(Note #1: All comments and constructive criticisms are welcome and appreciated.

Note #2: The art in this chapter was provided by Steve Rayner.

Note #3: I’d like to thank my friend Geoff for his medical knowledge that helped me with this chapter.

Note #4: And finally, thanks to volunteer Literotica editor TheNyxianLily for her help with editing.)

Palcon was not a garden spot in the galaxy. It had the hot and humid climate that you might associate with a good tropical garden, perfect for growing synthfruit. That was about the extent of its charms. The population was spread out all over the planet, an equal mix of farmers and perdium miners, mostly. As Palcon had only been terraformed for a little over a century, the settlements were few and far from one another. They also hadn’t been expanded much beyond the basic structures you’d expect to find in one. Calley had been travelling all her life and she was hard-pressed to think of a more rural, backwater world she’d ever visited. The settlement they were in, known only as “Number 19”, didn’t even boast a spaceport. The Ravenfang was simply parked outside the town in a field.

It had been a little over two sub-cycles since Calley and Sal’s conversation on Ravona. In that time, she had endeavoured to spend a little more time off the ship when the opportunity presented itself. She was still coming back to sleep in it though. She hadn’t become comfortable with the idea of picking up some local and spending the night in his bed. But she had started to explore the planets they visited a little more. When they were docked somewhere, she would tag along when Alezanna went looking for parts or either of her shipmates stocked up on provisions. The captain still eschewed her company when meeting with potential clients or buyers. She realized his edict against them seeing him in the company of a beautiful woman did indeed apply to her as well as her Bellixan friend.

Her feelings of comfort and security with her position aboard the ship had led to her loosening her purse strings a little as well. She had replaced her worn boots with a new pair after her first few sub-cycles working aboard the Ravenfang. But lately, she had started replacing other parts of her wardrobe as well. The jumpsuits she’d previously favoured had given way to a few blouses and pants, with a nice brown waist-length, synthfur-lined pleather jacket to wear in colder climates. Not that she was wearing it on Palcon. She was already sweating enough in the hot climate.

The other new addition to her wardrobe had been the simple addition of neckerchiefs. She owned a dozen small bits of brightly-coloured fabric in various colours and patterns. She was still getting the hang of accessorizing them with the right outfit though. On more than one occasion, Alezanna had stopped Calley from leaving the ship until she’d changed her neckwear to something that went better with the rest of her clothes. Calley expected her fashionable companion to have some opinions about what did and didn’t look good, but she didn’t expect her to be so draconian about it. The neckerchiefs Alezanna simply made Calley change. At other times, the beautiful Bellixan refused to let her young shipmate even buy an outfit.

It had happened this very day as the two women had gone into the settlement to pick up supplies at the general store. Calley hadn’t expected to find much in the way of nice clothes there and indeed much of the garments seemed more functional than stylish. However, she had spotted a few dresses she fancied. They seemed like they might be for the harvest dances that were common on planets like this one. Calley owned no dresses and thought about buying a red one she found rather nice. But as soon as she had shown it to Alezanna, her friend had ordered her to put it back.

Calley was still sulking about it as the two were walking back to the ship on the settlement’s main thoroughfare. They were both carrying bags of food and Calley was also encumbered with two long swaths of turquoise-coloured cloth the Bellixan had purchased for some reason. The street was full of people enjoying the cool breezes coming off the nearby lakes. It was a hot day and no one was staying inside unless they had a good reason to or a high-end indoor cooling system.

As they made their way around the people littering the wooden walkways lining the muddy road, Calley spoke up. “Y’know, if you didn’t like the dress, that’s one thing. You could have just said so instead of ordering me around.”

“Please,” Alezanna responded. “I already have Sal wearing the most Godsawful shirts he can get his hands on. The last thing I need is another fashion disaster on my hands.”

“The dress wasn’t that bad,” Calley insisted as she walked behind the taller woman. “It may not be your style but I think it would look good on me.”

“You’re half right. It’s not my style at all. If you think it’s yours, well that’s your choice, I guess. But the clothes you choose to wear, the style you choose for yourself, that’s how you’re presenting yourself to people. And I don’t think you realize how that dress would present you.”

The younger woman was confused. “What do you mean?”

