Void and Chaos, K’rra thought. All she wanted was to spend her days tending to Kaster. Waiting patiently for him on her knees, ready to please or service him in any way he desired. And if his needs were slow in building, teasing, taunting, and alluring him into service.

He’d sacrificed his arm and still came to rescue her. All she had done to repay him was one languid blow job after days of exhausting ordeal. She wanted him hungry for her. She wanted his hands all over her, his eyes consuming every inch of his skin. The thought of her fingers touching his strange pink skin gave the wicked thrills she wanted to indulge in for days.

Even as they walked through the forests of this empty world, she imagined him suddenly needing her, tossing her down, throwing her against a tree, tearing her jumpsuit off, and sating himself in her in every depraved way imaginable.

Instead, disaster seemed to follow them like a starving plaguehound.

Kaster lunged forward, shoving K’rra hard. She went tumbling backward, tripping, falling to her ass, and sending the satchel flying.

A dark streak fell from the trees. Kaster leaped, rolling aside as a WaveBlade swept past him. He was on his feet again, standing between K’rra and the Fury Jae.

A bolt of icy dread swept up K’rra’s spine. She’d dealt with the Fury once before. She was competent and clever. K’rra had barely outsmarted her, and the Fury would be doubly on her guard this time.

But something was not quite right. It was Jae, but there was a hardness etched on her face. Instead of the Fury robes, Jae was wearing skin-tight leathers, tattered and frayed on the edges. Her hair was like her eyes, wild and unkempt. K’rra realized she was looking at a wilder, more primal version of the woman she’d dealt with on Obeza.

The Fury’s WaveBlade sputtered and hissed angrily. Even that seemed wild and barely controlled.

Kaster held his arms spread at waist level with palms open in a non-hostile gesture.

The wild Jae laughed, “Another Fury come to hunt me?”

“No,” Kaster said, “Only to talk.”

The wild Fury crouched down low, holding her Blade out to a side. “Lies. More Fury lies.”

Kaster bent his knees, getting into a half crouch himself. Scrambling backward away from both, K’rra couldn’t help but think of night tigers, two apex predators preparing to pounce.

“I’m no Fury.” Kaster spat back.

She leaped. Her Blade swung around and then swept up to cut him. Kaster dodged, stepping away on one foot as her Blade went past. She reversed and spun. Her Blade left a glowing trail as it swept again but missed its target. Kaster ducked under the Blade into the woman wielding it. He shoved with both hands sending the woman flying.

The rogue Fury flipped in mid-air and landed in a crouch with the Blade low and parallel to the ground.

She snarled, “You fight like one.”

“And so do you. Does that make you a Fury?”

She growled and sprang at him. He danced backward, sidestepping a flurry of sweeps. K’rra felt violently ill watching. One wrong step, and he would be dead.

Kaster fled behind a tree trunk as a vicious cut sliced through the bark. Superheated sap vaporized, creating a small explosion of splinters. The tree creaked violently and began to lean where a huge chunk had been blasted away. K’rra watched in horror as the tree crashed down but was caught by a neighbor and suspended at an angle.

The woman paced around the fallen tree, relentlessly hunting Kaster. He swept the ground with his hands, grabbing fistfuls of dirt and pine needles. She lunged. Kaster flung a handful of needles. She ducked under the cloud of debris, and he hit her with the second handful. When she jerked back in pain, Kaster moved past her, jumping up onto the fallen tree that had toppled onto the others.

Eager for the hunt, she chased him, the two dashing quickly and carefully up the fallen trunk. Kaster stepped on a branch in his way, bending it back so he could pass. He paused a moment to look back at his pursuer. He stepped off the branch when she approached, making it snap viciously back to her. The Blade swept, and the branch went spinning to the ground twenty yards below.

As he neared the top of the fallen tree, it began bending under his weight. She stopped and bounced, testing her weight on the tree. K’rra watched helplessly as the tree top swayed under the weight of two fit adults. The supporting tree branches creaked. K’rra knew there was too much weight, and it would collapse in a moment. Worry consumed the scientist. Branches could easily spear through either one of them.

