Piracy's Price Imprisoned


Written by septia.


The flicker of virtual parchment hummed like a song in the air, as the masked figure searched through notes in their picslate. “Trixia Vun'Aran,” the officer read out as Trix was brought forward. A guard framing them with arms locking their elbows on each side. 

She stepped forward only to be tugged back in line, her gut lagging behind -Chhgrlthtwps- A slosh from the engorged abdomen sloughing back into place, the contorted bulk of a teardrop bloat gyrating to and fro.

“Of the Vun'Aran, family. With origin in the in Gynegene Cluster, Gynegea, of the invasive indigenous Gynegean species. Do you know why you have been apprehended?” 
	“Because I didn't speed off in time?” Trix curted with a flick of her antennae. 
	The black visor shielding the officer's eyes in their helmet gave her no privy. 
	“You face dual charges of, theft: the unlawful requisition of the Lanam Pearl, an artefact under the protection of Öde Allegro. Second, the unlawful ingestion of a ÖA officer.” The officer peered up from the slate, looking at the gut; it laid large enough to contain a curled up humanoid twice over. The officer jammed a digit into the gut -Glrpsthhat- the white space suits clashing, Trix's gut cratering inwards with a churn of displaced clay -Ggrrlgshp-. “Pending manslaughter charges.” 

“You’re blowing this, way, out of proportions.” 
	“You will be jailed until species representatives have been made available, where you will face due process.” The officer tucked the slate under their arm, “bring her in.” 
	“Wait you aren't, you are not telling Cion about this. I don't want mom involved in this, do you hear me?” Trix called out as she was dragged off by the uniformed, helmet wearing officers. She wasn't dignified a response. 

Her tool belt was confiscated. Blaster, scanner, both confiscated. An officer forcefully reset her spacesuit, leading the projected nanomesh to retract back into the collar around her neck, before that too was stripped off of her, leaving her bare in her lime green skin. And without the support, -Ghrbgllsp- her stomach dipped deeper, with a gruelling churn, the weight more distinct without the strain, which in private circumstances would have been satisfying, though now she was in the constant company of guards restraining and feeling her up. 
	“Preparing ultra ray screening,” an officer announced, bringing up a transparent screen and lining it up with Trix's profile, fragments on the display merging line by line into an imagine, formed in the confines of her contours. 
	“By Be-bai…” the officer swore as they stared at the graph.” 
	“Contraband?” another officer asked, stepping up. 
	“What, no it is just… look at this,” they said, tilting the screen towards them. 
	Within laid Trix's beating organs on display, and the largest of all was her stomach, blotting out the spherical gut and digestive tract. The uppermost chamber protruding the peak of the spherical abdomen, partially conflated by swirling fumes, with its lower half drowned in a deluge of burgundy sludge intermingled with streaks of white caulc and yellowed strands. But nestled in all of this was the shape of a leg, wrapped in silver uniform, melding in with the surrounding sludge, but jutting out like a grave marker from the gruel. 
	“Is that…” the other officer mumbled and zoomed in, following the shape with a finger down along Trix's intestines, seeing the sculpt of hips, glutes, and torso gradually decayed as the shape was packed taut, with stray feathers jotting out of the heap, following the indents indicating a humanoid form as it transmuted from vaguely lifelike to a clotted bile of yellow within webs of molten polymer uniform clinging to the remains. 
	-Hickkahp- As Trix hiccuped the gut retched upwards, coming down jostling and revolving the mulch in the Gynegean's gutters, the motion in the gut invoked a struggle, but further down the tract there was just a sluggish gruel -Chgrllprghsh-. 
	“Be-bai…,” the second officer agreed, “it's barely been four hours.” 
	“Poor bastard, would have been done for long before we could attempt rescue.” 
	Trix quivered, peering down at her gut. “Don't you worry, we will be fine,” she mumbled. 
	“What was that?” 
	“I, was,” Trixie mumbled, “just talking to, my belly,” she admitted. 
	The second officer looked to the first. 
	“Checks out, it is something a gynease would do.” 
	That word… stirred quivers up Trix's antennae. “I'm Gynegean, alright?” she demanded, naked, in a searching hold cell. 
	An officer approached from behind, strapping a collar to her neck. “You, are under arrest.” they clarified, hit a button, and fabric manifested down her body, wrapped up in a honey stark yellowed fabric, with a number tag on her chest and arms: 0204. 


~ 1 ~


The hollow clank of some metal polymer clacked under their steps, Trix peering around the facility. The interior of the oval ship was broken down into five levels, walkways spanning to the floors with stairs placed sparingly, the cells lining the walls of each level, alcoves suspended behind a pale cyan lattice. She could make out silhouettes, but for those in the distance, and the cells she passed held a range off creatures, species of all of numerous shapes and sizes. She saw bavonians, foromodial, Lentigucs, and so many more, that she, couldn't place. 

