Pussy Pirates
Chapter 19
Month 126—June at Morongo, CA
AS SOON AS there was no movement in the grounds, the Pirates moved in to toss the bodies onto the raging infernos of the house and bunkhouses. A crew picked up the unconscious guards and zip-tied them to make sure they weren’t a problem if they woke up. They dragged the men outside and tossed them into a transporter nexus. The unconscious men arrived on Anouilh and were picked up to be tossed into another nexus. No one went straight from California to the Confederacy.
When the women were released from their cages, they were conducted to a nexus in the barn so they wouldn’t see any of the carnage outside.
“You sliced through our locks with your knives and you’re putting us through a transporter. Are we Confederacy slaves now?” one asked. The line waiting to be transported stopped.
“No. We have some of their tech but you aren’t headed to the Confederacy. This is a rescue mission, not a slave roundup.”
“But you’re all so beautiful. You must be from the Confederacy.”
“No, honey. We’re just from California.” A few of the women were able to laugh. Most were sullen and looked like they’d been beaten. Maybe worse.
“Ladies, we’re not taking you to be enslaved. We’re taking you to a safe place where you’ll have a chance to heal and recover. We’ll get you all cell phones so you can call home or to anyone you think will be concerned. When you’ve been fed and have a good night’s sleep in a real bed, we’ll talk to you about your options. Generally, they are to be extracted if you want to go to the Confederacy, to return home if you think it’s safe, or to stay with us in our refuge. We’ll also try to get you counseling and there will be no pressure to decide immediately. You’re safe now.”
With that the first woman stepped on the transporter and arrived at Papillon Base. When the women had stepped through, the commandos walked through the barns making sure everyone was out. Risqué stopped at a cage when what looked like a pile of discarded clothing or rags moved.
“Hey, are you okay there?” She entered the cage and knelt by the sniffling figure huddled there. Her partner stood near just in case there was a problem. Moving the clothing aside, she found an emaciated figure. She shuddered when Risqué reached out to her. “Come on, honey. You’re safe now. Can you stand up?”
“Mommy?”
“I don’t know who your Mommy is.”
“She said hide in the rags and wait. Where’s Mommy?”
“I’m not sure. How long ago was that?”
“A long time.”
“Let’s get you with the others and see if we can find her. Everyone else has gone to our safe place.”
“Wait?”
“Not here, honey. You can wait at the safe place.”
The girl tried to stand but was too weak. Risqué picked her up and carried her through the nexus.
The remaining commandos policed the area to be sure there was nothing left. They cleared all the cages of anything that was left, including piles of shit and urine. All went onto the large fires.
“Emergency vehicles are turning off the main highway,” Ubie said to Molly.
“Time to clear out!” Molly called to her troops. “Hit the ridge and get out of here.” The remaining troops took off at double time and were transported one after the other from their original nexus. All the others had been gathered. A drone swooped down and collected the nexus and moved to its pickup location a hundred fifty miles away in Arizona.
Month 126—June on Papillon
“COME RIGHT THIS WAY; we’ll help you.” Over a hundred women greeted the refugees when they stepped off the transporter nexus at the old army base. Some were Pussy Pirates and some were simply local women who answered the call to help. Food was prepared and served at a buffet where the rescued women filled plates as soon as they’d had a chance to wash their hands and faces. Baths would come when they had a little more strength.
Most of the women were dazed, still not comprehending what had been done to them. They’d been snatched out of their normal everyday lives in front of their homes, in grocery store parking lots, and parking garages. Some had children with them and some had left children behind.
And one was a child left behind by her mother when the woman was loaded into a container truck and taken away.
Risqué Reader hadn’t put the little girl down. She was the only one of the commandos who showed up at the old army base. The others had returned to Anouilh after the action, believing it was better for them not to be seen or questioned by the freed women. After she had managed to get the little girl to swallow a few bites of thick seafood stew, she walked among the rescued women asking if anyone knew the little girl.
“She was hiding in the discarded clothing when I was brought in, two or three days ago. I heard someone say to put us in the cages they’d just emptied. That’s all I know. I gave her some water, but we didn’t get food.” The woman turned away and took her place in line for showers.
Since coming to the island, all the little girl had said was “Mommy” as she buried her head against Risqué’s chest. When Risqué tried to set the girl down, she clung to the commando and wouldn’t let go. Eventually, Risqué went to the transporter and returned to Anouilh, still holding the girl.
“She’s Afternoon Delight’s daughter,” Cali said firmly. “She’s the one I was supposed to pick up when they snatched her. According to what Delight told me, her name is Angie and she’s thirteen.” Cali started crying as Dakota held her. “That means we missed her. We didn’t get there in time to rescue her mother.”
