Slave World (15 page)

Chapter Five

It was only six pitifully short hours later that the lights came on and my door opened. A chime rang somewhere in the recess of my consciousness. According to the guard last night, I only had fifteen minutes to get cleaned up and report to the dining room for breakfast. After that, our assignments, if any, would be handed out. Other than that I had no idea what to expect. Surprisingly, I found the whole concept comforting and familiar; Burke ran the stables with the same Fleet discipline and efficiency I remembered from long ago.

I had no lack of company while I ate this time. The Master did have a lot of ponies; at least forty of them filled the dining room this morning, and after Cirus’ confrontation last night, it was everyone else’s turn to take a crack at me. Most of them asked the exact same question he had. How was I able to carry the Overseer so effortlessly, for so long?
Duh…
It was like none of them had any idea that people could be cybernetically augmented as well as cosmetically.

I was quickly getting the impression that most of the other ponies had either lived on planet for most of their lives or were born here. I don’t know, maybe it was the simplicity of their mannerisms and their total lack of knowledge in regards to the outside world; they reminded me of a bunch of kids that had been home schooled, secluded from mainstream society their whole lives. I managed to steer the questions away, not wanting to divulge the reason behind my hidden abilities just yet. I always believed in keeping a trump card hidden, if possible.

They asked me a lot of other questions too, which I answered vaguely or with half-truths. I mainly just wanted to eat in peace, feeling self-conscious about being the center of so much uncommon attention.

“Where are you from?”

“How were you captured?”

“Do you like it here; it’s very pretty, isn’t it?”
What! Did I like it here? Hello, I’m a slave, remember?

“You’re to be the Mistress’s new mare; you’re so lucky.”

“Do you like the Overseer? He’s a hard and demanding man, but treats us well.” That one I intentionally left unanswered, and prayed none of them noticed the flare of heat in my snow-white cheeks.

One of the guards
finally
broke up the swarm of buzzing questions that hovered around me like mayflies. It was then that I saw Cirus and his team, as he called them. They were sitting together across the room, brooding, watching me with borderline anger. That was fine with me, let them pout all they want, shit happens.

After things settled down a little, I found the show ponies rather pleasant to talk with, being very well mannered and polite. There were three of them seated around the table with me in a small cliché of cosmetic flawlessness. The difference between them and the hulking brutes that made up the chariot teams was like night and day. If I didn’t know that they’d all undergone the same body modification as I had, I would have sworn that I sat among a group of beauty pageant contestants. Of course normal people didn’t have horse ears or a tail.

Crystal sat to my left. She was a small little thing, white skinned and blond like myself. She was only 5’0” or so and
very
petite. In contrast, her breasts were large and definitely fake like mine, with the same hard, round look that defied nature. Come to think of it, we all looked like a group of big-breasted peas in a pod. The delicate caress of Crystal’s slim fingers touched my forearm, and she leaned closer, whispering in my ear.

“Cirus doesn’t seem to like you, 18.” Her voice was as soft and light as a gossamer butterfly dancing on my skin. “You need to be careful around him. He can be…mean at times.” She looked nervous and slightly fearful even saying his name. “He’s the Mistress’ prize stallion and sometimes is allowed to come and…and breed with us, even on days outside of the scheduled times. He holds the Mistress’ favor and is rewarded for it.”

I looked back slightly surprised. “What about the guards?”

“They’re the ones that let him in. The Mistress must allow it for some reason. Normally no one other than the Master may breed us outside of normally scheduled days.”

“Does the Master do that very often?”

“Sometimes, at least with the show ponies. You’re pretty 18; soon he’ll call on you as well, even though you’re to be a riding mare.”

Big surprise there, I
was
his new piece of meat. My thoughts of impending, and surprisingly unwanted sex, were interrupted by another soft chime. All the ponies came to their feet facing the door, and I followed suit just as Burke and another guard stepped into the dining room. He looked robustly desirable this morning, in his tailored khaki’s that hugged all the right places. He held a crop in one hand, and a pocket computer in the other.

“Good morning, ponies.”

“Good morning, Sir,” everyone but me replied. I was too busy drooling.

“Here are your duties for the day: teams 1 and 4 will report for training and conditioning. Team 3 will immediately proceed to the fitter after you’re dismissed and then to Mr. Ellis for hook up. The Master wishes to take a morning ride. Team 2 is on call and will stand by for fitting immediately after Team 3.”

Burke looked around, silently surveying the room. It was hard to tell because he had those damn sunglasses on again, but I think his gaze lingered on me in particular for a few moments.

“Crystal and Natasha, you will report to Miss Slowcomn for costume dress and makeup. The Mistress is taking you into Port City for a show at 1030. It’s her birthday in a few days and she’s expecting you to win, so don’t disappoint her. Pony 18 will report to me outside in the courtyard for training after gearing up. You have last priority.

“The rest of you may stand down for now. Enjoy it while you can; the Mistress’ big party is coming up, and I expect a large number of guests will be attending, so that means entertainment. Her daughter will be back sometime today with her friends from school, and by order of the Master himself-” Burke paused, and I swore he was gritting his teeth in anger. “Cirus and pony 6 will be at their disposal until they leave. I’ll contact you later with information as it becomes available, dismissed!”