“Barrier access,” a guard said, before they halted, and the mesh in front of cell parted. “This is your designated cell. Mandatory breaks issued for two hours of each rotation.” 
	Trix looked back at the guards, then at the opening in the mesh of cyan light. “Don’t suppose I could cash in those break hours right now?” 
	The officer shoved Trix's back, the past two meter alien stumbled through the opening, before the mesh coalesced behind her. 

	“Hey, I was,” she mumbled, watching the guards vacate the area. Trix's antennae trembled, clasping her chin. She took inventory of the room: three chairs, two by a table, one with transom in the left middle. To the right, two alcoves, with a mattress and bedding, the bottom bunk displaced to fit a cabinet in the corner. And the top bunk… was occupied. A bouquet of white hair peeking up at the edge of the bed, the back face turned away from her, staring at the ceiling. Along with ears that laid slacked down along the waves of the white locks. 

Trix cleared her throat, knitting her fingers together. “So, can assume they caught you too, huh? What's your n-.” 
	She was cut off by a voice projected into the cell, Sharp, curt, rugged; like rebar piercing through concrete. “Fourth.” 
	“Is… that your name?” Trix wondered. 
	Six clicks of the cellmate’s lips, each one clicking along like a disappointed clockwork -Clt- -Clt- -Clt- -Clt- -Clth- -Clktk-. “Wrong. That,” the voice said, as the figure rose from the bed, “would be you.” 

Trix saw their head in profile, their lower face forming a muzzle half a hand from their skull, swatched in an onyx coat in contrast to their onyx skin, and a white coat matching heir hair, cloaked in the same yellowed garb she had been provided. Her’s marked with a 0082 tag. 
	“First and third 'ad ta be separated from me, or they'd be beaten ta 'a ௫۝꘩ᲯÖŒȹȹ pulp. As goes for number two…,” she mused and looked towards the third seat, the lidded one grafted to the wall. 
	Some words appeared not to pass through the translation filter, though Trix was able to pick up the context without issues. 
	“Well, I ain't ‘bout to map out a painting of it, but ah think ya get the picture. An yer fourth, I'd advice ya ta get the ꬶ¤Ϡ▼ῳ along with me.” The equine-esque creature spoke, before fully turning to feast her eyes on Trix. The sapphire eyes landed on her gut. The inmate's ears hoisted level with her eyebrows at the sight, “Heh, waddyaknow, looks like they finally paired me up wiff someone of good taste.” 
	Trix peeked down at her engorged abdomen, clutched by the yellowed polymer. “This? More trouble than it was worth, really, got me into this whole mess.” Trix mumbled as she walked in, a step matching rhythm with a contraction and rumble of her gut -Chghrlpghs- to ease the pressure on a buckshot of smog penetrating through her backside -Brbt-PPwttwwfffrrrtp- burbling out in rowdy fog, dissipating into the air like the sparks of a firecracker and leaving a thin haze of torched, cheesy hazelnuts in its wake. 

The inmate's ears erected straight, the curved flaps standing on end, to then slant down to level, a smile tickling her muzzle. “Oi, got some power in that keg too, don't cha?” 
	Trix blinked, then smirked, “That was average at best, you should hear me when I've actually had a filling meal,” she said, boasting some confidence as she patted her belly for emphasis, 'lil ripples wavering beneath the fabric -Btbtsm- -Bbttshp-. 
	“Ya don't say,” the equine mused, swaying her legs off of the bed, the long triple jointed limbs coming to the ground with a clack of her hooves. The woman stepping up to Trix, a touch shorter, though their pride and confidence more than a match for the space heroine. 
	
“Alright, ya earned yourself an introduction,” she said and brushed back her mane. “I'm Urlan Xutan, of the unkhari nomads, but on my wanted notice I'm bettah known as Captain Urlan, leader of the roughback space pirates.” 

Trix's eyes bulged. The last two words playing on repeat in her mind 'space pirate', 'space pirate'. Then her spine stiffened as she remembered: Captain. She was cast back into the embrace of memory, in the arms of Cion in a better time. Tales of grand adventures, ruthless pillaging, daring rescues, of pirates, rogue traders, and privateers across the stars. Yet, her imagination, or holo projections could not capture the feeling of seeing one in the flesh. Trix inhaled, a slew of questions and adorations hanging on her tongue… but she tempered herself. After all… Trix was a bit of a spacefarer herself, she had to walk common ground with Urlan; sure she didn't have a crew, a particularly large ship, or, much experience… but she was daring.

