The Star-Bitch

The Star-Bitch

Status: Finished

Genre: Science Fiction

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Science Fiction

Summary

Vonda Andromeda, the Galaxy's sexiest, most badass bounty hunter, takes on the most dangerous missions and most devious enemies in The Star-Bitch.

Summary

Vonda Andromeda, the Galaxy's sexiest, most badass bounty hunter, takes on the most dangerous missions and most devious enemies in The Star-Bitch.

Chapter1 (v.1) - "Wasteland Warrior", Part 1

Author Chapter Note

Vonda Andromeda, the Galaxy's sexiest, most badass bounty hunter, takes on a mission with a devious band of mercs and ends up fighting for her life in "Wasteland Warrior".

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: April 07, 2015

Reads: 1057

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: April 07, 2015

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Wasteland-new(1).jpg

The Star-Bitch

in:

"Wasteland Warrior"

by Arcadia Noire

 

Vonda wiped the sweat from her brow with her moisture collector.  It had been ten minutes and the triple suns of Calibrax had worked her into a dripping heat.  It didn't help that at this time of day, in this particular phase of its 209-year cycle, there was no shade as the suns completely surrounded her from all sides.  At best, at "night" (for lack of a better word), one of the suns would set for a few hours.  But for the past 10 years and for the next 32, there would be no complete sundown on Calibrax.  The planet was passing through the middle part of its orbit, between the trinary system's three stars.  The worst was Abelgon Alpha, the blue giant.  Its heat was searing, even this far away.  The second star, Abelgon Beta was a yellow main sequence star and the red sun Abelgon Gamma was the farthest, and least troublesome.

Still, there was no escaping the suns' heat, any time of day.  The best Vonda could do was find a cave or burrow every now and then, but those were only good for a temporary respite.  She had to keep moving or she would die here on this dust bowl of a planet.

As she sucked away the sweat from under her arms and worked down her back and torso, Vonda cursed the name of Mars Harkin.  Mars and his merc group had been "recommended" to Vonda by her employer for her latest job.  "Recommended" meaning "forced or no deal".  Apparently her employer didn't believe she could pull off the job herself, as she had insisted. 

.

.

.

"Look, Proctor Kanan," Vonda had demanded, "I work alone.  I don't trust anyone to watch my back but me."

"I'm afraid I must insist," Proctor Kanan countered cordially, "consider it my insurance.  No offense, but I simply don't trust your...kind.  But if I hire two teams, they can keep each other in line, make sure the job is done."

Vonda let the insult roll off her back.  She'd been called a lot worse than untrustworthy - five times since breakfast today.  "I have experience with these types," she warned, "Mercs can't be trusted - they'd sell their own mother for an extra couple shares."

"Precisely why I want them, Ms. Andromeda," Kanan had coolly replied with the confidence of the filthy rich (as he was), knowing he had all the power in a transaction such as this, "I want men who will do whatever I say for an obscene amount of money.  And I'm willing to pay for extra men."

Proctor Kanan was a mid-level bureaucrat on the economically important planet of Fordex V in the Gallatin Division, in the upscale end of the Perseus Arm.  Like most politicians in the Gallatin Division, he was filthy rich.  It was essentially a corporatocracy, a system where capitalism eventually supplanted democracy.  To be a government official meant you had strong corporate ties and got a nice steady stream of "donations" from various businesses in exchange for passing laws that were good for their bottom line.  This led, naturally, to a massive chasm between the haves and have-nots, but the have-nots had no power and no say in the matter and the haves liked the system just the way it was.  Vonda wished she could say this system of government shocked and surprised her, but she found it depressingly familiar... And men like Proctor Kanan depressingly common.

"Sometimes less is more," Vonda had fruitlessly tried to explain.

"Said like someone who has always had less," Kanan smugly smirked.  Vonda had an urge to slap that smirk off his face and leave him with less - teeth, that is.  But he had the money.  And she needed a job.  And she never went back on a job.

