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h2. Up The Channel

[section=Story]

The Aegis moved through the silent, black waters of the Lucent Channel, engines and lights at low power as not to attract attention. Some of the crew walked around on deck, tense but full of cautious optimism as they’d made the first ten miles without any trouble, or indeed any enemy sightings at all.

Nitocris and Arsinoe, the hired guards, patrolled together along the main deck and gazed out on the calm water. It was quiet, with the stealthy engines making almost no audible noise even here on the ship. And dim lights barely shone through the tinted windows of the bridge, which were so low as to not even be visible from the distant shoreline.

Neither of them was particularly on guard, despite the stakes. This was their ninth trip up the channel, and this was so far away from the main fighting that the military patrol boats scarcely came up this back way. And when they did, a quick check of the fake paperwork would see them on their way within minutes.

And it was a pleasant evening; crickets and frogs chirped and croaked happily off in the distance, fireflies twinkled along the banks, and the smell of fresh cooked rubbed chicken wafted from the kitchen below decks, lingering in the warm air. It was enough to set anyone at ease, and the twin jackal guards were no exception, even with the combat-related stimulants they’d been subjected to take.

On the bridge, two of the remaining three crew stood by a map table, discussing the best plan to take once their cargo was dropped off in a couple of days. Nefertiti, a jackal like the hired hands, but much their elder, was standing with her hands on her hips and looking sternly at Anastasia, who was gazing back unintimidated.

“We must leave these waters before the police or military catches onto us,” Nefertiti said. “We cannot hope to continue picking up contracts like this if they start to catch onto us.”

“You are being too direct,” Anastasia rebutted. “They’re more likely to catch on if we always make the same patterns, than if we deviate at random sometimes. We aren’t a merchant ship, remember. This is a yacht. For pleasure. You know what pleasure is, don’t you?”

The older woman scowled at the young snow leopard. “Watch your tongue. You and Klaus may carry out these assignments, but I command the mission. What I say will go.”

Anastasia opened her mouth to respond, a frustrated remark on her lips, but the door to the bridge opened forcefully. Both women turned to look, only mildly surprised to find Klaus there, in his uniform and looking smug about something.

“Dinner’s ready,” he announced, not bothering to keep his voice down despite the door being open to the outside. “Come on, ladies, get it while it’s hot!”

“Must you be so loud all the time?” Anastasia demanded, unamused by his flamboyant display.

“Now, now,” Nefertiti said, standing taller and seeming to intentionally lord her height over the snow leopard. Her expression brightened the moment Klaus had appeared, and she was already walking toward him. “Be nice.” She ruffled the cap atop the shark boy’s head affectionately before putting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him back out. Before closing the door, she called back to Anastasia. “Come along.”

Heading out into the night, Nefertiti walked along with the short shark, listening to him talk about his newfound success with this spiced chicken recipe. They proceeded below decks, though not before passing by the twins as they continued to casually pace the deck.

“Come down in a while and eat,” she said to them. “I suppose you’ve earned a break tonight.”

They both nodded graciously but said nothing as the two passed by on their way down, followed at some distance by a stony-faced Anastasia, and they deliberately avoided her gaze; she seemed to be annoyed by something, and that was never a good thing. Her skirt swirled in the very gentle breeze as she passed them and headed below.

Nitocris turned to her sister once they were alone again.

“Watch out,” she said playfully, nudging Arsinoe. “She’s on the warpath…”

Her sister opened her mouth to reply, cheeky in kind, but then she was distracted by something. She was perked up now, looking toward the port bow of the yacht, peering out into the darkness. And when Nitocris followed her gaze, her heart leapt into her throat; there were lights on the water. Not only that, but they were heading right for them.

But then the lights disappeared, and while both of them strained to hear, no sound could be heard over those of the gentle night. But then, a slight thud, up near the front of the ship. They looked at one another, cautious but not quite on alert. Nitocris took a step forward as another tiny thump was heard, growing more concerned.

It might’ve been a boat, she knew, but she’d heard no motor. Her sister was thinking the same thing, and they traded a glance before drawing their sidearms, just to be safe. Then taking cautious steps forward, they crept toward the source of the noise.

