Editing Hesperax's Pet (section)

=Prologue=

“…What in the actual fuck am I looking at?”

Ever since the trio of freighters had shown up on sensors, Lelith Hesperax had felt uneasy. They were too easy a target: undefended, no armaments, seemingly unmanned saved a few crew members and servitors. Plus, the vessels had seemingly been waiting for her small raiding fleet, drifting in space nearby one of their more commonly-used Webway exits. They reeked of a trap, but temptation got the better of the Succubus. 

After ordering one of her smaller detachments of Bloodbrides aboard, Lelith had watched the entire breaching process from the bridge of her flagship. Again, it was too easy. No resistance offered, no mon’keighs scrambling about with their crude weapons, not even any alarms. The first two ships had been packed to the brim with various precious metals, raw materials, and other items which would fetch a high price back in Commorragh. In fact, upon entry, several servitors had rushed at her wyches, trying to offer out dataslates containing manifests. Of course, it wasn’t until after the fact, when the machines’ oily remains littered the floor, that said dataslates were even looked at.
 
None of that compared to what awaited them on the third vessel, however. Glaring at the viewscreen, Lelith repeated her statement, trying to maintain her composure in front of her subordinates. Before the Succubus were images of herself, all in picture frames adorning the walls. Most she recognized as being from pict-recordings in the brief moments where she was visible during raids, but there were a few that truly disturbed even her. 

“Stop. Pick up that one there,” she ordered, biting her lip in anger as the Wych in question did as she was told. The Wych held up the framed picture so that it filled the viewscreen, causing those few on the bridge with Lelith to snicker. It was an extremely candid shot of her bathing, somehow obtained from her private residence. From the angle, Lelith guessed that the camera had to have been hidden in the mirror across from her bathtub, but that was the least of her concerns. Storming out of the bridge, she barked several orders as her underlings continued to fail at suppressing their laughter at the image of her having a bubble bath, complete with rose petals, candles, and topped off with a rubber ducky. 

By the time Lelith reached the boarding party on the freighter, she had decided that she would be personally flaying every member of her former Security staff for allowing this to happen. She was still debating whether to maim those who had seen the picture, but that would come later. Striding past the lower-ranking Wyches, Lelith led the raiding party onwards down the corridor. Each additional meter served to increase her rage, which caused the women following her to shrink back. Finally reaching the entrance to the main cargo hold, Lelith planted her bladed heels into the deckplate, legs shoulder-width apart as she glared at a note left on the doorway:

“To my dearest Hesperax. Love, your secret admirer.”

Moments later, the door was ripped from its hinges and flung into the emptiness of the cargo hold. Lelith stood in the sheered door frame, fuming as she realized there was no trap waiting for her on the other side. Instead, all that was in the hold was a single man, bound spread-eagle and gagged against a metal slab elevated at a forty-five degree angle. 

“LEAVE US!” barked Lelith, practically leaping over to the human in preparation to dismember him for being a part of this embarrassing affair. There was no glory in being given gifts, no honor in accepting prizes and affection that was freely given. She would burn this entire convoy, to make an example of those who thought they could tempt and insult her so easily. But first, she had to deal with the mon’keigh. Ripping the gag from the man’s face, Lelith flung back her razorflail, only to have her arm stopped by his words.

“Umm…Are you Ms. Hesperax? I…I’m Acolyte Avitus…and I’m here to…”

“I DO NOT CARE WHAT YOU ARE HERE FOR, ONLY THAT YOU SUFFER FOR MY AMUSEMENT!” shrieked Lelith, flinging the whip across his flesh and opening a rather nasty gash in his chest. Grunting in pain, the acolyte continued to stammer. 

“I’m supposed to tell you…message from the Inquisitor…”

Another lash, as the fire in her eyes increased. So she was being mocked by one of the Corpse-God’s insane followers?
“He…he says…I’m to be your p…personal slave…and…”

“I DO NOT NEED ANOTHER SLAVE,” shot back Lelith, lowering her flail as she tried to calm herself. “What I NEED is a reason WHY I am being ridiculed in this way!”

Gulping, Avitus offered, “I…I don’t know…I was just told to either to do this or…or face summary execution…”

“Worthless. Worthless SCUM,” she spat, turning and leaving the hold. As she passed her wyches on the way back to her own ship, she ordered, “Bring the mon’keigh, along with enough spoils to warrant a return trip. Then, burn this entire convoy. I will be dealing with the mon’keigh *personally* when we get back to Commorragh.”