the King."
    Rebecca grinned, patting Gunny's tummy. "So be it, but you'll need more fuel for the furnace. Xala, make another plate for Gunny and wake the girls."
    "Yes, Mom."
 

24

It was mid-morning when Monica made her first attempt to infiltrate the Palace datanet. With the anti-suppression device firmly placed at the base of her cleavage, and armed with Radinov's codes, Monica made a mental order to her 'ware. The fine mesh of molecular circuity woven into her brain cycled to full function, its programs and intelligence bent on fulfilling Monica's commands.
    Radinov's personal codes opened the way, then the ware took over. Subtle commands and requests were made, the ware siphoning the resulting information into its memory. Monica followed along, reading summaries of the data. It'll take work to get into the more critical files, such as schematics of the pirate ships, but Monica knew she'll get that data eventually.
    A sensation of a bright flare blossomed in Monica's brain. It was a warning: her ware picked up definite signs of another ware program in the palace net. Security routines were enabled, bent on identifying the other presence in the net. In an exchange that scarcely lasted a second the identity of the other program was confirmed. It was David's program. Monica's heart filled with joy, actually sounding a whoop of delight realizing that David was in the net now.
    Monica, is that you? Came David's tentative query.
    David! I'm so glad to find you! Much less here in the palace net. How did you gain access? Monica's genuine concern was conveyed by her ware. David's reply was equally filled with meaning.
    My help came by means of Princess Kayla, my most ample friend. Speaking of ample, you're not too small yourself. David's 'words' were a bit whimsical and mischievous. From what I heard you're truly blessed by an Angel.
    Shut up, you, Monica playfully tossed back. From where I'm at, I can practically see Kayla! I'll never have to worry about you lusting after me. Kayla's keeping you occupied every moment of the day, isn't she?
    Hey, now it's your turn to shut up! David and Monica shared a mental laugh. Really, thanks to Kayla, I was able to access the pirate's most sensitive data. I was just about to set-up a series burst transmissions to one of our stealth sats... assuming they're still there.
    They are, David. Radinov told me that a ship was destroyed by a bomb-laden stealth drone a few days ago. The Stroud is still here. Now if only Gunny was on-line...
    You spoke my name, Ensign, and I obey! Gunny's playful 'voice' was a welcomed surprize to both Monica and David. I turn my back one second, and look what happens. Miss Leutze gets enlarged and Mr Carson lands himself a whopper. This will not look good on your performance appraisals I dare tell you! Gunny then sniggered, earning a rueful electronic look from Monica.
    David made a mental sigh. Gunny, you should be the one to talk, running a whole bunch of girls ragged like they were a crop of green recruits! Again you demonstrated your knack of expressing enduring sentiments, not to mention finding us so quickly. Speaking of quickly, we have to do just that. The pirates are up to something; their ships are being prepped and supplied.
    You got the dirt on the pirate fleet? They're planning to leave? Monica's concern was matched by Gunny's.
    Don't you worry, Monica. The Captain will get the edge she's been looking for. You'll see. My ware has already found the appropriate transmitter and sent the messages. I suggest we now coordinate our efforts to nail those bastards Roger and Baker.
    I concur, Mr Carson, Gunny boasted. I've been aching to break that bastard Roger's back all night!

The atmosphere in the Stroud's CIC was charged. The stealth satellite in orbit picked up David's transmissions. In an eyeblink the satellite sent the data to the Stroud. Eickhoff's officers and ratings worked to make the data into something useful. The Captain herself was deep in thought. Before her iwa a 3-D image of Aquarius. Light codes signifying the various pirate ships floated about the holographic globe like so many fireflies. Her eyes more often than not fixated on the symbols for the SDs Port Royal and Gold Coast. Each of those monsters were a 250,000-ton mix of warship, freighter, and mobile repair base. And they're heavily armed and armored to boot.
    They're all being resupplied, Eickhoff mused. Monica and David's report did mention that the King wasn't exactly on the best of terms with some of his captains. It could be they'll try to make a break for the Northwest Passage. They certainly have the numbers, even more so for the firepower those two behemoths carry!
    "Captain," Commander Weylan said, releasing Eickhoff from her woolgathering, "we just got a signal from our satellite on-station at the Passage. The gravitic blockade is gone."
    "Gone?" Eickhoff stated. "Why in the world would the pirates do that? They've not even finished resupplying their ships. They're giving away their advantage of surprise. If I know Forsythe, he has the task force gathered at the far end, waiting for the blockade to come down. I take it that the drone we left behind has already entered the Passage?"
    "It has, Sir. Additionally, the satellites have picked up 17 ships inbound to Aquarius, including the ones that were at the Passage. Had they waited, the pirates would've had the force advantage."
    "Something's not right, Number One. It's as if they want our ships to enter... unless there's another way out of the system. No, those gravitic generators went down for a reason."
    Weylan eyed the tattooed chrono on her left wrist. "Something's coming to a head soon. According to Ensign Leutze, a gathering of irate pirate captains will force an audience with that King Roger. It could mean his removal."
    Eickhoff grunted. "And Ensign Carson is still in the Palace, the proverbial frying pan if things get hot. He's indicated that he's planning something in conjunction with that meeting with King Roger. As long as he's confident of success we'll stay here. Perhaps there'll be no shooting required from us."
    The light codes still floated about the 3-D image of Aquarius. Weylan edged closer to the projector, getting a better look at the small beads of light. "I hope so, Captain. I hope so."
 

25

At the Radinov Estate there's a palatable sense of tension in the air. The other captains that had daughters violated at the party had gathered at the main house, consulting with Radinov. Angel's with Monica in her bedroom, staying in touch with David via an encrypted link to the palace. In an adjoining room was Gunny and Rebecca. Thanks to Monica's efforts, the palace computers still thought Gunny was at the Hollister Estate. Rebecca wasn't worried about that.
    "Are you sure you want to do this, Gunny?" Rebecca wrung her hands, watching as Gunny double-checked his disguise. Made to look like a guard under Rebecca's employ, Gunny could pass as an Aquarian male. After all, he had the needed height and physique.
    "I have to, Rebecca. David will need my help. Even if we had a BE-Rifle, Monica would've been spotted - she's too tall." Gunny was right. At 160cm Monica's taller than Princess Kayla. Gunny practiced his mean pirate face, his visage a mix of scowling and barred teeth.
    "If you have to go, can I at least kiss you for good luck? Iron Squad expects no less of me."
    Gunny actually looked surprized. "They would, those little wastrels. They'll bug you to no end if you don't. Okay," Gunny said to a partially-open door, "Iron Squad, come on in. You'll want to see this." Guiltily, the 11 young women that composed Iron Squad filled into the room. Now dressed in black-and-silver jumpsuits, the little women looked insufferably pleased. "Iron Squad, I have one last lesson to teach. It involves love, but more than just the physical kind." Some of the girls frowned. "Hey," Gunny smoothly said, "you'll be surprized what a little bit of love will do for a man. With a reward of a simple kiss a man will move mountains for his woman. As with all things, be responsible when you do this, for sometimes the man never comes back."
    The big Marine got down on one knee. Rebecca stepped forward, planting a kiss on Gunny's forehead and holding his head briefly to her bosom. "You come back alive, Sergeant-Major," Rebecca commanded. "Your wife and children expects no less."
    "I will endeavor to do so, ma'am." Gunny stood up, giving Rebecca a bearhug. Letting the little woman down, Gunny turned to the bemused faces of Iron Squad. "Ladies, as you saw, Mistress Hollister has done a very difficult thing. Tonight I may face my own death, but I go knowing that a woman has placed her complete faith in me. All I ask is that you do the same when you get your own husbands. They'll forever bless you with each breath."
    "We swear, Gunny," Xala spoke for the squad. "You better not die; you still have so much to teach us."
    "I've done all that I could with the time I had, you fillies. Do me proud and protect the Radinovs and Monica."
    "We will, Gunny," Xala beamed, "we will."

At first glance Monica looked dazed, but on closer inspection she's using her wetware. Conversing with David and Princess Kayla via a secured link, Monica was made aware of the growing discontent that King Roger caused. What had happen two days ago in the palace courtyard was grounds for the penalty that faced King Roger now - the Black Spot. All the ravaged servants were daughters of pirate captains, and those captains wanted Roger dead. The Black Spot would force Roger to spend the rest of his life in solitude on a desolate island. The only way Roger can stay in power is to engage his accusers in combat - all at the same time. It will take more than Roger's boasting to overcome 25 irate men.
    A firm hand on Monica's shoulder brought the ensign out of her link. Before her stood Angel, dressed in a pirate shipsuit. He had not gone on a raid yet, his shipsuit still bare of patches and trophies. "Monica, me and the others are leaving now. I just wanted to thank you."
    "Thank me for what, Angel?"
    Angel got to one knee, holding Monica's free hand. "I'm thanking you for your help... and for opening your heart to me."
    "That wasn't an easy thing to do, Angel. A woman's heart is the most difficult thing to steal... and you did it. Come closer."
    Angel did so, and was unprepared for Monica's embrace. The overample ensign kissed Angel deep and hard, her hands securing the young man's head and shoulders. Now embolden, Angel let his free right hand land on Monica's beanbag-sized breasts. Like a pantomime spider, Angel's hand moved across the expanse of flesh, ending up on right nipple. He felt the nipple throbbing in sympathy with Monica's heart.
    This tender scene could've been more 'intimate', but the lovebirds were startled out of their revelry by Karl Radinov's coughing. "Angel, as much as I hate to interrupt you, we have to get going."
    "Okay, father." Angel beamed lovingly at Monica, getting up quickly. Then, in a mischievous move, Angel softly kissed Monica's lovely nipples. "After all, a proper man should thank a pillow woman for her services. Tootles."
    "Yes," Monica teased, "you better get away before I fall on you!" Overcome with warmth, Monica watched Angel leave, wishing that she could join the group. Determined not to become the 'token female' and 'hapless maiden', Monica's going to fight her fight via wetware. If an exotic beauty like Nadia Junker could do it then Monica knew she could to!

"They're coming, King Roger. They'll be in the Palace Hall in an hour." In King Roger's office, Captain Fuchs waited for his king to answer. Sidearms are normally not allowed in the palace, but at this time Fuchs wore his pair of gauss pistols. King Roger wasn't armed with weapons, but his mind could be considered one.
    "Let them come, the fools," said Roger, his voice as strong as a stone wall. "I will not go quietly into the night. I, of all the kings of Aquarius, have been the most successful. It was I who devised and carried out the most audacious raids in the history of our world. It's the plunder of those raids that gave those fools the riches they have now." Roger gazed out of the window of his office. It's dark, the sun had long since settled behind the Partition Mountains. "For this one act they dare show me the Black Spot? Outdated hogshit! It is far too late in the game for Radinov and his friends to develop consciences. I alone will lead the Aquarian Pirates to a new world and rebuild."
    Fuchs consulted his minicomp, acknowledging a message. "King Roger, the escape transport is ready. Would you like to have your daughters taken to it now?"
    "No, not so abruptly." Roger headed for the office door. "I'll explain the way things are to my girls. Kayla and David are the main concern, but they'll see things my way."
    "As your will commands, King Roger."
 