”Take a look at the balcony across the road. The one in blue,” Alezanna cryptically answered as she stopped walking.

Calley did as instructed and looked at the building across the road. She saw no blue balcony, just one the same colour as the rest of the wooden façade. It was the settlement’s brothel. Calley had noticed it on the way to the store earlier. Even though it was only mid-afternoon, a trio of the local prostitutes was on the balcony bantering with some of the men on the street below. The Gynapsi wondered to herself when these women took the time to sleep. But then one of the men said something that caused the women leaning above them to laugh, making them straighten their backs. It was at that moment that Calley realized that her shipmate hadn’t been referring to the balcony as being blue. One of the prostitutes was wearing a blue dress in nearly the same style as the red one Calley had been eyeing in the store.

The Bellixan noticed her crewmate’s sharp intake of breath and knew she had spotted the right woman. “Maybe a size too small on her,” she observed. “She looks like she’s about to pop out of her top. I guess that’s on purpose, to help in her line of work. But it’s not doing her hips any favours.”

“You saw her on the way to the store,” Calley reasoned. “That’s why you didn’t want me to buy that dress.”

“No,” the taller woman said as she resumed her walk, forcing her shorter companion to match her pace. “I just recognized that style of dress. The store obviously caters to all the townsfolk. Those dresses were for the local bargirls. Spotting that one on the balcony as you were bringing up the dress was just a lucky coincidence.”

“Great. Meanwhile, I’m still the one without a decent dress.”

“You’re never going to find one in backwater places like this. But don’t worry, we’ll get to a civilized world sooner or later. When we do, we can see about improving your wardrobe.”

As she said those words, the crowd on the walkway thinned out. Ahead of them were a group of five men drinking and loudly carrying on next to a labour gravwagon parked by the walkway. They were all dressed in similar brown T-shirts and blue work pants. Calley figured they had to be part of the same work crew, presumably perdium miners. Despite the fact that it was still mid-afternoon, it was obvious even from a dozen meters away that all of them were already drunk. Neither woman needed to note that the locals were keeping their distance from the quintet to know that they were trouble. They’d both encountered such men in their pasts. Without saying a word, both of them turned to their sides and headed across the road to the opposite walkway.

Had Calley been alone, it’s possible the roustabouts might not have noticed her. But even from a distance, they were bound to spot the tall and beautiful Alezanna. Calley hoped they’d restrict themselves to some catcalls and lewd suggestions. Unfortunately, the two shipmates were not that lucky. As soon as the five men noticed the two women, they immediately ran over to them in the middle of the road.

“Hey ladies,” said the tallest one. He stood over two meters tall, with a lanky build and a scraggy face. Even tipsy, he moved fast and with confidence. There was no question he was the leader of these louts. “Never thought I’d see a Bellixan all the way out here. What brings you to our outpost?”

“Our ship,” Alezanna informed him, “which we must get back to.”

“Not so fast!” the ugly man insisted. “You two can’t have been here long or I’d’ve heard about it. So that means you ain’t seen all that Palcon has to offer. Why don’tch’a let us show you around?”

“Thank you, but we’ve seen all of your planet that we need to see. We just stopped to buy some things and now we have to leave.”

The men, having closed the distance, now stepped ahead of them and blocked their path. Calley got a good look at the rest of them. None were as tall as the talkative one, though one was noticeably wider. He was built like a weightlifter, with a large wrench hanging off his belt. Two of the others were of average builds while the last one was a few centimeters shorter than she was and scrawnier than his compatriots. He also seemed younger than the others, though their disheveled appearance made it hard to tell how old they were. They were all smiling, but there was no warmth in those smiles. It was the look of a predator who had found a helpless animal.

“Hey Vearl!” said the short one. “This one’s a Gynapsi. I thought they were all ugly with big noses, but she looks mighty fine.”

He reached out towards Calley’s face but she made a quick lean away from his hand. Her own were encumbered by a bag in the left and the cloth bolts in the right. She still managed to quickly strike his extended arm with her left elbow. It didn’t connect too hard, but it made him pull his arm back, probably more out of surprise than anything else.