I sat in my office listening to Dakota’s distraught wife. It had been two days since the raid and everything was a jumble. Over a hundred of the women had expressed a desire to be extracted by the confederacy. A dozen of the women wanted to be returned to their homes, husbands, or children. I was surprised it wasn’t more, but the others who had dependents went to the Confederacy with the promise that their children would be extracted. That left us with 170 who had made no commitment. At least twenty were near catatonia. We were constructing a nursing home in the island’s main town and had put out a notice that we were looking for trained therapists and medical professionals to come to the islands. We were getting responses.
We’d given every woman who wasn’t extracted by the Confederacy an opportunity to call friends or loved ones to let them know they were safe. But we’d been careful not to tell them where they were.
Dakota and Cali left my office and I prepared for my conversation with the unnamed person on the moon who worked for a department that didn’t exist.
“Hello. Your commandos did a good job. A little heavy-handed for our taste, but they managed a full recovery. With an explosion that big and the evidence that remained, an investigation has been launched by the California Republic. We believe there were some high-profile people in the houses you bombed. It seems there are some people missing from local law enforcement and even two state assemblymen. I hate to say it, but I’m afraid you’ll get some backlash.”
“Let them come. Did you have any luck tracking the last shipment from the ranch?”
“Yes. Most were taken to a shipping port near San Diego and put aboard a container barge. Our AIs are tracking the barge and we’re planning a quick extraction.”
“Please watch for a woman who goes by the name Afternoon Delight. We have her daughter with us. The daughter is thirteen and barely responsive to one person. Our med tube analysis is that she was raped as well.”
“We’ll try to get a match.”
“How are the women you extracted from our base?”
“Most are doing well. We’ve kept them isolated from the meat markets and nearly a dozen have tested as sponsors. A handful have requested that we return them to Earth. We will. Unfortunately, we can’t expect them to survive there. I’d class them as homicidal/suicidal. They each have at least one target they know was involved in the scheme. We also have six who have requested to be given to the Pussy Pirates. No one has been told of your involvement, but the women have said they were already hoping to join you before they were kidnapped. They got confused in the aftermath and didn’t think you’d be an option. Will you take them?”
“Yes. Please keep us informed of the status of the women on the ship. We’ll offer sanctuary to them as well.”
“Of course. That’s all I have for you. Please let me know if you plan other rescues.”
“Affirmative.”
Ubie disconnected the call. It was time that I went to visit Papillon Base.
Of course, I didn’t go alone. We hadn’t allowed any men to have contact with the rescues since they arrived. Dakota went with me and we agreed she would be the major spokesperson. Things were different than we expected when we arrived at the base.
“Boss,” the elder greeted me at the base entrance, “we have 147 women who wish to remain here. Of them, twenty-three have asked specifically to join the raiders who rescued them. They have already organized themselves and are exercising vigorously. We have not yet exposed where they are or who rescued them.”
“Well, that will change in a few minutes,” Dakota said. “I’d like to meet this new squad before we greet the rest of the women.” The elder nodded and led us to the parade ground on the base.
“Susan, you wanted to talk to the leaders,” the elder said. “This is the Captain and the Boss.” A blonde hardbody stepped away from the group with the elder and then snapped around to the rest of the women.
“Squad, attention!” she snapped. I wouldn’t say they acted with military precision, but they got in some semblance of rank and file. She turned to us and saluted, a little disconcerted when we didn’t return the salute.
“We’re not really a military organization,” Dakota said. “The closest thing we have to ranks is that I’m Captain and this is the Boss.”
“Sergeant Susan Rand, USMC Retired, sir. Or ma’am.”
“Susan, why didn’t you request extraction with the Confederacy? I’m betting you have a qualifying CAP score.”
“Yes, ma’am. But our duty is here.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Ten of us were training on a deserted beach early on the morning of June 24. We’ve been concerned about the number of disappearances in our communities. We had no idea we’d be among them. A dozen men attacked us with tranq guns. It was pretty powerful stuff. I’m not sure how long we were out when we woke up in a cage. No one there knew what day it was. We have since discovered we were there three days when your commandos showed up. We had no food and little water in that time. Thank you for providing for us.”
“And why do you want to join us?”
“Your commandos had Confederacy tech and acted with calm efficiency. It was obvious the guards inside were stunned just before you showed up. The commandos were well trained. We want to rescue more women from Earth First scum. And we want to be ready to protect them when the aliens come.”
“Uh… fighting Earth First isn’t really in our game plan,” I ventured. “This was just something we couldn’t avoid. Captain? Are you sure you want to engage in this?”