She could have walked away, but business had been slow lately, and the kind of lifestyle she led left a trail of bills, debts and markers that she could only outrun for so long.  Occasionally, she had to make an honest living (well, "honest" might be stretching it) and take any crappy job that came along.  And this was turning out to be the crappiest so far.

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.

.

It had started out okay.  Vonda had agreed to take on the mercs as long as she still got the lion's share of the pay - 75%.  The employer didn't care how the split the money.

But, apparently, Mars did.

Vonda wasn't happy about having to make the trip on the merc's ship, leaving The Star-Bitch behind with ERGO.  She preferred to be in control of her own transportation, should the sudden need to get the fuck out arise.  But she knew it would be better this way.  She didn't trust these mercs enough to let them on her ship and the merc's ship was better armed and stealthier.

Besides, the trip wasn't without its perks.  Most of the mercs were butt-ugly dirtbags, but one of the humanoid female members of their crew was a real sexpot (Vonda figured that was probably her specialty in the group), and she was all over Vonda from the moment she stepped on board.  Her name was... Something or other, Vonda wasn't sure she'd caught it.  Jara?  Jana?  Java?  It didn't matter.  All that mattered was that fantastic ass on her which Vonda could not wait to dive into!  Jada knew it was her best asset, showing it off in her assless chaps and G-string, flaunting it to Vonda as she strutted around in front of her, swaying her hips back and forth seductively, cheeks jiggling with every step.  It took every iota of Vonda's willpower to not activate her cock genemod and jump Jala's ass right then and there!

On the weeklong trip to their mark on Calibrax, Jara had visited Vonda in her quarters practically every day.  The two fooled around, but Jaya kept teasing Vonda with her ass.  She let her grab it, slap it, kiss it and lick it, even finger it, making a big show of sucking her finger after and then slipping it back in, moaning and gyrating her hips maddeningly.  But when Vonda had well-lubricated that amazing butt and grew out her cock, ready for action, Jaja mewled "not yet, sexy".  She rubbed her ass up and down on Vonda's thick cock, moaning and sliding it between her deep, fleshy cheeks, but would not let Vonda slip it in.

Instead, she gave Vonda an expert blowjob, deep-throating her with considerable effort, and swallowing every drop of her she-jizz, a large load worked up by all of Jaza's anal teasing.  But Vonda never got to fuck that amazing ass.  She could have easily just taken her, and a lesser pirate would have - but Vonda was not into rape.  She liked it rough, she liked to give a good, hard fucking, but she was no rapist.

As they were about to land on Calibrax, Jaya sent Vonda a viscomm of her ass, bent over, cheeks spread, her perfect brown butthole winking at her in anticipation.  The accompanying message simply said "I'm ready - cargo bay".  After a week of teasing, Vonda didn't even think once before bolting down to the cargo bay, bowling over a couple of the crew in her mad rush to buttsex ecstasy.

When Vonda got to the dark cargo bay, she called out for her relentless cocktease, but got no response.  She sniffed the air with her genemod-enhanced nose, but smelled no trace of Jaxa's heady aroma - a mixture of Hanna rose and girl sweat.  Instead, she smelled the stench of three of Mars' brainless brutes and Vonda immediately knew she'd been had.  Sweet Jaja's ass had laid a trap for Vonda and she mindlessly waltzed right into it.  She was more disappointed by the realization that she wasn't going to get any of that sweet anal action than she was by the realization that Mars was trying to kill her.

Of course, Vonda never trusted anyone (and preferred to work alone because her distrust was almost always well earned).  She was not caught entirely by surprise, and was ready to take on three of Mars's biggest men.

The Hongorian had jumped the gun first and gave away the would-be assassins prematurely.  He howled and launched himself at Vonda clumsily.  A swift retractable stiletto to the windpipe put him out of commission quickly and gave her time to draw her flashgun. 

Rolling toward cover, she evaded the second assassin's poorly aimed laser and flashed his head clean away.  True to its name, the flashgun disrupted matter in a small radius where it hit, disrupting the chemical bonds and separating it into its component elements.  This gave off a flash of heat and light and left a confused, blood-gurgling stump on the Tagolite's neck.