Calley was very worried. The townsfolk were all keeping their distance from the unfolding scene. She was armed with her carbine, but it was strapped across her right shoulder pointing downward. Aside from the muscleman’s wrench, none of them seemed armed, but they had the advantage of numbers. Also, they were too close. If Calley dropped what she was carrying to reach for her gun, they’d be on her before she could raise it.

“A Bellixan and a Gynapsi travellin’ together,” said Vearl while still addressing Alezanna. “Ain’t you both a rare sight. If you’re in such a hurry to leave, why don’t’cha let us drive ya to your ship? Your friend can share the back with my guys and you can ride in the cab with me. It’s got a good cooling system.”

“No thank you,” she answered coldly. “We’re not going far away and we can make it fine on our own.”

She tried stepping around him but Vearl, the muscular one and one of the other men shifted their positions to block her again. This left the scrawny one and the other average-built one blocking Calley’s own advance.

“But you’ll get dirty walking down there in the mud.”

“Not as dirty as we’ll get with you lot.”

The smile started to fade from the ugly man’s face. “Now you’re getting mean, darlin’. Me and my boys just came into town to blow off some steam and have a little fun. But ya had to go and be insultin’. Now you’re gonna get in that wagon with us and let us do our business with ya. If you relax, you might even enjoy it. When we’re done, we’ll let ‘cha go and that’ll be that.”

The tone in his voice left no doubt that he wasn’t making an offer but an outline of what he intended to see happen. The five men tensed up waiting for the women to make a move. “Try it and see what happens,” Alezanna said.

“I intend to,” Vearl said in a slightly amused tone.

All at once, everyone was in motion. Calley dropped what she was carrying. The bag and the loose cloth fell onto the muddy street. She reached for her carbine but the bigger man in front of her quickly was at her side and holding down her right arm. The scrawny one, meanwhile, was on her left side immobilizing her other arm. She struggled to free herself but the men, especially the older one, had good grips on her. The scrawny one reached his left hand to her chest and started trying to unbutton her blouse. Calley’s struggles made it difficult.

“Prophet’s breath Brion!” said the man on her right. “Just tear it already!”

Calley wasn’t making a sound beyond her grunts of effort as she tried to escape the men’s grasp. She had been turned away from Alezanna who was silently struggling with her own attackers. Then Calley heard a man scream from behind her and something wet hit the back of her head. The red liquid also hit the side of the attacker on her right’s face, causing him to slightly recoil back from her. Instinctively, she thrust her hip out to her side. This caused the barrel of her gun to swing away from her. With the man holding her arm’s grip loose, she was able to reach the gun’s trigger and squeeze it.

She wasn’t really expecting to hit anything but the ground. She hoped the hot flash and the noisy discharge would startle the men long enough for Alezanna and her to take advantage. But the shot incinerated the top left corner of her attacker’s left foot. He let out a painful howl and fell into the mud. The scrawny one, Brion, stepped back in fear as Calley got a firm hold of her carbine. He quickly turned his back to her and took off running towards the gravwagon. In an instant, he was joined by the average-built roustabout who’d been facing Alezanna. As neither seemed to be a threat at the moment, Calley turned to where her companion had been.

She saw that Vearl was writhing on the ground, his hands covering his bleeding face. He was the one whose scream had given her the distraction she’d needed. The muscular man lay next to him, though he wasn’t screaming. His hands were on his right leg, trying to stop the torrent of blood pouring from his wound. Calley assumed that his femoral artery must have been cut. With the way he was bleeding out, she knew he’d be dead soon. Standing over both men was Alezanna with her daggers in her hands. Her clothes were a testament that she’d been manhandled but it was clear what had happened once she’d reached her hidden weapons.

It had all happened so quickly that Calley was still hyped up on adrenaline as she heard the gravwagon’s engine fire up. Calley raised her weapon to fire at the cab but hesitated, unsure if she should shoot at the fleeing men. The vehicle floated up a about a meter and shot forward down the road away from the scene of the quick fight. Calley watched it pick up speed and travel about a hundred meters away. Suddenly the gravwagon did a fishhook turn, spinning around to face her. It started accelerating towards her as, over the din of the approaching vehicle and the screams of the wounded men, she heard Alezanna’s calm voice. “Shoot the centre grill.” it said.

