“It’s no use, General. Every time we try to re-install her from back-up, we get memory bleed. I can’t think of anything else we can try, unless we can get her to a Stellar Command Base. The outpost’s computers just can’t handle the enormous complexity of a fully sapient synthoid’s programming and experiences.”

“I must have Arra functional, Doctor. We need the knowledge she held in her braincore, and we need it as soon as possible. Lives are depending on it.” General Zalus Zarin slammed his fist into his palm. “Raider activity has increased over the past few days by an alarming amount, I have to assume she was bringing back vital evidence about when, where and how they intend to attack.”

“Yes, General. You’ve told me that half a dozen times already,” sighed Freyza Mentris, Doctor of Robotics and Cyber-archaeology. “I don’t know what else to say. My computers can’t handle the decompression of her mind, so they start making backups into any hardware connected, including her. Memory bleed. Which ends up marking those addresses as sacrosanct, meaning there’s less space in her braincore for the things that belong there. If I allowed it to continue, it would catastrophically destroy the back-up, my computer, and her brain. Fortunately, I caught it each time and with some extensive root-level work I was able to undo the damage. But there’s no way she can be re-installed here.”

“What about my ship’s computer?”

“You’d have even less space to work with. Your computer is way more flexible and advanced, but military ship computers have so much going on under the hood at any one time, the risks are even greater, though different. She could end up steering you into a sun.”

“How’s that?”

“You have neuro-interface tech on your ship, right? Connect the human pilot’s brain to the computer for direct control over the ship?”

“Yes. Oh, I see. The computer would use the pilot’s brain… wait, we have more interfaces than just the pilot, ad we can isolate those from the control systems without too much risk.”

“You’re suggesting we use human brains as the overflow capacity the decompression needs? That is hugely dangerous for anyone connected to the service.”

“But it can be done?”

“In theory, sure. But no one’s ever actually tried it, and I dread to think what it will do to them.”

“Like I said, the Raiders are planning something big. Arra knew what it was. She died trying to get the information to us. I’ll ask for volunteers. How many do you think you need?”

“At least a dozen. Twice that to be absolutely sure.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Between them, laid on a table that glowed with all manner of circuits and symbols, lay the slim, feminine form of Arra. Naked, lifeless, and indistinguishable from a human body to anyone observing, and in the manual, chastely described as “fully functional in every detail, including intimacy.” Because sometimes, a spy needed to fuck her targets to find out what they knew.

* * *

Ensign Barbara “Babs” Colinna lay back on her bed in a thin synth paper smock. Her hands hovered over her head, holding the neuro-interfacer helmet a few inches from her scalp.

“You’re sure my own memories will be safe?”

“As sure as I can be. This is a risky procedure, Ensign. But you knew that when you volunteered.”

“Yes, Doctor. But, just how risky?”

“Well, you know how your long-term memories don’t overwrite one another? This is using your own brain’s memory management to handle things. Mostly, it will actually be using short-term memory anyway. The biggest risk is that you’ll have a few things from Arra’s mind shifted to long-term storage. You’ll have a few seconds of her memories alongside your own, which will feel very strange and disorientating for the rest of your life. But I really think you’ll be okay.”

“Well, I guess I’d manage. It is quite scary though.”

“I’ll be monitoring things myself, and your crew’s cyber-ops team will also be watching to make sure nothing goes horribly wrong. You’re in safe hands.” Dr Mentris clasped Babs’s hand between her palms. “Good luck, Ensign. You’re a very brave woman.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Babs pulled the helmet over her head, her face obscured by the bright sheen.

* * *

In all, 21 volunteers had come forward. The General had been eager to take part himself, but his XO and Dr Mentis both told him he had to be ready to make decisions, should anything go wrong. His protestations that he couldn’t ask his people to take any risk he wasn’t willing to undergo himself were met by pointing out his willingness wasn’t in doubt. His suitability was.

Soldiers and sailors from Private up to Major and Ensign up to Lieutenant-Commander had come forwards to connect their brains to the decompression matrix flowing from the back-up through the computer and, ultimately, back into Arra’s head. Each of them accepted a heavy sedative to put them to sleep so there would be as little noise as possible in the mind-connected system.