26

The drive to the palace had only an hour to go. For those concerned it felt much longer. In the lead car of the convoy was Karl, Angel, and Gunny. The Marine rechecked his concealed gun, a 5mm gauss pistol with a 50 round clip. He preferred a heavier piece, but Radinov had no other guns to spare.
    "Getting anxious, sergeant-major?" Karl asked, looking behind him. "Roger often wears a personal forcefield pack. You may just have to grapple with him hand-to-hand."
    Gunny grinned. "That'll do just fine, Mr Radinov. It will be the pinnacle of my career, breaking that bastard's back over my knee."
    "You'll have to wait your turn," Angel added. "Roger defiled my sister. He'll be short half-a-kilo of flesh once I'm done with him."
    "You can have it, Mr Angel. But I'm not sure Monica will take it!" Gunny giggled at Angel's embarrassment. "Take it easy, lad. Monica told me about you, and from what I've seen she's made a good choice. For a son of a pirate, that is."
    "Now, now, sergeant-major." Karl rechecked his chrono. "Even you have to admit that some of us pirates are almost respectable. Rebecca accepted you, despite what you did to our brethren."
    "Point well taken, Mr Radinov," Gunny admitted grumpily. "Who couldn't be taken in by Rebecca's obvious charms and inner beauty."
    "That can be said for all Aquarian women, sergeant-major."
    "Call me Gunny."

Kayla's quarters. Mae-Mae and Nancy folded blankets. It's a usual chore, all the more to make the sisters feel at ease. Kayla rested in her usual spot, receiving a back massage from David. The ensign's hands worked their way up and down Kayla's back, removing tension and stress with each caress.
    Roger entered the living area, flanked by two palace servants. The sisters and David looked at the purposeful man, secretly knowing why he was here. "My daughters, Mr Carson," Roger said stoically, "I've some unfortunate news. Undoubtedly you've heard about it through the grapevine."
    "Grapevine?" Kayla said mockingly. "It was more like the sewer! Father, you've ignored my calls for the last two days. Can you explain yourself?"
    "Kayla, Nancy, Mae-Mae." Roger spoke the names softly, working his silver tongue's magic. "What I did that night was inexcusable, and I regret doing it. If I could, I'll step down and go into exile, but I can't do that."
    David stood up, his height making the sisters look like spectators at a boxing match. "King Roger, I can't see how you expect to stay in power. From what Kayla told me the captains will make sure you leave."
    The sisters gasped, seeing their father's eyes turn black. "Then they're a bunch of hypocrites. They scorn me of this one act, yet on deployments those examples of morality impose themselves on every woman they see. I will strive to improve, to make restitution, but I need to be in power to see that accomplished."
    Mae-Mae felt frighten. The only time she seen Roger's cybernetic eyes turned black was when he was annoyed... or angry. The girl crotched down, resting her hands and arms on Kayla's right breast, seeking a measure of security. Mae-Mae's voice had a quiver of fear in it. "Father, you're scaring me."
    Roger's eyes turned back to normal, the mechanisms mimicking the pleading look of his former organic ones. "Please, for your own sake as well as your safety, listen to me. The captains coming here will not settle only for my removal. You, my daughters, will be taken away and given to my supposed successor. I would rather die than see you three mistreated. Years from now, you may hate me, but you and your children will be safe, warm, and secure."
    The group sickened, wondering what Roger had in mind. "Father," Nancy said tentatively, "what are you going to do tonight?"
    "Now, now, now. I mustn't spoil my surprize." Roger glanced at his wrist chrono. "The time is near. I must go to the Palace Hall. Wynette, Janine," the two servants stood attentive, "proceed with the instructions I gave you."
    "Yes, King Roger," said the servant named Wynette. A moment later Roger left, and only then did David and the others smiled.
    "Wynette, did you bring it with you?" David's question was answered by the little woman's impish grin. Both servants had brought along suitcases, but Wynette carried a special cargo. Upon opening the suitcase Wynette produced a BE-Rifle.
"It was hard to come by, Mr Carson," Wynette said joyfully. "I had to practically seduce one of the Dobbers to get it." She held her wonderful watermelons in her delicate little arms. "The Dobber agreed to lend me the rifle in exchange for a face massage, but it wasn't my hands that did the work."
    "Utterly shameful," Nancy said in fake shock. "Some men are such perverts. Go ahead and 'pack' those suitcases with some clothes." Turning, Nancy got David's attention. "You know how to use that boob-beam?"
    David relieved Wynette of the rifle, checking the settings and power level. "Simple as pie." David aimed the perverted weapon at Kayla. "In a few moments your sister will be able to cover her nipples for the first time in seven years."

The Palace Hall. The disgruntled pirate captains and their attendants milled about, speaking in hushed yet heated tones. Gunny, disguised as one of Rebecca's guards and acting as her proxy, kept his eyes and ware alert. Security was nonexistent, as if Roger considered himself above the need for protection.
    The voices fell silent as King Roger made his appearance. He briskly stepped onto the little stage that awaited him. Potts and Fuchs joined their king, standing one step behind and to either side of him. Looking confident as ever, Roger spoke to the assembly. "Gentlemen, I understand you have a complaint?"
    Karl Radinov, the group representative, stepped forward. "King Roger, this gathering of captains before you has agreed that your conduct two days ago is inexcusable. The raping of the servants, all of them daughters of the men present here, can only mean one punishment for you." Karl withdrew a card from his vest pocket, the plain white facing marked by a large black spot. He held the card up and out towards Roger.
    "What is that?" Roger mused. "A Rorschach test?"
    The only one who laughed at Roger's chutzpa was Potts. He quickly silenced as the gathered men glared ominously at him. "Roger," Karl said like a teacher dressing down a student, "no amount of humor will save you. You and your daughters can still live comfortable lives on a remote island, only if you step down now. Or would you rather fight us and truly prove that you have the right to lead us."
    Roger's eyes blazed red, his voice filled with vigor. "Black Spot? The right to lead? Bilgewater! You're all fools if you believe that sacred pirate creed. Only the most desperate and ruthless of all pirates deserves to lead the rest to glory and plunder! Tonight, I will show you just how desperate, and ruthless, I really am. Fuchs, the monitors."
    Working his minicomp, Fuchs activated a series of flat-panel displays that lined the upper walls of the hall. Each display showed an estate belonging to one of the present captains. Roger chuckled. "Yes, it is convenient that all of my accusers are here. Once I'm done tonight all the others who have questioned my authority will bow down to my will. Now for an example of my ruthlessness." Roger snapped his fingers.
    One display bathed the hall in white light for a moment, then dimmed to show a mushroom cloud rising above the ruins of an estate. The captains made slight noises of shock. "Yes," Roger boasted, "I must admit I feel quite happy to be rid of Rebecca Hollister. She refused every effort of mine to give her a new husband. Ungrateful wench! That bastard Marine, Treavor 'Gunny' Scranton, is dead too. He'll never break another back again."
    His hand tightening on his hidden gun, Gunny had to will himself not to attack Roger that very moment. Rebecca and the girls were at the Radinov estate, but that was cold comfort for the guards that worked for Rebecca. Eighteen men were killed instantly in an act of barbarism. If Roger is so blatantly casual in the destruction of the Hollister Estate, Gunny thought, then he'll have no compunction to do the same to Radinov!
    Roger's ego filled the air with its stench of smugness. "Gentlemen," Roger said in a snigger, voice wavering close to insanity, "you have two choices. You can spend the rest of your lives laboring for my benefit, ensuring the continued survival of your families. Or you can watch your families die and then join them yourselves. Oh, if they try to leave their estates then my personal forces will shoot them down like dogs. Two minutes, gentlemen, then Mr Radinov's family will be the next to go. This will continue every two minutes until I have your answers."
    Karl placed a calming hand on Angel's trembling shoulder. The boy has the energy to spend but no means to act on it. This wasn't some movie where the heros can overcome the bad guys and save the world. Roger has the power, and the insanity, to make any schoolboy heroics suicidal. Karl looked imploringly up at the ceiling. God, if you truly want to bring this world into your realm of light, send the angels to assist this group of unworthy men.
 