Calley saw the grill her friend was referring to, quickly took aim and fired off a shot. The recoil raised the barrel of her weapon so she immediately lowered it back into position. She intended to fire a second shot at the gravwagon but realized it was unnecessary. Whatever the Bellixan wanted her to hit had knocked out the vehicle’s motor. The gravwagon had fallen into the mud and its forward momentum was quickly halted some thirty meters from Calley.

An eerie calm descended on the scene. The injured men had gone from screaming in pain to whimpering. The two in the gravwagon’s cab were staring dumfounded at Calley. She kept her carbine trained on them both, alternating between each one every few seconds. On the periphery of her vision, she could see the local inhabitants looking on in silence. She paid them no heed.

She saw that Brion, on the passenger side of the gravwagon’s cab, was saying something as he kept his eyes trained on Calley while shaking his head. Whatever he was telling the other man not to do, it didn’t seem to have any effect. The driver’s features hardened in resolve. Calley whispered, “Don’t. Whatever it is, don’t do it. Don’t make me do this.”

Had the driver been able to hear her, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. He reached behind his seat and grabbed something. Calley couldn’t tell what it was as he pulled it out. She saw a glint of metal. She pulled the trigger of her carbine.

In an instant, the window of the gravwagon’s cab was warped around the hole where the blaster bolt had hit it. Calley couldn’t see inside anymore. She saw Brion throw himself out of the cab’s side door, a look of horror on his face. He lay on the muddy ground and began weeping. Calley heard him, but it seemed like the sound was coming from a greater distance away than he actually was.

Calley couldn’t really hear anything. All she could hear was the sound of the shot she’d just fired. She found herself living that moment again every time she took a breath. She was afraid to look elsewhere or move. If she did, the driver might be alive again and hurt her somehow.

There were other sounds around her now. She couldn’t really tell what they were. Voices maybe, but again, they seemed far away. And who cared what these people thought anyway? They would have stood by and let these men ravage her without so much as a peep. She’d defended herself. It was the right thing to do. Wasn’t it?

Then, again, Alezanna’s voice was in her ears. “Calley, please drop the gun and step away from it. Then I’m going to need you to raise your hands and turn around please.”

That seemed like a reasonable request, so Calley did as she was asked. As she turned around, she saw that the Bellixan also had her hands up. There were some other people approaching her friend. They were wearing lanyards with some insignia attached to it. The local law officers, Calley realized. And two of them were heading towards her. She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate her attention on them. The moment she shot the driver seemed to recede, to finally take its place in her mind as something that had happened, not something that was still happening.

The two law officers who approached her had their pistols drawn. One was a man and the other a woman. They seemed the same age and had a familial resemblance. Calley wondered why she’d noticed that and realized she was having trouble focusing on what was important. She heard the male officer say something to her but missed its meaning.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” she asked him.

“I asked you if you have any weapons on you,” he said.

“No sir,” she answered. “Just the blaster carbine there in the mud.” She was glad she’d left her tool belt back on the ship as some of the tools were pointy enough to be called weapons.

“All right miss. Now my colleague here is just gonna do a quick check to make sure. Please don’t make any sudden moves.”

“Okay,” Calley said as she gave a quick nod of her head. The female officer stepped forward and began patting her down. Calley flinched at the first touch, but steadied her nerves and allowed the officer to finish. “What’s your name, honey?” the officer asked as she made sure the spacer was now unarmed.

“Calley Vanmussen.”

“All right Calley, you’re clean,” the lady officer announced, more for her partner’s benefit than Calley’s. “Now if I tell you it’s okay to put your hands down, you’re not gonna do anything stupid, are you?”

“No officer,” Calley assured her. They weren’t that far apart in age from her, but the officers seemed utterly unfazed by the wounded men they were among. They were speaking to her in steady tones that helped keep her calm as the enormity of what she’d just done started to sink in.

“Okay then, you can put ‘em down,” the female officer said as she and her partner both holstered their pistols. She turned to the male officer and said, “I’ve got this. Why don’t you go pick up our young fuck-up over there.”

“Again,” the male officer added as he headed off towards the young Brion who was still crying in the mud.

“Now Calley,” the female officer began, “are you hurt in any way? Do you need a doctor?”

“No ma’am. I don’t think so.”

“Okay then, I’m gonna need you to come to the security office with me.”

