The bar on Boca Alacran was empty, all the patrons had been hastily kicked out in order to ensure the meeting would go as smoothly as possible. Broken tables were replaced, shattered glasses had been swept up, and every ounce of spilled liquor was painstakingly mopped. Self-proclaimed Pirate Queen Maya Gaige sat in the center of the room, carefully balancing her chair as she rested her feet atop the wooden table. Floorboards creaked behind her as her newly appointed first-mate, Allison Tavik, paced incessantly.

        “There are a thousand things that can go wrong you know, and I’m not exaggerating,” Tavik remarked.

        Maya took another sip from her glass. The liquid burned her throat, her lips curled in satisfaction. Sweat crawled down the back of her neck and forehead from the dry Alacranian heat. It didn’t really bother her much, she’d been born on a world much hotter than this, with significantly less amenities to make it tolerable. If anything she hoped it would hinder her client’s decision making. A tiny, squeaking alarm chirped from behind her signaling that it was time. She quickly ran through the scenario again, any moment now her client would walk through that door. They’d offer her a deal in exchange for the valuables she’d retrieved from the ship wreck that she’d investigated weeks ago. She’d counter their offer, they’d counter back, she’d graciously accept, and everyone would leave happy.

        As if on cue the old wooden door to the bar swung open. A single man stepped through the doorway with dark, sun kissed skin, an expensive suit and a well-groomed beard. His hands remain clasped behind his back as he slowly made his way across the room. Maya felt a touch of anxiety, nothing another sip of her drink couldn’t cure of course, but she’d expected a couple muscled goons, maybe even some poor underling sent to make a deal for someone with bigger clout. Yet the man that walked towards her emanated power, and he knew it. His gaze never settled on her however, it continued to scan the room until he sidled up to the chair on the opposite side of the table.

        Maya remained seated with her heels resting firmly on the tabletop. An amused smirk only served to strengthen the man’s intimidation factor. She knew she’d have to turn the tables quickly.

        “Comfortable?” he inquired.

         Maya shrugged.

        “So, you’re the infamous Queen of Boca Alacran,” he commented. “Who’s the muscle?”
        “My new first mate, the last one had issues with how I conducted business. So I fired him,” she answered. She continued to examine her client, who’d still refused to be seated.

        “I see,” he replied, sizing up Tavik. “So, what do you have for me?”

        Floorboards creaked once more as Tavik began to approach him. Maya raised her hand to halt her first mate’s progress. “Who are you? You dress like a Council agent, yet you haven’t threatened to arrest me. Are you from one of the “royal” families?”

        He shook his head, an amused chuckled emanated from behind his somewhat charming smile. “No, though my family certainly has money if that’s what you’re worried about.”

        Maya held her hand out expectantly to Tavik. The slim black device is hastily placed in the pirate’s hand. “Unless you want me to call you….” Her sentence trailed off as she searched for his name on her list of clients. “The First Son, I’d suggest you give me something a little more substantial.”
        The smile returned to his face. “You can call me Dalton if it so pleases your highness,” he replied, placing a particularly heavy dose of sarcasm on her honorary title.

        A sneer began to form on the pirate queen’s face, only to be hastily exchanged in favor of a relaxed smirk. Dalton, if that was even his real name, stood mildly amused at the other end of the table. There wasn’t even the slightest hint that the heat was getting to him. For a moment they simply stared at each other, sizing one another up.

        Then the front door opens again, both parties turned their gazes towards it. A bedraggled regular began to enter the room only to stop in his tracks. He looks at Dalton, then at Maya, then back at Dalton before slowly stepping back through the door. The door slowly creaked shut, allowing silence to once again return to the room.

        “Five million,” Dalton stated suddenly, naming his price for the information Maya had retrieved.

        “I can get double that much from the next buyer,” Maya countered. “Twenty Million.”

        He smiled victoriously. “Deal.”

        Maya’s heart stopped. She tried her best to hide the surprise and awe, but found herself unable to regain her composure.

        “Do we have a deal? I can raise the price,” Dalton replied

        Maya numbly began to wave over Tavik when a voice stopped her.

        “Captain, I have a bad feeling about this,” it said.

        “Kol, you always have a bad feeling,” Maya blurted out. Her feet hit the floor hard as fear surged through her. She could have sworn it was the voice of her dead friend, yet that was impossible.

        “Um, Maya?” Tavik inquired. “Are we good?”

        Maya looked her dark skinned first-mate/helmsman, the young girl waited expectantly for Maya to give her an order.