“Did you see Angie today? She’s still clinging to Risqué. Her mother is either dead or on a container ship to God knows where. The Pirates need action. We’ve been training for three years.”
“Pirates? You’re the Pussy Pirates?” Susan asked.
“That’s right. Welcome to our islands,” I said. “I think we should get Miss Molly to interview the recruits, don’t you, Captain?”
“That seems like a good plan. Hang in there, Susan. I think you’re just what we need.”
Some of the remaining women wanted to join the Pussy Pirates, but not Sergeant Rand’s team. We discovered these women already knew about us and had our number, ready to dial when they were kidnapped. They were camgirls and porn stars and were ready for what we offered. The others who were coherent asked to stay as support staff, especially if they could help other rescued women.
We took them all.
That meant a trip through med tubes to purge Confederacy tech and inject our own health and strength nanites. We also received the six transfers from the Confederacy extraction. They immediately volunteered for the Pussy Pirate Raiders. A week later, we received word that Confederacy Marines had rescued fifty-eight women from the container ship. Afternoon Delight was not among the living but they were still identifying the dead bodies. We received thirty-one new volunteers who requested to be transferred to our island. It wasn’t the last raid we’d be involved with.
Month 128—August on Anouilh
“THE DELEGATION from California Republic has arrived,” Ubie said. Dakota, Tatts, Molly, and I rose and went to meet them at the entrance to the resort. It had been over a month since our raid. I wondered what took them so long.
The delegation, to my surprise, consisted of three men and two women. It was one of the women who spoke.
“Mr. Frisco, Governor Taylor of the California Republic has commissioned this delegation to deliver to you, as representative of the Independent Island State of Anouilh, this order to cease and desist. You are banned from entering the sovereign lands of California. You will not make pickups there. Further, the personal and real property in California belonging to Dakota Wind and Theodore Frisco has been confiscated by the State and will be disposed of to help compensate the families of men and women killed in your Mohave action on June 27. Violation of this decree will be seen as an act of war and dealt with accordingly.”
“I see,” I said. “Normally we invite our guests in for a drink and introductions before we discuss business. Please join us on the pool deck. The delegates looked nervously at each other but followed me through the resort lobby and out to the pool deck. The entire pool system had been enlarged over the years and was now a series of pools connected by channels and land bridges. Everything was low profile, though, so people at the pool could still see the deep blue sea. I seated us at my standard meeting table, which had also been enlarged and had a supersized umbrella over it for shade. A server arrived at the table and poured champagne for all of us.
“To your health,” Dakota said as she raised her glass. Molly, Tatts, and I joined the salute and the delegates reluctantly raised their glasses.
“You have correctly assumed I am the Boss of the Independent Island State of Anouilh. On my right is the Captain. Next to her is Miss Molly. On my left is Tatts. Those are the only names we go by here on Anouilh. May I ask the names of the honorable delegation from California Republic?” I asked. We’d already determined that no matter what their requests, we were going to treat the Californians as foreign dignitaries with as much politeness as we could.
“I am Lois Lamar,” the woman who originally spoke to us said. “I am the chief delegate and spokesman for the Governor. My staff includes Martin Petitt, George Shaw, Richard Curtain, and Katherine Redbern. Thank you for your welcome.” At that point twenty-seven new pilot trainees finished their day’s training and walked onto the pool deck in all their naked glory. The double takes among the delegates were hilarious to watch. I stifled my grin.
“As you are no doubt aware, a substantial portion of the porn industry has relocated from California to Anouilh. I’m afraid we have little use for studs among these women, most of whom are quite happy to be on an island with minimal male energy,” Dakota said. “The men on the island are all engaged in computer programming and game development. That’s what we do here. Our major exports are a popular game called Pussy Pirates, in which these women play starring roles. Our other export is sex. The bulk of that is virtual, but we do have a regular influx of tourists who provide as entertaining a performance as any of the studs in California. We are in the process of creating a new spin-off from the game and hoped to enter into an agreement with California Republic for its development.”
“You attack our California citizens and expect us to strike a trade deal with you?” Richard exclaimed. I took him for the ultra-right member of the delegation—possibly even with ties to Earth First. His eyes never stopped roaming over the various displays around the pool as if he was taking an inventory of goods he could steal.
“Why would we attack citizens of California Republic?” I asked. “Nearly everyone here on Anouilh came from California.”
“Are you denying your participation in the attack in the Mohave on June 27?” Martin asked. I had him pegged as the representative of the Assembly and Senate. He was a legal type if I ever saw one, sweating in his three-piece suit.
“No,” Miss Molly said. “We are denying that we attacked citizens of California. While there were unfortunately some residents of the Republic at the ranch when we liberated it, most of those there were from other areas surrounding California engaged in illegal human trafficking, which California ruled in its constitution was grounds for prosecution and penalties up to and including termination of citizenship.”