Then all at once, several things happened. A bright light shone in both of their faces, causing them to react in unison; Nitocris raised her free hand to shield her eyes, and Arsinoe ducked her head slightly to escape the sudden and blinding light. As they struggled to both adjust to the new light and understand its source, a sharp CRACK split the night.

Nitocris flinched as she felt something whiz by close to her left ear. Arsinoe didn’t react at all, because she was busily occupied by the bullet that had just put a hole between her eyes. As blood and brain splattered out of the back of her head, she crumpled almost instantly to the ground, alive but instantly unconscious.

Her startled sister jumped to the side, recognizing the gunshot after a second, and looked down in horror at the fallen form of her twin. In the newfound light, the girl’s eyes could be seen to be open, mismatched and staring at her in total noncomprehension. Her skull was split open in the back, with bone hanging loosely as her head lay at an awkward angle. Her entire brain was oozing out of her gaping wound, and despite her stimulants, Nitocris could only stare in utter shock, and was interrupted from her dumbstricken state by a new light being shone directly in her face.

It was a flashlight, she now recognized, carried by a tiger clad in black body armor and helmet, carrying a matching assault rifle with attached light.

“Hands up!” he cried, loud but not so much as to be heard by the others elsewhere on the Aegis. Faced with the barrel of the rifle in her face, she slowly raised her hands, wide-eyed. What had just happened?!

“Drop the weapon!” he said. Now that her eyes were slightly adjusted, several more men dressed like her sister’s killer were seen standing all around, one of whom was in fact taking the pistol from Arsinoe’s dead, limp hand while the pool of blood and brains had expanded to a diameter of a few feet.

Nitocris didn’t comply with the command right away, but that didn’t matter; he reached forward and snatched her sidearm from her not-at-all secure grip. Then, one of his comrades grabbed her arm and twisted it horribly behind her, forcing her body to follow in an awkward turn, and nearly dislocating her shoulder in the process. He forced her to the floor, before seizing her other arm, and binding her wrists with a thick ziptie.

And though she couldn’t see it from her new position, smushed down on her front with a man’s knee in her back, other members of the twenty-five-strong police strike team were scouring the entire ship, moving room to room, first clearing and securing the bridge before moving on to the lower decks.

As her captors attempted to grill her mute form over where the others were, the team headed down and, noticing the smell from the kitchen, burst in on the other three while they ate the spiced chicken, suspecting nothing of the bloodshed that had just taken place up above. As the police rushed in, unannounced, they discovered Nefertiti in the process of doting over Klaus and demanding that he eat more, while he gave her playful lip, and Anastasia sat across from them in the galley with her arms crossed and a sour expression on her face.

This scene was frozen as the men abruptly intruded, and in an instant their faces all changed to pure shock. Before any of them could properly react, they each had an assault rifle pointed in their respective face, with a screaming tiger or lion demanding that they surrender. And like their poor stunned guard above, they were too surprised to do much of anything, except to offer half-hearted resistance as the men surrounded the table and manhandled the trio into submission.

“Take them up above to join the other,” one of the tigers said. “The rest of you, continue checking the other rooms. Look for hidden compartments.”

Zipties were applied to the wrists of the three as they were marched unceremoniously out of the galley and up the stairs to the main deck. Nefertiti was attempting to ascertain who the leader was, so that she could strike up some kind of bargain, or a bribe perhaps, using some of the riches stashed in the safe of her stateroom for just such a purpose.

Klaus, meanwhile, was busy being pushed along more harshly than the others; two of the guards were eyeing him with a kind of odd expression. It was like disgust, mingled with a hidden, mischievous sort of desire. And Klaus was unsure of what they wanted of him, though it was hard for him to think while his captors tossed his small, skinny body around.

Anastasia brought up the rear, and she was as deadly silent as she’d been before. Like Nefertiti, she was looking for an angle that she could use to her advantage. Unlike the older woman, she was considering how she might disarm and kill the lone man who was currently close to her. To that end, she was retrieving from beneath her skirt a very small knife, which she carefully unfolded, and slid between her wrists, blade facing the inside of the ziptie. She slowly began to saw, impassively as she internally hoped that she wouldn’t be seen.

