Rig Runner

His panicked sprint finally took him back to the hangar, and he shot out of the access tunnel like a frightened rabbit from its warren, only now having the courage to turn and look behind him to ensure that there was no injured Borealan scrambling after him. He couldn't see any furious aliens, but it was dark in there, the only illumination coming from the emergency lighting strips in the deck. Better to get inside the hab module and then wait for a few hours. If the bullet wounds didn't kill her, then her oxygen supply depleting would. The sharp pain in his ribs came back with a vengeance, and he clutched at his side, grimacing under his plastic hood.

You're a pussy Eriksen, he thought to himself as he ducked under the stubby wing of the shuttle and headed towards the hab module door. You could just go check, there's no way she isn't dead. Meeting her in the tunnel had spooked him though, he would feel a lot better with a couple of inches of steel door between him and her, if she was dead or otherwise.

He fumbled with the keypad on the door through his gloves, his fingers slipping on the buttons, typing in the override code for the pressure seal. He waited a moment for the pressure to equalize, the automatic door sliding to the left with a hiss of escaping air, then he stepped into the familiar safety of the habitation module. He hit the door control panel behind him, and it began to close, Eriksen breathing a sigh of relief in anticipation of removing the stifling suit that he was wearing. Ironically space suits always made him feel like he was suffocating, despite keeping him breathing being their primary function.

He felt a rush of cool air as the cabin began to pressurize, sound returning to his ears now that the vibrations had a medium through which to travel again, and he heard the blare of an alarm. He turned, seeing that the hab module door was still open a crack, the atmosphere rushing through the gap as the system tried to restore life support to the room. There was a giant hand lodged in there, covered in straw-colored fur, its meat hook claws preventing the mechanism from sealing. As he watched, the pirate captain strained against the automatic door, her biceps bulging through her leather jacket and her limbs trembling as she came into view through the widening gap. Her chest was soaked with blood, but her mask was still on, and she was still conscious. Her expression was twisted with rage behind the clear plastic rebreather, her sharp teeth bared in a snarl. She was as strong as ten men, and even she was struggling to keep the door open, fighting against the machinery that was doing its utmost to close the breach.

Eriksen watched in a mixture of awe and horror as she heaved, getting her second hand between the door and its frame, forcing herself inside the hab module as she strained to stop it from closing on her like a guillotine. By the time she broke through and fell to her knees on the carpeted floor, the door sealing behind her with a hermetic hiss, Eriksen was already running for the cockpit. He slammed his palms against the door, remembering that he had locked it down as part of his ruse, his trembling fingers failing him as he tried in vain to tap in another override code.

The pirate captain removed her mask, dropping it on the deck and sucking in a heaving breath of fresh air, then rose to her feet unsteadily. Her gaze locked onto Eriksen as he hammered frantically at the keypad, the alien lumbering inexorably towards him, slowly gaining as she recovered from her ordeal.

"You," she spat, her voice dripping with malice. Her low growl shook Eriksen's bones as he failed again to enter the correct key code. His body just wouldn't respond properly, his shaking hand couldn't do what he required of it. He could feel her eyes burning into his back like laser beams from across the corridor, her bulk almost large enough to fill it, her heavy footfalls making the deck beneath his feet vibrate.

"You killed my crew," she snarled, "you tried to space me."

He turned to face her, pressing flat against the cockpit door as if he might somehow melt into it and escape, his rapid breathing misting his plastic visor. She tore it from his head as if it were made of paper, discarding the tattered, yellow hood on the floor and closing her hand around his neck. He clawed at her thick fingers with his nails as she lifted him off the deck, but his struggling was to no avail. He started to choke as she glared at him, her pupils dilated like those of a cat. He kicked her in the chest, and she barely flinched, the only show of pain a momentary twitch of her eye. Just how the hell had she survived his mag dump anyway, did she have a ceramic plate under that jacket too? It seemed unlikely, she had bled a lot, her leather jacket was stained red with it.