“You got me curious, what's yer name?” 
	Trix grimaced. “Oh that's, just details.” 
	The equine clacked her broad lips. -Thh- -Clk- -Cllkt- “You could just stay as ‘fourth’ then.” 
	To this she relented. “I'm, Trix.” 
	“That's it? Where you from, what even are ya? Spit it out, gal. If your mouth's half as good as your backside you'd be more than capable of tellin me all ya 'lil titles.” the woman said with a caress of Trix's radiant tangerine flaming hair. 
	Trix sighed. “I'm… Trix Vun'Aran, of the Vun'Aran, of Gynegea.” she admitted with a slackened face and exasperated sigh, as if she'd just admitting to crashing a ship while out on a joyride. 
	The inmate just stared at her, waiting. “And?” 
	Trix's expression softened. “Of… the gynegeans?” she attempted. 
	The inmate clacked her lip with a shake of her head. 
	“The… great invaders? Space fairing system conquerors?” Trixs tried. 
	“Can't say I have ever heard of em. Impressive boasting title, though.” 
	 Sure, when someone on a disconnected world or such didn't know her, that was fine, that was the part of the point of discovering the galaxy. But… a notorious, well fared space captain… who had never herded of her species… “Are… you sure?” 

Urlan clicked her lips and traced her finger along Trix's shoulder. “Doesn’t matter in the end, what matters is I got you, right here, alone in our 'lil cell. You lookin a ‘lil worked up still, how bout we ease off some tension?” she mused, moistening her upper lip, “break the ice, and break in your new bed together, hmm? You could do with working off some of this.” She clutched a hold of Trix's gut -Ghrhurhghs- the stomach gurgling as her broad digits sunk through the fabric in a light pinch, disappearing in Trix's blubber, her muzzle close to Trix's lips, ears gently rising, breath warm against the Gynegean's face. 
	While not, completely, certain, Trix did register some common tells of what would be considered “advances” from Urlan. Urlan had been quiet for a while. Uh oh, wait, this meant she had to reciprocate? Trix scanned her memory back to social gathers she had attended in the past, searchign for something appropriate to say. There, she found it, and he put on a smug face. “Then you better believe I'll smoke you, and put you out to dry~,” she finished with a wink. 
	
Urlan's ears flicked up for a moment before falling flaccid along the waves of her white hair. She made a few steps distance between them. The equine scrutinized Trix up and down. “So,” she began, slowly, “it's not just yer skin that's green.” 
	“Huh?” Trix said, her antennae twitching stiff, “Was ah... Did I say something wrong? Was it not steamy enough?” 
	A muted chuckle wheezed out of Urlan's nostrils. “Right, that's yer problem, Greenie. So what, or, who, did ya stuff down that gut?” 
	“One of the officers in my way,” Trix said, attempting to regain some standing. 
	“Serves' em right, the ꬶ¤Ϡ▼ῳ showed most of me crew the same hospitality,” Urlan said and sat back in Trix's bottom bunk, “just a few good ones left, rotting with me in this prison.” 
	Trix made a face. “Sorry?” 
	“It's fine. Got a few good ones outside too, one just might come fer me rescue.” 
	“Must be nice having someone out there who wants you to succeed,” Trix mumbled. 
	“Hah, right. It's been a good few weeks now, dunno if that ௫۝Ꙛⴃⴙⴙ꘨ᵺ will ever show up, but he be my ௫۝Ꙛⴃⴙⴙ꘨ᵺ. Guess ya don't got no one then?” 
	Trix's antennae drooped. 

-Ggrhbrbgllgpgh- A churning growl rustled out of her stomach -Chhrlrlghs- a crackling and gnashing of fudge trawling through the guts with her stomach shrinking back “Ougugh, where's the bathroom?” 
	“Help yourself.” 
	Trix looked to the third seat Urlan gestured to. “What?” 
	The unkhari rose and opened the lid, revealing a seat and bowl, close to the top of the bowl laid a mesh of inner wires, blocking the more than three deci deep compartment. 
	“Built to accommodate a range of species, liquids phase through, solids weight down the net, until it’s gathered and, then…” she said and raise a leg, a crack ringing out in the air as she stomped her hoof down to trigger the mesh and retracting an instant later just before a sheet of hard polymer closed over the lid. The net was bundled up to a satchel, and sluiced off into the piping system, before a new net was woven in and the polymer sheet atop withdrew. “Everything's analysed and reused.”