They walked up to the main deck, where Nitocris had been dragged from where she was caught to a wall near a large hot tub. And she was deeply uncomfortable, for her dead sister had been propped up next to her, and her head was slumped on Nitocris’ shoulder. The jagged hole in the back of her head was obvious, and the three new prisoners looked upon her with varying levels of horror and disgust.

They were forced to sit next to Nitocris in a row, and two of the guards pointed their rifles at the four living crew while the rest continued to scour the ship. A smaller group remained, with what looked to be the tiger who was directing the mission.

“Who are these guys?” Klaus whispered to Nefertiti. “They don’t look like the usual—”

He got no further, since one of the lion guards took the opportunity to strike him across the face.

“Shut up!” he snarled, raising the butt of his rifle as if to smash the petite shark’s face in. Klaus winced, but Anastasia sensed her opportunity; having since clandestinely finished cutting through her ziptie seconds before.

She exploded upward, toward the distracted guard. Grabbing his chin, she jerked it upward, and jabbed her knife sideways into his throat. He opened his mouth, choking, and reached for his neck. His rifle fell from his grip as he did so; it dangled from the strap that attached it to the shoulder of his body armor. Withdrawing the bloodied, two inch knife, she plunged it lower into his neck as he struggled and gurgled.

Then, all in the span of a couple of seconds, she seized his rifle and raised it to point at the other guard, using the throat-stabbed one as a partial shield.

But the other guards had been paying more attention than she’d bargained for. One of them leapt up behind her, wrapping his thick arm around her neck and pulling backward, trying to choke her out. She snarled, though breath was already coming more difficultly. Her fellow crew, meanwhile, were still sitting; with their hands tied, they could offer nothing in the way of assistance.

Anastasia, feeling herself growing faint, raised the rifle awkwardly in one hand and fired several times at the man closest to her. He was hit; he fell like a stone as the rounds penetrated the weak body armor. But as she tried to turn the weapon in one hand, she let go of the limp guard who she was using as a shield, and he slumped over, preventing her from aiming as he dragged the weapon down. Her now free hand was brought up to her throat, where she tried desperately to free herself from the chokehold.

But it was no use; she was already weak, and he was much stronger than she was. If only she could turn the weapon on him, blow his brains out…

It was for naught. As she struggled, more men rushed her, and one ripped the rifle out of her now slack grip. Her face was a screwed-up sort of fearful, betraying her normally calm and cold demeanor as she felt her life slip away in the muscled arm of the man behind her. As her arms fell limp at her sides, she passed out completely.

The other captives, who’d been observing this with a mix of horrified and frantic anticipation, now watched as Anastasia was guided down unconscious into a lying position. As some of the men attended to their two dead fellows, the leader walked over to the unconscious snow leopard with a calm but serious scowl on his face. He looked down at her admittedly pretty form, and then to the man who’d knocked her out, currently kneeling over her.

“Tie her hands again,” he commanded. “Then wake her, and bring her to me.” At that, he walked toward the remaining three prisoners and spoke again. “Listen well. You are known to be smuggling supplies to rebel forces using this vessel. We know you’ve carried another full load today. Reveal to me where it is, and he or she who speaks may be spared.”

They glanced fearfully at one another. The cargo was indeed hidden well; it was apparently only sheer luck that these men hadn’t found it yet. As Klaus and Nitocris remained quiet, Nefertiti spoke up, causing them both to look at her in alarm.

“We have not assisted any rebels,” she said in a remarkably cool tone. “We’re here on personal business, not smuggling. You’re the ones who’ve broken the law, by stopping us during a lawful—”

“Enough,” the tiger said. While the woman had spoken, Anastasia had been dragged over to him on her knees. She was just starting to regain consciousness, and her head was lolling around in a groggy way as the tiger kept her upright with a hand on her shoulder. “I have no patience for your lies, whore. You will tell me, or I will cut off her fingers and toes until you change your mind.”

