You are a spacer. You fly around the settled systems, doing odd jobs for whomever will pay. Your latest job was smuggling some contraband for a pirate group. As payment they gave you three of their slave girls. You brought them onboard and sat them in the crew lounge, each of them filthy and battered from their time in captivity. You assume they have survived some horrors. There's Bones, a Martian woman who is busying herself rolling a joint with slender fingers. She is willowy, perhaps seven feet in height, with long, thin arms and legs. The pallor of her skin emphasizes the black of her almond shaped eyes. Her mouth is curled in to a small smile. Malia, a tough as nails mercenary, stands at attention with her hands clasped behind her back. She's has the physique of a body builder. The tattered remnants of her fatigues no longer contain her buldging muscles or ample bosom. She meets your gaze with a cool confidence. Six, a small, nevous woman, sits fidgiting on the couch as her eyes dart between you and the other two. The pirates mentioned she'd been some sort of genetic guinea pig for a mad scientist, leaving her a little skittish. The three women await your orders, Captain.