The ponies began to clear out of the room, prompted by haste that only a period of lifelong servitude can bring about. I couldn’t help but smile; it was just like a Marine to conduct business like that.

I made my way to the fitter, waiting in line with a river of pent up, fidgeting energy. The clip clopping of booted hooves and the smell of warm leather quickly drowned my senses, making me more excited. I couldn’t wait to gear up and head outside for another day of training with Burke.

It still amazed me to think how easily I’d fallen in to the routine of slavery, letting my mind go, accepting it so willingly.
This isn’t so bad
I smiled inwardly.
Being a slave isn’t that bad at all: a nice room, plenty of good food, no worries,
and besides, being a pony is kind of fun.
So what if I have to be a sex toy for the Master on occasion, and by the sound of it, Cirus as well? I’ve been used by men my entire life, so why should things be any different now?
I just wish Nathan were my Master though. I’d be such a good pony for him if given the chance, always willing, obedient, and pliable to his every whim.
He could ride me whenever he liked, and in any way of his choosing. Just thinking about what it would be like…

I let loose with an uncontrollable whinny, deafening with its soft call of female desire. It faded into a whimsical giggle as I shook my head and tail in giddy delight. My throaty cry filled the corridor with silence, drawing the attention of the other ponies that waited in line with me, especially the stallions. My none too subtle, and accidental voicing for sex in a way I didn’t understand, that only another pony could decipher, made my cheeks burn with naughty shame. I grinned evilly;
I’m such a bad pony.

***

“All right, 18, up!” I rose to my feet with Burke’s weight pulling at my shoulders. “Down! Up! Try not to jerk so much. Think of yourself as a graceful swan. Try it again. Down! Keep your back straight, and come up in one continuous motion. Head straight, and chin up! Up!”

On and on I practiced as the day grew from warm, too hot, too just plain miserable. I was sweating bullets long before my legs started to ache and burn from continually squat-lifting Burke. That’s all right, I needed the exercise anyway. The servos only amplified my strength, but I could still get tired, and muscles still give out long before cybernetics ever would.

After several hours of weight training and prancing practice, I was allowed a much-needed break for lunch. When I was finished eating, Burke took me on a slow, galloping ride around the ranch. Even with the blinders restricting my view, I was simply awed from the magnificence of it. Multitudes of flowers seemed to grow in abundance everywhere, their sweet scent filling the warm breeze. It was like a rainbow had exploded, covering the entire area with colors.

Creatures that resembled small long tailed monkeys jabbered away among the trees, jumping from branch to branch. They began to follow along, matching my pace, as I strained my neck to look up at them. They were cute and made me feel…I don’t know, happy? It was weird; it was like I could almost understand their high-pitched squeals and hollowing. They liked me. I wanted to run and play with them, and I had no idea why.

Burke signaled me to slow my pace to an easy canter. We were on the outer fringes of the ranch now on what looked to be a seldom-used dirt path, very much alone and away from the prying eyes of the sensor pods that seemed to be in abundance everywhere. Burke rode in silence for some time, while my breathing slowed under the merciful shade of a thick tropical canopy.

“I didn’t recognize you at first, Margo; you’d changed a lot over the years. After you said you were with the 340
^th
and how many drops you made on Target, I had my suspicions. I needed to check your service record to be sure. I wasn’t snooping,” he added quickly, “but I do like to know as much about my…ah, ponies as possible. Did you know,” he chuckled lightly, “that you and Mamma bear became unofficial heroes among the 501st after Target? A lot of us tried getting in contact with you, to thank you for getting us out of that industrial complex when no one else could. For obvious reasons at the time, we couldn’t.”

Burke paused, and my mind changed gears. I remembered exactly what the reason was he was referring to. A lot of Marines had gone looking for pilots after the mission. I wasn’t stupid, and had seen the writing on the wall, staying locked in my quarters until things settled down.

Somehow a group of vengeful Marines had managed to get into our section of the ship, and in the state of mind they were in, I don’t think they would have taken the time to stop and differentiate between those that had left them to die, and those that hadn’t. There had been several pilots killed, and at least ten sent to the infirmary from my squadron alone, before the ship was locked down and the security police restored order. I couldn’t blame them; a lot of Marines had been left to die because of us.

Now Commander Patricia Knolke was someone that I hadn’t thought of in a
long
time. She was someone that I didn’t want to remember either. “Mamma Bear” as she went by was a grade-A bitch, but also the best damn pilot in the squadron. That woman had a set of brass balls ten pounds apiece, when it came to combat retrievals and ground support missions.

Trish and I had a nasty run several days after the Target mission: one too many drinks trying to unwind at the officer’s club, two horny strung out pilots in need of solace, followed by a misunderstanding and a few confused signals, and she was all over me. The rebuff followed shortly thereafter, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She followed me back to my quarters after leaving the club; she knew my reputation. She called me a dirty little tease; she said that I wanted it. Maybe I did lead her on, but I was too drunk to remember.

