The ship had docked at the closest space port under pitch black night, to set down for supplies and rendezvous with Elena. She'd been here taking care of some personal business and setting up preliminary negotiations to sell the shipment of guns they had been expecting. Unfortunately, expectations in this business are a very tenuous thing. Elena had talked a big game and the buyers, a small but vicious gang of Tylek gangsters who controlled a local neighborhood, were in desperate need, equipping themselves for an inevitable street war. She had managed to sneak away from the negotiation table only by virtue of her wits and the gun at her side. But the walk back to port was a long and stressful one, as the piling lists of responsibilities weighed on her mind. Ship tanks low on fuel, external firepower hovering on empty (and is Nikki ever trigger happy with them), cupboards nearly bare, debts owed to god knows how many loan sharks and gangsters. And now, perhaps unbeknownst to her, the promise Nikki had made to take in a new stray.

A stray that slept through their landing, freshly cleaned and bandaged for the first time in months, in a soft bed for the first time in just as long, safe in the knowledge that (for the moment at least), she was sheltered from the ever-present and inevitable intrusion of some sort of monster for the first time in years. Nikki had quietly slipped away to greet Nikki and the runt kept on snoring. For hours. and hours. Then a significant time spent just lying in bed, the pillow hugged to her chest, big blue eyes locked on the ceiling.

She crept out of bed, eyes cautiously scanning around the hall before slipping off to the tiny bathroom, for the moment not wanting to half to talk to anyone. Door in the tiny room locked, she splashes water on her face, checks herself in the dirty mirror. Nikki had let her dig through the closet, but neither of the pirates' improbable proportions came close to offering suitable clothing for her, so she settled on a simple red silk robe. She uncinched it in front of the dirty, smeared glass, letting it drop to her feet, looking over her slender body, so different than mere months ago when she'd last had the luxury of a mirror. Barbells pierce her small, softly pink nipples, a few rings gleam from the cleft of her girlish sex, a spark of metal from tongue whenever she opens her mouth. She turned in profile, fingers tracing the ridged and still sensitive raise of scar tissue over the tender curve of her rump: "#S239", branded with hot iron, a reminder of her status in the galactic community as meat, as a commodity. The same tattooed on her forehead, she smoothed her bangs out to insure they still covered it. Nothing she could do about the tattoo around her neck, the criss-cross of chains, ink choke collar signifying her status, the visual extending to a tattooed leash crawling down between her shoulders. She felt her chest seize up as anxiety hit her like a sledgehammer, frantically digging through the bathroom cabinet for pills, for something, anything, that could ease the immediate burden of being.

It's morning over the station now. Elise, draped back in her robe, is settled at the sturdy, bleak iron table of their spartan kitchen space, furniture immovable and ratcheted down to the floorboards. Her plate stacked with a variety of pastes distinguished by a mix of bland colors, a couple slabs of something that superficially resembles bacon or jerky. A clay mug is filled with a thick black coffee that retains the consistency of stew. The local news pipes in through their newsfeed, when it's not interrupted by the intermittent static on the battered old device. Brow faintly knitted, she eats with her hands and tries to make sense of the words coming from the box.

Walking down a relatively empty street, a young woman in her late twenties was going over things on her tablet, trying to figure out what to do now. While she was in the unsavory business of stealing from pirates and setting up deals with other criminals, one wouldn't have expected it from someone who looked like her, dressed in only a mini-short that she had worn more for comfort than modesty, along with a sheer halter top, completed with a white feathered coat.

Thanks to her conditioning at the hands of her ex-master, it was as close as she could get to being dressed without appearing... Well, slutty. Times like these, the woman had more than a few choice words for the dead bastard.

"Goddamn assholes..." Elena grumbled to herself as she made her way back toward the ship. It was supposed to go the way she had expected, but who had known the fuckers would have been transporting porno of all things. Just like filthy men, the woman supposed. Either had to have guns to shoot or have shit to wank off to, didn't they? She had nearly died back then, and this was something she hated to admit, even to herself.

Thank god for wits. No, let's rephrase that. Thank god they hadn't been beaten out of her after everything she had been through.

Just figures, though. It should have been a routine job. She knew Nikki was more than capable of getting through it. Just a matter of how many ammo she had to go through. Trigger happy, they had to have made up that word for her specifically... Still, though it had been a botched job, with an entirely unexpected cargo of friggin' stupid crap like porn, Elena was genuinely happy that the woman had gotten out of it all right.