27

The deadly quite on the Stroud's bridge was broken by Lt Mill's voice. "It's confirmed, Captain. That nuke was fired from the Port Royal."
    Commander Weylan looked at her repeater plot. "Captain, the Port Royal's targeting sensors are zeroing in on the Radinov Estate. Your orders?"
    Captain Eickhoff glared at the main screen, viewing a closeup of the mentioned superdreadnaught. The huge ship alone could've bombarded all the towns and estates on Aquarius in under two minutes. King Roger was truly a sick bastard, and Eickhoff intended on removing the very tool that Roger measured himself with. Whatever happens on the planet below was secondary compared to the ships in orbit. Those ships, if allowed to escape, could cause more harm and suffering for years to come. Eickhoff made her decision. "Mr Weylan, upgrade alert status to red. Mr Mills, implement fire control plan Buckshot."
    A pair of 'aye sirs' were uttered, the naval ship priming for a fight. Still in cloak, the Stroud was in the literal midst of its enemies. Thanks to the information purloined by Carson and Leutze, the naval cruiser had the chance it needed. Eickhoff secured the seal on her shipsuit helmet. "Mr Mills, have the first three volleys of antimatter warheads overcharged. We need to cause as much destruction in the least amount of time."
    "Aye, Sir. Shall I bring the guns to full power for this one?" Mr Mills sounded eager.
    "By all means, Lieutenant. The pirates have never seen a Mk15 particle cannon operate at full power before. Let's oblige them."
    "Understood. Fire control solutions achieved. We are prepared to fire."
    Eickhoff gazed at her main repeater panel. The symbols of 62 pirate ships clouded the little display, but that's going to change. "Fire."
    A quartet of particle cannons on the Stroud's port side hurled their deadly energies at the Port Royal while an equal number of beams on the starboard side unerringly struck the Gold Coast. Those beams were an order of magnitude more powerful than their earlier brethren. As they struck, each beam punch a meter-wide hole completely through their target. That can be very detrimental to the target ship if the beam passed through a fusion reactor or a magazine filled with antimatter warheads. Both pirate SDs sustained direct hits to their engineering sections. That alone would've finished them, but the beams also managed to hit at least one antimatter missile in the magazines they passed through. The huge pirates ships went up in colossal explosions, as the rest of their deadly warheads lost power to their containment fields, allowing antimatter to touch matter.
    The Stroud's two bow cannons nailed the former battleship Barham, the beams destroying the containment housings for the fusion reactors. The fury of two tiny suns consumed the stolen naval ship in a second. The stern beams picked off an Enforcer battlecruiser, drilling down the long axis of the ship to reach the centrally-located reactors.
    While the beams took care of the larger ships the missile launchers belched their sprint-mode volleys of death. The numerous small ships - Piranhas, Barracudas, and Sharks - were the targets. With their drive fields down the small ships were much more vulnerable to nuclear warheads, even more so to overcharged antimatter warheads. Instead of an explosive force of 50kt, the warheads carried the wallop of 120kt each. On her panel Eickhoff saw corvettes and frigates disappear like ancient burnt-out lightbulbs. A Shark destroyer had a 50-50 chance of being utterly destroyed or hopeless crippled. The odds were against them, for only 3 of the 12 destroyers had the fortune to remain floating wreaks.
    Some pirate ships were on the quick, raising shields and arming weapons. Lt Mills was willing to pay a fortune to see those pirates' faces as he targeted them with the particle cannons. Normally, with raised shields, particle weapons had to batter their way through to reach the hull. Not so with the Mk 15. At the range the Stroud was fighting and at the power levels they were operating at a Mk 15 particle cannon could effortlessly pass through shields. In an eyeblink, five pirate cruisers vaporized when their fusion plants were holed by a single beam each.
    The final batch of pirates, 11 ships in all, ejected their antimatter warheads into space. This spared them the possibility of a beam piercing a warhead in a magazine. A good defensive measure, but it didn't offer protection when a beam demolished the housing of a fusion reactor. One-by-one those 11 ships joined their brothers in death.
    "Launch Alert!" Lt Basil, the sensor officer, announced. "18 fighters have launched from the planetside spaceport. They must be from the Ravens' flightgroups."
    "All pirate warships destroyed, Captain," proclaimed Lt Mills.
    "Acknowledged," Eickhoff replied. "Mr Mills, cripple all freighters and the space station." The Captain consulted another repeater plot. "Port and starboard missile launchers will engage the fighters. Bow launchers will engage the spaceport fighter facilities."
    "Aye, Sir." The Stroud turned broadside to the approaching fighters, spitting out advanced anti-fighter missiles. The pilots manning the fighters jinxed and weaved their little craft, trying to generate misses. The missiles were unfazed, revealing a surprize of their own. Out of the front section of each missile came three smaller weapons, their acceleration and maneuverability much greater than that of their parent. Only four fighters survived that surprize, making their only attack run on the Commonwealth ship. The cruiser's battery of point-defense lasers took care of the remainder.
    From the Stroud's bow tubes came special earth-penetrating missiles. Speeding downward, the missiles came under fire from the now-alert spaceport. The first duo of missiles was intercepted, then the next set and the next. One missile of the fourth salvo did get through, unerringly striking the surface of the underground fighter bays. Just before impact, the missile's on-board shield generator activated, projecting a cone of pure force ahead of the weapon. Earth, rock, and plasticrete were violently pushed out of the way. The missile's two kiloton warhead exploded only a fraction of a second later, taking out the  fighters that were hurriedly being armed. There wouldl be no-one coming out of that underground hell.
    Mr Basil displayed the spaceport on the main screen. "Fighter base destroyed, Captain. The air-bursts from the remaining volleys have wrecked all surface-parked shuttles and air conveyors."
    "Excellent. Mr Phad, take us down. Let's visit the Palace."
    The helmsman nodded. "Aye, Aye, Captain."

"Kayla, how do you feel?" Nancy said hesitantly.
    "Strange. I keep expecting to feel the weight of my breasts on my legs." Princess Kayla looked at her radically reduced bust. By use of the BE-Rifle and two batteries Kayla now had a BH ratio of 1. Like her sisters, Kayla wore the trademark slacks and halter top. The purple and white garments had been stored for seven years, and thanks to their memory-plastic fibers they were able to comfortably mold themselves to Kayla's body.
    "More importantly, can you walk?" said David, his eyes unfocused and distant. By means of his ware David was informed of what had happened to the pirate fleet. What will happen now in the Palace was anyone's guess.
    Kayla took some tentative steps, then made a complete transit of the living area. "I certainly can walk, but it feels like I'm perpetually falling forward."
    "Join the club, sister," Mae-Mae teased. "Now David can give you a proper hug without fear of smothering."
    "That can wait," David said, "we have to get those two guards outside. Janine, care to do the honors?"
    "Certainly, Mr Carson." Janine walked to the main doors, opening them without ceremony. "Guards," she said to the two hulking men, "the princesses are ready to leave. I need your muscles to carry the suitcases."
    The guards obeyed, as they were conditioned to follow the orders of King Roger's personal servants. Inside Kayla's quarters the guards were utterly unprepared for the sight that greeted them. Princess Kayla, the woman with the largest breasts on the planet, now only carried a pair of ladybumps that were no bigger than her sisters'. The hopelessly gawking men were knocked out from behind by David and a spirited Wynette. The guards were tied up, gagged, relieved of their weapons, and dumped into a prodigious closet.
    David, you better look at this. It was Monica, talking over the ware channel. King Roger is about to do something in the hall. You better beat feet to that control bunker now.
    David 'saw' the live feed Monica transmitted to him. Roger looked unnaturally calm after witnessing the utter destruction of his fleet. We will, Monica. Keep watching the network like the guardian angel you are. David rechecked the gauss rifle he held. "Well, girls, ready to make the whole planet stand up against the King?"
    "I am, my love." Kayla walked hurriedly to the doors, looking to see if the corridor was clear. "With your friend Monica running the security system we can get to the bunker unmolested."
 

28

The Palace Hall was filled with deafening silence. On the wall screens the audience watched as the Stroud entered the atmosphere, descending towards the Palace. Resistance was futile; the fighter base had been wrecked and the pirates didn't have much in the way of ground forces to speak of. Only a madman would consider fighting on.
    Roger was mad, but it wasn't the navy ship that he considered the primary enemy. His unnatural cool eyes burned into the souls of the assembled captains. "There, you see, your disloyalty has brought the wrath of Neptune upon us. You have ruined us."
    "Asshole!" Angel Radinov roared, drawing out his gun. "For a man who threatened to kill the families of everyone here, you still have the gall to speak like that?! Die!" Angel pumped out three rounds at Roger. Inexplicably, the shells ricocheted off the man and hit the walls instead, shattering some screens.
    Roger grinned. "Foolish boy. That gun cannot harm me. The same time I had my eyes implanted my doctor installed a personal force field. And lucky me that your father never knew about that." Roger snapped his fingers, summoning Potts to his side. The portly man handed his king a minicomp. "Now, watch as I order my men at your estate drag out your family and shoot them like dogs."
    "Bastard!" Karl Radinov bellowed. "You're proving yourself to be the small man you really are!"
    "Enough from you, Karl," snarled Roger. "Fuchs, activate the hall security systems. Time to gas these worthless men."
    Fuch's looked worried. "I would like to do that, Roger, but the system isn't responding. What the hell..."
    The hall lights went out. A calamitous noise was made from the guns and lasers carried by the assembled men. The lights came back on at half-level, revealing the shot-up bodies of Potts and Fuchs... but no sign of King Roger."
    Karl snapped his fingers. "Damn him! Angel, Gunny, you're with me. As for everyone else, you know your orders!"
    "Dad, what about the family?" Angel said hurriedly.
    "We can't worry about that," said Karl. "Our estate guards are prepared. But if Roger's men enter the house proper then it's up to Rebecca's girls." Karl then looked at Gunny. "Since you're in contact with Monica, can I assume she already knows?"
    Gunny's face was hard. "She does. For what I'm been told those men won't be expecting the surprize waiting for them. C'mon, lets get to Roger's office."

David and the girls ran down empty hallways and corridors. Thanks to Monica's control, the various security doors along their route were secured. That just left the men guarding the bunker entrance.
    The security elevator was locked out independently from the main computer, but Kayla's codes enabled her to work the machine. "David, I'll do all the talking. If the guards prove intractable you can then knock them out."
    "Then I hope your ability to bluff is as great as your bust." David gladly took Kayla's rueful look, whistling while the elevator whisked downwards. With a slight hiss the doors opened, the little band stepped out into a security foyer. The two guards manning the desk were armed and armored.
    "Halt!" Barked a guard. "Identify yourselves."
    Kayla boldly stepped forward, arms akimbo. "I'm Princess Kayla. I'm ordering you to open the bunker entrance."
    The guard disagreed. "If you're Kayla, what happened to your breasts?"
    "It was a matter of expediency. My platform couldn't fit into the security elevator, so I had a BE-Rifle used on me." Kayla glowered at the guards. "My father has ordered me to take command of the bunker."
    "We've been informed that you and your sisters are to be taken to the heliport."
    "There's been a change of plans." Kayla made her annoyance clear. "When my father finds out that my entry into the bunker has been delayed by your thick-headedness you'll be making big rocks into little rocks for the rest of your life. Open the doors."
    "Yes... Yes, your highness!" The guards keyed-in their codes.
    Kayla grinned as she retrieved a compact stunner from between her breasts. "Thank you." She fired quickly, the guards falling to the ground like broken dolls. David relieved the guards of their weapons. The group entered the bunker, the massive doors closing behind them with a solid sound of finality.
    "Kayla, have you always kept a stunner on your person?" David questioned.
    "Always, just in case a bad boy tried to take advantage of my former immobility. Cleavage is a convenient hiding place."
    "Are there any other weapons down there I should know about?"
    "David..." said Kayla wistfully.
 

29

The battle at the Radinov Estate commenced. Men from Roger's demesne marched on the gate. Radinov's guards had their orders too, having been informed moments earlier by Monica. Three would-be killers were dropped by snipers, and two more were mowed down by monofilament grenades. The return fire included blastex grenades, leveling the gatehouse and creating a crater where the main gate use to be.
    An armored skimmer whisked down the main drive, earning the honor of being the first vehicle destroyed by mines. As the burning mass of plastic and metal slammed into a tree, eight jumpjet-equipped men covered the distance from the gate to the mansion without resistance. Upon landing, though, two hidden guards opened fired on the squad. Four attackers were mowed down by particle guns, but the survivors took out the offending weapons and the men that fired them.
    Inside the residence Monica's still engaged in her ware battle of wits. While she had nominal control of the Palace's security net she discovered that Roger has his own limited version of wetware. The King's been able to override door lockouts on his way to his office. Concealed wall guns and gas dischargers also refused to engage Roger. This man clearly didn't want to be killed by his own defenses.
    An audible boom brought Monica back to real-time consciousness. Roger's men had broken through the main doors. Kala darted into Monica's bedroom. "It's in the mix," the little woman said, "those buggers have entered. But don't worry. My girls are waiting for them."
    "I'm praying for us," Monica breathed, "'cause one's coming up the steps right now."