I fought back and my flight suit ripped open. She knew how to overpower me quite easily. I had the feeling this wasn’t the first time she’d done this sort of thing. Drunk groping hands and lips assaulted me, forcing me to the deck. She was going to teach me what happened to sluts that liked to play teasing games. Help arrived shortly thereafter; thankfully someone had heard my screams before she taped my mouth shut. It wasn’t long after that, that I was transferred.

“We met on that mission, did you know that, Margo?”

“Humph?” I mumbled, momentarily lost in time.

“I said we’ve met before, well a few times actually, but I was on your boat when you picked up the remainder of the 501
^st
. I was the regimental executive officer, first in last out.” My mind raced trying to recall that horrific day in detail, and where I faintly remembered Burke from, as much as I didn’t want to now.

I came in just above the level of buildings, so fast that the thunderous booming of breaking the sound barrier at low altitude overshadowed the nearby explosions buffeting my assault boat. The constant hammering of my point defense and automated weapons systems was as constant as every labored breath I took. My flight suit and helmet were drenched; they had been all day. I’d been living in a constant state of fear and adrenaline filled insanity for almost twenty hours now. The more pilots that died, the more missions the rest of us had to fly. Most refused to fly any longer, being court martialed was better than being dead. This one was a suicide mission anyway; they all said so.

I saw the 501
^st’s
retrieval beacon on my tactical display, surrounded by advancing Seth armor. Shit…I’m going to die. I sent an automated response back down the line to their commander, ‘retrieval in two minutes, stand by’.

I went from supersonic to hovering in less than ten seconds. The crash harness bit ruthlessly into my already bruised chest and shoulders, and I started opening the clamshell-like port and starboard bay troop-doors before I even touched down. The wash of sound, heat and the smell of smoke instantly filled the cockpit. I actually took the time to land, instead of hovering. It was a dangerous thing to do in a situation like this, but it made it easier for them to load up. The area could have been mined for all I knew, just like it had been for Twister. There wasn’t enough left of him, or his boat, to send home to his wife and three-year-old daughter in a handbag.

The Marines scrambled out of the rubble running towards me, firing at the approaching Seth combat drones and land ships that seemed much more numerous than they should have been. There were only a handful of Marines left, fifteen or twenty at most, with one massive ‘Gorilla’ armored exo-suit covering their move with blazing guns.

That’s it? This was the Headquarters Company? They’d dropped with a combat strength of one hundred and twenty two men and women two days ago. Many of them were helping wounded comrades while others tried to carry the dead on their shoulders. The Marines didn’t believe in leaving anyone behind, if possible. They all knew what the Seth did to humans, whether they were alive or not.

Two of our strike fighters crashed overhead, rocking my boat with their jet wash. They made a low-altitude pass, hitting the Seth with small yield cobalt-nukes, followed by a stick of earth shattering thermoberic explosives. Everything within the three-mile wide and eight-mile deep swath of the strike zone vanished in the blink of an eye. It bought us some time, but at the expense of the fighters being blotted out of the sky in a pair of tremendous, fire ball explosions. We were losing this one badly.

The Marines loaded in a hail of cursing screams, intermingled with frantic commands. A muted beep told me the bulky, weapons laden, ten-foot tall Gorilla was secured in one of the magnetic harnesses to the side of the hull. Brave son of a bitch… he was going to ride shotgun for me. I began to lift off, feeling a slap on my shoulder. It was an officer pointing to his helmet, his face concealed by a dark visor. I switched over to their internal push.

“Keep the doors open, we’ll provide covering fire until you get clear!”

I nodded, goosing my lift thrusters. The heavy thumping of an auto rocket launcher and man-pak particle cannon drifted up from behind me. In time, the deafening roar of automatic weapons joined them. It was nearly a perfect retrieval from a hot LZ, but sometimes nearly wasn’t quite good enough.

As I came above the height of the buildings, about to engage my main thrusters, a proximity-detonated missile rocked my boat, showering it with shrapnel. My shields weren’t up yet. I fought to maintain control, starting to drift into the skeleton of war ravaged buildings. Heat and fire washed upwards from the troop compartment, the shockwave thick with the distinctive smell of misted crimson. An unidentifiable piece of body armor clattered to a stop beside my seat, still containing the remains of something that had once been human. Then the agonizing screams started that my heavily padded helmet couldn’t entirely block out. Every so often I still heard them lingering in my dreams.

I throttled up going sonic, making for the strike carrier Intrepid fighting for its life in near orbit. The air and space battle raged around me, while the troop doors slowly closed blocking out the hazy purple light of Target. I jinked and rolled as best I could to avoid the hellish array of incoming fire while a string of decoys and homing spoofers began playing out like Christmas lights in my wake. I prayed that the heavy shielding of my boat and the electronic counter measure suit would get me out of this cluster fuck in one piece, again.

“Thanks, ace,” the same Marine as before was standing behind my seat, gripping the bulkhead with a hand to steady himself. His body armor flexed and heaved, panting hard as he looked down at me. I nodded quickly going back to my controls, and he patted me on the shoulder with one of his armor-clad hands. The name ‘Burke’ was stenciled on the breastplate of his torso armor. “I owe you one, Venom, anytime, anywhere.”