Calley hesitated. She wanted to do what the officer asked, but she didn’t want to be separated from Alezanna. “What about my friend?” she asked.

“She’ll be there too. See, she’s looking over at us to make sure you’re coming along.”

Calley shifted her attention to where her companion was and saw that the security officer was speaking truly. She also saw that the muscular man had stopped moving entirely. This made her wonder how much trouble the two spacers were in.

“Are we under arrest?” Calley asked the officer as the two followed Alezanna and another officer to the security building.

“Not right now,” her escort answered. “We’re gonna let you explain what happened and see what the witnesses say. We’ll see what happens after that.”

Calley and Alezanna were led into the security building. There was a reception area separated from the desks in the work area by a sturdy wooden barrier about a meter high. Calley spotted a rack of blaster rifles along the back wall. After Alezanna surrendered her toolbelt, the two spacers were led behind the open barrier to the stairs leading up to the next floor.  As she followed her escort, Calley wondered what the officers saved the rifles for. After all, she’d shot a man dead and wounded another, with Alezanna doing the same with her daggers. They were both murderers, so who were the locals saving the heavy artillery for?

Upstairs were some more desks, one of which Calley was led to by the officer escorting her. A name plate on the desk read “Alys Moreau”. The young medtech saw Alezanna sit in front of another officer’s desk on the other side of the floor. Calley wondered where the holding cells were and why she wasn’t in one.

Moreau asked her to explain what had happened. Calley took a deep breath and explained about the shopping trip and how they’d tried to avoid the five men. She recounted the confrontation to the best of her ability while the officer quickly typed notes into her computer. Calley made sure it was clear she didn’t want to shoot the gravwagon’s driver. She’d thought he was reaching for a weapon.

“He was,” Moreau confirmed. “He had a hunting rifle in his hand when you shot him. Dunno how he expected to aim that thing in a small space like that. But he was definitely armed.”

Calley nodded as she realized that had she not shot the man, he might have tried to kill her. This brought back the memory of the man. How he looked when he reached back for the rifle. She wondered if he knew he was about to die. She had her gun trained on him. Did he think she was likely to miss? Did he expect her to freeze up before she could pull the trigger? No matter how many times she went over it, she couldn’t figure out what the man was thinking. Had he made up his mind to kill her or die trying? Was he that full of hatred or was he so insane that he hadn’t considered the consequences of what he was doing?

The thought of consequences brought her back to her immediate surroundings. She wondered if she was going to go to jail or if they would simply execute her here. She didn’t know what the laws on capital crimes were around here, but she had killed a man and maimed another. There was no avoiding it, she knew she was in deep, deep trouble. Part of her hoped that she would be killed. It would be preferable to jail. She didn’t think she could survive incarceration in a sector like this. Backwater worlds like this one tended to send convicts to harsh worlds to fend for themselves. If Alezanna was with her, she might survive, though she would not think it would be a pleasant life. If they were separated, she knew she would have no chance.

She looked over at her companion, sitting at the other desk, talking to another officer and wondered if this would be the last time she’d see her. Alezanna seemed very composed and calm, unlike Calley who was starting to shake with her nervousness. She wondered if she would even get to say goodbye to the captain. One thing was for sure. Her life as she knew it was over. Whether literally or figuratively, things would never be the same.

Calley took a deep breath to calm herself and then exhaled deeply. Officer Moreau had stopped asking her questions and was studying the computer readout intently. Calley heard beeps which she recognized as incoming messages.

“The doc says Luey’s going to be okay,” Moreau told Calley. “That’s the guy you shot in the foot. He’s gonna need a prosthetic but he should be walking again eventually. The guy your friend slashed in the face is Vearl…”

“I know,” the young spacer interrupted her. “We caught his name, before he attacked us.”

“Always polite for a shithead, that one. Well, his looks aren’t gonna be improved by your friend’s cut but he was pretty ugly to begin with, so it’s no great loss.”

Calley’s nervousness got the better of her. “Are we going to go to jail?” she asked the officer. “Or will we be hung?”