Before long, she got back to the ship and climbed into it, closing the entrance behind her. Feeling much more comfortable now that she was in a familiar place, Elena pulled off her sunglasses and undid the belt that held her holstered weapon, leaving them on a nearby seat before pushing on forward into the main room. Seeing no one around, the pirate sighed as she dragged her coat off and kicked the shoes off her feet.

Toes wriggling now that they were free, Elena gave herself a stretch or two before making her way toward the kitchen, where she heard the newsfeed crackling as it usually did, thinking that Nikki would be there. Though, what greeted her was a different girl than who she had been expecting. For one, it wasn't the usual brown hair with pink mixed in that she liked. It was black instead.

Standing there at the entrance into the kitchen, Elena leaned against the side and wondered just where the hell Nikki was and more importantly, just-

"Who the hell are you?"

This is an aberration is what it is, a wrinkle in the predicated fabric of their very structured and very important time tables. This one seems to have the opposite problem. One guesses she'd have to make a genuine show of effort to make herself look slutty. She looks like the girl who slept over, the girl who just got fucked. Were she not in the kitchen of a pirate ship decked in an alien-packed spaceship port millions of light years from Earth, anyone would assume her to just be a cute but perfectly ordinary hipster girl, who spent the night with friends after a Belle and Sebastian concert rather than drive home, who maybe fooled around with whomever's bed she shared not out of rampant sluttiness but an unspoken obligation of friendship contracts. None of these thoughts run through her mind in the brief moment where she catches sight of Elena. Her hand moves instinctively to rub at the back of her neck, abashedly trying to cover the tattoo. She sips the coffee and has to choke down a cough. "Based on your expression I'm...... um...." Her nose crinkles up cutely. Be good, Elise. Make friends. Do the Zooey Deschanel thing. "The shocking plot twist?"

Elise has done a remarkable job of calming herself since her breakdown in the bathroom, especially in regards to the roller coaster her life has been up until, well, up until an unspecified but hopefully near point of time in the future. Or at least, she does a good job hiding it. Elena can't hear the way her heart races against her rib cage as if desperate to break free; or the way her chest is clenching like a fist, as if it would rather just shut her body down than deal with this anxiety of new people, of this threat of a new life; or the way every muscle in her body stands at attention; or that little whisper somewhere imagined perhaps that says "At least you knew the expectations in the pits.". All of these thoughts do cross her mind, over and over, unaware that for moments she's just blankly staring at this new arrival, mug dangling in limp hand, precipitously balanced. God.

Why couldn't it just have been Nikki?

Her throat is dry like sandpaper. For a moment, she's absolutely certain words won't even come out of it. "Would you like some of these bacon jerkyish possibly meat based strips? They don't taste like anything good." If there's one talent she's always had, it's saying words without thinking.

None too concerned about her own appearance, only as to whenever her clothes were comfortable and fashionable enough, the woman didn't really care about how people saw her. Especially considering when she couldn't help it anymore.

As loathed as she was to admit it, the slaver she had belonged to had certainly been quite proficient at breaking his girls down and molding them into something more acceptable to his predilection. She had been comfortable being in the nude beforehand but that had been back when it had been a choice, not a trained compulsion. However, all of this was something that the stray would be sure to learn about if she was staying aboard with the two pirates for longer. Though, that wasn't something Elena was aware of.

Yet, at any rate. For the time being, however, the blonde blinked at what she considered to be a rather vague yet amusing answer. "Hm, haven't had anyone say something like that to me."

Not really caring in the least, the woman figured that this was probably a friend of Nikki from the spaceport who she had invited aboard the ship. Thinking that to be the case, Elena stepped into the kitchen and swept past the table, ignoring the girl for the time being as she made her way toward the coffee machine. Making another one of her usual faces at the sight of the thick coffee, the pirate poured a cup for herself as she was used to it by now at least. Something was always better than nothing. That was a truth she had gotten quite intimate with lately.

Turning around, the woman settled herself into a chair at the table, opposite from Nikki's stray. Forcing the coffee down as she kept looking at the tablet, hoping to find something new to do or at least a couple of job offers, anything to pull in money. Upon being asked whenever she would like to eat what the girl had made, Elena peeked up at her plate then at Elise. "Observant, aren't you? But yeah, I agree, they taste crappy. Got more important things to spend money on than food, though. Fuel, for one. Supplies, for another. Ammo, as seeing as Nikki likes to go through them..." Though, Elena does indeed pick up one of the strips of meat and helps herself to a bite.

