Nobody's Servant 1.0

Dominion [vore]

"You want that on my ship?"

Jaws part and I slip out into the light again. It's getting more irritating than it is startling at this point, not that I don't prefer the fresh air. The larger jackal isn't looking at me in her palm, she is checking over her shoulder as if my companion might be lurking nearby. In fact, she even asks, "He's not here, is he?"

I suck air through my teeth. "He's... around. I don't exactly know, but nowhere near us. He thought you'd be more receptive to our request coming from me than from him."

She shudders a sardonic cackle. "He had the right idea. You're not the one I'm worried about anymore."

"Does that mean you'll let me go?" I dare.

"Nah," she simply declines. "You're pleading for two now, and exotic radiance or not, I don't like problems I can't eat. On the other hand, a little ball of nutrients and iron like you is so difficult to pass up..."

"Is there any way we could not do th–!" I cut off into a yelp; I'm not halfway through rolling my eyes when she claps me against her belly with the palm of her hand. It's soft enough to absorb most of the impact but I don't appreciate being played with.

Her stomach growls as if on cue, reminding me of the passive power of that hungry flesh within and below, capable of annihilating me in an afternoon. As if I could forget. Trying to push against her gets me nowhere, but as long as my arms are extended, she grips me by one, dangling me by it as she lifts me level with her face. I have nothing to say, nothing I can say. All I do is scowl.

After a few seconds, her grin softens to a warm smile, suited to someone who hadn't just threatened me. "Oh, relax," she chides. "I don't really care if you're scared of me or not, but I had at least hoped for a better reaction."

I don't even dignify that with a sigh. "Can I finish my story?"

"Please," she invites. "Do get in my mouth first though, if you don't mind."

"Like I have a say in it," I groan as she raises me.

Her teeth clamp my body from the waist down, sharp points briefly testing how I yield to their pressure, until she jerks her head forward in one quick motion, engulfing me in the blink of an eye. And then I am between the roof and the tongue again, lying on my back to stare upside-down at the pale gray horizon beyond her fangs.

Almost there.

To a layperson, working in necrotech might conjure images of dimly lit labs, preserved organs meshing artfully with runework and circuitry, and patients rising off the slab with altered forms we only used to dream of. In truth, there's a bit of that, but it's mostly dragging cadavers. You get good at it. Under Directorate law, citizens of a certain societal stratum and above all contribute to research, performing one last service even after they have drawn their final breath. There is always someone to move.

Today, it was what remained of the two scavengers who thought they might take us as a prize. Their scrapper team began to mill about semi-autonomously after the end of Suraokh's session, let us call it, but they seem responsive to his instructions. It tidily solved the problem of getting the barge in motion again.

As much as Suraokh might have liked to travel in his submarine, a craft he was far more familiar with, it rests now in the middle of the deck, torn open and mangled beyond repair. It will be difficult to explain what we're doing with a scavenging craft painted in Prelature colors when we try to dock in Dominion territory. This, of course, assumes they will not simply blast us on sight. I try not to think about that; I have to trust Suraokh has a plan even if he has been light on details. As the remaining scrappers pay me no mind, least of all as I have replaced my raincoat with a spare like theirs, I spend my time treading delicately to pick through the salvage.