Moreau seemed taken aback for a moment by Calley’s question. Then she spoke to the frazzled medtech in a calm tone again. “Relax Calley, please. No one’s getting hung today. Those idiots were stupid enough to attack you in front of half the town. I’ve got your statement, your friend’s and Brion’s here.” She pointed to her computer screen. “He’s the young one who you scared shitless. They all match up. Also, the other witnesses describe the scene pretty much the same way you do. The only people who have anything different to say are Vearl and Luey. Their stories are utter crap and don’t match up to each other’s, let alone anybody else’s. Those guys have a shitty reputation around here anyway so nobody’s interested in what they have to say.”

The officer put her hand on Calley’s to ease the medtech’s stress. She then continued on. “It looks like a clear-cut case of self-defence here. It was five against two, with Gandey twice the size of your friend, and with a weapon in his hands to boot. So no one can say it wasn’t a fair fight. Maybe unfair for you ladies, but that doesn’t seen to have slowed either one of you down much. As for Peetyr, the guy in the cab, he attacked her too, tried to run everyone over and then reached for a gun when you had the drop on him. He had every chance to stop coming after you. But sometimes, a man’s just asking to be shot and all you can do is oblige him.”

Calley was dumbfounded as she listened to the officer sum up what had happened. It sounded right, fair even. But she had killed a man. She couldn’t believe there would be no consequences to what she’d done.

“So what’ll happen to me now?” she asked Moreau.

“We’ve sent our report to the magistrate in the capitol. She’ll get back to us soon with her decision as to whether or not you’ll be facing charges. Personally, I really doubt you will, but I can’t tell you for sure until I know for sure. Still, If I were you, I’d start thinking about if you wanna press charges against the three men who attacked you.”

“Me?” Calley asked. “I suppose I could press assault charges, couldn’t I?”

“From what you’ve told me, and based on the stains on your blouse, I’d say sexual assault. But regular assault too. Brion was in the gravwagon when Peetyr tried to run you down, so you might wanna lay a charge of accessory to attempted murder on him.”

The mention of the young roustabout made Calley remember how utterly terrified he’d looked when he’d jumped out of the gravwagon’s cab after her fatal shot.

She asked Moreau, “You have his statement, right?”

“Right here,” the officer confirmed with a wave to her computer screen.

“And he told the truth, right?”

“His statement matches yours and your friend’s, yes. Even the parts that don’t make him look too good.”

“After I disabled the gravwagon, he was shaking his head and saying something. He was telling the driver not to go for the gun, wasn’t he?”

The lawwoman called up the file on her computer and read through it. “Yes, he says he didn’t want Peetyr to go for the rifle, but he did anyway. He also says he didn’t know Peetyr was gonna try to run you down, but there’s no way to know for sure about that.”

“But he’s told the truth about everything else. I guess I’d be inclined to believe that. You seem to know him. Is he a liar?”

Moreau paused for a moment and answered, “No. I’ve known that kid all his life. He’s a cousin. He has a real knack for finding the wrong crowd to hook up with. But whenever he gets into trouble, he’s always smart enough to fess up immediately before he makes things worse. It’s his one redeeming quality.”

The young medtech nodded as she took in the officer’s appraisal. “And if he was convicted of assaulting me, what would happen to him? Would he be sent to a penal planet?”

“Probably not. He’s still a minor under the law, so he’d be tried separately from Vearl and Luey. As for his sentencing, it’s more likely he’d be sent to a juvenile corrections compound off-planet. Not as bad as the local penal colony, but still no picnic.”

Calley knew about such compounds, having occasionally been threatened with being sent to one by cruel employers. They indeed had a unsavoury reputation. As she contemplated whether or not to help send Brion to one, she glanced over at where Alezanna was sitting. She saw her shipmate looking over at her. She had her right arm and index finger extended to the officer talking to her, as if asking her to wait a moment. Suddenly, Calley was certain that Alezanna had just been asked whether or not she wanted to press charges against their three surviving attackers. And she was looking to her younger companion to make the decision.

“No charges, for any of them,” she said to Moreau, shaking her head while still looking at Alezanna. The Bellixan turned back to the officer interviewing her and likewise shook her head.

“All right then,” Alys Moreau said. “That saves me some work. Now we just wait for the magistrate’s decision.”