It doesn't stop the woman from looking up at Elise again, even as she helps herself to another sip from the cup of coffee, forcing it down yet again. "So... You Nikki's friend or something? Where is she anyhow?"

The index finger of her bandaged hand swirls the mash together absently as her eyes cautiously follow the pirate into the kitchen, then back out, her expression owlish. Her hand never leaves the back of her neck, thighs pressing together, heels lifted, twisting apart underneath the table in awkward, girlish gesture. "Mm? Maybe it's overdue someone did." she murmurs at Elena's befuddlement. Someone did say something like that, that is. The tone suggests she's talking to herself, but it's clearly loud enough to be heard. Her nose wrinkles as Elena munches on the strip, as if the very thought of someone eating such disgusting filth is enough to make her sick. Then she grabs the last one and practically inhales it.

"She sure seems to..." she muses over that. "And we're something like that, I guess. Really just met her, snuck out of bed without saying where she might be going." There's a brief pause, her eyes on her own coffee until she realizes how that might have been taken. Eyes flick back up to Elena. "That's not me being bitter spurned new lover girl. It's not like that. I just meant, I don't know where she is. Barely know her at all."

Another pause. It's longer this time, and it's certainly awkward. She sips her coffee because it gives her something to do. "I'm the cargo from the Blue Hog."

So far, the pirate wasn't getting much of a vibe from the stray. Most of the time, dealing with people that either wanted to kill you or fuck you usually gave you some sort of instinct in dealing with them. But this one was somewhat unusual. Or rather, eccentric. Yeah, that was what it felt like to Elena when she looked up at the girl, taking another bite from the strip, as horrible as it looked and tasted.

It doesn't take long before she drops the strip and picks up her coffee again, drinking some more as she returns her attention to the tablet, poking around some more as she listened to the girl musing.

She did not even so much as raise an eyebrow at what Elise had said, nor at her next remark as she tried to clarify a bit further. She was already well aware of Nikki's habits, as she shared many of them herself as well. There were indeed plenty of spurned lovers, whenever they were girls or men, but as things were, they had to be on the move all the time, which made it pretty much a regular thing for the outlaws.

Though, after a somewhat uncomfortable silence, the blonde listened as Elise finally revealed where she had come from. Not a friend of Nikki's after all. Well, not an old friend, relative as the term may be, of the outlaw. It does, though, drag the woman's attention back up to the girl, albeit with a soft sigh.

"I keep telling her to not bring home every stray she finds." Elena says as she put her cup down, looking at the girl more closely, noticing little details here and there. "I don't know what the hell Nikki told you but... Whatever you want to do, you go ahead and do it. You decide you wanna get off, make your way on your own, be my guest."

Once she had put her cup down, Elena kept on looking at the girl, wondering whenever she was going to regret this or not. Nikki had brought her on board, so there had to be something more to it. Plus, her being cargo usually meant one thing: She happens to be a slave. And as far as she knew, there was only one place where young and nubile human girls came from, the same place she had come from herself. There was a strange sense of being connected... Still, best to not reveal that just yet, not until she knew more anyway.

"... If you wanna stay here with Nikki and me, you're welcomed to, as long as you do your part. It ain't gonna be a free ride, you know."

"Christ. Make a girl feel welcome, why don't you?" But her voice doesn't sound particularly bitter. More... bemused. And it's matched to the first genuine smile she's worn since Elena walked through the door. She snatches up the tough, half-finished strip and devours it flat.

"Seems like you could use some help anyway. I suspect you could have made some good cash off those tapes. And your girlfriend killed one of this fucked up galaxy's most well respected porn stars. And then there's me, practically the rising star of the booming 'get fucked by hideous space monsters on camera' genre." Her tone of voice quickly turns from sharp and glibly sardonic to authentically morose. A lot of girls died on those tapes, a lot of girls she'd met. And she was on her own fair share of them herself. "What's that phrase? Don't look a cock-sucking gift horse in its jizz-filled mouth?"

She sighs, trembling visibly now, both hands wrapped around the mug, as she forgets the intention of covering up the neck tattoo. What's the point now, anyway? She slugs back a drink of the cold, only vaguely coffee-like, syrup. "No. Seriously, though. I get it. I do appreciate the thought. You're willing to put me up and there's clearly barely enough to go around for just the two of you. But I've got things that need doing. I just need, I don't know.... a few days? A couple weeks? Something like that to get my plans in order." Eyes lift to try and read the pirate's expression. She knows the woman is looking at her, but she feels compelled to know how she's looking at her. "Besides, I have a habit of falling in with girls like you two. And girls like you two have a habit of falling in with me. And I'm certain that would be a bad idea."