	Seeing such a, limited bowl triggered something in Trix's mind, her stomach knotting, grasping over her swollen abdomen. “Ooh... that, won't be big enough.” 
	“What is all the noise?” A guard on patrol said, aiming a stunrifle to the cell. 
	Urlan's eyes flicked between the guard and Trix. “Listen up, you ꚀⴥꙜ↑¤฿Å, think that wimpy bowl’s gonna last for this?” she said and slapped Trix's gut so it jostled like clotted gelatine. “I sure as ꬶ¤Ϡ▼ῳ ain't be cleaning up after she's blown the piping's fuse.” 
	“Gmmrhhg...” Trix whimpered and clutched her gut firm, stifling the oncoming onslaught. 
	The pointy eared guard sighed. 


~ 2 ~


“You got ten minutes. We won't leave the door.” 
	“Mmrhmm, got it already,” Trix wheezed and shut the door. 

The bathroom was half the size of the cell, and actually had a sink and accommodations. Plonking herself back onto the seat, the yellowed suit dispersing into an opening along the perimeter of the considerably larger bowl, “phaa,” Trix said as she leaned back, drumming her fingers along her gut which sloughed down over her lap. “Rushed as this meal was, you're probably the best I'll have for a while here… so I'm gonna enjoy it,” she mused under her breath and grunted, feeling the pressure building at her rear, cheeks cleaving apart, pucker protruding, straining before…
	
-Pppbbrrrppfpppwrprprwwrrth- The thundering reverb of the humid trumpet blast could be heard past the door. The guard with pear shaped ears turning his head to the door. “Beiba… that's loud.” 
	“Just try not to think about it, you aren't paid for commentary.” The other guard mumbled. 
	
-Bbrprphtthhthsh- -Spptttrrrwhh- The salvos of smog blurted out Trix's hips, rattling down the bowl, gradually Trix's pucker filled up, clogged with a patch of blackened, mossy tar. The substance swelled in girth till it matched the melon-wide gaping pit of the Gynegean's rump, trickling down against the cusp of the brim with a pitter-patter of glistening oils seeping along grooves between pucker and mulch. The charred verdant crinkling past the grasp of the lips -Chhrlrpghht- to the smear of stirring plastic bags into a stew -Cshhrlptsh-. 

“Mmfm fmmpghsh,” Trix wheezed, clutching over her stomach, rolling her knuckles down along her abdomen in rhythm with the gurgles -Ghhgllghs-. “Mmf, yes…” she mumbled, that log had been stuck in there for days now… Her brim spread, contorted round along the loaf budging past, a mutated olive plugging up her hind. Gradually it creamed past the lips, past its zenith, until… -Shfprlptishhth- the egg of opaque, dusky moss squealed out of her pit and toppled into the netting below, -Bbwnng- the webbing strained under the bulk, bungeed down with the load nestled on top, jiggling like a gelatine, the threading digging into the skin of the mound, tensing its surface… 

-Ppwhhrrwooruslp- The skin burst, freed with a -Shhrrllrpsth- snap of lather into a bog ruptured into nothing, the thin shell of its membrane shed off and contracted along the fissures into thin congealed wires. Without the shell, it unleashed what was stored inside: a deep, oily tar glistening with sparkles of stardust, with the loss of its membrane the bile lost its shape, sloughing down to a heap and draining through the mesh like creamy gravy -Shhflrpth- -Bgllrlslpshhths-.


“What was that?” 
	“What is she doing in there?” 
	“Sounds like unauthorized biochem use.” 
	The sharp eared guard sledgehammered in a combination on his helmet. “Retrieving feed.” Then he was silent for a moment, and released his helmet. “Live feed off…” 
	“What? What was it?” 
	“I have nothing to report…” 


Trix panted heavily. “Mmf, oook. With that out of the way, we got, the star of the show. What you fmms get for trying to capture me.” Trix hissed through clasped teeth, her antennae bulbs bobbing. 

Her pucker constricting to a concaved pit before contorting outwards, warping wide with dark green oils slathered between her pucker, gaping open over a wide block of dense, saffron yellow -Chhrrlslptths- the pucker wrung smooth over the surface, squealing like a polished window across the face of the champagne yellowed bale prying its way out of Trix's pucker. 

One could see an imprint in of deeper amber, ridges and valleys smoothened flat to the surface of the mound… and it formed togethere, into the picture of a cranium. An amber remnant of the Öde Allegro officer's skull, fossilized flat into the marbled bale of jellied concrete plodging down into the embrace of the strained netting below. The oily, star shimmering bile smeared along, but the vaguely blocky bale of clay working into it -Shhcllrpsth- Creaking and sloughing, smearing the bile under its bulk as it plied down into the guttural lattice -Chrrlpstht-.