The third assassin was either more clever or more scared and hung back, waiting for Vonda to make herself vulnerable.  She knew he had the advantage.  The only exit was behind him, and even if she did escape, the rest of the merc crew would be gunning for her.

"Was it something I said?" Vonda sarcastically asked, trying to buy some time to formulate a plan.  There was no answer.

"Tell Mars it doesn't have to be this way!" Vonda offered, "we can work together!"

"We work alone," Mars' voice came crackling over the speakers, "and we've had experience with your type.  Bounty Hunters can't be trusted.  You'd do the same to us if you’d thought of it first."

He wasn't totally wrong.  If Vonda found them getting in the way, she would have ditched them at the first opportunity.  But she would have completed the job, first.  She was cutthroat, but the mission came first.  And she didn't make a habit of killing anyone she didn't have to.  That tended to be neater in the short term, but to have long-term consequences that come back to haunt you.

Right now, though, she had a pretty good feeling that Mars Harkin was in definite need of a short-term solution.  But she had a ship full of mercs to fight through to get to him.

"Mars, your so-called 'men' are pathetic," Vonda taunted him, "I could keep wiping my ass with them all day, but I don't think you want to lose them ALL.  Why don't you come down here and we can talk this out.  Negotiate."

"Oh, so you can offer me twenty-six percent?" Vonda could hear him spit the words out with venom - literally.  His reptilian species had been uplifted by early Human rogue geneticists doing banned research on Jafar II.  The reptile men had revolted, killing the humans and taking over their colony.  The Herpetians were not known for their sunny dispositions.

"Hey, a lady's gotta make a living!" Vonda shrugged, looking around the cargo bay for the camera that Mars had been watching through, finding it just above the bay door, "how about... 27 and a half?"

"You insult me, Star-Bitch!" Mars spat, "there are 12 of us, and only 1 of you!  You should get..." He paused several seconds to do the mental arithmetic, "...12%!"

Herpetians were also not known for their strong math skills.

Just then, the last assassin came up behind Vonda and nearly ran her through with his nanoedged sword.  It was only the sudden silence of the speakers that gave Vonda the chance to hear the faint shuffling of his feet and clothes as he lunged.  The nanoedged sword's one-atom-thick cutting edge sliced cleanly through the breast of her environment suit, destroying the equipment and slicing superficially into her skin.  The sword cleanly sliced in half the cargo container she had been hiding behind.

Quickly she grabbed the Herpetian by both scaly wrists and tumbled backwards, using his (her?  It was hard to tell with them) momentum against him.

Mars Harkin watched eagerly on his monitor as Vonda and his first mate Korbo rolled around the cargo bay, grappling, wrestling, grunting and screaming.  Korbo was strong, his best man.  Mars knew he would finish off the troublesome greenskin monkey woman.

Then things went suddenly silent.  Mars saw no motion in the bay and swept the camera from side to side trying to see what happened.

"Korbo?" he called into the microphone, "is it done?"

"There!" called out one of his crew gathered around him, also watching the monitor.  They pointed to a shape on the screen and Mars zoomed in.

Vonda was wiping her ass with Korbo's face.  Korbo was either dead or unconscious.  Whichever it was, it didn't matter.  The Star-Bitch was still alive.  Vonda made an exaggerated show of flossing her crack with Mars' first mate and dropped him to the floor with a heavy thud,  flipping Mars the finger (an insult whose exact meaning was lost on him, but not the sentiment).

"Looks like you're down to 9 men, Mars," Vonda sneered, "by your math, that entitles you to only 9% now, right?"

"Wha-?!" Mars was speechless with rage.

After a few seconds of deep thought and finger counting, one of his fellow Herpetians turned to Mars and declared, "I think she's right..."

Mars shoved the crewman aside and scowled into the mic, "you think you're so smart, Star-Bitch!  Let's see you math your way out of this!!"