"I should commend you," she said, her voice strained as if she was expending all of her willpower to save from simply biting his face off. "Nobody has ever come so close to killing me before today." His feet kicked at the air as she tightened her grip around his throat, cutting off his air supply as he fought impotently. "You spaced my entire pack, would have gotten me too if it wasn't for the mask I had in my pocket. If I had been one of you fleshy little humans, that pea shooter would have finished the job."

She reached into his pocket with her free hand and retrieved the Walther, crushing the polymer handgun in her palm as if it was made of cardboard, letting the pieces fall unceremoniously to the floor.

"Now we're all alone together, you and I. Nobody knows you're here, and nobody is coming to save you. I can get back on my shuttle whenever I like and return to the Black Claw, but first I want to reward you for your courage and your ingenuity."

Somehow he doubted that. Perhaps it was her sarcastic tone. As darkness started to obscure his peripheral vision, she released him. He fell on his ass, rubbing the fresh bruise that she had left on his neck as he caught his breath, the alien pirate towering over him as she watched. Her expression had changed, she was still furious, but there was something else there too. Hunger, desire, did these aliens eat humans?

"First I'm going to need the keycode to the cockpit door," she said, "are you going to save yourself a lot of pain and just give it to me or am I going to have to beat it out of you?"

Eriksen didn't have anything to lose now, there was no way out of this situation. He was as good as dead and regardless of what he did he wouldn't be completing his cargo run. He was exhausted by exertion and fear, but an odd sense of defiance came over him. He was going to die regardless of what he did, and so he might as well make this Borealan's life as hard as possible. She seemed to sense it in him before he had spoken a word and her lips curled into a cruel smile.

"You know, I've never had a human defy me before. They either comply out of fear, or they die resisting. This is the first time I've taken a human alive who's still trying to fight me." She leaned closer to him, smelling him, her breath blowing his hair. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you. I'll induct you into my pack and become your Alpha, then you'll tell me what I need to know."

"I'm not going to join your pirate crew if that's what you're asking."

"No, that's not it. You really know nothing of my people, do you? You'll find out soon enough."

She was right, although he was starting to get a fairly good idea. They seemed to operate like wolves, with a leader who the others followed unquestioningly, that was why her crew had been so meek and submissive around her. Did she think that human society operated the same way and that she could somehow dominate him, or intimidate him into doing her bidding? He'd die first. She wasn't getting through that door, that would be his final fuck you.

She didn't seem angry or frustrated, however. She only smiled wider, exposing more of her sharp teeth as she tugged him to his feet by the torn collar of his emergency pressure suit. She took him by the upper arm and steered him back towards one of the cabins in the hab module, opening a door to an unused bedroom and hurling him inside.

CHAPTER 3: GENTLE PERSUASION

The pirate ducked under the low doorway, the exit sealing behind her with a pneumatic hiss, Eriksen picking himself up and brushing himself off defiantly.

"Take your suit off," she commanded.

"Make me," he replied.

She seemed to shiver, not out of anger, but something else.

"I'd be delighted to..."

She strode across the room, covering it quickly on her long legs, her claws tearing at the padded carpeting on the floor. The whole room was beige, and everything was padded like it was a cell in a nuthouse. In the case of a sudden deceleration or a loss of gravity, the occupant's injuries would be lessened if they were to slam against a surface. There was a similarly padded bed, a bedside table that protruded from the wall and could be stowed in a recess during superlight, and a locker for clothes and personal belongings. The space was so small that there was nowhere for him to flee, and so he planted himself on the spot, glaring at the alien as she approached him. She sank her hooked claws into the collar of his suit, tearing the yellow plastic apart like it was tissue paper, splitting the torso down the middle. She gripped him by the face and lifted him off the carpet, dragging the tattered garment down past his flailing legs and off, dropping him back to the floor when she was done. He felt exposed without the protection of the suit, clad in only a tank top and a pair of longjohns. He wasn't accustomed to dressing for company when he lived alone on a freighter for months at a time.

"Eriksen," she muttered, examining the name tag on the breast of the shredded pressure suit. "So that's your name. Mine is Nazka, but you can call me Captain, or Alpha."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Eriksen shot back sarcastically, and she grinned at him.

"You know, I'm almost glad that you killed my crew and ruined my heist. I'm going to have so much fun breaking you in. It's almost going to be worth the hit to my pocketbook."