Across the bale's side were ridges of amber, protruding along the bumpy texture of the block to grind against Trix's brim, cluttered patterns of skeletal tissue, assorted ribs and vertebrae molten down with the officer's lard into one greasy bale. -Vrrrlhrrrllsppthsh- -Klspthhtsh- along the surface. As more of the bale wedged out, came vines of glistening alabaster, globular dots streaked flat by the steamrolling pucker, connected by winding, thin tethers like the limbs of a spindly amphibian. The molten clutches of the officer's suit still clinging to what remained of them after forgding through a Gynegean's digestive tract. 
	
Trix hoisted up her gut in her lap, massaging into it, wedging her cheeks to and fro as the mound transitioned further and further into pale plastic, -Chhrrllspthst- -Pthhflllsth- the mound sloughing diagonally to fit in the bowl, the mesh net straining as it bore the weight of the clustered manure. Trix raised her rear gently off the seat as a coil of clotted spider silk mesh billowed past her hind, slobbered down across the pastel flax yellow bale, burying the foiled traces of the officer under his own uniform. 

“Mmpghs apha, sometimes the clothes just add thatmfms, extra something,” she hummed out, and pinched her pucker taut over the mound as she felt a broil brew though her -Cbrhrghghs- and slammed her hind down just right at its peak, unleashing a torrent of vapous -PPPprbbbrrrpppwoooooorprht- with a rush and force of raw steam the whole bowl trembled under the force, pealing out like a bell with an echo of the blast amplified through the metal goblet -Fbbbrrpfrrrrrnngn-. 
	

Outside, the pear eared guard kept flexing his fingers. “You… certain, there is nothing, going on?” he mumbled. 
	“I'm not checking that feed again.” The pointed guard staunched. 
	The first guard paused. 
	
-Thhtbwwpttwmp- A thud tumbled out through from the toilet. Followed by a soft coo. Then another, like a trove of putty dropped onto a rubber wheel -Chhtwddbwbgh- -Cfrfbrrprppfth- -Ckkptwhfsbwng-. 
	
“That cannot possibly be…” the pear eared guard grumbled and punched in a combination on his helmet, his visor flaring up a feed of the inside. He stilled. “D-damn… Be-bai…” he whispered in awe. 
	“It is almost like you don't listen to me…” The other guard grunted. 
	“That's, fine I believe you now just… that is… impressive…” 


“Mmpggha mahah…” Trix panted, prying back her cheeks with both arms as the seat wide pellets of dark burgundy extruded past her rear, cleaned and molding around by her cheeks before being deposited into the bowl -Cllptthsht- clasping into the muck already there, curving to meld into place like a liquid puzzle. 

Dense sludge -Chhrlrlpghs- bars gradually warping together, folding and merging with fissures and crevices, forming networks of labyrinths across the surface. Rising up, out of the bowel with the net sprawled to its tips. -Chhlpht- A constant crinkle and popping of grime nudging together -Chsptlath-Vrrrhhllsp- “Mmfpfs…” Trix mumbled, her antennae vibrating like violin strings. Usually, their purity gel would contain a Gynegean's refuse, but this left the aromas of spiced jerky broiled in walnuts and molten asphalt to run rampant, the smog sloughing down from the bowl in tendrils, encroaching and conquering the room in the wake of its smog. Her stomach contracted, clutching with each heave, pucker pinching to expedite out a puddle of slimy alabaster, the creamy white slathering down the red mulch in droplets before solidifying like wax -Dghrlsth-. 

“Phaa…” Trix huffed, raising up properly from the stuffed bowl and brushing down her slender physique, more than a whole officer's carcass weight of bile, and then some, stuffing the receptacle. “Phoe… Pho,” she huffed, antennae daintily bobbing. “That's a good haul if I have to boast, better than expected, at least from jerks like you. Put me in a prison? I'll put you in the gutters.” Trix pondered over her action one liner. But shook her head, perhaps she needed some practice, or some help. 

-Vhrh- A crinkle shuddered through the bile. Her eyes snapped open, antennae standing on end. She remembered… -Grhrhhghs- as the bile slowly descended into the expanding toilet seat, Trix reached through the upper bale of mulch, scooping up handfuls of mulch that caved under her grasp like hot marshmallow -Crslphht- -Clsgpthh- until… the buzz and squirm steadily amplified. Once it peaked she slapped her palm over it. “Found you. But, now shush…” 


The guards heard the water running form the sink. Tapping their boots to the ground. “It’s, been ten minutes.” The pointy eared one said. 
	“Do you wanna get her out of there before she's cleaned herself up?” 
	This shut the second officer up. Promptly. 


