by Leandros
Jiska looked around. “Can I do it here?”
“Of course. They have seen way weirder than anything you can bring to the table.”
Jiska took a deep breath, focussed, and soon, her mask was in place along with her purple and black uniform.
“Very nice. You may want to have Phase work on the torso design. It doesn’t do you justice.”
Jiska looked down at the compression of her breasts that allowed her to move comfortably. “Why?”
“There are many more flattering designs that can still be functional. You are young, very young, and you need to feel that you look your best.”
“I am not so young. I certainly have never felt young.” Jiska took a few more tidbits off the platters and watched as Mala consumed everything put in front of her.
“That is not your fault, nor is it the fault of those around you. They acted as they did to preserve your society.”
Jiska paused. “It sounds as if you know all about me.”
“Of course I do. How could I manufacture a suit perfectly designed for someone if I didn’t know why they needed it?” Mala smiled.
“You seemed to not know anything about me aside from my rank.”
“I figured you would mention your concerns in time. Time just ran out.” The woman with the dark rainbow hair grinned, showing white teeth with surprisingly little food in them.
“I see.”
“You don’t, but I know that you had to take on far more than any child should, and the pressure from all sides didn’t dissipate until the moment you left your home world. Decompressing is a tricky thing, but you can let yourself go in small ways every time you are on a base or a Citadel outpost. I think you should start at the gym. A solid workout routine can really get you in touch with your physical form and help you burn off frustrations.”
“You are assuming that I have frustrations.”
“You are partnered with Negotiator Fewnor, you will have frustrations.” Mala snorted.
Chapter Ten
After the café, they headed to a seamstress where Jiska was forced to ask, “If the Masuo takes whatever form I want, why do I need gowns?”
“The Masuo needs some time off now and then, besides, there is nothing like the feel of l’nal silk against your skin.”
Jiska watched the huge spider as it puttered around her and measured her with the lightest touch of the huge legs. “You spin your own silk into fabric?”
The spider let out a series of clicks and a voice spoke from a box on the creature’s chest. “Of course I do. Who else would?”
Jiska chuckled. “Fair point. I suppose it would be a fairly intimate procedure.”
The seamstress clacked again. “You have no idea.”
With the measurements taken, the seamstress began to pin and tuck the silk into place.
Mala had already told Jiska that this gown was on her tab. Jiska was earning funds for her work with the Citadel, but she didn’t have a credit slip or pay scan registration yet. Jiska was out in the universe with no way to even buy herself lunch.
The gown was lovely when it was finished. The seamstress had her put it on and take it off three times before she was satisfied that her work would not be trashed in Jiksa’s hands.
The l’nal boxed up the gown and patted Jiska on the head. “You will be a good one, child. You just need to let yourself be a young woman now and then. You don’t have to be in control all the time, just some of the time.”
Jiska patted her on the limb just touching hers. “I will try.”
Mala smiled, and the seamstress said, “That is all you can do.”
With the box under her arm and a shopping day behind her, Jiska returned to Sector Guard Base Morganti with the first thing she had ever shopped for and the beginning of a new friendship.
Deskin was waiting for them when they returned, and he waved at her as Mala brought the skimmer down for a landing. “We have another assignment, Jiska.”
She nodded and turned to Mala with a smile. “It was nice meeting you, Mala. Thanks for lunch and the dress.”
Mala gave her a quick hug. “Take care and keep your own mind in mind. You are in a dangerous job. Stay safe.”
Jiska gave her a watery smile. “Maybe, the next time I can meet the family.”
Mala laughed. “You really do enjoy punishment. Yes, Mabi and Isala will be all over you. Have a good trip and keep in touch. I will have some spare suits created for you and sent to Udell.”
“Thank you again for all you have done. I didn’t even know I needed to talk this out.”
Mala chuckled. “We rarely do. We get so used to holding it together that we forget to let it go now and then.”
With those words following her, Jiska got into the Coming Storm and stowed her new gown in one of the cargo containers.
Deskin gave her a speculative look. “Did you enjoy your time with Fixer?”
She laughed. “I did. Did you enjoy your time with Relay and Shade?”
He shrugged. “Shade had his little ones with him today, so it was a tad distracting, but we managed a thorough briefing.”
Deskin brought up the mission details on her screen while he did pre-flight checks on the shuttle.
Deskin was being summoned to broker a hostage exchange. The Correnor people of Jurk Six had captured an exploration team and were refusing to give them back. Deskin had to negotiate the release of the six-member team and sooth the Correnor.
Jiska shifted her Masuo from a loose tunic and trousers into her bodysuit with slightly more cleavage than it originally showed. The collar crept up her neck and formed into a mask that only left her lower jaw and lips exposed.
Deskin looked at her and blinked. “That is very intimidating.”
“The idea is to conceal my identity, if you will recall. I still need to figure out a call sign, but I don’t know where to start.”
He grinned as he turned to the controls, and the shuttle lifted from Morganti to soar toward their next destination.
The entire way, he gave her single word suggestions that she rejected, several of them based on lewd description that she remembered from her time in the barracks.