Vonda was so taken aback by the pathetically lame comeback that she was caught off -guard when the cargo bay door opened and dumped her and the contents out onto the planet below as Mars lifted the Tyrannosaurus off the planet (it wasn't that big of a ship, but apparently reptile men had the same tendency for overcompensation as ape men).

Vonda tumbled out of the bay, unable to find a finger hold.  At the last second, she managed to grab a strap that held her weight for a second.  She tried to pull herself back up, but she knew the longer she held on, the farther she would have to fall if she couldn't get back inside in time.  Her genemods could make her pretty tough, but not tough enough to survive on the outside of a ship, especially if they break atmosphere.

Vonda didn't really have much of a choice, though, as the strap turned out to be attached to Korbo's body.  It slid out of the bay, plummeting to the planet below, with her attached.

Korbo's only saving grace was that he acted as a bit of a cushion as Vonda fell the 50 metrons (about 150 feet) to the ground, landing on the side of a dune and sliding down it.

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That had been 5 days ago.  Mars surely believed Vonda to be dead by now.  But Vonda was a survivor, if she was nothing else.  Fortunately, she had come somewhat prepared, as their mission had actually been on Calibrax.  Only their target was about 100 kiltrons (about 60 miles) to the south, which she discovered after checking her navbox.  Before it shorted out from the heat and dust.

Though she had been wearing her environment suit, Korbo's blade had sliced it open and rendered its circulatory system useless.  Now it was just going to make her overheat, so she stripped down to the bare minimums.  Sunlight was actually good for her, as she had a permanent genemod that harnessed solar energy to power cellular regeneration (resulting in the green tint of her skin).  This would come in handy in repairing the cuts, bruises and sprains suffered in her tussle with Korbo (Herpetians are very strong and have large, sharp claws) and her subsequent fall.  Fortunately, the planet's gravity was a little below what she was used to, and its atmosphere a little thicker, both factors in slowing her fall enough for her to survive it.

However, her healing process required both nutrients and water, just like the advanced plant life the modded genes were derived from.

The only equipment of hers that fell out of the cargo bay with her was her blaster.  All her rations had been securely lashed down in the bay.  Likewise, her only source of water was her suit's water reclamation system.  That normally would have lasted her indefinitely if it had been intact and airtight, assuming the chemical makeup of the atmosphere was appropriate.  But with the suit ruined, that was not an option.

Instead, she had to strip the moisture reclaimers from the suit and stop periodically to manually sop up her sweat and collect her other fluids (all of them) so the filter could get to work and refill her jury-rigged water bottle.  It helped that Vonda had been something of an engineer in a former life.  Skills she never thought she'd ever need again, especially in this-

Vonda stopped herself.  Those were old memories, long past useless and nothing she enjoyed reminiscing about.  Besides, they were irrelevant to her present situation and getting distracted could get her killed.

As for food, Vonda had lucked out... Well, perhaps that depends on your perspective.  The three assassins had also fallen out with her.  All were dead, either by her hand or from the fall.

Vonda was no cannibal.  And she didn't believe in eating people, of any sentient species.  But desperate times called for desperate measures, and after a few days without food, she'd be getting pretty damned desperate.  She decided to be practical and peruse the menu, such as it was.

The Hongorian was huge and meaty and would last her weeks.  But he stank and was as filthy as the mud planet from which his people came.  She wouldn't eat him if you paid her.  She probably contracted a disease or two just looking at him.  Plus, he was just too dense to drag around, even in the lower G.

Toglites were much less sturdy, at least on the inside.  Their outer shell was tough enough, but inside they were soft, almost gooey meat.  Vonda had never eaten one, of course.  She knew what they looked like on the inside only because the Toglite had practically exploded on impact with the rock it smashed into after its fall.  Nothing edible left of him.  Besides, Vonda had heard Toglites had poisonous blood and she wasn't going to give her immune system genemods any more to fight than they already had to.