~ 3 ~


-Msnfffffn- Urlan sampled he air… leather jerky, nuts, fried legumes and asphalt… She turned her head, seeing Trix being let back in. 
	“Your new diet will assure you won't need to use the facilities again,” the pointy eared guard said, as the mesh net boards weaved close. 
	“My, yer quite a spinky strumpet without all that ballast on ya.” 
	Trix mumbled. “Pwhua? Dhed thhhy mwean a-baout dhiiet?” 
	“Shocker, food 'ere ain't to die for, unless it’s literally. Why you mumble?” she noted. 

Trix’s left cheeks swelled up, then it siphoned to her right, she held over her mouth, then parted her lips “Bphgah…” she mouthed, drool trailing down her lips, as a vaguely spherical bulb sloughed into her palms. It buckled, hissed, and four sets of wires sprouted from the top, and folded into a pair of insectile wings with a micrometer thin membrane of glistening blue spanning between them. Two sets of bright green visors opened up to compound eyes, and with a faint buzz the wings flittered into motion, and it rose flying into the air. When it came into gear, all sound and sight of the wings were eliminated. 

Confusion made way for a dastardly grin spreading over Urlan's muzzle. “A drone.” 
	“Swallowed em before getting captured, just in case things turned south…” Trix mused. The drone turned to her and made a sparking buzz -Bbzrt- “I told you it would be fine, before,” she pointed out. 
	Urlan laid an arm around Trix's shoulders. “Great initiative, Greenie… With your 'lil friend, we might have just enough contraband…” she mused. 
	Trix tilted her gaze down in line with Urlan. “You mean…?” 
	“We're breaking out…” 


~ 4 ~


A synthesized tone rung through the cells, starting from the ones at the back and leading all the way to the front. Trix looked through the gaps in the flight fence keeping them hostage. Outside, the guards were converging, different shapes and sizes but all dressed in a similar silver uniform, helmets and black visors who's main distinguishing factor remained the different shaped ears and antennae compartments. Some guard ÖA officers walked up the stairway between prison levels, others were beamed up by gravitational contraptions, until every guard sat safe behind a compartment carved out in the walls of the ship. 

“Designated break time will be provided in sixty seconds.” A voice on the speaker units called.
	Trix looked back to Urlan. 
	“Ya sure this contraption of yours is stealthy enough?” 
	Trix peeked down at the info-bug in her hands, flittering its near invisible wings. “She’s pretty stealthy.”
	Urlan nodded. “I can live with pretty…” she said and stood. 

“Proceed to Jux field, sluice commencing,” came from the speakers. The field dispersed, reeling back into the walls with a flair of dust left in its wake that added into the air. Trix followed Urlan's example as they stepped out. -Bbtwnzznch- just for two fields in the same light as the gate mesh to materialise outside on the walkway, blocking their movements. With only the open air over the trailing lefr open, a screen of the same liquid light manifested. Trix observed that all cell doors had opened this way, the over two hundred prisoners stepping out on the walkways between the energy fields. Then, the fields shifted, slowly moving in a walking pace in one single direction… and everyone followed along. The opening to the ship’s center was, somewhat suspicious. Trix peeked at Urlan, who shook her head. 
	Urlan looked across the gap, to the other side of the ship twenty meters away, meeting eyes with a stout figure, and nodding. 
	The humanoid nodded back, and after a break, grabbed a hold of the railing and started climbing. 
	-Bwreeep- -Eewp- -Ewwwp- A series of signals rang out, and a beam projected into the alien, locking it in place with a sluice, alas they slumped back onto the walkway, paralysed. 

“Take yer chance now.” Urlan encouraged. 
	Trix balled up her cheeks, and spat out over the railing while the trigger system was occupied, the info-bug shaking off the saliva and vitting into motion, after a second of flight Trix couldn't see it anymore. 
	Urlan whistled, “Got a nice mouth on ya.” 
	Was that another flirt? Or just an observation? Praise? From a pirate captain? “Thanks, you too.” Trix ended up replying. And quickly looked away from the equine's perplexed gaze. 

There were, ten holding areas in the ceiling of the ship, each hosting nearly as many officers. Four in the walls, the walls one's housing broad control pads managed by two guard officers at a time. There was one at the far end of their level, but the stairs right by them lead to another two levels above. When the field along the walkways were tactile, none of the cells closed. Her antennae twitched. Perhaps…


The prisoners were all lead out into a courtyard, a wide ground with sprawling, natural grass and flora beneath a domed ceiling looking out into the stars passing above. Tables and weights placed sporadically, some inmates were gathering for leisure activities, games, laying down on the grass, though others had less than calm intentions.