* * *

Babs found herself trudging through a blizzard. Fear coursed through her veins. She was being hunted through the storm. Something had alerted the Raiders to her presence, lurking where she wasn’t supposed to be, and now she had to escape. She couldn’t remember why she had gone where she was, or even where it had been. Some part of her mind recalled that it was an icy world where Arra had been spying. This must have happened to Arra. But it was happening to her now, she could feel it, it was real. Except, the snow wasn’t cold like she’d expected. Oh, yes. Arra was a robot. She might look and feel human, but she didn’t need information about the snow’s temperature and her core heater had adjusted automatically, so she’d shut down those sensors to preserve energy.

Babs knew she was a passenger, but it still felt sickening when “her” body refused to follow what she wanted to do. The scariest thing was that the part of Arra’s memory that dealt with where she’d been going was not part of what she was experiencing, either someone else got it, or the synthoid’s mind worked so differently that the processing of that information was in some completely different part of her memory than the experiences Babs was sharing now.

Out of the swirling, suffocating whiteness lurched a huge armoured beast - a Raider in full winter combat clothing. Babs tried to scream, but nothing came out, tried to duck, but nothing happened. Instead, she saw an arm that was disturbingly unfamiliar, lash out and discharge energy into the man’s chest, causing him to slump. She didn’t pause, just ploughed on through the wind and snow. She heard another sound, this time behind her, beneath the howling storm. She turned to see what it was.

And then she woke up.

* * *

“It’ll take another day or so for her mind to rebuild itself, General. But the risk to your ship and crew is over. They have played their part and can be disconnected.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I wish I could let you write up what you did here as a scientific paper, but everything will have to be classified at the highest levels. If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll have you shot for treason. Understood?”

“Understood, General. I hope the information you need is waiting for you in Arra’s mind when she’s recovered. I’ll pack my things to return to my outpost now, if you don’t mind.”

“Carry on, Doctor.”

The General left to return to the bridge. Doctor Mentis reached out to shut down the neuro-interfacer routines and release the men and women when she noticed a line of test blinking on the output console.

SECONDARY BACK-UP DECOMPRESSION AND INSTALLATION ON SLAVE UNITS. 100% COMPLETE

“Oh no!” She breathed, just before two muscular, military arms grabbed her from behind, one over her mouth to smother her scream, the other clutching her breasts and dragging her off her feet.

* * *

As Mentis had realised in that moment, there had been a second installer lurking in the back-up systems where Arra had stored herself when her body shut down. And the only “slave units” attached to the computer had been the human subjects of their decompression routine. How the Raiders had anticipated that the Confederation Navy would try to use human subjects to do this, she couldn’t guess, maybe the intention had been to overwrite other synthoids. But it was clear that some kind of mind virus had taken over the volunteers.

Still gagged by the hand over her mouth, she was dragged down the corridors, kicking and struggling but her efforts futile against someone with the strength and stamina to endure combat on enemy worlds. While she kicked and squirmed, she ran the numbers in her head, trying to work out how bad this really was. Out of a crew of 63 and the General’s personal guard platoon of 30 or so, at most 20 had been infected. 73 against 20 surely gave the loyal crew a strong advantage, right? But, the corridors seemed devoid of life, how had no one noticed what was going on?

Abruptly, her captor threw her through an archway. She landed in a crumpled heap on the floor of the ship’s brig. In one soundproofed cell, she could already see they had the General. Several others from both the crew and the soldiers were stuffed into a few more cells. A handful of the men from the procedure stood around still in their paper smocks. And Babs stood haughtily with hands on her hips and feet wide apart sneered down at Mentis.

“Glad you could join us, Doctor,” she said. “You’ll be pleased to know, my long-term memories are perfectly intact. It’s just, thanks to you, I’ve had an awakening. An epiphany, if you will. I remember perfectly what I used to be like, all duty and honour and willing sacrifice for the greater good. Well, that me is dead, and good riddance. Now, I’m putting myself first, and my new Raider friends too. Ironic that you designated us as ‘slave units’ to your computer.” Mentis was about to protest that it hadn’t been her code that did that, but Babs looked up at the nearest men. “Strip her!”