        “Captain, don’t do it,” Kol’s voice pleaded once more.

        She frantically began to search for the source of the voice that had chosen such an inopportune time to make itself known.

        “Is everything okay?” Dalton asked, seeing Maya’s frantic expression.

        Maya hastily regained her composure. “No, I’m going to need a moment to think this over. I’ll let you know of my decision.” Her chair slid across the floor with a deep rumble as she stood on her feet. Without another word she turned on her heal to leave the room.

        “We had a deal,” Dalton called out to her, his anger was subtle, but clearly growing.

        “And I promise I’ll inform you of my decision soon,” she replied without turning around. It took all her willpower to not rush up the stairs and lock herself in her room until she figured out what was happening to her. She could hear Tavik apologizing to her client, and by the time she reached the top of the stairs she heard the audible crash of their door being slammed shut.

        “Maya, what in the hells compelled you to throw away twenty million?” Tavik called out to her.

        Maya didn’t respond. She shakily grasped the door’s handle and flung it open. Letting it close as she stepped into her room. Multiple colored blankets were strewn about, a few small pillows littered her floor, a torn drape lazily hung from the singular window.

        “Fuck!” she cursed to herself.

        “Language,” Kol chastised her.

        “What the hells was I thinking? Five million would have been good, I was simply hoping for ten at best, but twenty? Holy Nine Hells,” she argued.

        “You made the right decision, Captain,” Kol answered. Maya stopped her pacing, there he was standing clear as day before her.

        “You’re dead, I had a repair crew scrape your brain off the floors of my quarters,” Maya said, shaking her head in disbelief.

        “And you would be correct. Kol Rymbenth is still as dead as can be. I’m merely a figment of your imagination.”

        “What?” she asked in disbelief.

        “You don’t happen to have a familial history of mental illness do you? Maybe it’s a brain tumor?”

        “Fuck you, I need a drink,” she stated. Anger quickly took the place of fear. Which was good, anger kept her focused.

        “I don’t actually think it’s one of those things, but you considered it,” he called out to her as she trampled down the stairs. “I mean I’m really just a visual representation of whatever it is you believe is your conscience.”

        “You’re right, I am starting to regret killing you. You talked a lot less when you were alive.”

        Upon reaching the bottom she instantly walked behind the bar to pour her favorite drink. The black liquid splashed onto the twin ice cubes.

        “You didn’t trust him. Yet you didn’t trust yourself to not take the deal. So your mind conjured up the one person that’s always been your conscience,” Kol clarified, his forearms pressed against the counter.

        “Great, so I only have myself to blame for being out twenty million,” she grumbled before downing the liquid. She looked at the ghost of Kol, he smiled back. She poured herself another drink. Then another, and another, until finally whether through sheer will or as a result of intoxication from the delicious black liquid, he disappeared.

        She sat at the bar, alone, wrapped warmly in the comfort of silence. A long sigh escaped her lips as she basked in the burning sensation in her throat.  

        Suddenly, the front door burst open, Maya looked towards it with hazy eyes.

“We’re closed!” she shouted, but the prospective patron didn’t respond.

Before she could address him again, two more enter the bar from behind him. Maya’s survival instinct began to perk up. There was little doubt in her mind that they belonged to a mercenary outfit. Each of them were bruising looking fellows, scarred and tatted an inhumanly amount. With a quick glance at one another and a nod of their heads, the three mercs drew their weapons from the small of their backs. Already sensing danger, Maya managed to duck behind the bar a half second before they began opening fire.

Rounds tore into the glass bottles, showering Maya with a bevy of liquids. One particularly rare vial splashed onto her bare forearm eliciting a sharp intake of breath as it burned her skin. Hastily, she looked for a weapon. The old bartender had used to keep a shotgun behind the counter in case things got too rough, but judging by the look of things he’d taken it with him when he quit last week. Bastard, it wasn’t my fault he got the shit beat out of him because he delivered the wrong drink. She knew she kept a pistol somewhere in her office, but she doubted she’d make it the short distance required without getting shot.

When the assault finally stopped she took a deep breath, felt her body contract as it prepared to run, only to be halted again as another wave of projectiles peppered the back wall.

“Maya!” Tavik’s voice called out to her.