"You talk like it's a done deal," he replied, "but you're not getting that door code. This is my freighter, and I'm going to take it to the fucking grave with me."

"That's not what I'm talking about," she sighed, hooking the zipper of her leather jacket in her curved claw and dragging it down to let her considerable bust spread the garment open. "I'm about to give you a lesson in respect. Borealans know when to submit, and they understand the chain of command, the value of strength. You humans need...encouragement in order to see things clearly, but I believe that you can be taught proper behavior by someone with a firm hand. Just be glad that I'm an experienced captain, a younger Borealan would have had you bleeding and writhing on the deck at the first snide remark."

Now Eriksen was getting worried, he didn't know what she was babbling about. Just what was she going to do with him? She advanced towards him again, and he stepped backwards, feeling his calf hit the edge of the bed. Her long tail, covered in the same blonde fur that was on her hands and feet, coiled around his leg like a tentacle and pulled it out from under him. He fell on his back, and Nazka stepped over him, turning and taking a seat on the bed. It sagged under her weight, scarcely bigger than a chair by her standards, and she reached down to grip his hair in her thick fingers. He winced as she turned him to face her, Eriksen scrambling to his knees as she tugged at his scalp. She released him, and he started to rise to his feet, but a firm hand on his head kept him down.

"No, on your knees, cur. I'm going to teach you how to behave like a Borealan."

She used her sharp claws to cut the straps on his tank top, and it fell away to leave his chest bare, her yellow eyes playing over his body. He was in shape by human standards, he had to be. If he didn't keep up his exercise routine while in deep space the sedentary lifestyle would cut thirty years off his lifespan. She seemed to like what she saw, wetting her lips as she parted her massive thighs. Realizing what was happening, Eriksen prepared for a fight, struggling against the hand that still gripped a fistful of his unkempt hair. She tied her flexible tail around his wrists and bound them behind his back, the damned thing was like an appendage in its own right.

"If you think I'm gonna-"

She pulled her massive handgun from its holster and spun it on her finger, releasing his hair from her grasp and pressing the cold barrel against the top of his head, Eriksen freezing in place.

"Oh, you are, believe me. Because if you don't, my revolver is going to turn your head into a cloud of red mist."

"You threaten me with torture, and you think killing me outright is going to scare me into submission?"

He heard the click of the hammer, glancing up to see her peering down at him with a smirk on her face.

"I suppose not, but it really gets me going, so hurry up before I have to find more creative ways to motivate you."

He leaned a little closer, his heart starting to race as the reality of his situation set in. She smelled of leather, she was clad from head to toe in it, and there was a new scent that he didn't recognize. It was feminine, musky, the scent of her body no doubt. It was oddly alluring. Life on a freighter didn't exactly afford him many opportunities for romance. He hadn't been with a woman in...damn, how long had it been now?

"The sooner you submit to me, the sooner you can start enjoying this," she said. "Who knows, if you're a good lay maybe I'll take you back to the Black Claw with me. How do you feel about becoming a cabin boy?"

"I'd rather eat a bullet," he spat.

"I think you'll change your mind when you've gotten to know me better," she chuckled. "I've heard rumors that humans give great head, so don't disappoint me."

She unfastened a large belt that was tight around her wide hips, pulling down another zipper on her crotch, then she rose from the bed for a moment to pull her brown leather pants down around her ankles. She fell back down heavily, the bed frame creaking its displeasure, the alien exposing her white panties to him. They were already sodden. She really wasn't lying, this did turn her on. Just what kind of psychopath was she? Were these aliens all like this?

Eriksen felt an involuntary twinge beneath his longjohns as he traced the contours of her body with his eyes. He had heard that the Borealans were tough, but he had expected some kind of natural defenses like those of the reptilian Krell. That wasn't the case, however. Nazka looked remarkably human beneath her clothing, she had no armored exoskeleton or defensive scales, she was just incredibly...developed. Her wide hips tapered into an hourglass waist, her leather clothing so tight that it creaked when she moved, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her thighs were as thick and as round as tree trunks, such that he doubted his fingers would meet on the other side was he to wrap his arms around one. Muscles like suspension cables bulged from beneath her burnished skin, so dark that it was almost black, shining with a layer of sweat that only served to further accentuate her anatomy in the cabin's dim light. She caught his expression, lifting the bloodstained shirt that she wore beneath her leather jacket to expose her belly to him, tight and firm with twin rows of abdominal muscles that were as chiseled as those of a Greek statue. It was a body that would put Olympians to shame.