Phits ascended the steps two at a time, particle gun at maximum setting. King Roger's orders were clear - everyone in the estate, especially the female ensign, was to be killed. As a veteran of 20 planetary raids Phits was eminently equipped to fulfill those orders. At the top of the stairs he caught sight of a form running around a corner. A quick-shot from Phits' rifle made a big hole in the far wall. Cursing his missed shot, the man bounded down the hall.
    Had Phits been patient and kept a cool head, he would've taken precautions. Such as setting off an aerosol grenade to detect monowires, like the ones Phits just ran into. The incredibly strong and ultrafine wires effortless severed Phits' legs below the knees. The crippled man fell forward, screaming in pain. His combat smock tighten around the stumps, making improvised tourniquets. Crawling, Phits tried to reach his gun, but a heavy foot landed on his wrist. Twisting to get a better look, the would-be killer caught sight of an ample woman wearing a black jumpsuit. Phits only had the time to register the woman's pronounced breasts when a piece of pipe smashed into his forehead.
    Back downstairs another man searched the kitchen. The various floor-level cabinets were large enough to hold the typical small-stature, large bosomed Aquarian female. Named Ernest, the man lived up to his name, kicking in cabinet doors. His intent was to flush out anyone hidden in the cabinets. What he got instead was a severed foot, for he had set off an explosive that was linked to one of the doors. Ernest went down, and he stayed down when Nikki, Rebecca's youngest, popped out of an overhead cabinet and nailed Ernest on the head with a genuine Ironworks skillet.
    Man number three, Nauls, heard the small explosion in the kitchen but ignored it. His thermal scanners had detected several people in the room ahead. Without ceremony Nauls blasted the doors open and ran in. His aim true, Nauls placed a shot into each body-sized target he saw. Only when he downed his fifth body did Nauls realize he was shooting at fakes, dummies.
    A soft sound caught Nauls' ear. He turned just in time to get nailed by a boomerang. The particle gun dropped to the floor, Nauls' hands were cradling his painful face. Out of their hiding places came three members of Iron Squad. The young women assaulted Nauls, crippling his legs and arms. A solid blow to throat made Nauls breath no-more.
    That left the fourth man. West utilized the second stairway, remaining mindful of traps and diversions. His microgrenade launcher shot off aerosol rounds ahead of his path. The monowires were easily defeated with a quick swipe of a laser. West sprinted down the second floor hall, coming to a halt when his thermal imager picked up a heat source ahead, a big heat source. Firing a particle shot at the door handle, West then rushed the door and barged in. There, before him, was the female ensign. Her breasts were as big and succulent as Mr Baker described. Her hands were bound to bedpost behind her, and her feet were tied with rope. It's a damn shame to waste her, thought West, but let's have some fun first.
    "Get away from me, you asshole!" The ensign yelled. The woman still had some fight in her, just what West was hoping for.
    "Appears Mr Radinov doesn't trust you, dearie," said West mockingly. "Or could it be the women of this house like their 'companionship' vulnerable and weak?"
    Monica spat, pegging West right on the nose. "Wench!" West went over and cupped Monica's nipples, squeeze firmly. The entrapped woman both gasped and moaned as West massaged the fist-sized nips, the projections of flesh throbbing hard in response.
    West got hot and bothered. This was the first time he had ever handled such a big woman. It's a damn shame such wonderful flesh had to be destroyed. But West wanted to do one last thing. He bent down lower, intent to hear Monica's beating heart before he silenced it forever.
    It was at this point that Monica pulled her legs apart, the rope that held them together nothing but a clever ruse. She wrapped her now-freed limbs around West's waist, holding him. In a burst of speed Monica's hands flew free of the bedpost, in each palm was a poisoned-filled pin. Those pins pierced West's exposed throat. The injected man broke free of Monica's deadly hold, scrambling to get his gun up. He couldn't, the poison already entering his brain and affecting his motor functions.
    One final surprized came in the form of Xala. She left her hiding plance under the huge bed, eager to finish West for good. The increasingly leaden man was pummeled senseless, ending in a shattering blow to the chin. The shock, in combination with the poison, was great enough to kill the man.
    Xala exhaled, turning to face an equally-relieved Monica. "I'm glad that's done. Any more of those jokers left?"
    The ensign removed the last of the tape from her wrists. "There's some men left, but the guards have the situation under control now. But I won't be surprized if Roger had one final surprize left."
 

30

In his office King Roger armed himself. The disgruntled captains gained control of the first floor of the palace, including the armory. The central computer had been compromised, and it was only the hard-wired overrides that allowed Roger to reach his office at all. Elsewhere his men were being gassed or shot at by the security system. The men patrolling the grounds and at Konrad Barracks have been alerted and were on the way. Even the limited number of tanks are being mobilized, for the Palace was equipped with heavy particle cannons and missile launchers.
    Mr Baker, the Dobber leader, and his two associates were in the office as well. Baker wore a body armor suit with integrated helmet. He's armed with a gauss rifle, but his shooting hand wielded a BE-Rifle connected to a field-grade battery pack. "Damnation!" Baker cursed. "To be on the threshold of a new age, only to see it swept away by a few ungrateful men."
    "They're not ungrateful," Roger corrected, "they're misguided fools. Your dream can still be realized, Mr Baker. I still have a trump card to play. Watch." Using the flat control panel built into his desk, Roger went through a list of menus. He scowled in hate when the commands he entered were not acted on. Then he noticed something else. "That ungrateful wench! She's in the command bunker along with David! My plan can't be fulfilled as long as they're in there! Come!"
    Baker watched a bank of security monitors. "You may want to wait, King Roger. Karl and his son Angel are approaching this office."
    "Yes, you are so right, Mr Baker," said Roger, full of venom. "I mustn't allow any lose strings to remain behind."

In the command bunker there's a sense of urgency in the air. Kayla used her codes, systematically taking over the command net. With assistance from David and Monica, the task was complete. A broadcast routine stood ready, only waiting for Kayla to start it. "David, I'm scared," Kayla said softly. "Father will come after us now. What if your Marines don't show up in time?"
    David bent down and kissed Kayla's forehead. "Don't you worry yourself sick about that. The Stroud is on its way here. Now, use the strength that's within you. Be the compassionate leader that your father could never be."
    Kayla closed her eyes, stilling her mind. Chaotic emotions were banished, replaced with clear intent. With purpose, the First Princess of Aquarius opened her eyes and pressed the switch in front of her. "Citizens of Aquarius, this is Princess Kayla," she said, gaining encouragement from her sisters' smiles. "I'm addressing you tonight on a most serious matter. Two days ago my father and a group of captains engaged in a disgraceful act. Many of you have heard about this by way of rumor. Those rumors are true. The women recently brought here were subjected to a breast-enlarging ray and were violated. The servants..." Kayla stopped for a moment, drawing upon her courage to proceed, "...the servants, all of them daughters of our captains, were also subjected to the ray. Due to their massive size, the servants were unable to defend themselves and were raped. My father and his mens' drunkenness cannot be used as an excuse for what they did. This action had made clear what must be done."
    Kayla took another breath, looking intently into the video pickup. "I, Kayla Wertz, First Princess of Aquarius, declare that my father has proven himself unfit to lead the people of this planet. I am obligated to declare my rightful succession to the throne. My first order as Queen is the immediate arrest of Roger Wertz and the men that were with him at the party two nights ago. All defense forces, including the fortresses and minefields at the Northwest Passage, are to stand down. No action is to be taken against any Commonwealth forces that enter the system. The one ship that is here, the Stroud, will assist in the capture of Roger Wertz and his band of fellow violators. The orders I have given cannot be countermanded. Persons who fail to carry out my lawful orders will be severely dealt with."
    With genuine compassion Kayla laid her hands on top of her breasts. "As you see, my marvelous bust has been reduced, but my love for this planet and her people is greater than ever. We have lost enough men already, and the lives that our men have taken can never be replaced. Please, find it within yourselves to build a world through honest effort and genuine love and not by stealing treasure and breaking families. If not for me, do this for your children and the generations to come." Kayla bowed and turned the camera off. She then turned to embrace David. "My heart's racing a kilometer a second. What's next on list?"
    The tall man kissed the top of Kayla's head. "The escape vehicle. I have the feeling that Mr Baker is all-too willing to leave Roger behind. I'll get him. You and the girls stay here. Nothing short of a tac-nuke can break into the bunker." David made for the bunker exit, his grip on the gauss rifle extra firm.

"Five minutes to drop point," Mr Basil announced. "I'm picking up a convoy of vehicles approaching the palace. A mix of APCs and tanks. They'll reach the Palace in four minutes."
    Eickhoff grunted. "Well now, we can't have that. Mr Mills, are the submunition rockets ready?"
    "They are, Captain," replied the weapons officer.
    "Have the rockets engage the vehicles at your discretion," said Eickhoff.  Fifteen seconds later Mills acted on his discretion. The Stroud carried six of the Mk8a submunition deployment rockets. Each of those rockets contained 114 high-velocity armor-piercing warheads. Any target, whether a man in powered armored or an assault tank, would be utterly destroyed by the .01 kiloton nuke carried by each of those warheads.
    The relief convoy from Konrad Barracks never reached the palace. Five of the six rockets were destroyed by the convoy's air defense, but the remaining rocket did the job. The vehicles that did manage to survive fell prey to the Stroud's remaining pinnace. Particle guns and anti-personnel missiles mowed down armored men as they tried to flee, especially those who tried to reach the Palace. The captains fighting against Roger had no powered armor of their own. If they had to face even a squad of such armored men... such thoughts are best left to nightmares.
 