Despite the officer’s earlier assurances, Calley spent the next ten minutes on edge. Moreau offered her some coffee which utterly failed to steady the Gynapsi’s nerves. She tried some chit-chat with the lawwoman and found out the other officer who’d approached her after the shooting was her brother Rogyr. Calley was desperate to keep talking to Alys as whenever things got quiet, unbidden images of Peetyr grabbing the rifle would re-enter her mind.

A chime from the computer caught Moreau’s attention. She looked the screen over and told Calley, “The magistrate says we cut you loose. No charges to be filed. You’re free to go. You can pick up your gun downstairs.”

Calley nodded her understanding but hesitated. She wasn’t sure she even wanted the weapon anymore. The idea of pulling that trigger again after all that had happened made her very uncomfortable.

Calley rose to her feet and saw Alezanna approaching. The taller woman took her friend’s hand in hers as they walked to the stairs leading to the main floor. Alys Moreau and the officer who’d questioned Alezanna escorted them down. Calley heard a commotion as the quartet descended. She was relieved to see Captain Sal there in the reception area arguing with another man. The agitated man was dressed in the same brown T-shirt and blue work pants combo her attackers had worn. Rogyr Moreau was behind the wooden barrier trying to calm things down. Calley also noticed Brion at one of the corner desks doing his best not to be noticed. When he saw her, he quickly looked away.

“So who’s gonna pay for my Godsdamn wagon?” the angry man demanded to know, his question aimed somewhere between the captain and Rogyr.

“Like I said before,” Rogyr Moreau explained to him, “the magistrate ruled these women acted in self-defence. It was your employee who tried to run them down. You’ll have to take it up with your workforce. Or their families, maybe.”

This did little to calm the man down so he continue to complain as Calley and Alezanna retrieved their weapons and the latter’s toolbelt from another officer. He also handed the two a couple of clean bags of provisions and two bolts of turquoise-coloured cloth.

“That’s not ours,” Calley informed him. “Our stuff fell in the mud.”

The officer leaned in to explain without being overheard by the loud man. “The store owners replaced everything free of charge. A lot of people around here are happy those assholes you tangled with got what was coming to ‘em.”

“Oh Gods,” Alezanna said as she looked in the bags. “They even threw in the red dress. This day keeps getting worse. Well, to the seven Hells with it. I can maybe alter it into something wearable.”

Calley felt nothing as she took her carbine and slung it across her shoulder. She reached to grab a bag and the cloth but Sal had already grabbed the items from the other side of the barrier. She hadn’t seen Alezanna shoot her lover a look of concern about their shipmate, but the veteran spacer had understood without a word being said.

“So you’re just gonna let those bitches walk outta here?” the wagon owner loudly asked the officers.

Sal stiffened up and might have attacked the man had his hands been free. But before anything could happen, Alezanna kicked the barrier door open with her heavy boot. It swung outward, it’s edge burying itself in the man’s crotch. He went down to his knees with his left hand holding his privates while his right was on the floor to help steady himself. Alezanna made sure to step on his hand as she made her way to the building’s exit. Calley didn’t care enough to do the same and simply walked around him.

“She assaulted me!” the man said as he struggled to catch his breath. “You all saw it!”

“Sorry MacAuffle,” said Rogyr, “I was looking at Captain Collondo. Did anybody see what happened?”

The other officers said they were looking at the wall, the clock, the window or each other as the Ravenfang crew left. MacAuffle, it seemed, was going to have trouble pressing any charges in the absence of witnesses.

Once they were a distance away from the security building, Sal asked the women if they were  all right.

“We’re fine,” Alezanna assured him while she prompted him to keep walking. He’d stopped uncomfortably close to the scene of the fight. “But I’ll be happy to leave this planet behind, I can tell you that.”

“Anything you need to fix before we take off?” he asked her.

“Nothing that can’t wait,” she assured him.

They quickly made their way past the spot where the women had first spotted the roustabouts. Calley stayed silent as she noticed the gravwagon and the bodies were already gone. At first glance, it seemed there was nothing to indicate that the fight had ever taken place. But the crowd on the streets was giving the crew a wide berth. Whether out of respect or fear, she didn’t know or care. But it allowed the trio to quickly make it back to the ship. It took little time for the Ravenfang to lift off and leave Palcon behind forever.

NEXT CHAPTER: Calley breaks down.