She looked up to see her first-mate crouched behind the door to her office, pistol in hand. Maya smiled with relief, she instantly held her hands out to receive the gift. Tavik placed it on the ground, and with one quick movement slid the metallic weapon across the floor. The pirate queen picked it up, her fingers curled anxiously around it. As soon as the gunfire ceased she popped up from behind the bar. The first shot went wide, but served to scramble the mercs. She readjusted and the second shot found its target, striking one of the hulking men in the kneecap. He crashed forward, breaking a table in half. Her third shot glanced off the armor of the merc with a fish tattoo on the back of his head. One ran right at her, she grinned as she had him dead to rights. Her finger flexed on the trigger, only to be met with a click. Fear jolted through her as the realization that she was empty coursed through her. The merc grinned, a flash of pointed teeth accentuated his broad shark like face. A meaty fist reached over the counter, grabbed her by the vest, and slammed her back onto the countertop. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the massive fist rise over her head. A shot rang out, halting the big man’s attack long enough for Maya to grab a nearby knife and plunge it into the thick tree branch arm of the mercenary. The beefy man rose up, a howl of anguish and rage on his lips. Another booming shot rang out, the mercenary looked behind him, then toppled over as he caught a full shotgun blast to the face.

Maya rolled off the counter, slowly her breath returned to her as she gazed at her attacker. Half his face had been rendered clean off, leaving nothing but a bloody mess of bone and muscle. She continued to slowly catch her breath when a figure approached her.

“Nice work Tavik, remind me to get you a raise,” she coughed through wheezing breaths.

“It wasn’t me,” Tavik replied upon peeking her head up from behind the bar.

Maya looked up to see a dark haired woman dressed in black, her icy eyes sent a chill through the pirate’s spine that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. In her left hand rested a smoking barrel of a plasma fueled shotgun.

“Miranda Locke,” the woman announced, holding her hand out to assist Maya to her feet.

The pirate gratefully latched onto her savior’s hand. Another shot rang out, causing Maya to jump slightly and Tavik to duck back behind the bar.

“Damn bastard insisted on not dying,” exclaimed a brown haired woman with a rose tattoo on the left side of her face. The illustrated flower wove its way past her jaw before disappearing beneath a blood spattered shirt and reappearing as a tangled vine on her forearm.

“Sorry about that,” Miranda apologized. “My partner isn’t the most polite of individuals.”

“I’m plenty polite, just not so good at showing it,” her partner replied. “Jameson Keyes, ma’am. See, polite.” Locke held out her hand in greeting, Maya turned away.

“It’s fine,” Maya answered in an attempt to shake off the tension that refused to leave, not to mention the inevitable bruises that would certainly develop later. Without missing a beat, the pirate queen skillfully reached over the counter in an attempt at retrieving a drink that could calm her nerves. For a moment all she found was empty space, until the cool touch of glass vanquished the last remaining traces of fear.

“So, what’d you do to piss those guys off?” inquired the rose tattooed woman.

“Honestly, I don’t have a clue. I owe them money?” she answered with a half shrug. “Where the hells are the glasses?” she exclaimed as she hopped over the counter.

“Does this happen often?” Miranda inquired.

When Maya didn’t answer Tavik replied. “Pretty much, just never involving us.”

The two newcomers looked at her in confusion. “Maya let’s her crew and customers do pretty much whatever they want, so long as they don’t leave to much of a mess. But if you mean incidents specifically targeting us? No, though I’m sure our recent fortune as attracted more attention than Maya’s usual antics.”

“Hey, how about a little less about me, and a little more helping me- aww, never mind,” Maya commented before tilting the bottle upside down to pour directly into her mouth. She gradually drained the bottle until she noticed everyone staring at her.

“It’s been a really long day,” she replied. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“We were looking for a place to stay, heard the gunfire, and decided to check it out,” Miranda explained.

“This your first time here?” Maya inquired.

“What makes you think that?” Keyes asked.

 “Let’s just say the kind of people that come here aren’t exactly the giving sort that would willingly run towards gunfire,” Tavik added.

“I wouldn’t call us giving, more mildly curious,” Keyes replied.

“Either way we’re grateful you came when you did,” the first mate continued. “Right, Maya?”

“Yeah,” the pirate said absently. Her gaze remained focused on the black liquid swirling in the bottle.

“Maya? Everything okay?” Tavik inquired.

Maya instantly snapped back into the present. “Fantastic,” she answered. “I was just ambushed in my own bar by a couple of thugs for hire who are now too dead to tell me who hired them,” she added.

“They’re not all dead,” Keyes commented from the back of the room.

The three of them turned to face her. “What?” Maya asked. Her brow furrowed slightly in annoyance.

“Last I checked the guy outside was still alive,” the tattooed woman explained.

“Well?” Maya responded impatiently.

“Well what?” Keyes asked incredulously.

“Well go get him,” Maya answered furiously.

