Unfrozen Horny Nympho Alien

Chapter 1 On the planet Diadem, capital of the Empire of Jewels The Hall of Adamant. Justiciar’s Council. Empire Year 5719 (Modern Era) “Scout Captain Tezla Byron. Do you understand the charges against you?” Tezla shifted her feet. The faint scuff of her boot-soles on the marble floor woke echoes from the perfect acoustics of the high hall of Justice. She smiled lazily. “Let’s hear them all again, my lord. Just to make sure you haven’t forgotten any.” The presiding judge scowled at her insolence. But since Tezla suspected her sentence had been decided days ago, there was no harm in antagonizing the dried-up old prune, or his six equally bloodless colleagues. Might as well draw things out, she thought. Hell. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and the pathetic old fossil will drop dead before he can read my sentence. At least then I’ll have a few more weeks of rest at home before they find someone else to pronounce my sentence. “Very well. The charges, against Scout Captain Tezla Byron, of Clan Del’Monte, are as follows: “Landing on a proscribed planet. For the record, the planet being Chara Epsilon, called by its inhabitants Home, an underdeveloped class-five planet with no spacefaring capability and only the most rudimentary understanding of physics, chemistry, biology, and higher mathematics. “Making contact with the sentient inhabitants of a proscribed planet.” “They are not ‘sentient inhabitants,’ my lord,” Tezla retorted, despite her better judgement. “They are as human as you and I. It is not their fault our forebears deserted them.” The wrinkled old man ignored her outburst, shuffled papers, and swallowed in distaste. “Engaging in s****l congress with the inhabitants of a proscribed planet in the now-outlawed mammalian fashion.” At that, Tezla laughed outright, heedless of the look of outrage that passed over Judge Hej’s face. “And lastly,” Hej said, his throat working as if he were fighting back an urge to vomit. “Returning to Diadem with your contraceptive implant deactivated, in violation of the Progeny Act of 5703. And for attempting to conceive a child without receiving permission from the Reproduction Council. “None of these charges have been disputed by you, the defendant. “Tezla Byron.” She did not miss that the judge did not name her clan, nor the rank to which she was entitled. Tezla was not surprised. She had always been a misfit, a rebel, if never quite so blatant. And this time, it seemed, the scouts were going to let her swing for her actions. “Have you anything to say in your defense?” She raised her eyebrows in stark disbelief. “Would you actually listen to anything I have to say?” “A defendant will always be heard,” Judge Hej intoned piously. “It is the Way. Though we believe you to be mistaken, there is always the possibility you have words of wisdom to impart to us.” Tezla tilted her head, accepting his words without believing them. “Then I say this,” she said, passion whetting her words like a knife. “You condemn the scouts as different, as other. As a necessary evil, tolerable only as long as they stay within the boundaries you have set. We venture out, into the great unknown. Into the vast dark that lies between the stars. “Have you seen it, Judge Hej?” Her eyes swept the seven that sat in judgment of her. None met her gaze. “Have any of you? We go out and we seek those who were lost. Those who our ancestors deserted when war came upon us and we were forced to retreat to the home worlds to survive. After decades of war that pushed us to the brink, we emerged victorious against the Black Hegemony, it is true. And we have had more than five millennia of peace and prosperity since. But how many of our brothers, our sisters, our cousins in the Empire of Jewels were left to fend for themselves while we cowered in the core systems? They lost so much. Not just in technology and wealth and safety. But in their very identity. They have no knowledge of who and what they truly are. And we choose to keep them in darkness and ignorance, out of our own sense of superiority, until they meet an arbitrary technological goal we have set. “I have seen it,” she declared, her voice rising with sudden passion and wrath. “I have seen the scorched planets the Hegemony left behind. Seen the ruined cities, the blackened fields, the hopeless barricades where the last survivors fought, even though they knew their efforts were in vain. I have seen what was left,” she whispered in bleak silence. “Nothing. Those that surrendered had their planets sterilized. Those that fought…” She swallowed. “They faced worse. s*****y and torture and starvation. And the Pits.” “Is it any wonder that after seeing that, any functioning consciousness should choose to celebrate life?” She laughed suddenly. “Oh, you sick, twisted lot. You condemn me as a throwback, when it is you who are truly deviant. Humankind was not meant to sit and create the new generations through bloodless, passionless science,” she sneered. “You cold, considerate men and women. You sit here and think you are the pinnacle of civilization. You shrink from your own desires, harvesting your seed and counting your chromosomes dearer than the lives of your own children, on those rare occasions when you can even be bothered to take the time to sire any progeny. But you have more in common with the Hegemony than other, truer humans who I have met, who live and love and glory in their lives, short and fleeting though they might be.” “Silence!” Judge Hej leapt to his feet, his face white with fury. “You will insult us no more, Captain!” “Insult you? Oh, dear gods in their heaven, I wasn’t insulting you,” Tezla smirked. “Far be it for me, a mere captain, to insult you. I was merely describing you. If you have your way, you will stare at your bellies, contemplating the glories of your own navel, until the Hegemony comes back and utterly destroys your glorious Empire. And when that happens, the last thought that crosses your mind will be, ‘where were our warriors?’ “But in your desire to eliminate every last scrap of s****l desire from our genetic heritage, you will have bred them out of existence. And you will die, choking on your own blood, looking into the blank mouth of a Hegemonic rifle.” “Enough.” Hej had recovered his composure. His glance took in his fellow counselors. They nodded like puppets. “Your own words condemn you. You do not deny your actions, which are prohibited both by the laws of the Jewel Empire and by the code of the Corps of Scouts. “You will go forth from this place. In three days, you shall present yourself at the Hall of Cleansing. There you shall be cured of those urges the Council deems,” a swallow, “unnatural. If you do not, you will be declared outcast and anathema, and your clan will be forced to expel you, on pain of expulsion from the homeworld itself.” Tezla’s belly clenched in sudden fear. Cleansing. It was the next thing to a death sentence, at least for one such as her. She would emerge from that hall cheerful and smiling. She would be happy. But then, she wouldn’t have any choice in the matter. Not with her personality twisted into the shape the Cleansers deemed “appropriate.” She allowed her posture to sag in surrender. But her mind was racing. “I accept the Council’s decision,” she said woodenly. Tears leaked from her eyes, tracing a slow path down her cheeks. “Do I have permission to withdraw?” Hej smiled, gloating over her humiliation. And why not? His clan and hers had been rivals for generations. “Of course,” he said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. He threw his words at her retreating back as she turned away. “Do not fail, Tezla,” he continued, not even giving her the courtesy her rank demanded. “You will be cleansed. Or you will be banished.” ~Sam, can you hear me?~ she subvocalized as she walked down the bare, sterile hall, using the neural link which had been implanted in her brain when she graduated from Scout Academy. ~Of course, Captain,~ her ship’s computer immediately replied. ~How f****d are we?~ It might have been a mistake, Tezla thought, to allow her ship to take on so much of her own personality. But if she had not, she doubted Sam would do what she asked of her now. ~Pretty f****d, and not in a good way, either. If I don’t allow the Cleansers to mind-r**e me back into an obedient little scout, they’re going to send me into exile and force Mother and the rest of the clan to cast me out.~ ~And do we have anything resembling a plan?~ ~Yes.~ She pushed open the doors of the Hall of Justice, breathing deep of balmy summer air. Her footsteps quickened, her bootheels rapping out a staccato beat as she descended the marble steps. ~Prepare for immediate lift. I am not going to allow them to break me down and remake me into a brainless, mindless zombie, smiling and nodding and with no more passion for life than your average toadstool.~ There was a long pause, especially by Sam’s standards. ~Captain. Are you going renegade?~ ~Of course not,~ Tezla snapped, hailing an idling robocab. ~Mother and my uncles discussed this for days. We knew it would probably come to this. Mother wasn’t happy that I hadn’t managed to be more…discreet…about my activities on the Chara Epsilon mission. But even she feels the current political bent of the ruling class has gone beyond merely conservative and has become frighteningly reactionary. The Council’s eyes will fall on the clan as a whole, soon enough. The only answer is to withdraw ourselves from Diadem altogether and take up residence on one of the outworlds. They are making preparations for a discreet exodus, once I have removed myself from the council’s notice. Six months from now, a year at the most, and Clan Del’Monte will no longer reside on Diadem. It will be left to the accountants and the lawyers to serve our interests here.~ ~And you?~ She keyed the spaceport into the robocab’s destination pad. ~Me? I am kicking the dirt of this smug, smirking, self-important mudball off my heels and heading for the outer reaches. Some place where I won’t disturb right-thinking folk with my revolutionary ideas. You know. The ones that say that children can be gotten in some other way than through a gene scan and a uterine replicator. Where love, desire, and passion and the warmth of a nurturing mother are more important than a pair of tweezers and a microscope.~ ~Unfamiliar as I am with the intricacies of human breeding, I am reasonably sure that is not how reproduction on Diadem actually works.~ ~You shut up. What kind of shape are we in? Are we stocked and provisioned? What is our fuel status?~ Sam’s voice took on a slightly miffed tone, even if it was only in her mind. ~In obedience to standing orders, I of course took care to reprovision as soon as we landed. The holds are full, as are the fuel-coils. As long as my power cells maintain a charge, you need not fear death through starvation, or thirst, or cold. Though the diet may become a bit bland if our voyage lasts more than a galactic decade.