Trix stared out into the sky, into space. 
	“A beauty, ain'y it? There's freedom out there,” Urlan mumbled, crossing her arms, “And these ꚀⴥꙜ↑¤฿Å taunt us with it as we move to our judgement.” 
	Trix mumbled, “If the ship is in constant motion, how long until we… arrive?” 
	“A week at most, but we’ll be enterin' reinforced territory in mere days. Don't have the luxury of waiting.”
	Trix noticed how some of Urlan's words still didn't come through to her, perhaps some bug or filter in the translation filter, as she doubts many of the prisoners spoke the same tongue.
	“But we'll be out there again soon 'enough.” 

Trix stood beside her, and peeked over at the commotion in her corner edge of the courtyard. A four armed crustacean creature pinned another inmate to the wall with three crushing claw hands. A distant cracking… there seemed to be no one who intervened. Elsewhere, translucent quadruped expanded its maw to wrap around a Lentigucs avian, and further still an insectoid with a preposterous behind smothered a pair of inmates into the dirt. 

“Hadn't expected a prison could look so colourful, even though it doesn't seem to help morale any,” Trix pondered. 
	“Peh,” Urlan spat, “Prisons are like assholes: you can't load em up with farts forever until the pressure peaks,” she mumbled. 
	-Bbprrhrhwhpttphs-.
	-BBbwrrprpooorrrwhpsh-. 
	Simultaneously the two unleashed a gust of tailwinds; a burbling aftershock left in the wake of their buttocks as the sharp air tore through the nano mesh filters, clashing in the atmosphere behind them in spiked tendrils of fog braiding over one another, mingling the odors of boiled jerky andpeppered slug baklava, the smoking tendrils carving into each other and the surrounding air to leave gashes of smog in the filtered ship atmosphere. 
	Trix and Urlan snapped their heads to one another, each glancing behind them. 
	Urlan scoffed. “Glad to see we are on the same page.” 

“Pheee uwe, Urlan, you and your brussel sprout get a room,” a shorter humanoid scoffed as he walked past them. Followed by a foromodial who's neck antennaes twitched under their suit. “Ssssyes, annd innnvite meee to iit~,” they mused it a click of their mandibles. 
	“Pay em no mind. I know em both, solid chumps. Small oknytt one was part of me crew.” 
	“Oh, right, fair. Were all crew mates captured along with you? Also what was that about getting a roo-.” 
	“Most weren't so lucky,” Urlan intervened, clicking her lips three times. “Just a handful seemed to be captured, the rest,” a single smack of her lips, her ears slacked down somewhat. “۝Ꙛⴃⴙⴙ꘨ᵺ the lot of em, but they were my ۝Ꙛⴃⴙⴙ꘨ᵺ.” 
	“Sorry,” Trix began, then drummed her fingers together, “It is just, we already have a room?”
	Urlan caved over herself in a restrained guffaw. Taking a few moments to recover from the unexpected flank of raw denseness. “Yer alright Greene… But,” she said and clasped a palm on her shoulder, “that can wait, we've gotta spend this time wisely.” 
	Laughing was part of flirting, so, maybe that was a good sign? Trix followed along as they walked, guided by Urlan. “Doesn't seem like we are in a hurry, don't seem to be monitoring this place.” 

“Argargagrh,” A scream rang out, “Aaah-mgpgshgh-” suddenly silenced. The foromo from earlier had ambushed one of the tables, their extended jaw wrapped around a recluvian's reptilian head, mandibles jabbing into the scales and hoisting them upwards into the awaiting abyss of drool and pulsing flesh. They retracted, reeled the reptile upwards, -Ghhrogmsp- a swallow chucked the lizard's head down their throat, gullet bloating and constraining around the prison collar, an indent on the squirming bulge that snaked its way down with the alien's swallows -Glluppgs- -Uururllgps-. The flails of the reclusive tail and back limbs making the foromodial way back and forth on their balanced, three toe’d, prehensile feet. 

-Bttxxxrnnncch- A beam streamed down from on high, striking down the foromodial. Recluvian and foromo screaming in sync, both muffled, echoing one another. 
	“Mfmpghthahtg-.” 
	“Hhdwffmampgal-.” 
	The foromo froze in place, and toppled onto their back like a domino, paralysed. 
	-Gllpgtsh- -Glspthahg- Though the humid squelches of their throat undulating in peristalsis ensured the Recluvian's tail sunk past their mandibles, siphoned along their neck to join their beach ball bloated abdomen, slugging in under the stiffened blubber. 

“They ain't always observing, but at any time, they could be. You don't wanna get caught, and if you nab someone before they get ya, well then yer adding to your sentence, and one less inmate.” Urlan's grasp of Trix's shoulder tightened. As more beams stifled brawls and ensured peace in the grass laid groove. “Stick with me, we we got some business.” 