“Blink. Fine. Just call me Blink.” She sighed and propped her chin on her fist.
“Excellent. Nice and simple. I blink, and I am on the floor. It has a certain poetic logic.” Deskin snickered.
“Fine. Don’t tell me that you couldn’t see to the truth of what was supposed to be my name.”
He shrugged. “I try not to use my talent on those that I am around. It tends to create a tension in folk when they think I am seeing through those polite social lies we all tell.”
She snorted. “But you can.”
“Yes, but most folk do not like to imagine that I am.” He laughed. “It is a polite social lie that I do not use my talent all the time.”
“So, Blink. I have to answer to Blink.” She smiled as she chanted it in her thoughts.
“You will do fine. I can see the truth of your ability to adapt to a new name, just like you adapted to your rank designations.”
She crossed her arms under her breasts and huffed. To her surprise, he was staring at her chest.
Jiska smirked and casually asked, “Which one of us takes the bunk first?”
He licked his lips and swallowed. “You are welcome to it.”
She got to her feet. “Good. I need a shower.”
As she walked off the command deck, she coaxed her Masuo into crafting a higher heel. She was four inches taller and moving with surprising ease by the time she left the scope of Deskin’s vision. She could feel him staring at her butt the entire time.
She entered Deskin’s quarters, and her suit shifted into a tank and shorts set, similar to the ones she wore when she was in service to Urgat. She lifted a data pad and keyed in Correnor. The data that she managed to glean was interesting, and she wondered how Deskin was going to deal with an aggressive matriarchal society. This was going to be fascinating to watch.
It took Deskin half an hour of intense negotiation just to get landing clearance on Jurk Six. Finally, Jiska spoke up and the clearance was forthcoming.
Deskin looked at her. “How did you do that?”
She arched her brows, knowing that he couldn’t see them under the mask. “Didn’t you do your research?”
“What research?”
“Women run the Correnor society. If you don’t want to get your ass handed to you, you might want to remember that.”
Deskin grimaced. “I suppose I should be thankful that I have a woman as dedicated to my safety as you are. This might make things easier—or perhaps not.”
He brought their shuttle in for a landing and slipped on his robes. Blink settled herself in her heels, checked her hidden blades and the placement of the armour panels now in her Masuo. She was ready to face whatever the Correnor could throw at them.
Behind Deskin, she watched as the shuttle door opened and he walked out into the bright light of the three suns. Blink heard the weapons being aimed at him and walked out to save his ass.
The moment she appeared, the female guard of the Correnor put their weapons up. “Lady. You are welcome in our houses.”
Blink inclined her head and stepped forward to greet the captain of the guard. “Thank you for the welcome, Captain. I am Blink, bodyguard to Negotiator Fewnor.”
The captain inclined her head and extended her arm. Blink met the grip with her features calm and blandly friendly.
“Why do you wear a mask, Blink?”
Blink smiled—she knew that this was going to be a common question. “It is to protect the ones I love and to protect myself. I am a hunted woman, and the more I can slow down my being located, the better for me.”
“Thank you for your candor.”
“Honesty is best when it can be employed. Now, may we discuss the matter of the Alliance team?”
The captain smiled and the crowd of guards parted. “This way. Our headwoman is waiting to meet with you.”
Blink took Deskin’s arm and led him through the gathered women. He was attuned to the situation, and he did not fight her grip.
The headwoman was matronly and had a no-nonsense manner about her. She stood with her pale yellow skin and dark hair gleaming in the bright daylight. “So, you are what the Alliance sends to negotiate for the lives of their people?”
Blink bowed respectfully. “No, Madam. He is what the Alliance sends to negotiate for the lives of their people. I am what they send to bring him home in one piece. Headwoman, this is Negotiator Fewnor.”
Deskin strode forward and bowed low. “Headwoman, I have come to ask under what terms would you part with the Alliance personnel who trespassed on your world?”
The woman took a seat at a weather-beaten table and poured three cups of wine. “Negotiator, bodyguard, have a seat. If you can outdrink me, I will let you take them home without further delay. If not, the negotiator will have to part with some of his genetic material. We need fresh blood, and he seems an attractive specimen.”
Blink narrowed her eyes and sat across from the woman, leaving Deskin to take the seat next to her. She lifted the cup and downed it in one drag. With a nod, she slammed the cup down on the table.
The headwoman followed suit and the game was on.
Chapter Eleven
Blink breathed slowly and deeply, swaying ever so slightly as the Alliance team was shepherded back into their landing craft, and they took off.
Negotiator Fewnor was next to her, giving her unobtrusive support. The headwoman was in bed with a bucket nearby. Her guards witnessed the last half of the contest and agreed that as Blink was still standing and the headwoman was face down in her own wine, Blink was the winner.
Deskin hadn’t even joined the contest.
The trading party was released, and Blink relaxed slightly as their ship disappeared into the night sky.
Deskin offered her his arm, and she took it, lowering her heels until her boots were flat and stable.
The captain was standing nearby. “You did well, Blink. You are welcome here anytime. It takes quite a woman to out drink our headwoman.”