She was covered in pink scars too. They contrasted against her dusky skin, they seemed to be all over her. There was one that crossed her belly as if something had once tried to gut her, there was one on her hip, and a long one that ran across her six-pack to name but a few. He watched a bead of sweat follow the deep channel that her abs cut in her skin as it trickled towards her navel, swallowing hard, trying not to show her how impressed he was.

"See somethin' you like?" Nazka teased, her tail tightening around his wrists like a rope. "Don't worry, you're going to be intimately familiar with every inch of me before I'm done with you. Now get to it."

She hooked her fingers around the back of his head, pulling him between her legs, his cheek brushing against her inner thigh. She was as smooth as glass, her skin damp with sweat that made it slippery to the touch. She was surprisingly soft despite how muscular she was. He felt his heart skip in his chest, his face reddening as she pulled her panties aside to expose her loins, glistening and pink. She spread her thick lips with her fingers, and a strand of her excitement dripped free.

His heart hammered in his chest, and it wasn't because of the gun barrel that was pressing against his head. He felt almost drunk as he watched her rosy flesh leak in anticipation. Get it together Eriksen, he thought to himself, don't give this bitch the satisfaction.

She forced his face deeper, and his lips met hers, already slick with her juices and fever-hot. She knocked him gently on the top of his head with the handgun's barrel, her way of encouraging him.

"Come on Eriksen, don't hold out on me."

Reluctantly, he dragged his tongue across her vulva, feeling the massive alien's powerful thighs close around his head and an appreciative shiver roll up her spine. She froze for a moment, a gasp escaping her throat, then he felt her muscles relax again.

"Oh yeah...this is gonna work out just fine," she mumbled. "Keep it up."

He ran the tip of his tongue over her subtle creases and folds, tracing the contours of her sex as her viscous excitement coated his lips and ran down his chin to hang in strands. Everything about her was larger and more exaggerated than anything that he was used to. He tasted the sweat on her dark skin, her sour juices, her feminine scents scratching at the back of his brain like a dog shut out in the rain. He wasn't going to let her in, his will was stronger than this. He had half a mind to bite her sensitive anatomy, but that would surely result in her hand cannon going off prematurely.

She seemed unusually taken with his efforts. He knew his way around a woman, but she was reacting like he was far better at this than he knew himself to be. Tremors of pleasure made her steely thighs tremble around his cheeks as he sucked and licked. She had mentioned something about humans giving good head, perhaps there was some anatomical difference between them that he didn't know about. In any case, he was driving her to distraction, her heavy bust rising and falling with her labored breathing under the bloody shirt that she wore.

She put her gun down beside her on the bed and started to remove her jacket, leaving Eriksen to his own devices as she shrugged the garment off. He looked up over her mound, a tuft of blonde pubic hair that was as soft and as silky as cat fur tickling his nose. His heart lurched in his chest as he got a front-row view of her bulging stomach muscles as they twisted and flexed, the veneer of sudor that coated her polished skin catching the light to accentuate them. Nazka pulled her shirt over her head, and let two breasts the size of watermelons fall heavily as their support was removed. How could she carry those damned things around with her? Each one was larger than his head and must have weighed as much as a fully loaded UNN rucksack. Eriksen watched from below as they settled, bouncing enticingly, drawing his gaze as he continued his mouthing.

She reached up with the black claws on her index finger and thumb, and he noticed that there was blood on her chest, darker than that of a human and hard to see on her ebony skin. Nazka winced, baring her carnivore teeth as she dug into her own flesh, spilling fresh blood as she appeared to dig for something with her talons. He stopped in shock, pulling back from her loins, linked to his lips by a rope of stringy nectar.