“Do you yield for parley?” Kaster asked.

Frustrated, the Fury growled at him. “Why would I? You’re unarmed.”

“But I have the high ground.”

She charged. Kaster stepped off. He dropped a few meters, then caught the branch of one of the supporting trees and swung into its trunk. The Fury slowed, but it was too late. The creaking doubled then there was a snap. The fallen tree dropped just a few meters and then was caught on other branches.

The Fury easily rode out the fall, but the sudden stop was unexpected. She lost her footing and slipped, the trunk hitting her like a club in the upper leg. The impact caused a second round of creaking, then another snap. The trunk fell again, taking the wounded Fury with it. She tried riding it down, but it jerked as it hit other branches, causing more branches to snap and then another fall. The trunk and the Fury fell to the ground in spurts, battered the whole way down.

A thick cloud of pine needles, vegetation, and earth billowed up when the trunk crashed into the ground.

Kaster descended in circles down his tree, running as if using a spiral staircase. When close, he flung himself into the tangle of smashed branches. K’rra could see nothing but heard grunting and cursing.

Finally, the Fury staggered into view from the wrecked tree. Behind her, Kaster held her by the scruff of her tattered blouse with his mechanical arm. In his other hand, he gripped the pommel of a WaveBlade, no longer ignited.

K’rra jumped to her feet and rushed at Kaster. She slapped him hard on his real arm, “Blast it, Sir. Don’t you ever put me through a scare like that again.”

“Calm yourself,” Kaster said, panting heavily. “And fetch your medical bag.”

K’rra looked at the captured woman to see her clutching her side beneath the ribs. Blood seeped through her fingers.

“Oh, stars!” K’rra gasped, then rushed to find her bag.

When she returned, Kaster and the Fury were sitting, leaning against the fallen tree stump. Kaster had his mechanical hand around the back of the Fury’s neck.

K’rra knelt in front of the Rogue Fury and pulled out the medical scanner. “I’m going to lift your hands and scan the wound.”

“I don’t want your technological wondertoy. Leave my wounds to me.”

“There’s a lot of blood. The wound is on the right side of your torso. You very well could have a laceration to your liver. Just let me take a peek, okay?” K’rra said while gently pulling on the woman’s hands.

Kaster tightened his grip, and the woman relented allowing K’rra to pull her hands aside. Blood oozed down her torso. It was worse than K’rra had thought. Instead of a cut, there was a puncture, probably from a snapped branch.

The scanner confirmed the worst of it. “Stars. Puncture goes through the liver. There’s a lot of internal bleeding.”

“It’s serious?” Kaster asked.

“No,” K’rra said, “It’s deadly. The liver is a highly vascular organ, meaning there's going to be a lot of internal bleeding. I’m going to hit her with a coagulant, but we’ll need to get her to the auto-doc as fast as possible to clean it up properly.”

Rummaging in the satchel, K’rra found a hypo-gun and loaded it with the medication she needed. The woman reached out and grabbed K’rra’s wrist. “Leave it. I can heal this myself.”

“No,” K’rra said, “You can’t just wish this injury away.”

“My wishes are powerful things.”

“Let the doctor fix you up,” Kaster said. “It’ll save you a lot of Focus.”

With a growl, the woman released K’rra’s wrist. K’rra explained, “This will hurt, but there's anesthesia as well. The pain will fade quickly.” She then thrust the nozzle of the hypo-gun into the wound and depressed the trigger.

The Fury groaned but reacted much better than K’rra imagined someone with a gut wound would. She told Kaster, “We need to get her to the ship as fast as possible. It’s a damn good thing I restocked the doc. She probably shouldn’t walk. Can we carry her between us?”

“I’ll take her on my back,” Kaster said.

K’rra didn’t like the thought of the woman’s wound pressed to Kaster’s back or all the jostling, but it would shorten the trip considerably. She nodded, and Kaster stood, guiding the Fury to hold onto his neck and wrap her legs around him. She winced but did as she was told. The return trip took a handful of minutes.