31

Karl, Gunny, and Angel went down a corridor, weapons drawn. Gunny was kept informed by Monica via his ware, while Karl and Angel relied on earbug transmitters. They knew Roger entered his office, but there were no remotes for Monica to take control. Roger hadn't left his office either, so what could he be doing now?
    The office doors opened violently, startling the approaching trio. Out stepped King Roger. In his powered armor the disgraced king looked like a futuristic dark knight. The visor was down, displaying a black surface that reflected Karl's expression of shock. Roger's chuckling voice came out as a menacing growl from the suit's speakers. "Karl, you're a greater idiot than I give you credit. For all these years you knew about my suit. In your sudden development of morals you've forgotten all about it." Roger raised his arm...
    "Duck!" Karl and Angel grabbed floor and rolled away. Gunny did likewise, ending up behind a plasticrete post. Roger fired his suit's built-in blaster, smashing the post in two.
    Karl knelt into firing position, emptying his pistols into Roger's suit and helmet. The suit's armor and built-in forcefield shrugged off those hits. Karl rolled out of the way when Roger fired again. Blasted pieces of floor hit Karl in the shoulder.
    Monica, said Gunny urgently over the link, can't you try some of your mental gymnastics here?
    A security partition sprang from the wall, separating the trio from a vengeful Roger. You've better hurry, Monica replied, Roger's able to override the doors. Run!
    I'm getting to that! replied Gunny. "Karl, Angel, we need heavier weapons. C'mon!" The big Marine sprang up, ready to run down the corridor when the partition started to open. Monica's mental commands were being countermanded by Roger's hardwired overrides. The trio ran hard towards a corridor junction, trying to get out of Roger's line of sight. After a few agonizing moments the partition opened completely. Just five meters short of the intersection both Karl and Gunny were brought down by Roger's blaster.
    "Father!" Angel yelled, dropping down to Karl's side.
    Karl spoke through grated teeth. "Get away from here! Your gun can't do any good."
    Angel's earbug played Monica's empathic voice. "Your father is right. Angel, run! Get to the armory!"
    A blaster bolt narrowly missed Angel's head. Angry, frustrated, and helpless, Angel ran down a side corridor, heading back down to the first level. Only after hearing three more blaster shots did Angel bellow in rage.
    In intense pain, Gunny got up on his elbows. Next to him was Karl, the four blaster marks in the man's back were still smoldering. "I pegged you for a bastard, Roger," Gunny spat, watching as Roger walked ponderously towards him, "and I see that I was correct from the start. The only way you can hit a target is from behind."
    Roger let loose with another round, utterly destroying Gunny's left kneecap. Gunny's wetware released pain-killing drugs, but even that wasn't enough to dull the internal fires the Marine is feeling now.
    "I recognize that voice," said Roger joyfully. "It's the esteemed Sergeant-Major Treavor Scranton, better known to the now-dead Mistress Hollister as Gunny. Bet you never expected to be killed by one of your own suits." Roger came to a halt, his left foot baring down on Gunny's shoe, breaking the Marine's bones in the process.
    Gunny endured the pain, the drugs and his hate kept him conscious. "How did you get that powered armor suit? Did some Marine leave his locker open?"
    "I admire you, Scranton, for being able to make jokes right up to the end." Roger thumps his armored chest with an equally-protected fist. "This suit belonged to a Marine, true, but an unlucky one. Nine years ago I lead a raid on an outpost. An armored Marine knocked me down with a concussion grenade. I was only lightly stunned, but I played dead. The Marine turned me over and raised his visor. Then, in a lighting move fit for a cat, I shot the man right between the eyes. End result, I got this suit. Had to thoroughly clean it, removing the bits of brain, bone and blood splatters."
    "Your cleanliness belies your inherently soiled profession. You would've been an excellent pool cleaner." Gunny's insult provoked Roger, the enraged man yanking up the Marine by the throat.
    "Fuchs was right. I should've killed you the moment your stunned body was pulled out of the escape capsule. But now... now I have the pleasure of doing this." With his visor-hidden eyes turning a soulless black, Roger's grip began to tighten.
    The darkness claimed Gunny's eyes, his breath deserting him. Gunny's wetware, ever-faithful, duly acknowledged the signals from Monica and David. The two ensigns received a reply that was appropriate for the old man, but one that they never hoped to hear - I'm knocking on Heaven's Door, a Marine euphemism for dying. In his mind, the old Marine chuckled in perverse amusement. Years from now, his grandchildren will have the morbid option of watching their grandfather dying at the hands of the Pirate King. As long as the brain wasn't utterly destroyed, the data contained in the wetware can be extracted and stored. That's the Bureau of Standards for you, Gunny thought for anyone listening, always making sure it's the equipment that survives. It ended with a final abrupt exhale.

David kept moving. The vivid image of Gunny's death had to be kept down. Any tears will have to come later. Running down the corridor that lead to the escape vehicle, the ensign encountered a barrier. A strange barrier. Two huge spheres, fleshy-pale in color, blocked the way. A cry of surprise startled David.
    "Oh, Mr Carson! Thank goodness it's you!"
    Looking up, David did a double-take. It was none-other than Lana, one of the palace's pillow women. She's on top of her now monstrous breasts, way bigger than their former beanbag size. "What the hell happened?" was what David managed to say.
    "It was Mr Baker! He took me and three other pillow women. Even with AG bras, pillow women aren't meant to run." Lana's hands pressed into her expansive breast flesh. "Baker, that asshole, used the breast beam on me. My back is up against the ceiling, and I feel faint."
    "Don't talk. Your heart is being stressed." David laid a calming hand on Lana's left breast. "Get into a relaxed state. Your breasts will be returned to normal once I settle things with Mr Baker."
    "You have my blessings, Ensign. The only way you can get past me is by going between my breasts." Lana giggled. "Besides, I'm not the only one with big lungs. You won't lose consciousness from a lack of air like I'm about to do."
    David reached up and pulled Lana's right hand down his lips, giving her a delicate kiss on the wrist. "Save your breath and dream nice dreams." Releasing Lana's hand, David got on his hands and knees and proceeded to crawl into the yielding cleavage. Like a mole, David moved through the unusual darkness, the flesh around him warm and smooth. It's only a three meter trip, but it felt like an eternity, and the emergence at the far end was akin to a second birth with David's head appearing first.
    Standing up and rechecking his gear, David ran down the corridor. Monica's ware had Baker and his cronies under surveillance, transmitting the data to David. The escape vehicle is a high-speed VTOL located in the East Tower. It's still there; apparently Baker was unable to gain access to the craft. He will never have the time. At that moment the Stroud was over the palace, releasing its complement of Marines.
 

32

The palace guards were gaining the upper hand against the captains, the few suits on duty that night relentless pressed forward. That changed instantly. 500 meters above the West Tower was the Stroud. It couldn't use its weapons at this short a range, but it carried a far more suitable option. 35 Marines, equipped with the best powered armor the Commonwealth Marine Corps ever devised, stepped out of the bottom-mounted shuttlebay hatch and enabled their drop gear. Called the Drop Bears, the Marines literally hit the ground running, firing high-velocity rounds at the guards. With this new threat the guards were prevented from entering the palace, but in turn the Marines were delayed. Those minutes proved to be crucial.

"King Roger, you waste bucket!" Mr Baker cursed, kicking the hatch of the VTOL. "Change the codes on me at the last minute, will you? I hope they hang you by your testicles!"
    "Boss, I think you better keep it down," said Vic, one of Baker's assistants.
    "I don't care!" Baker roared back, making his two men winch. Tia, the remaining pillow woman, covered her ears, elbows pushing down into the upper slopes of her breasts. "Oh, why didn't I listen to our immortal Big's advice? 'Only depend on your own means of escape'. Someone shoot me!"
    "I'll be happy to oblige!" The loud voice startled Baker. He was even more startled when his two assistants doubled over and fell, bleeding profusely from multiple wounds in their chests. "Now, drop your weapons and raise those hands, Mr Baker!"
    Baker pointed his weapon at Tia, making the poor woman cringe in fear. "No! You show yourself! Or else I'll blow up this woman!"
    David stepped out of the shadows, gauss rifle at the hip. "Oh, I don't doubt it, Mr Baker. Perverts like you can't help themselves. Why stop with Lana, Yuxa, and Puan? You made those three into human barricades." The tall man grinned. "What's the matter? Lost the key? King Roger didn't trust you to wait for him?"
    "Shut up! I'm warning you!" Baker placed the barrel of his BE-Rifle at the base of Tia's back, the cool metal making the poor woman shiver. "Roger is desperate, but I'm more desperate! I'll make Tia so big that her breasts will rupture! Throw your weapons towards me!"
    David slid his rifle and pistol across the smooth floor. "You're despicable, Mr Baker. Using that innocent woman as a shield. If I had a clear shot at your head, I would've taken it."
    "But you didn't. Now to make doubly sure..." True to his perversion, Baker used the rifle on Tia. Thanks to the rifle's battery backpack, the beam endowed Tia with even greater breasts, giving her an astonishing BH ratio of 10. The little woman's feet were clear off the floor, her hands unable to reach the top of her nearly 15-meter bust. Baker intended to use Tia as a diversion. Now, however, the Dobber President was transfixed by his creation. A beautiful, tiny, curvaceous woman affixed to a pair of gargantuan mammaries was a fantasy Baker wanted to fulfill all his life. The smooth, silky skin of the breasts beckoned to Baker, urging him to touch them. So enraptured was the man that he dropped his backpack and proceeded to caress all the flesh he could reach.
    David's sudden appearance was a complete shock. With righteous indignation, the Ensign pummeled Baker, each blow vengeance personified. "Stop," sputtered Baker, a loose tooth falling out of his mouth. "You have to arrest me!"
    "I can't do that; I'm not a law-enforcement official." David's last punch made Baker fall backwards - right out of the tower's open launch doors. With comical exaggeration, Baker grabbed onto the edge. Even with protective gloves the sharp edge cut into Baker's hands.
    "Help! I surrender!" Baker cried. Blood started to trickle down his arms.
    David walked over, stopping a mere two meters away. "Mr Baker, the President of the Disciples of Big, is the most wanted man in the Commonwealth. There's a huge reward for his capture - dead or alive. Hmmm... let me think on that."
    "What's there to think about?!" Baker said almost on the edge of hysterics. The pain increased, plus his grip on the edge was getting tenuous.
    David looked at Baker as one would to a road-killed possum. "If you were worth more alive, then the risk of saving you would be justified. But now..."
    "Just don't stand there! Do something, you bastard!"
    Looking miffed, David held out his hand. "Here, grab my hand."
    "What do you mean, grab your hand?! You slack-jawed gawker!" Baker's fingers continued losing their grip.
    In a conciliatory move, David moved his arm forward an additional three centimeters. "Can't... quite... reach you. I'm making an effort on my part. You try harder." It was too much. Baker lost his grip, both mentally and physically. The crime lord that dreamt to become the next Mr Big fell 100 meters to his death, laughing hysterically all the way down.
    David walked over to the edge, looking down. His ware-aided eyes easily made out the body of a man sprawled out on the ground far below. "Damn," David told himself, "just a few seconds too late!" With that unpleasantness done, David picked up the BE-Rifle and battery pack. He reduced Tia's bust to a much more practical size of two meters.
    The little woman gave an appreciative hug and kiss to her hero. "Thank you. I was Baker's pillow woman during his stay. He was the most obnoxious, ungrateful, and inconsiderate man who made use of my bust. He even ate crackers while resting between by breasts. I'm glad he's dead."
    The ensign kissed Tia on the forehead. "You best hide yourself until all of this is done. I don't want you here just in case King Roger comes."
    As the little woman ran off David received a message via his ware. It's Kayla, and she's frighten. "David, come back to the bunker, now!"
    "What is it?" David scooped up his gauss rifle and 10mm pistol, running down the corridor. The BE-Rifle he still carried, intending to restore the other three pillow women he encountered to normal.
    "It's... him. Outside the hatch right..." the line went dead.
 