By the time Keyes returned with her hostage Maya had already begun work on a second bottle, technically it was also the last bottle since everything else had been destroyed. She made a mental note to fix that problem ASAP, or better yet have Tavik fix that problem as soon as she finished cleaning up the shattered glass and broken tables.

The man in question was a scrawny malcontent, likely plucked off the streets by his more bruising companions to serve as a lookout. He had red ringed eyes, though one had been severely beaten in already. His nose seemed to drip excessively as he whimpered all the way from the door to the single seat placed directly in front of the pirate queen.

Once Locke and Keyes strapped to pathetic wretch into his chair Maya bent down to look the man in his dilated eyes. Like many on Boca Alacran that were interested in making a quick buck, this man reeked of various mind altering drugs that despite their ability to generate heightened euphoria, quickly left their charges a shell of what they might have been.

“You’ll, you’ll never get anything out of me. I swore an oath with my brothers.”

“You mean them?” Maya asked, stepping aside to reveal the mutilated corpses of the bruising mercenaries. “You might want to sit down for this.”

His throat clenched at the sight, Maya smiled.

“Now I can make this easy, or hard. Easy: you go home a few pieces richer and tell me who hired them. Hard: Well I’m sure you’ve figured that out.”

“Do your worst, I’m not afraid of you, Pirate Bitch,” he replied with false bravado.

Maya grinned. “I’m not the one you should be afraid of. In fact none of those present mean you any harm.”

The hostage pulled his head back and launched a thick globule at the pirate queen. Unfortunately, fear and dehydration limited the effectiveness of his attack causing it to drop limply onto his dirt stained shirt. Maya shook her head sadly. “Okay, I tried to do this the easy way.”

“Billie,” she called out. Out from her office trotted a black beast. It looked like a wolf, yet instead of fur black scales shimmered along its body. Down its back ran a thick arch of reddish fur that pooled around the top of its neck like a mane. Obediently, the creature sat next to Maya; its eyes remained locked on the bound man.

“Now I’m going to ask you again,” she stated.

“What? What the hells is that thing?” he stammered.

“Billie? I don’t have specific name for her species, I’m sure the Kulrathi have one. To be honest, I don’t really care, and neither should you. Because if you don’t, then you become my girl’s new chew toy.” She reached down to affectionately scratch the tuft of fur behind Billie’s head.

“I. I won’t,” he replied.

“One,” the pirate counted.

“I. I can’t,” he protested again.

“Two.”

“I don’t know, I swear.”

Maya shrugged.

“Three. Ataque,” she commanded. Billie lunged forward.

“Okay!” he screamed.

“Alto!” she called out.

Billie stopped at the man’s feet. He visibly shook with fear against his restraints. “Saint Jimmy!.”

“Who?”

“Saint Jimmy, he used to be a smuggler. Now he looks out for people like me, those Boca Alacran has forgotten.”
        “Why would a two-bit drug runner try to come onto my turf and take me out?”

No response. His eyes shifted back and forth as he anxiously tried come up with a suitable answer.

“Well?”

When he still didn’t respond Maya ordered Billie to attack. The beast lunged forward, striking the hostage’s right leg. The addict screamed in pain momentarily before rapidly pleading for Maya to call her off.

“We heard about the deal you were trying to make. Jimmy hired some mercenaries to take it from you.”

Maya leaned forward, her right hand gripped his wound tight enough to elicit a howling moan. “Why?”

“Because, because we’ll take Boca Alacran back from you pirates, mercenaries, and smugglers that have forced its people into the dirt.”

“See?” she stated with a curt pat on the cheek. “It’s so much easier if you just cooperate.”

In the blink of an eye she whipped her side arm out of its holster, the man’s eyes widened on either side of the silver barrel.

“Maya, he’s not worth it,” Kol’s voice pleaded in her head. “Just let him go, he’ll probably die anyways sooner rather than later. It doesn’t have to be you.”

She looked at the cowering man, terror morphed his sunken features. Maya holstered her weapon. “Free him,” she commanded.

“Are you sure?” Locke inquired. “He’ll probably report back to whoever this Jimmy guy is.”

“Just do it,” Maya replied forcefully. Locke and Keyes swiftly released the bonds holding the man in place.

“Thank you, thank you,” he stated to each person in the room.

“Don’t thank me, just go,” Maya said.

He nodded his head in affirmation before stumbling towards the door.

“I’m proud of you,“ Kol began to say.