But the Herpetian.  Reptile was good meat.  It literally tasted like chicken.  In a way, it was too bad about Korbo.  Of the four of them, he was the best suited to survive on this desert planet, being a reptile and all.  As it was, he was going to become Korbo Jerky and help Vonda live long enough to get even with Mars.

.

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On the 10th day, Vonda was beginning to wonder if she'd gone the wrong way.  There didn't seem to be a single life form on this planet, not even a shrub or a sand mite.  And not a drop of water.  It would have been very easy to get turned around and become hopelessly lost.  But while the stars were never to be seen, the triple suns served as a fairly constant guide.  The blue giant rose and set in the south, so all she had to do was keep walking directly into the boiling heat of the stellar inferno.  If not for her heavy duty polarizing goggles she'd been wearing, she'd have gone blind on the first afternoon.

Water reclamation would only work for so long.  She was starting to run dry, inside and out.  And dying of thirst and dehydration was not a good way to go.  At least she still had her flashgun, in case things got too grim.  But that was not an out she would every truly consider, unless it was really the only way.  Vonda didn't like to lose, and she never gave up.  Whatever it took to get back at Mars, she would do.  Even if she had to cut off one of her arms and drink its blood to survive, she would do it and then bash that traitorous bastard's head in with the desiccated husk.

Regarding her flashgun, though, Vonda had a sudden "flash" of inspiration (pardoning the pun, she was getting pretty lightheaded at this point).  The flashgun worked by breaking molecular bonds and reducing matter to its base elements.  This meant anything with hydrogen and oxygen in it would break down into H2 and O2.  All she would need to do then was burn the hydrogen with the oxygen (oxidize it) to make water vapor, which she could let condense into drinkable water.  And she needed was a bit of heat.  And heat was the one of the primary byproducts of flashing something.

Vonda still had some moist chunks of Korbo left in her makeshift lizard skin backpack.  She needed to eat, too, but she could go a week without eating if she really had to.  She'd only last a few days in this heat without water. 

Carefully, she concocted a small basin to flash the meat in and put the moisture collectors at the bottom.  By burying the chamber in the sand, she could get it cool enough to condensation to form.  Sure enough, she was able to make about 20 midrams (about 16 ounces) of bloody slush, which the moisture reclaimer was able to filter down to 10 clean midrams of potable water.  Not as much as she hoped, but it was better than nothing and it would have to last her the last 12 kiltrons to the target site.  At a good pace, she could make that in a day or two (such as they were on this hellhole of a planet).

.

.

.

By day 13, she was counting her charges to make sure she had enough energy to flash her own head if it came to it.  At least it would be instantaneous, a painless death.  But the one thing that kept her going was preoccupying herself with all the imaginative, terrible ways she would make Mars pay for what he'd done.  The sad truth, though, was that he had probably already collected the entire bounty and was long gone, living it up with his traitorous mates and boasting about how easily he’d offed the infamous "Star-Bitch". 

And the other sad truth was that she was probably going to die on this sun-seared shithole of a planet.

But when she looked up from her flashgun as she came over the dune, she saw the unmistakable silhouette of the Tyrannosaurus.

She dropped instantly, flattening herself against the sandy dune, hiding behind it and only peeking over it.  She knew if anyone looked this way, her green skin and purple hair would stand out like a sore thumb against the orange-yellow dunes.

The ship was still a ways off.  It would be about a 100 metron run to cover the distance between the dune and the ship, with absolutely no cover in between.  She would use the flashgun to burrow, but she'd discovered early on, when trying to dig out some shelter from the sun, that the sand was too deep and loose and would collapse in on any tunnel almost immediately.  Plus she had only enough charges left for two, maybe three flashes.

There was no movement around the ship or the small structure it was parked at.  That must have been the outpost that they'd been told to go to.  According to Proctor Kanan, there was only one occupant there, and one who Kanan would prefer to see dead.  Why he felt that called for both Vonda and a whole team of mercs, she didn't know.  But the fact that the Tyrannosaurus was still there after nearly 2 weeks didn't bode well for the fates of Mars and his crew.  Whoever this hermit was, he was probably dangerous enough to have merited the extra attention, and then some.