Blink smiled. “I did my best—now if you will excuse me, I plan on being very ill.”
The captain laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. “Be well, daughter of the stars. Correnor is open to you always.”
Blink tugged at Deskin’s arm, and he led her to their shuttle. She maintained her decorum and posture until they were aboard the Coming Storm. “Is there a guest room?”
He shook his head. “No, only the one set of quarters, why?”
“Because I wasn’t kidding about being sick. Urgat don’t metabolise alcohol the same as other species.”
“Do what you have to do—I will come in to check on you once the autopilot has taken over.” He helped her into their quarters and boosted her into the lav. “There you go. We will be on our way in a few minutes.”
Jiska dismissed her mask and closed the door to the lav. She was going to purge her system, and it was not for the faint of heart.
Her Masuo caught the hint, and it formed an anklet on her left leg. She stepped into the shower and in two minutes, the wine had left her system via her pores. Every pore on her body excreted the wine, and after the wine was clear, she was left exceptionally thirsty.
A quick towelling and her Masuo turned into a long wrap gown that exposed the inner curve of her breasts.
She fingers fluffed her hair, got two water packs and joined Deskin at the controls.
He was startled as she sat down. “You aren’t sick?”
“I was. Now I am not. Did you think I was going to throw up?”
He nodded absently.
“Urgat bleed alcohol through their pores. I just needed a shower to wash it away. It looks revolting and burns a lot.”
“Oh. I see.” He chuckled, and they lifted off the surface of Jurk Six. “I was looking forward to nursing you back to health. After all, you went above and beyond in the line of duty.”
She grimaced. “I wasn’t keen on their idea to use you as a genetic donor.”
His smile was smug. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Jiska sighed. “Fine. It was rather obvious.”
“It’s all right. I was not too happy with the captain’s offer for you to take up residence with the Correnor. I am glad you didn’t accept.”
“Why?”
He pulled them out of the atmosphere and set the controls to return them to Udell.
“Come with me, Jiska.”
She followed him, her curiosity hammering at her skull.
He took her into the bedroom and through it to the lav. He stood behind her and stared into the mirror. “What do you see when you look in this mirror?”
She shrugged. “I see you standing behind me. Why?”
His eyes were dark and intense as he stared into her face via the mirror. “I see truth. You are the truth that I have been seeking in the face of every woman I have ever met. They were all lacking this. This truth. I am yours until I die. What you choose to do with that information is up to you.”
She turned in his arms and went up on her toes, bringing him down to her for a kiss. His lips were smooth and warm, firm against hers. “This is so much better when you are awake.”
He leaned back. “You kissed me while I was unconscious?”
Her cheeks heated. “It was my first kiss, so I wanted to be in control of it, and you looked so peaceful sleeping there.”
He placed his hands on her hips. “So, how was it?”
She settled her hands on his shoulders. “A little one sided.”
“That can be remedied, but don’t knock me out.” He leaned in, and she leaned up.
They met in a kiss that shared his constraint and her curiosity. After several heated moments of groans and sighs, he broke the kiss. “This is not the place for this. The idea of a rushed beginning is not to my taste.”
She blushed and backed away. “I see
. Oddly enough, that has not been my experience. Most of the men in the barracks would have jumped at the opportunity I just offered you.”
He grinned. “I know. I am not a horny teenager. Sure, I am horny, but I have patience to wait until the moment is right. Right is not while we are on the way back to a debriefing with Guardian and Pax.”
She nodded. “Fine, we will wait, but can you kiss me again? It’s surprisingly enjoyable.”
He chortled and lifted her against him, walking back to the command deck, settling her in his lap.
They kissed over and over during the hours that the ship transported them back to Udell base. By the time they arrived, Jiska was a raw nerve and her body was humming so badly, she was sure that Deskin could hear it.
A physical release was demanded, but she didn’t know how to go about it. Aside from the mandatory information necessary for a young woman, she had not been provided with anything resembling a sexual education. Gossip in the barracks had given her what little she knew of her physiology and that wasn’t much.
When they settled in a boardroom for the debriefing, Deskin did all the talking, which was fine with Jiska, because all she could think about was finishing what they had started and finding out what the scars on his chest were from.
“A drinking contest?” Guardian appeared shocked.
Deskin nodded, his face earnest. “Indeed. It was not negotiable. Blink took the initiative and did the Citadel proud. The Alliance trading team was sent back to their base, and we were free to return to Udell.”
Pax gave her a sly look. “Blink, how did you manage to drink twenty-nine cups of wine and not die?”
Jiska inclined her head. “Urgat do not process alcohol. We secrete it from our pores to purge our systems. One hard shower and I was fine.”
Pax laughed. “Handy.”
“In this instance, yes. It isn’t a trait shared by all those from my world.”
Pax smiled, “We are aware. Deskin has no trait of that nature.”
Jiska turned her head to stare at Deskin, “Why would he be compared to someone from my world?”
Guardian was surprised. “Didn’t he tell you? Deskin is a Neccial. He was forced from his home as a child and tortured to work for the state until he could escape on a transport.”