"Sounds like par for course to me, honestly. Though, I ain't interested in selling that crap, especially not when it comes from slavers. No offense, but I was kinda expecting something like... You know, guns and bombs, not..."

Her voice trails off as she instead help herself to more of the coffee, not really looking right at Elise at this point. Being a slave once herself, she could expect most of what the girl must have seen and was somewhat blunted to the horror of it all. For the time being though, all she was concerned with was surviving, not sucking and fucking. "That has gotta be the most gross phrase I've ever heard... Honestly, that's just horrible." The woman smiles softly as she look up at the stray again, seeing her tremble as she sit there, hands closed around her own mug.

It's only then that she notices what happens to be on Elise's neck, no longer obstructed. If she had been brought in and trained by who the woman was thinking, she was somewhat surprised, somewhat impressed, that this girl was at least this together. Though, it could have very well be a facade that's about to break, a brave smile that's about to shatter.

"Yeah. I'm sure you appreciate it and all but you don't have to worry about us. Barely enough for us, right. We'll be just fine, always plenty of jobs to take on and plenty of money to make." It's only through reminiscing about her own terrifying past that she can keep a straight face herself, not wanting to let anything else interfere with the facade she herself wore, the thing that everyone else saw but only a certain girl see through. Though, she does push her chair out and get up from the table, leaving behind the tablet and the coffee she had been drinking. "Take the time you need to figure your shit out, I'm sure Nikki will be more than happy to help you out. Just something to keep in mind, though... It's a pretty big place out there, hard to get anything done without having someone to watch your back. Hard to do that without girls like us."

Just as she make her way to the entrance of the kitchen, Elena stops again and looks back at the stray, though it seems to be with a pained expression, almost as if she is remembering something from her past. "One more thing. She's been through enough already. You hurt Nikki in any way, I'll shoot you. None of that warning shot crap..." She sighs as she looks away, uncomfortable with treating a slave like that, feeling no different than the scum that had abused her for years. "Fuck." The word is barely just a whisper as she move away from the kitchen and, after stumbling just a bit, into the bedroom the girl had been sleeping in before, dragging her halter top off quickly, the already skimpy shirt feeling quite confining to her, as she stumbles onto the bed, panting hard and trying to draw in shuddering breaths as a thought familiar to the one that had gone through Elise's own head.

Why couldn't it just have been Nikki?

Good. Right answer. The fame wouldn't have been what it was cut out to be anyway. Still, royalties off video sales would have been nice. Head bowed, she stares vacantly over her coffee as the woman talks. The routine was easy from the moment she woke up: rise from bed, wash up, make breakfast, eat over the morning news; a comfortable routine to fall back into. But now that all those little tasks have been expired, she's at a loss for what she's supposed to do now. This world is foreign to her, and suddenly freedom doesn't seem that free at all.

"Girls like you. Sure." Eyebrow raised cynically as she transitions into the tough girl act. "Look, chick, I have no intention of stealing your girlfriend away from you, and all you have to do is glance over me to realize I'm not exactly filet mignon. Not gonna touch her, alright? I'm perfectly happy just loving myself for the rest of my life." Another sip of the coffee and she pushes it away, reaching into robe pocket with injured wrist, she palms something. A soft hiss between lips, the pain killers clearly starting to wear off. "But there is something else a girl like you could--" Glance over shoulder and she realizes suddenly she's talking to herself. She sets the object on the table, some sort of metal card, a little smaller in width an height than a book, maybe a half an inch thick. "Oh. Well, never mind..." Stacking mug on plate, she lifts to her feet and carries them to the sink. "Well aren't you a peach..."

"Shit."

Elena sighed as she turned around on the bed, back resting against the blanket as she stared up at the ceiling. There was still that uncomfortable sensation lingering but it wasn't as bad now that she had a chance to shut up and relax.

The little incident with the Tylek gang must had put her on her nerves too much, she supposed, and to come back home and find a new girl sitting in the kitchen and Nikki nowhere... Nah, it had to be the coffee. She hadn't managed to get around to fixing the stupid machine yet so it was still serving crappy coffee. She'd have to get on that soon.