~ 5 ~


Trix stared down at the tray: it held the same pale grey hue as the uninspired table beneath it. One container of liquid, and a beige brick about the size of her palm. But it wasn't her first time having these: Dehydrated rations. Survival food in a pinch, dry exteriors, all but extinct in terms of texture, but once the powder mingled with the saliva it released a slew of flavor compounds to provide a mild delight to the senses. Trix chomped down on the brick. -Crrkktxt-. Her antennae spiked upwards, bulbs rattling like ping-pong balls. She hawked the dry chunk back on the plate, spitting and wheezing. “That's not a ration? That's just… some, dehydrated grain?” Trix sputtered perplexed, the inside of her mouth rebelling against her with a taste of gravel. 

An arm curled around her shoulders, Urlan with her ears raised leaning in against her. “Good thing I know something else you could sate your taste buds with…” she mused, and hauled Trix onto the mattress, drawing both blankets over them to cover their illicit act. 
	The Monitoring Officer looked closer at this display, though after a few goat-eyes from a neighbor using surveyors left it in his periphery. 
	“We got some time,” Urlan whispered, “You got the info-bug?” 
	Trix nodded and fished it out of her sleeve, holding open some space under the covers. The visor from the drone cast a projection of the ship in holo light. “We have the area mapped out, located several maintenance ports, but has some difficulty picking up… whatever makes up the bars of the cells. I can't figure out what sort of system it is. This is not zero-point technology, it is not electricity either, I am… unfamiliar with this tech.”
	“Because it is not just tech,” Urlan noted, pointing along the different cells. “You won't find it scanning for tech; it is alive.” 
	“What?”
	“Livin' light, trickery of the ɸ֍ↈÅꚘ۞۝… Within the ship, there is a core of living light, it projects out through veins along the ship, follows ÖA instructions, and transmutes itself to the desired properties upon arrival.” 

Trix looked back at the schematics, eyes squinting. She saw it in a new light, all the little trials through the bulwark of the ship made sense. A network, a nervous system nestled in with the mechanics of the vessel. “But, how do we stop a sentient security system?” 
	“Sapient,” Urlan corrected. “And same as you'd do with any willing party: you deal, or you drown. And, we don't need to take down everything,” Urlan whispered, gesturing, “Our cell, and one control panel. You take down those barriers, then I'll step in.” 
	Trix quivered. She was scheming with a pirate captain, eyes glimmering, she was a real space heroine now. 
	“I still, would need more tools.” 
	“I'll bargain during court hours. Once to strike the bargain, another day to receive the trade. You got two days to map out and program a path.” 

The silence strangled Trix's smile. “You said we didn't have many days.”
	“We work with what we've got. Time's running out.” 
	“Yeah, I guess it is…” 
	“I mean for this bed stunt, they'll get suspicious if we stay under ‘ere overlong, it's time to climax.” 
	Trix blinked. Then blushed. “In what, manner should I climax now again…?” 
	“Just moan out,” Urlan whispered, then paused, as she moved in a thrusting motion onto Trix, “Imagine you're ꬶ¤Ϡ▼ῳ out one of these officer jerks out ya booty. They are just firm enough to tickle your whole backside as the mounds of raw, chunky sewage billows out your handsome ass.” 
	

Trix blinked. That’s what perplexed her, but she closed her eyes, and along with Urlan's cues moaned out together. 
	“MMFmooa.” 
	“Ooomsgmmmmssh.”
	“Mmpffffh.” 
	“Mmfpgmmmgaaaah.” 
	Urlan scaled off the blankets, stretching into the cell. “Escaping this place is one thing,” she mumbled, “but bedding a Gynegean seems like a higher priority to add in the 'ol journal.” 
	“What was that?” Trix asked, frolicking out from the covers. 
	Urlan’s ears fluttered as she snickered. “And ya weren't too shabby either.” 


~ 6 ~


Time ticked in strange intervals. Chatting with Urlan made the time fly, bringing a nostalgia from Trix's childhood, but to hide away and plot out the ship, to follow the veins that connected here without getting detected weighed on Trix's mind. And two more nights, six meals of nothing but those… grain rectangles. Barley able to stomach it, and when she did, she felt it drain her spirit, her eagerness, her stamina… 

By the third day, she was exhausted, and seeing Urlan as spry and spunky as their first day, while she'd been here weeks before… The fabled admiration for those old stories materialised through this equine captain, someone who stood for freedom, someone who could toughen out any environment.

Two more break time sessions in the courtyard, and Urlan held true to her word, presenting Trix in secret, with a polished chip of Jyrr carapace, a sliver of pure midnight, reflecting not just what was put in front of it, but the stars and nebulae light years behind the subject's back… A reality warping mirage. It was small… But it had to do. 
	Trix and Urlan exchanged a nod as they headed back to their cells. It happens tonight…