The hunger, dehydration, heat and exhaustion made Vonda consider just running for the ship and taking it.  Really, seriously consider it.  But Vonda's value as a bounty hunter was based on her reputation as a woman who always completed the job, no matter the difficulty, no matter the circumstances, no matter the odds.

Waiting for the third sun to set, Vonda had a modicum of relative shade she could use for cover as she dashed to the Tyrannosaurus.  It was intact, and appeared completely abandoned.  The boarding ramp was down, but the hatch was sealed shut.  There were some claw marks on the hatch and what could have been blood on the ramp.  Not good signs, but not really telling.  In any case, it was locked up tight, so she wouldn't be getting any supplies or weapons from it.  And if she wanted off this planet, she was going to have to follow Mars and his crew into the outpost.

Checking her flashgun once more and cursing her luck, Vonda opened the main door and stepped inside....

 

It was much cooler inside, she immediately noted appreciatively.  And a bit dank, actually.  And dark.  Her goggles, unfortunately, weren't the ones with the infravision mode. But it was precisely for times like this that she had gotten the enhanced senses genemods.  Hypersensitive hearing alerted her to every little creak and groan of the station.  Low light vision helped her find her way.  Even high pressure sensitivity in the nerves in her skin allowed her to sense micro changes in pressure through the movement of the fine hairs on her limbs and body, giving her an almost preternatural ability to sense things right before they happened if she was focusing on it.

Vonda brought all these senses to bear, bringing the stimuli around her into sharp relief.  At first it seemed like the barren station had no secrets to give up, but then she heard... something.  Cracking sounds?  Wet sounds?  And vocal tones... All coming from down the stairwell to her left... Deeper into the dank darkness of the outpost.

Vonda steeled her nerves and crept as slowly and quietly as she could down the steps.  Fortunately, they were some sort of hard composite mineral, not unlike concrete, and therefore didn't creak or groan as she descended them silently.  Vonda had abandoned her stilettos at the planetfall site, another thing Mars was going to have to pay for.  She loved those boots!

Coming down a hallway, she saw signs of a battle.  Well, more like a slaughter.  There were blood stains from a few different species of merc on the wall, and blast marks to match.  Bloody trails led down the hallway where the wounded and dead had been dragged.  Vonda was not surprised by the scene, but still unsettled by it.  As she continued on, the sounds became clearer.  Ahead of her on the left side of the hallway was a wide opening into which all the blood trails disappeared.  It sounded like whatever was happening was happening in there.

"Please.... no..." came the weak plea of a voice she barely recognized as belonging to Mars Harkin.  There was no response.  Just... guttural sounds and that sickening sound... Vonda had a sudden lizard brain fear response.  She wanted to run, run as fast and as hard as she could and get as far away from that room as possible.

But she knew the only way off this planet was through that room, one way or another.

Preferably another Vonda thought to herself as she looked back the way she came and saw another doorway behind where she had come down the steps.

Opting for the back route, Vonda found herself in a sort of kitchen.  Beyond the kitchen, through some plastic flaps, she found a gruesome scene of carnage and offal.  The floor was strewn with the chewed and gnawed-on remains of dozens of sentients.  Bones with chew marks... Torn and tattered, blood-stained clothes.  Rotting and decaying heads... Some had been there for a while... Others were much fresher.  Like less than 2 weeks old...

As Vonda approached the room at the end of the chamber, and the sounds she now clearly identified as chewing got louder, she recognized the clothing of a few of the corpses.  Mars' men.  She wondered which one was Mars, or if he was still alive.  She thought of Jana, laying somewhere in this pile.

What a waste, Vonda thought with morbid humor, I wanted to eat that ass myself...

As she rounded the corner, she knew what she was going to see but it still revolted her.

Mars was lying on a table, held down by... something.  Something big and ugly and foul.

And that something was currently eating Mars' leg.


© Copyright 2017 ArcadiaNoire. All rights reserved.

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