The men flipped Mentis onto her back. One of them kept her mouth covered, another pulled her footwear off, then started yanking her trousers down her legs. Two more held her arms while a fifth ripped her tunic open, baring her still firm and perky tits.

Mentis struggled again, but if she had been unable to escape one of them, five meant she had no chance. She stared up at the former ensign, now imperiously standing over her.

“I really hope you know how to lick pussy,” Babs smirked, and before Mentis could protest, Babs was lowering her crotch over her face. All she could see was a smooth, hairless cunt and above it, Babs’s huge breasts. Then there was only her arse and thighs, until they blotted out her vision entirely and her nostrils filled with the scent of a woman’s arousal.

Mentis yelped at the sudden sting of Babs’s hand slapping her cunt. “Get to work, or I swear, you’ll wish you were dead with the duties I’ll have my new friends put you to.” Mentis squirmed, but it was no use. Hesitantly, her cheeks burning with humiliation, she extended her tongue and tried to run it up and down Babs’s slit.

“Fuck you, slave - do it like you fucking mean it!” Babs snarled, and pressed more of her wait onto Mentis’s face. “I saw your file, you’re still in your 30s. You’ve got plenty of energy for this, yet. And trust me, there are worse duties than fuckslave on a Raider planet.”

Tears formed in Mentis’s eyes, but she redoubled her efforts to please the sadistic woman that the nervous Babs had become.

“You!” Babs said, Mentis couldn’t see who she was pointing to. “You look like you need some release. Fuck her while she licks me out. Really encourage her to work faster!”

Mentis sobbed into Babs’s vulva, feeling two firm hands grip her thighs and push them apart, making space for the cock to force its way into her unprepared cunt. The man spared her nothing, gave her no time to catch her breath. He started pounding her and she screamed harder, completely muffled by the muff pressed against her mouth. She frantically worked her tongue up and down, in and out, anything that seemed to satisfy her tormentor for a moment longer. Muffled by the thighs around her head, Mentis heard the sound of fabric tearing.

Then, she screamed once more. She didn’t know which of her rapists had seized her nipples, but whoever it was pinched hard, twisting and tugging.

“Please stop!” Mentis sobbed, but there was no mercy from the would-be raiders. But she could hear Babs growing more excited above her. Her tits suffered again, even more brutal punishment drawing more screams from Mentis’s desperate lungs. And with that, Babs reached her climax. To Mentis, it seemed to last forever, she had no idea how long Babs’s orgasm really lasted. But at last, it was over.

Just a few seconds after that, the man fucking her gave a guttural groan and she sobbed with shame to feel his hot semen filling her cunt.

She barely had time to recover before they rolled her on her front again, and she found out what the tearing fabric was. Her own clothing was now being used to bind her wrists behind her back.

“Make sure she sucks off everyone else who needs it,” she told the men, “I’m going to find some clothes.”

Mentis quailed as she glanced around at at least half a dozen more erections, queuing up to rape her mouth.

* * *

The mind-virus infected crew found it ridiculously easy to overpower resistance on the ship. Most people had trusted them right up until they were grabbed and imprisoned in the brig. The rest were outnumbered and outgunned. And with that, they set a heading for the nearest Raider homeworld.

Mentis knew little of this, only that she saw more and more members of the crew herded and crammed into cells in the brig, segregated by sex. Every female member of the crew was raped at least once on the voyage, it seemed, usually by at least one male and one female “raider” at once.

At last, they felt the manoeuvring thrusters firing and the ship docked somewhere.

The wait was interminable, but eventually new faces - genuine raiders, with their terrifying armour and paint jobs, strode into the brig. One by one they hauled the women away ad marched them off the ship.

At last, it was Mentis’s turn. As she was escorted from the airlock, she found herself in a broad boulevard where the women were being shackled into long lines. Crude, metal hoops encircling necks, wrists and ankles, and linked by heavy chains.

And fighting as she was being shackled, was Babs, protesting that she was one of them, a true Raider in spirit and heart, and she should not be a slave like all the others.

The other slave units.

Deep in her heart, Freyza Mentis hoped the buxom young ensign would earn herself one of the worst assignments on this world.