~ Tezla grinned as the gates of the port came into view. ~I think we can avoid that.~ The robocab stopped with a hiss, its airfans sighing to a halt as it lowered itself to the ceracrete, blasted white by generations of launches and landings. Tezla hopped out, her hands touching a series of pockets in a habit so ingrained it was instinctive. Pilot license. Ship key. Hyperspace passport. Credit chit. Pellet gun. Emergency credit chit. Pilot jacket. She shrugged, feeling the heavy, reassuring weight of black spaceleather settle around her shoulders. “Captain Byron!” A scurrying figure approached from her left, his hands flapping. “You must leave. By the order of the council, you are forbidden the port and its environs.” Tezla didn’t even pause. “By what right do you deny a pilot access to her ship?” she snarled, her steps quickening. “It is sealed!” The wispy young man was forced into a near-scamper to keep pace with her. He was not, Tezla noted, wearing the familiar tower-and-beacon of the portmaster’s guild on his tunic. “Judge Hej himself ordered it!” Tezla rounded the corner of a huge, bulky freighter and stopped dead, spinning to face the functionary. “Judge Hej,” she snapped, “is not the portmaster. Nor is he my commanding officer. Nor is he the head of my clan. He has no legal authority to seal my ship, nor restrict my access to it. Furthermore, neither do you. I have seen nothing to make me think you are anything more than one of his whining, cringing little toadies. Get out of my way. And if you try to stop me,” she continued, bunching her fingers in his tunic, “I will make your eyes roll around in your pointy little head.” She raised her free hand over her shoulder, fist clenched in silent threat. “Do you understand me?” She released her grip, and the man backpedaled frantically, scrambling backwards for several steps before he collapsed on the ceracrete. “You,” he squeaked, pointing an accusing finger at Tezla. “You assaulted me!” He pulled a communicator from his trousers. “You stay there! Don’t move! I’m calling the peacekeepers!” “Better tell them to hurry,” she said, turning her back and continuing on to her ship. Temptation’s Reward was a class-A jumpship, with only two small holds, one starboard and one port. It was a scout ship, not a trader or freighter or transport. In a pinch, it could accommodate a crew of six, but Tezla had run it by herself for the last four years. Her best work for the scouts had always been as a solo, not as part of a team. Even with those of her own kind, who were used to alien ways, she had found herself a woman apart. “Sam, power up,” she snapped as the airlock door slid closed behind her. “That bastard Tej is doing everything he can to clip my wings and ground me.” “Yes,” Sam said, her cool voice amused as it exited from hidden speakers. “An all-planet bulletin went out less than ten minutes ago. It requests that the local constabulary and other relevant agencies locate you and keep you from leaving the planet. Apparently your little show of contrition was not as convincing as you might have wished. You are to be held as a corrupting influence and turned over immediately to the cleansers.” “Sneaky bastard,” Tezla said, drawn to reluctant admiration of the man’s tactics. “He let me think he was letting me go. If I had gone home I would probably be trapped.” “Oh, indeed. The Del’Monte clanhouse is currently surrounded by a very impressive show of force. Your mother is quite incensed.” “My family?” “Unharmed, for the present. I predict that once you are gone the situation will resolve itself. Not even Hej will dare openly attack a clan of your size and strength. If your mother feels sufficiently threatened, she might be forced into overt defiance. And if she is able to bring in enough allies, it could result in civil war.” Sam did not seem unduly disturbed by the prospect. “Which means I have to get off-planet as quickly as I can.” She slid into the pilot’s seat and brought up the screens. “Begin countdown for emergency launch.” “Temptation’s Reward!” The words blared from the communicator, making her jump. “Power down your ship! By order of the Justiciar’s Council, you are denied permission to launch!” “Negative, tower,” she responded smoothly, her fingers dancing over toggles and switches. “I am lifting. Either make a hole for me, or get ready for a rain of radioactive debris.” With a shrill, subaural scream that made her teeth ache, the magnetics engaged. “Launch now, and we will suspend your license and confiscate your ship!” “You’ll have to catch me, first.” She laughed, slapping a button, which sent two prepared messages flying. One was her resignation letter from the scouts. The second was a farewell to her mother and her clan. “You are not acting with the permission of the scouts, Byron! This is an act of blatant piracy!” Well, if I’m going to go rogue, I might as well do it in style. “Acknowledged, tower. Although I will note that the scouts have not seen fit to revoke my authorization to fly the Reward. That means it’s still mine to fly where I wish.” Though that probably won’t last long. “Flight plan loaded, locked, and filed. Is there a window for me, or do I punch a hole in some nice shiny cruise ship?” Swearing emerged from the speakers. “You have a window, Byron. Gods help you when they catch you, because no one here will.” And with those words as her epitaph, Tezla Byron lifted from Diadem and began her career of inerstellar piracy. To be honest, it didn’t last very long.