“And what evidence to you have that there was human trafficking going on?” Martin continued.
“Three hundred women liberated from cages in the barns at the ranch. Another fifty-eight rescued from a container ship in international waters, and seventeen bodies of women who died in their custody,” Molly growled. “And one teen girl who’d been raped and lost her mother to the traffickers.”
“There was no sign of captives having been at the ranch,” Lois said. “Our information says the ranch had been abandoned since ICE left our territory and the immigration prisoners were released.”
“Your information is faulty,” I said. “There would have been no reason to stage our raid if it was just a gathering of jerks.”
“And all—350?—of these women are here?”
“No. Many chose to emigrate to the Confederacy when we gave them the choice of going, staying here, or going back home. But we have more than 200 who chose to stay with us.”
We treated the delegation to an island style dinner as guests of honor and gave them rooms for the night. They toured the resort and talked to several women who had been rescued or participated in the raid. They also met and talked to Angie—or tried to. She had moved far enough along in the past month to simply be holding Risqué’s hand but was still pretty much silent. I knew the negotiations were not yet ended. Someone was going to ask me about the production agreement I wanted.
That someone showed up at my door about two in the morning in the form of Katherine Redbern. The woman was younger than her counterparts but I detected she was no less savvy. She was a petite and typically California blonde. She had impressive breasts that were on display when she knocked at my door.
“Katherine, please come in,” I said. “My suite has the office at the door so people don’t trample through my entire apartment when they want to see me. However, I often entertain visitors in the next room. Tell me, is this an office visit or personal?”
“Yes,” she said. “If you are inviting me into your personal space, there is nothing in my business that requires a desk and computer.” She followed me into my sitting room.
“I see you’ve adopted island dress,” I said. “It suits you well.”
“Thank you. When in Rome and all that. You have a rather modest apartment for the leader of a nation.”
“Our nation has just a little over 7,000 citizens now. Being leader gets me an office in addition to my sitting room and bedroom. May I fix you a drink?” I asked.
“It’s unnecessary. I don’t need to be seduced.” She moved to sit next to me on my sofa.
“Let’s finish business so we needn’t interfere with pleasure,” I suggested.
“What is Pussy Pirate Raiders and what kind of production arrangement in California do you want?” she asked bluntly. I figured that was what she wanted. The subject hadn’t come up since I introduced it at our first meeting.
“Katherine, our games are distinguished with live action footage. While we produce a lot of sexy scenes to get people involved, our Pirates are being diligently trained to respond to actual Swarm incursions on Earth and in our solar system. Here on Earth, the greatest threat to our ability to respond to the Swarm comes from Earth First. Pussy Pirate Raiders is based around the scenario of combating Earth First, especially in situations where they have kidnapped women for their private harems. We would like permission to film live action scenes of the Pussy Pirate Raiders engaged in rescuing women from their Earth First captors. As California is vulnerable to EF raids into its sovereign lands, it makes perfect sense to take advantage of them for our game.”
“Essentially negating all the terms of our cease and desist order,” Katherine laughed. “I’m thinking the order could be modified with the phrase, ‘…except in the instance of filming the rescue of kidnap victims or upon request of individuals unable to leave their homes.’ Will that suffice? I’m afraid I can’t restore your property. I hope you have other ingress and egress routes.”
“I think the phrase would cover what we want. I’m not concerned about my property in California. Although we’ve self-destructed any tech we had on the premises. It’s just two empty houses and a car. You’ve looked around the resort. I own this. Why would I care about a tract home in California? But will the agreement be adequate with Governor Taylor?”
“The governor and I worked out the details before we left and our intent is to substitute this for the original cease and desist. We have found a growing number of far right activists have been moving up in our government and like the UK and Australia, there is little we can do about them. As far as the Assembly is concerned, our delegation successfully delivered the cease and desist order and your property has been confiscated.” She turned to face me, brushing her bare tits against my arm. “Now can we switch from business to personal?” she asked.
“Gladly.”
Sex with Katherine was different than what I was used to. It was probably just an illusion to me, but she was not a woman who was accustomed to stripping and performing for a living. Her activity was lively and exuberant. I quickly discovered that not only had she come to my room topless, but also, she was wearing nothing but her wrap skirt. As soon as it was gone, she was naked and I joined her as fast as I could. I scooped her up and moved to my bedroom where KC sleepily yawned and moved over.
“Oh good. You brought a plaything,” KC said. Katherine was thrown for only an instant before she swung a leg over me and impaled herself while reaching for KC to kiss her.
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