At the ship, Kaster rushed the Fury to the autodoc. As he explained that the device would help her heal, K’rra casually walked to the controls and had it deliver a powerful anesthesia. The Fury’s protests dwindled until she was slumbering. The machine then cut away the tattered clothing at the injury and began probing into the wound.

“Come with me,” Kaster said.

K’rra followed him to the cockpit, where she set a course to a nearby system. They rocketed through the atmosphere and into space. Before jumping, Kaster insisted on a quick orbit of one of the moons. He wanted to ensure no one followed them.

After a few hours of flight operations, Kaster was satisfied that they were alone. He watched the scanners carefully up until they made their jump.

With a sigh, K’rra returned to the common area and collapsed onto a couch.

“How long will it take?” Kaster asked.

K’rra consulted her datapad, “The puncture wasn’t terribly deep. A few hours to repair the worst of it. She’ll be sore and need meds for a few days.”

“Is she completely under?” Kaster asked.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He said as his flesh hand gripped her thigh, “Seems to me you are a little overdressed for a slave.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, leaping up to strip out of her jumpsuit. Naked, she knelt before him, gazing up as he lounged starfish-style across the couch. “Does Sir have any needs that I should attend?”

“All of them,” he told her.

She delighted in crawling forward and opening his loose trousers. She sucked him into her mouth, pleased with how quickly he hardened inside her. Lovingly, she stroked him with her lips, eager to draw release out of him. While doing this, she stripped him from the waist down.

When she attempted to open his shirt, he grabbed her wrists.

“No,” he murmured.

Letting him slip from her mouth, she attended his cock with skilled fingers. “Sir. I have already seen your wounds. They are not ugly to me. Instead, they are a testament to what you would do to win me back by your side.”

When she attempted a second time, he reluctantly allowed her to strip him but threw his mechanical arm over the couch back, trying to get as far from it as possible. Seeing this, she shifted position, coming up into his lap still facing him. She ground against him, rotating her hips in slow exotic circles, letting him feel how wet she was but not allowing him to penetrate her.

He groaned in agony at the exquisite torture. K’rra leaned forward, pressing her heavy breasts to his scarred chest. She found the release on his bionic arm with one hand and separated it from him before he could protest. He tried to stop her, but too late. He stabbed the stump at her.

K’rra leaned down, cupping it firmly, refusing to let him take it away. She planted a series of kisses across it, making sure to lick wetly at the bare connectors. She knew the sensory ring would have trouble interpreting the sensations and would flood his nerves with unreal caresses.

He shuddered, trying to make sense of the signals. As he quivered, K’rra shifted her hips and impaled herself on him. He filled her, and it was her turn to shudder. With tiny squeaks, she pushed herself down, taking him all. Rocking against him, she fucked him sensuously. When he twitched, she focused on him inside her, maneuvering herself as she listened to his groans. His body told her everything she needed, where it felt best for him, how to stroke him with herself. She gave herself to him, massaging him to a screaming climax.

As he came she buried her face in his neck and clutched at him, wanting to feel every centimeter of him inside and against her body. His thrusts slowed, and she tightened her grip on him. Using the additional muscles, she stroked him in ways few men would ever experience.

“Stop.” He cried, “It's too sensitive.”

It wasn’t a very slave-like thing to do, but she ignored him. Gripping him and massaging him while he feebly protested until he was hard again. She took wicked pleasure in knowing that no natural woman could tie his cock in pretzels as she could.

“You disobeyed,” he breathed as she slid wetly up and down him.

“You’ll have to punish me,” she forced out between gasps.

He rolled and shoved her down to the couch, pinning her there with one hand. Then, he climbed behind her.

“Yes, Sir.” She begged. “Punish your slave girl.”

Kaster grabbed a fistful of hair and bore into her, pounding her with a fury few of Hol Vydon’s guests ever achieved. Her cries and gasps filled the ship.

“I want to feel you,” he grunted in her ear. “I want to feel you cum on me. Squeeze me. Drain my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir,” she wailed.

“Cum! Right now!” he demanded.

She screamed in ecstasy as the universe returned to its rightful place.

First:

Rogue Fury – Part 1