33

"Open the hatch, Kayla. You cannot disobey your father."
    "You're not my father!" Kayla yelled back, her hand gripping the particle rifle. "You're the Devil! Don't drag everyone into your personal hell!"
    "Hell. Thank you for saying that, my willful daughter." Over the speaker, Roger's voice sounded harsh and strong. "You know what happens to bad little girls?"
    Kayla trembled when she heard the snap-crack of a whip. The sound went through her body like a bullet. "No!" she reaffirmed. "I'm not going to let you in!"
    SNAP-CRACK! "Kayla, you need to be reminded of the time when you were a very bad little girl." SNAP-CRACK! "Eight years ago, at the tender age of 14, you were the apple of my eye. But you, like my whore of a wife, had to stab me in the back. Remember Orson?" SNAP-CRACK! "He use to be son of the palace chef. Orson served you late-night snacks... and more."
    "Shut up!" Kayla sobbed. "You had other ways to discourage him, but you..."
    SNAP-CRACK! "I was furious!" Roger roared. Nancy and Mae-Mae were terrified. They had never known their father to be like this, acting like an enraged animal. Wynette and Janine did what they could to consul their princesses, holding their heads to the comfort of their bosoms. "Kayla," Roger plowed on, "the continuation of the Wertz Dynasty is my responsibility. My legacy will not be continued by a son of a palace servant! Orson had nothing, nothing that would enhance our bloodline." SNAP-CRACK! "You cannot image the rage I felt when I learned that you took a flyer to the vacation house... with that boy. He was going to steal your virginity, corrupting my only chance to get a proper heir to my throne." SNAP-CRACK!
    Tears rolled down Kayla's cheeks. She had no choice but to remember that night eight years ago. Orson was Kayla's first love, and like all young lovers the two decided to go somewhere private and get intimate. They chose the vacation house, located in a valley of the Partition Mountains. In front of a log fireplace the lovers kissed and hugged. They had no intention to go any further than that. Roger thought otherwise. Literally barging in on them, Roger caught Kayla and Orson in the midst of a kiss. With violence, the King tore Orson away from Kayla's embrace, throwing the boy against the wall. If Orson wasn't already dead, then Roger's whip made sure he actually was. Kayla screamed at her father, telling him to stop. Roger halted his assault only when the boy's lifeless body was covered with savage lash marks.
    SNAP-CRACK! "Kayla, I'm coming for you." Roger's words were lost to Kayla's ears, but she heard the hatch opening. Two grenades were thrown inside, rapidly filling the bunker with smoke. Kayla leveled her particle rifle at the opened hatch. Two figures rushed inside, falling to Kayla's shots. She took the risk and looked at the men. Through the smoke, Kayla saw it was the two bunker guards she stunned earlier.
    SNAP-CRACK! Roger's whip tore the rifle out of Kayla's hand. The suited man walked right up to the petrified princess, his chuckling spilling out of the helmet speakers. Though she couldn't see them, Kayla knew her father's eyes were black as pitch. Roger reached out and lifted Kayla up by her halter top, her liberated breasts quivering in harmony to her terror. The King looked upon his daughter's wide eyes, his gloating voice filling the air. "Fear me," he said.

David ran. By use of the BE-Rifle, David restored to normal the three pillow women he encountered earlier, but at the cost of precious time. Monica's report on the bunker filled David with dread. Unconsciously, he crushed the carrying handle of his gauss rifle, but felt no pain. Since childhood, David possessed incredible physical strength. His parents taught and trained him to hold his strength back, only to call upon it in times of true need. Sometimes there was a lapse, like the time David crushed the hand of a bully that tormented his friends. Other times David wished he could use his strength. He had the size for football, but knew that he would cause nothing but non-stop injuries on the field. In compensation, David accepted the nickname of 'Gentle Giant' from his classmates. His mood now is anything but gentle.
    David reached the bunker, horrified to see the hatch open. The piteous cries that wafted through the air made David rush inside. It was a perverse scene. On the floor were Mae-Mae, Nancy, Wynette, and Janine. They were all saddled with enormous breasts, the massive weight of flesh pinning the women to the ground. Compassionately, David went over to Nancy, brushing back her tears. "Nancy, what happened to Kayla? What did Roger do to her?"
    Nancy stifled her sobs. "Roger took her... to the south balcony. Said he was going..." she exhaled another cry "going to blow her up and push her over the railing. He blew us up to prevent us from escaping. Said he was going to come back to finish us off..." Nancy broke down in another fit of sobbing.
    David kissed Nancy on the forehead. "That's not going to happen. I'll save all of you." Just as he got up, David saw Angel enter the bunker. "You're Angel Radinov, right?"
    "That I am, Mr Carson. Where's that bastard Roger?"
    David removed the battery pack and BE-Rifle, handing them to Angel. "Take this. Use this rifle and restore the women to normal. I'll take care of Roger myself."
    "But..."
    "Listen to him," Monica spoke over Angel's earbug. "David will keep Roger occupied until the Marines can reach him. Please, Angel, do what David said and help the women escape."
    Angel sighed. "You're right, Monica, my love. Mr Carson, when you do get Roger, kick him like the dog he is."
    "I'll do more than that." David sprinted out the bunker, heading for the second-floor south balcony.
 

34

"Remember this balcony, Kayla? Use to be your favorite place to get an all-over tan." Roger roughly handled Kayla, throwing her down onto the floor. "An over-active teenage girl who had to disobey her father. First with Orson, and now with David. I trusted you... trusted you to seduce David and make him see things my way. But you, like my unfaithful Teresa, have failed me."
    "Don't speak to me of failure!" Kayla got up, not attempting to cover her front with her delicate arms. "You're a horrible little man, letting his jealousy rule his mind and heart."
    SNAP-CRACK! Roger worked his whip again, making Kayla quite. "Kayla, you will have to be taught a lesson. After dealing with Orson, I had to slow you down, lest you engage in more mischief. Convincing you to get enormous breasts was simplicity in its finest." Reaching behind him, Roger pulled out a BE-Rifle from its holding stock. "This rifle is getting power directly from my suit. Now to return your endowments to their original size." Roger pulled the trigger. In seconds Kayla's six-meter bust was restored. The princess was incensed. She had enough fight in her to make her move, her titanic breasts slowly being pushed forward, driven on by her will.
    "Such spirit for a princess," mocked Roger. "But wait, you're not a princess anymore. You've usurped my position, calling yourself queen. And shouldn't a queen be bigger than anyone else in the kingdom?" Roger fired again, causing Kayla's mammaries to expand even more. Kayla wailed as her bust grew to a stagger measurement of 12 meters. She's so large that her feet no longer touched the ground. She gasped when Roger touched her expansive flesh with his cold, metallic hands.
    "You're a true coward!" Kayla hissed. "You can't look me in the eye, hiding behind that visor!" Those insults were reward with a pushing sensation. Face set in horror, Kayla realized that Roger was going to push her off the balcony! Her flesh made contact with railing. Had there been room, her nipples would've jutted out in response to the metal's cool touch.
    "That's enough, Kayla! If you don't die outright from the fall then my particle rifle will do the job!" Roger pushed harder. Kayla's feet made contact with the railing. She tried to brace herself, but Roger's suit had the edge in power. It's only seconds before the inevitable...
    "Kayla!" It was David's voice. The tall ensign had reached the balcony. The princess produced a tear of joy when she heard her name.
    Roger spun around. "No interference!" His whip struck out, latching on the gauss rifle and yanking it out of David's grasp. Roger dropped the BE-Rifle, enabling the blaster in his suit's right arm.
    David pulled out his 10mm pistol, wishing that Roger would move away from Kayla. He knew how to do that. "Hey, King Bugger, over here!" David ducked behind a decorative pillar. "It really takes a big man to attack helpless women!"
    A blaster bolt slammed into the pillar, shattering it. "Your mouth I will save for last!" Roger snarled. "I want to hear you scream in pain up to the very end!"
    Displaying a dexterity that belied his size, David moved further and further back into the balcony's foyer, drawing Roger away from Kayla. The problem still remained. There was no way a 10mm bullet could penetrate Roger's suit. What would Nathan Pipecleaner do in a situation like this? David thought.
    He'll do this! It was Monica, communicating over the ware channel. Her voice gave David a boost of confidence. Roger's forcefield will only cover components specifically made for the suit. Look at his left hand!
    Gazing intently, David saw Roger's whip hand. If  true, then there's a chance. Okay, this one's for Gunny! By reflex, David aimed and fired at Roger's hand. The armor-piercing round tore through the armored fist, smashing bone and flesh with equal devastation.
    "You motherless bastard! My gun will finish you!" Roger commenced rapid fire from his blaster, his lifeless left hand dangling at his side. David moved from cover to cover, always a step ahead of the angry energy bolts. It became hazy in the foyer as fires sprung up from the furniture and tables that Roger hit. The pain from his wound made the former king less aware of his surroundings. Seeing this, David rushed Roger. By all rights the Ensign should've been unable to do what he just did, punching Roger squarely in the chest. The forcefield didn't deflect the blow, and David punched so hard that the armor actually deformed from the impact. Effortlessly, David latched onto Roger's right forearm and squeezed, his incredible grip crushing the blaster and the bone underneath.
    "Damn you!" David yelled, punching Roger's helmet with such force that it came off, exposing a face wrapped in pain and fear. With a mental command, David had his wetware transmit a program into Roger's cybernetic eyes. The still-black orbs were rendered useless.
    "My eyes! I can't see!" Roger wailed, trying to lash back at David.
    The Ensign stepped away, breathing like a bellow. "Wrong! You're looking into a hell of your own creation!" With energy that had no end, David punch, pummeled, and kicked Roger back onto the balcony. Then, with a vicious growl, David picked up Roger and tossed him over the railing. The former great pirate king fell onto the courtyard below, his unprotected head receiving the full force of the landing.
    David's body shook from the unspent energy that resided in him. He tore his eyes off of Roger's lifeless form and looked at Kayla - well, her breasts, anyway. Hands that moments before were engaged in violence softly touched the front of Kayla's hyperinflated womanhood.
    "Oh, David," Kayla wept."I can recognize you by your touch. Was your face as severe as you said it would be? Did my father wither from your look of vengeance?"
    "Kayla," said David softly, kissing the princess on her right breast, "you sound like a damsel from one of my adventure novels. It was for the best you didn't see me fight your father. It was truly ugly."
    "Putting an end to evil isn't ugly, my love. Your strength was there when you needed it most. Now, what can you do about me? I'm too big to move through the doors, and I seriously doubt that you can carry me down to the courtyard!"
    "Leave it to me, Kayla. I have my resources." David instructed his ware to contact the Stroud. It came as no surprise that Captain Eickhoff responded.
    Ensign Carson, I'm relieved that you're still among the living, Eickhoff announced with panache. I see that you're in need of assistance, correct?
    Correct, Captain. I need the princess lowered onto the courtyard via a tractor beam. Also, inform Angel Radinov to bring the battery pack and BE-Rifle. Kayla needs to be restored to a more 'manageable' size.
    Understood, Ensign. Do you have anything else to report?
    David grinned, looking up at cruiser as it moved directly overhead. I regretfully announce the deaths of Mr Axel Baker, President of the Disciples of Big, and Roger Wertz, Pirate King of Aquarius. They resisted capture and had to be dealt with. Will this adversely affect my promotion review for lieutenant?
    Ensign, Eickhoff replied casually, I'll lecture you on the viture of restraint after I pin those lieutenant bars on you.
 