“Ataque,” she commanded Billie. The creature sprang into action, agilely weaving between chairs and tables without making a sound. By the time the addict reached the door, four sets of razor sharp claws pierced his back as teeth sank into his neck. The man’s screams coupled with the excited growls of Maya’s pet before becoming muffled as the door closed n them both.

Maya looked maliciously at the “ghost” of her former friend. “He shouldn’t have thanked me,” she stated as she headed back towards her office to plan her next move.

“Tavik, make sure Billie gets a treat for being such a good girl,” she suggested as the door closed behind her.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Kol admonished her.

“Do you ever shut up?” she inquired before sitting in the large chair stuffed behind the desk.

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten that I’m merely a manifestation of your own thoughts and feelings, brought upon by the stress of killing your only friend in order to make a ridiculous amount of money, from people you’re aware are just as likely to kill you as they are to pay you.”

Maya didn’t respond. She needed to focus on something anything, alcohol certainly wasn’t doing it. That left only one thing that would take her mind off the thoughts that plagued her. Shoving the chair backwards, she stormed out of the office. Upon opening the door, she made a beeline towards Locke. The mercenary with the raven curls had caught her eye since she’d saved her life and Maya intended to do something about it. She was conversing with her partner when Maya approached. Before she could react, Maya spun her around and placed a hungry kiss on the mercenary’s lips.

 “You’re insane,” Locke replied once Maya pulled away.

“I know, why I need a distraction. So?”

Locke shrugs. “Okay.”

“Good.” Maya voraciously lunged forward, this time Locke kisses her back with a similar intensity. The pirate quickly grabbed her hand and pulled the raven haired beauty towards her room.

As soon as the lock clicked into place the two rogues snapped back together with an animal magnetism. Deft fingers tore at the clothes that bound them. Fingers caressed bare flesh, and experienced tongues battled for dominance. Their breaths increased in pace until, much to Locke’s disappointment, Maya ceased her activities.

“Don’t stop!” the merc scolded her.

“Trust me dearie, we’ll both enjoy what I’ve got in mind,” Maya teased as she traipsed across the room to reach into her dresser drawer. She slowed down a bit, letting Locke take in her curves in the soft amber light. When Maya finally turned around, much to Locke’s surprise and mild delight, it was revealed in her hands was a flesh-colored phallus. The pirate smiled wickedly before seductively inserting one end of the sex toy into herself. There was a light buzzing as the sensory nodes attached themselves.

“Now, where were we?” the pirate inquired as she made her way towards the grinning mercenary. Locke pulled Maya in for a long exchange, her fingers clawed at the pirate’s shoulder blades as the device slowly thrust into her. The thrum of the device built as Maya gradually picked up her pace. Flesh slapped together with an unleashed ferocity. All of Maya’s anger, guilt, and fear was channeled towards their respective climaxes. Then, with a ferocious roar of exhilaration the two rogues collapsed on the bed. Sweat clung to Maya’s skin, after a couple hard, labored breaths laughter began to take hold. Not maniacal, or even hysterical laughter. It was the laugh of endorphins flooding her system, a genuinely happy laugh. Something she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

“Glad to see it was good for you too,” Locke laughed.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize how much I needed that. I’ve been so focused on this deal, and everything, I just….”

“I know,” Locke replied.

It took a minute, but Maya eventually caught her breath. “This isn’t going to be weird for you and Keyes, is it?”

Locke laughed. “No, I’m not exactly her type.”

“Okay then,” Maya replied. “Good.”

 “So tell me, what’s with the star?” Maya inquired through heavy breaths.

“What star?” Locke asked.

“The one on your back.”

“It’s personal.”
“I just had you on all fours, swearing to the nine hells. I think you could give me a story at least,” Maya taunted her.

Locke sighed in reluctance. “I was part of a special operations unit tasked with rooting out insurgents on some of the inner planets. There were five of us. One day, we got ambushed while meeting up with an informant. One by one my squad was gunned down while we waited for Councilman Doran to make up his mind. By the time that bastard finally sent help, I was comforting my best friend as blood pooled in his lungs. The star represents each of those that died.”

Silence settled over the two women. Locke took a deep recovery breath then rolled to look at the pirate. “Alright, my turn. Why haven’t you sold this information of yours?”

“I didn’t trust the buyer.”

“Why?”

Maya sighed. “Gut instinct.”

 “So what’s your plan?”

“Continue to fuck your brains out until I collapse of a heart attack?”

“Seriously,” the merc replied.

“I have an idea, but I’m going to need some help.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“How much are you going to cost?”

“My price is negotiable,” she replied with a grin.