Still, she felt bad for taking some of it out on the stray, even though she had done nothing to Elena to earn it. Other than being the 'shocking plot twist', that is. She just knew Nikki was gonna scold her for that. For shooting her mouth off without thinking again and making a guest uncomfortable. Well, she wasn't sure if that was it but all the same... "Stupid, stupid..." Letting out another sigh, the pirate got off the bed and went rummaging through her wardrobe, pulling out a baggy shirt and pulled it on. As much as she didn't want to, she'd have to try and make up for her problems. At least for her friend's sake.

Once she was back at the kitchen's entrance, Elena was silent for a moment as she tried to figured out what to say, what to do. Well, apologizing would probably be a start. "Uh, listen, I'm sorry. I'm just not used to being, um... Shit. This isn't easy." Ah, to hell with it. It wasn't like it'd be the end of the world if she screwed up again. Worst case, Nikki would just fix it. "I didn't mean what I said before. It's just, fuck, I'm not used to this crap but I'd like you to stay here, as long as you like."

It's only then that Elena looks up at the other girl. "I know it can't be easy, actually. Going from being, um, 'cargo' to being free and all that. If you need to, you know, talk..."

((Sorry it took me a few days! Was busy all weekend))

She sets about washing her dishes, wondering briefly if she did something wrong there. It's not often she questions herself, but having been outside the reach of human contact for so long, she considers that maybe she's overlooked some crucial bit of etiquette. Reaclimating oneself back into society isn't easy, is it? Even on the fringes. Hands tremble as she runs them through soapy water. The plate slips, splintering into shards in stainless steel sink. "Cunt!" she growls, in time to turn to face Elena. No, she decides. She hasn't done a damn thing wrong, drying her hands on dish rags as the pretty pirate talks. She slings it back on to the counter top, brow rising incredulously at the therapy offer. It just dredges up memories. "Maybe we can go to the boudoir and you can finger yourself while I regale you with stories of sleepless, tiring nights in the filthy stables of milord's racing studs." She feels her knees go weak, mouth dry. Distantly she's aware that yes, in this situation she absolutely did say something wrong, but she's light-headed, on the verge of fainting, bile turning over in her stomach, and she locks her elbows behind her to find support against the kitchen counter. Silently, she counts her way back to reality.

"Sorry..." Her voice almost meek, raspy, her throat like sandpaper. "Sorry. Really. If you want to help, I yanked something from the console of that crashing ship. Kind of hoping it's a log, or manifest or something, but I'm a few years behind on all this retro-punk sci-fi tech. For all I know, it's the FM radio." Sinking to a seat on the floor, propped against counter cabinets. "Does anyone on this bucket smoke?"

She had figured that the offer of therapy would only be unwanted at this point, as she had been much the same after stumbling into the embrace of freedom herself, still it was always good to know you had options. There was always later, after all.

The remark, though, only made the outlaw raise her eyebrow as well, mostly in surprise for having such a mouth even after everything she had been through. It had taken the pirate herself a good while to even start cursing. Though, she couldn't help smiling just a bit; Way Elena saw it, sarcasm was always a good sign. Though, the look of Elise had her concerned.

At the sight of the stray appearing as if she was about to pass out, Elena pushed across the kitchen, stopping just beside her when the girl found support of her own.

Her hand began sliding up and down the girl's back as Elena listened to her talk, looking at the table where the metal card was. She briefly considered teasing the girl and telling her that it was indeed a card for the radio but decides against it. "I'll take a look at it when I got the time, but let's see what we can do for you first..."

Though she still doesn't feel all that comfortable, the pirate smiles at the question, thinking that they had something in common at least. Leaving Elise where she had seated herself, Elena began pulling out a pack of her favorite brand and held it up in front of the stray. "I do, actually. Nebula Galaxy, my favorite. I rather have what I used to smoke back on Earth but this stuff isn't all that bad."

Her back arches subconsciously against Elena's gentle touch, chin tipped up to receive the cigarette and light. "Hello cancer my old friend...." She drags, coughs. "Been too long, baby." For a long moment, she doesn't say anything, just stares ahead. It takes a moment for her to realize she's staring at Elena's legs, following their supple, toned arch as the pirate crouches in front of her. Eyes close briefly as she takes another drag. God help her and everyone else, these are exactly her kind of women.

"Look. I get it. Two girls against the universe, playing at pirates. You and Nikki, I get it, it's kind of, you know, romantic. But why are you still out here? Why haven't you gone home?" Realizing, as she says it, that she doesn't even know what home is for these girls. Doesn't even know if they're human at all, if they were born on Earth, hell, if Earth is even there. Head rolls back, eyes lingering on the ceiling then slipping closed. Ash climbs the length of the cigarette. "Why this life?"