35

Captain's Log, November 19, 2441. Commander Paulette Eickhoff, commanding officer, reporting. Six weeks after the fall of King Roger a sense of continuance and order has been achieved on Aquarius. The rest of the task force entered the Aquarian system only a few hours after the Battle for the Palace. A military government is in charge until a proper civilian administration is established. The orbital station has been repaired, as well as all the freighters we've crippled. One of those ships has taken home the survivors of the Alpine Star. The palace still bears the scars of battle, and the former pirates are in no hurry to fully restore the structure. A group of civilian specialists, all Angelicans, will arrive next month, but the Stroud won't be here to see it. Four hours from now the ship will enter the Northwest Passage. After that, I wish nothing more than an uneventful 29 day journey in hyperspace back to Outback. I've been assured that the media there will be professional and courteous, considering the people we'll be bringing with us. It's not everyday that people have the chance to see three former pirate princesses.
    Eickhoff turned off the recorder, resting her hands on top of her endowments. It's out of habit she made the recording, having said things that were already mentioned in earlier log entries. Now, just four hours shy of leaving the former home of the Aquarian Pirates, Eickhoff recalled all the things that happened in the last six weeks.
    The death of Gunny Scranton was a harsh blow to the crew of the Stroud. Rebecca Hollister and her girls were equally devastated. The grumpy, ill-mannered facade that Gunny always projected as a defense mechanism failed when he encountered Rebecca. The good-natured woman brought out the gentle, compassionate nature that resided in the old Marine. In turn, Gunny made Rebecca feel alive for the first time in years. The women of Iron Squad missed the man they affectionately call 'asshole'. When it came time to deliver Gunny's remains to the Stroud, Iron Squad reserved the right to carry the casket. Dressed in black shoes, ties, slacks, white blouses, and the required black armbands, Iron Squad made the traditional one-kilometer march to the ship. Demonstrating a demeanor and skill that would do any Marine proud, Iron Squad, under the command of Xala Hollister, turned the casket over to Eickhoff. Only after returning to the Radinov estate did the little women cry their tears of loss and sadness.
    The remaining pirates on Aquarius were identified. Instead of rounding up the men with the most despicable records and executing them, as was to be expected, Commodore Forsythe settled for a more practical punishment. All pirates that had participated in at least one raid were forbidden to leave Aquarius. 80% of their wealth in all forms was confiscated, going into a fund for the victims of pirate attacks. The only way the pirates can gain more wealth is by doing actual work, something that their wives and daughters have done all their lives.
    The Dobbers fared much worse. All knowledge of the BE-Ray had to be destroyed. Computer records, the workshops, rifles - everything. Even pertinent memories were erased. Ascension Prison on Earth was waiting for these Dobbers, along with a prodigious supply of big rocks ready to become very small pebbles. Gravel driveways were still in use in the 25th century.
    Another group of men that won't be doing much of anything were the Aquarian doctors. For almost 200 years these doctors practiced their own form of eugenics. By use of nanites, these 'practitioners of public health' made all native-born women small and top-heavy while all the men were made into tall, strong bricks. This violation of medical ethics couldn't be forgiven. Recruitment of new doctors began in earnest, and in time all the positions will be filled. Though the old, discredited doctors wouldn't be making small rocks like the Dobbers, they'll be living with daily reminders from now-outraged Aquarian mothers and fathers. Reminders on how they would've been at home on 20th century Earth, where some madmen put their theories on eugenics into practice.
    Eickhoff yawned, standing up and stretching her arms. There's a party in the rec center. The Captain decided to make an appearance and see how the Carsons were doing.

There's still a fair number of people in the rec center. David sat at a table, drinking from a tall glass of lollywater. Next to him was Kayla, his wife and former princess of Aquarius. The couple exchanged vows two weeks ago in the palace garden. The last great palace feast was catered by the palace chef and the Stroud's cook. Though dressed in a plain shipsuit, Kayla still had the air of royalty about her. Across the table was Nate Babcock, David's friend. The ensign who ran Engineering for the past two months was a bit older, both in face and in practical experience. Chief Ellis was pleased, informing Babcock that he can expect the weight of lieutenant bars on his shoulders in the very near future.
    "Is this seat taken?" asked Monica, standing behind an empty chair.
    David smiled. "Go ahead and take it. Nobody has written their name on it."
    Monica sat down, grateful that her new bust didn't collided with the tabletop. Before the last BE-Rifle was destroyed, one final group of people made use of the weapon - the female crewmembers of the Stroud. The regulations permitting females in the ship's company to have BH ratios of .75 - basketball-sized breasts - was still on the books. Monica was the first one in line, getting a 120cm (34M) bust, a major improvement over the 4-meter beanbags she was saddled with. Even Chief Engineer Ellis had her mammaries expanded, though she'll look a little queer until she receives her new legs.
    Angel was only a little sad that Monica made herself smaller, but now he was able to properly hug and kiss his woman and, with his family as witnesses, propose to her. The little ensign blushed appreciatively, knowing in her heart-of-hearts she wanted Angel the moment she saw him. The fleet carrier Kenosha had a minister on-board. He officiated the wedding at the Radinov estate, the ceremony complete with Marine band and honor guard.
    As the new head of the Radinov family, Angel faced many responsibilities and challenges, one of which was the addition of a new wing to the mansion. The Hollister Estate was gone, leaving Rebecca and her eleven girls without a home. In a magnanimous gesture, Angel declared that the Hollisters will live in his house. Additionally, Angel joined the newly-created Aquarian Planetary Police. He felt it was his obligation to uphold a true sense of law-and-order on a planet formally ran by criminals. Monica told her new husband to be strong and compassionate, and to listen to his mothers for advice. After all, mothers do know everything (wink).
    "I had a final talk with Angel via the hypercom," Monica said, rubbing the diamond of her wedding ring. "Angel showed me plans for a honeymoon cottage. There's a certain little hill that has a view of a mountain-fed lake. He knew that I liked the scenery, so," Monica blushed, "he gave his word to have a cottage built in time when I return next year. Eickhoff sent a request to Fleet HQ stating that I should be assigned to the base they're building here. Considering my wetware skills, the Captain recommended me for computer network security and operations. I can feel those lieutenant bars now."
    "That I can agree with, Monica," David said. "You need some weight on your shoulders to counterbalance your new chest." The tall ensign gladly took the playful punch in the arm from a grinning Monica. "Now, what are we going to do about old Nate here? He's been slaving away in the engine room, doing the work of ten people. What's an appropriate reward?"
    Kayla winked slyly at Nate, making him blush. "Oh, I think he knows. And there she is." From across the room Nancy caught Kayla's signal, walking over to the table. Also wearing a shipsuit, Nancy still looked as lovely and ample as ever. Nate's lust was suitably aroused, but his sense of romance held firm in his mind and heart.
    Nancy held out her hand to Nate. "Hello, I'm Nancy, sister of Kayla. Who might you be, Ensign?"
    Nate automatically held Nancy's hand. He's mesmerized by Nancy's gentle face and warm eyes. "I'm Ensign Nate Babcock, Assistant Chief Engineer."
    "Oh, that sounds very important. Can you tell me more about that over a chocolate sundae?" Nancy spoke with total sincerity. Standing up, Nate took Nancy by the arm and walked her over to the refreshment counter.
    "Problem solved," announced David. "Nate's more of an old-fashion romantic than me. I give him two years before he proposes to Nancy."
    "I say 18 months." Kayla took a draw from her glass of lollywater. "Nancy can be 'impatient'."
    Monica giggled. "She won't be the only one. David's parents are practically burn up with anticipation. You only sent them text and audio letters for the past three weeks. You're torturing them, David."
    "Am not!" David stuck out his tongue. "Mom will be happy that I married a princess. An ample princess but a princess nonetheless."
    "That's former princess, my love." Kayla placed her hand over David's. "But I'm sure your family will approve of me. I'm good stock."
    "Speaking of stock," Monica said, "here comes the Old Lady herself." The general hubbub only dropped slightly as Captain Eickhoff entered the room. Like the other Stroud women, Eickhoff enlarged her bust. However, instead of a BH ratio of .75 she went with 1 - an Angelican bosom. She reasoned that since she is the Captain, it's only natural she has the biggest breasts in the crew. Proud watermelons on the Captain's 180cm frame make her look like an irresistible force - her husband will certainly agree on that! With a slight grin, she walked over to Ensign Carson's table.
    "I trust you two are having a good time?" Eickhoff said, arms folded underneath her bust.
    "We are, Captain," said David past a grin of his own. "Me and my wife are about to retire for the evening."
    "Yes, about that. Your quarters are cramped for someone even as short as Kayla. With two people in there... well, that just won't do. As of now, for the next month, you and Kayla will have my quarters."
    "Thank you, Captain. Does this mean you'll have my old quarters in the meantime?"
    With a impish smile, Eickhoff looked at the blushing ensign. "That's right. Remove whatever personal effects you consider 'inappropriate' from you quarters. I'll do the same for mine. Kayla," Eickhoff said, "you're in for a treat. My cabin is the only one on-board to have a bathtub, though it might be a bit of a tight 'fit' for your size."
    "And for yours too, Captain," Kayla giggled. "Women know how to work with such difficulties, which makes me an absolute expert."
    "Truth, Mrs Carson."
 

36

It's the day after the Stroud made transit through the Northwest Passage. For the next 29 days the cruiser will speed on through hyperspace, the universe beyond its bulkheads nothing more than an indescribable shade of grey. The Carsons had settled down for the evening in their cabin. David, dressed in standard-issue pajamas, waited on the bed as Kayla attempted to close up the front of her pajama top. She gave up after the third button.
    "Don't be discouraged," said David in a knowing voice. "For seven years you had a six-meter bust. A naked six-meter bust." That sly comment brought Kayla's rueful glare upon David's grinning face. "You'll get the knack of wearing bras, shirts, and bikinis in no-time. My mom's friend, Lynnae Jarvis, knows of several stores that tailor exclusively to women of your displacement."
    "Spoken like a true sex-crazed sailor." Kayla got on the bed and snuggled up to David, placing his left hand on her right breast. "Now that we're actually heading for your home, I feel a bit guilty."
    "Guilty? How so?"
    Kayla snuggled in closer. "Part of me knows that what I'm doing is right. Aquarius will be a new world. The people don't need obvious reminders of the past. That's why my last official act as queen was to bar relatives of the royal family from serving in the new government for three generations - and to announce the dissolution of the monarchy." Rolling onto her left side, Kayla's sad eyes made contact with David's compassionate gaze. "But another part of me feels that I'm running away. I could've stayed and encouraged the people, even if I wasn't the queen."
    Unconsciously, David started to caress Kayla's breast, enjoying the silky feeling. "As long as you're doing what you feel is right, what your heart-of-hearts tells you is right, then you're not running away. Had you stayed, then the both of us would've pined away for the other's love. Plus the other thing..."
    "Yes," Kayla said softly. "Over 25,000 men were killed when the Stroud destroyed all those ships. Some families are still upset and would take revenge, even if that meant waiting decades for the right opportunity. Others believed that me and my sisters should join Roger in death. Or use us as political pawns."
    David stopped his caressing, moving in to kiss Kayla on the lips. "You've already demonstrated your courage when you defied your father. The next person who calls you a coward will have to get an entirely new head."
    Kayla wrapped her arms around David, holding him while she kissed him back. Her 152cm bust pushed warmly into his chest. "David, has anyone ever mentioned that you have an attitude problem?"
    "No. They were too busy picking up their teeth."
    Kayla sighed in exaggerated annoyance. "David..."