With his other hand, he drew a large, sharp looking combat knife that was smooth on one side, and serrated on the other. The captives looked on, eyes wide, but still didn’t say anything. He looked upon them, stony faced. “Very well, then…”

And he reached down, perhaps to painfully pull Anastasia’s arms backward up toward him. She was awake now, and was softly struggling against him as she tried to regain her strength. She looked angry, but calculating, as if she was still trying to find a way out of this. But before the tiger could wrench her arms up, somebody came jogging up to him from below deck. Coming right up to him, he whispered something breathlessly in his ear.

And the tiger raised his eyebrows, muttered something back, and then turned with a satisfied smirk back to his victims.

“Well…” he said softly. “Bad news, ladies and…Gentleman? It turns out, sadly, that we’ve gone ahead and found your stash of weapons anyway. So…” He gestured with his knife at the three sitting captives, and his men advanced forward, each seizing one of them and pulling them away from the wall, dragging them along the deck as they remained on butt or knee. “Strip them naked,” he commanded with a slightly sadistic smile. “Have some fun with them, if you will…” Then he looked down at the still slightly groggy Anastasia.

“This one…” he continued softly, mostly to himself. “I’m going to deal with personally. Dear, it was brave what you did. And either impressive on your part or incompetent on the part of my men that you were able to sneak that knife and escape your ties. But you did kill two police officers…Friends of mine. That demands retribution.”

He kneeled unexpectedly, putting his knee in her back and pushing her to the ground on her front. She made no sound on the way down, but tensed as she sensed that she would be dead within seconds. But he didn’t make to cut her throat, stab her, or anything of the sort just yet. Instead, the tiger worked his knife between her shoulder blades, and negotiated it under her top. With a loud RIP, he dragged the blade down her back, cutting away the fabric with ease. He didn’t stop where the top became her skirt, instead slipping the knife deftly between her cheeks and coming millimeters from cutting her in one of her most delicate areas.

But he was clearly skilled with his blade, for he never quite touched her, which was suspiciously nice of him in her fearful opinion. As her gown was fully split down the middle and separated, revealing her bare, shapely ass, he moved to the detached sleeves that still adorned her arms, but stopped. She would look fine dying this way, he decided.

So, jerking her up to her knees, he looked down as her dress remained on the deck, shiny and beautiful with purple and gold. She still had on thigh-high leggings in the same style as the gown, but the tiger elected to leave those as well. She would simply look like a harlot as he sawed her head off in front of her companions…

And to that effect, he gazed upon her from his high angle to see her large breasts almost completely obscuring his view of her lower body. But she was attempting to double over, as if to keep her nude body from being seen. He kneed her back to force her to kneel upright again, and followed her stare to see what she was so interested in.

She was watching, impassively but with a hint of fear as Nefertiti was forcefully stripped out of her blue uniform; the two men attacking her didn’t bother with a knife, but instead just tore at her, and pulled at the buttons and zippers, so that her clothing came away with a combination of tearing and more traditional removal. Her pants were down at her knees as she fought against the men holding her, and her shirt was torn open to reveal her own big, bouncing breasts. They were impressively perky for a woman her age.

And the others hadn’t escaped such fates either; Nitocris was already completely naked, for she had been wearing a less complicated uniform than the others. She was on her back, with her hands still trapped under her, looking away with her eyes clenched shut as her legs had been forcibly spread, and a young lion was lying on top of her, his own pants below his ass. He was thrusting slowly, gyrating, and she was wincing with every intrusion of his cock. But within the pain on her face was the unmistakable look of a woman who was enjoying at least some of what was happening. It was, of course, the result of biological tampering during her soldier training, rather than a natural process.

And Klaus wasn’t faring much better. For while he hadn’t been stripped, the guards who tried noticed his manly adornments beneath his uniform, and decided that he would be more fun if he remained clothed, perhaps so that they might pretend he was a woman. Two of the men were holding him on his knees, and one had his throbbing erection out. They were forcing him to suck it, and he did so with terror in his eyes while the other guard held a knife to his throat.

“Look,” the tiger said to Anastasia. “This is the last thing you’ll ever see. How does that feel?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but he sensed that she was about to utter some hateful curse at him, so he wasted no time. Seizin