December 23, 2441. The Stroud arrived two days earlier, greeted by a flotilla of naval and civilian ships. For a cruiser that single-handedly destroyed 77 pirate ships, a total of 4.85 million tons, the ensuing news coverage was extensive. When it came time to do interviews the newsies were flabbergasted when they saw the Wertz sisters, Captain Eickhoff, and the rest of the Stroud's female crewmembers. Had there been any short photographers they would've had their eyes put out (wink).
    The ship settled into orbit around Outback with little additional fanfare - just the way David and Kayla wanted it. David's parents reserved a meeting hall at a Zipperback resort. They needed the room; over 75 people wanted to see the new couple privately, away from the telephoto lenses of the Papparazi. Just two days before Christmas the Carson family received the best present ever - their son and his wife home safe-and-sound.
    The hall fell silent as the entourage arrived. In his dress uniform David looked as if he stepped out of a recruitment poster. By his side was Kayla, wearing a decorative blouse of blue and gold. The Stroud's quartermaster worked his magic during the trip home, bestowing the Wertz sisters with simple yet elegant clothes. Mae-Mae had gotten use to wearing all the T-shirts the Marines gave to her. But she knew how important this evening's gathering is to David, so she gladly accepted the dark-blue blouse and skirt that was made for her. Nancy's bedecked in a white blouse, grey skirt, and a purely decorative vest (it can never be buttoned up while on that woman's chest). Nate Babcock and Monica Leutze were last, looking sharp and shiny in their uniforms.
    Amber gave her traditional rib-crushing hug to David. "I cannot begin to tell you how proud and happy we all are," said Amber, a tear running down her cheek. "You've resisted temptation and rid the universe of the Pirate King. What will you do to top that?"
    David grinned as he set his mother back down on the floor. "Oh, you'll be surprized. But I didn't completely resist temptation. Mother, Father, I like to present to you Kayla, my wife and former princess of Aquarius."
    As best as they could, Amber and Kayla hugged. A mischievous gleam worked in Amber's eye, making Kayla blush beet-red. "Well, David, you certainly lived up to your promise of marrying a princess. At least she's taller than me, and eminently equipped to satisfy my inevitable grandchildren. Kayla, did David talk much about me?"
    "Yes he did, Mrs Carson..."
    "Call me Mom."
    "Okay, 'Mom'," Kayla said past a grin. "He did tell me about you and your husband. But I expected you to be much shorter."
    "How much shorter?" said Amber playfully.
    Kayla held the thumb and forefinger two centimeters apart. "This tall." The couple took Amber's theatrical look of disdain in stride.
    "I thought so," said the little woman. "When David was a baby he was consistently hungry for my milk. To accommodate his bottomless stomach, my bust when from a 30G to a 30J. You'll never have that problem I dare say!"
    "Mom, if you're through embarrassing us," David said happily, "let's everyone else get their introductions done."
    Bert and the rest of the Carson family were treated to their own hugs and pats on the back. The Carson children were happy to receive three brand-new aunts. Sharron was only a little put-off that Mae-Mae is only a year older than her. But seeing the ultra-buxom 16-year-old as a cousin was much more acceptable. The kids at Sharron's high school were in for a treat!
    Paul and Lynnae Jarvis were next. Like the sisters, Lynnae has a magnificent bust, but not for long. In 20 months the former police officer will be back at school, getting recertified as an elementary teacher. However, it just won't do having children knocked down everytime Lynnae turned around, wielding a 186cm bust on a 155cm frame. With only slight reservation, Lyn will return to her former 102cm bust. Her 13-year-old daughter Marsha, on the other hand, could hardly wait for her 14th birthday. She's guaranteed not only to be taller than Lyn, but also be more of a natural busty beauty. 11-year-old Trent was happy that he'll be able to give his mother a proper hug in two years.
    The Norbert family graciously accepted David and Kayla's greeting. Greg was now a senior vice-president at a prestigious lawfirm. June retired from the police 11 years ago, bringing into the world her own brood. Charlene (10), Lawerance (8), and Ginger (5) had their mother's good-looks and their father's generosity, giving the Wertz sisters the best hugs they could.
    Save Bert and David, the tallest people in the room were next. Nadia and Harold Junker, each 190cm in height, had to bend down to embrace Kayla and her sisters. Harold retired from the Commonwealth Marshals last month, taking Nadia's last name as his own. Still in the police, the exotic Nadia worked as Commissioner Laramie's deputy. The job was demanding, but not so demanding as to hinder Nadia and Harold's family plans. Lian (8) had her mother's beauty, and Zachary (5) was assured to bear his father's devilish good looks.
    Tobias Eddings, his wife Samantha, and their children were next in line. Samantha just had her fourth child three weeks ago. Kayla held the little girl, admiring the bundle of joy that rested briefly on top of her bust. The former princess knew that she'll be a mother herself by this time next year. Dan and Barbara Spirit Talker gave their congratulations to the new couple. Jackie and Eric, the Spirit Talker's children, giggled when they were accidently knocked down by Mae-Mae and Nancy's breasts. The little tots wished that it could happen again, but the Wertz sisters were more mindful of their busts for the rest of the evening.
    Last, but not least, were the Cerranos. Alberto and Alysa have aged well, accepting each day as a fresh start. 23-year-old Faith was in graduate school, working towards her goal to become a xenoarcheologist. The other faces in the crowd included Commissioner Patricia Laramie, Hans Jennitt (now a proud owner of his own restaurant), and some of David's friends from high school. For the next four hours there was storytelling and snacking. Nancy and Mae-Mae regaled the children with lurid, fanciful tales about the Pirate Planet. With some mischief, Mae-Mae told Sharron and Marsha about the 'harems of beefcake men' that serviced the princesses all day long - and sometimes at night!
    Along with the children, the parents brought along their pet dogs, all progeny of Smudge and Pumpkin, miniature dachshunds that belonged to Nadia and Harold. Since they were related to Smudge, the little dogs tried to get in-between Mae-Mae and Nancy's breasts. Both girls relented, allowing two miniature rats each to reside between their melons, their little heads poking comically out of the cleavage. At least the girls had the room to hold the happy dogs.
    David and Kayla were more factual, and honest, with their recollections. Amber was a bit bemused to hear of a world were all the women were tiny and bountiful. Bert wasn't the least bit surprized (wink). When it came to Kayla's former bust-size, Nadia chimed in with her support. "It takes a special man to love and appreciate an overly-blessed woman," said Nadia. "Having strong arms and gentle hands helps too!" Giggling, Nadia took Harold's appreciative kiss.
    After telling their tales David and the Wertz sisters took a breather outside. The cold night air snipped at their cheeks and noses. Mae-Mae didn't mind. For the first time she saw a sky filled with stars. Aquarius' ring was beautiful in its own right, but a glittering pattern of diamonds overhead took the Wertz sisters' breath away. The dachshunds that resided in Nancy and Mae-Mae's cleavages decided to get out, making the girls' laugh as the big rats sqwermed out and plop on the observation deck. Kayla snuggled up to David, sharing the mutual warmth and joy. The tall man looked out at the moonlit landscape, grateful of the blessings that were bestowed upon him and his family.
    Another person joined the group outside. It's Felicity Wilcox, Lynnae's maternal grandmother. David introduced the sisters to Felicity, telling them that she's a very special lady. For a woman who was 119 Felly didn't look a day over 38. Though quite cheerful, David knew that something was wrong with Felly. The absence of Uncle Silly (Samuel Bannon) played on David's mind.
    "Aunt Felly, where's Sam?" David said.
    Felly looked a bit apprehensive. "No-one has told you yet? Well, I guess they wanted me to tell you about him. Before you left, he fell ill. Two weeks ago he..."
 

[Epilogue]

2442, Outback. It's a typical February day for the northern reaches of the continent of Sydney. The blue sky above the Flintrock Mountains held no clouds, but the wind was cold and driving, rustling the dormant field grass in the cemetery. A headstone for one particular grave read as follows - Samuel Bannon, 2345-2441. For a short man he had a big heart.
    Though David had read those words before, they still caused him to feel sad. Privately, Felicity informed David and Kayla about 'Uncle Silly's' real identity. Having a friend of the family that actually use to be humanity's greatest criminal was quite a bombshell. For a fleeting moment David felt some anger towards the man he knew as Uncle Silly. After all, Mr Big was the man who created the BE-Ray and started the whole chain of events that lead to that dreadful night in the palace courtyard. The anger was lessen when David realized it was because of the BE-Ray that he and Kayla were together and that the Aquarian Pirates were now out of business. The Navy was tracking down and apprehending the remaining Aquarian pirate ships that were still at large.
    David's anger disappeared when Felly told him about how Mr Big's curse was broken. Felly had the ability to love Sylvester for what he was, breaking the curse and freeing him once and for all. She missed Sylvester, knowing that she could never find another man that had his charm and grace. With a new sense of purpose, Felly continued with her life, ever-ready to spoil rotten any new child that her granddaughter Lynnae's friends scared up. Kayla included. In October the former pirate princess will be blessed with a child.
    Arms wrapped around Kayla's tummy, David looked down upon the grave of his favorite uncle. "Got some good news, Sylvester," David said, holding Kayla a little bit tighter. "Mae-Mae finally found herself a steady boyfriend. The kids at Sharron's school have adjusted to Mae-Mae's presence. In fact, some girls have increased their busts to keep their boyfriends' attention on them and not on Mae-Mae!" David snorted a laugh while Kayla giggled. "Sharron has benefitted too. She's now dating the vice-captain of the boy's track team. Mae-Mae's exotic lure on the boys has made her a natural matchmaker. With her intelligence and gracious personality, she'll be the school's valedictorian when she graduates. And here's something that'll make you really happy. My mother's love for me and Kayla was so great that her breasts grew. Her bust is now a stately 112cm on a 142cm frame. Dad agrees that Mom's new 30N cupsize is right pretty." David giggled. "Mom had to get a nanite injection just to make sure she doesn't get any bigger."
    "Nancy will attend university this summer. Right now Dad's adding a new section to the house - three bedrooms, a master bath, and an additional family room that'll act as a nursery and bedroom for baby Treavor."
    "Or Teresa," Kayla said, holding David's hands. "I'd say my genes will prevail and give us a girl."
    David bent down and kissed the top of Kayla' head. "Bull. My Mom assured me that our first child will be a boy. Either way the tot will have my strength and your undeniable good looks."
    "Just like what you got from your parents? I hope so!" Kayla giggled, drawing David's arms a bit closer over her belly.
    David looked at the headstone for one last time. "The Stroud is going on another deployment in two weeks, Uncle Sylvester. If God will permit it, I leave it to you to watch over Kayla and my family. I can't think of a better guardian angel than a man who use to be one sneaky devil. You know what to look out for!"
    With the sun marching down to the western horizon David and Kayla got into their aircar and headed back home. Sharron will be barbecuing jackalope ribs this evening. David wanted to see if Sharron can cook the ribs without burning them into cinders like the last time.
 
 

END

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