by Elin Wyn
“No,” I stroked her hair, ignoring the ache of need that had settled low in my belly. “Nobody can really do anything about nightmares.”
Her fingers played with the fabric of my shirt. “What have you been doing since The Star? While I was well,sleeping, let’s call it.”
Going mad. But I wasn’t about to tell her that.
“You know, reclaiming fringe stations for pirate queens. Sorting through files, looking for clues as to the plans or whereabouts of a egomaniacal madman. The usual.”
“It was nice meeting Zayda.” Her voice was softer now as she drifted back to sleep. “I’d already met Eris and Kara. They’re… nice isn’t exactly the right word, but I like them.”
“As soon as we’re back, I’ll take you to meet Valrea, Geir’s mate,” I promised. “You should know everyone in your family now.”
Eyes still closed, long lashes resting on her cheeks, her nose wrinkled adorably. “I don’t think I remember much about him.”
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “That’s all right. As long as you remember me.”
“How many brothers do you have, anyway?”
A vice tightened around my chest. But her breathing slowed, evened. She faded into sleep before I could force the words from my lips.
“I don’t know anymore.”
Loose hair covered her face. When I pushed it back, she nestled into my palm and rolled slightly, throwing one long leg over mine.
A low groan coiled in my chest. I’d battled on scores of planets, had my arm damn near chopped off, watched my brothers die, and thought I was killing her.
But to spend the night with her pressed against me was a whole new kind of battle.
And not one I was certain I could win.
I forced myself to rest, to let my body regenerate from the fight with the Hunter, but even in sleep her scent wound through my dreams. After torturous hours I gave up.
“Loree,” I whispered, reluctant to startle her awake. “I need to go.” Carefully I moved her off my shoulder. I slid towards the edge of the bed but her leg tightened around mine.
“No.”
She kissed my chest and I froze.
“Loree,” I choked out, “what are you doing?”
She didn’t answer, only pressed another feather light kiss at the base of my neck.
With snap, the wall of self-control I’d built up through the night collapsed. I lifted her until she straddled my hips.
No longer sleepy, her eyes were glazed with something else.
My hands wrapped around her waist, fingers kneading her lush hips while her hands swept up my arms to land on my shoulders, run through my hair.
In the dim cabin light she glowed. A goddess, a fantasy made real.
“Mine,” I growled and pulled her to me.
The press of her body against my chest only spurred me on to feast on her, coax the delicate seam of her mouth, nibble her lower lip, each tantalizing taste of her sending me higher.
With a soft sigh she opened for me, her soft tongue twining hesitantly with mine.
I should go slow, I should be careful with her.
But the urge to devour her, to fill her, to possess every millimeter of her whipped me further.
In seconds her movements grew bolder, less tentative, her tongue just as needy, her hands demanding as they ran under my shirt, branding me with her heat.
With the last shred of willpower, I captured her wrists, bringing her hands to my mouth to kiss the delicate wrists.
“We have to stop, babe.”
“What?” Her eyes snapped open, dazed.
“In twenty minutes,” I calculated in my head, “maybe thirty, we’ll be coming out of warp. I need much, much more time than that for everything I plan to do to you.”
The “O” of her mouth tempted me again, but I pulled away.
When she came up to the bridge, her shirt was smoothed back into the waistband of her pants, her glorious hair confined into a bun.
She clicked into her harness without looking my way.
“What is this place, anyway?”
I flipped through the console. No weapons on this barge. At least, none that would do us any good.
“Outlanders Terminal is a free traders zone.” With a pop, we emerged from warp, the long spindle of the station blazing against the dark, the stacks of rings around it bulging with modifications.
“Easiest place in the Empire to get lost. But if you’re not careful, you may not ever come out.”
“Unmarked shuttle craft!” blared through the bridge speakers. “You are entering Outlander airspace. Are you prepared to pay the tithe?”
“Yes,” I answered. “What’s the rate for three nights docking?”
“32kcreds,” came crackling back. “No, 50,” another voice argued.
Loree’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t they know?” she whispered.
“May not have had control of the tower before,” I muttered back. “Always an interesting challenge.”
I flipped the comms back on. “38 and we’re done.”
“40 and you’ll transfer it now, “ a third voice countered.
“Transfer as soon as we’ve docked. Send me the account, and the docking codes..”
I took the tablet from Loree to set up the transfer of the credits.
“Do they always argue about the docking fee?”
“Depends.” I winced at the remaining balance, and handed the tablet back to Loree. The hidden account I’d set up for emergencies would be almost cleared out by this. The Pack could transfer more in, but the entire point of the setup was to have something unconnected, untraceable. The instant a transfer was made, a smart AI could make the connection.
“No one’s really in charge over there, so it can be hard to tell.”
“If no one’s in charge, who did you pay?”
Punching in the docking codes, I eased us through the first of the flickering energy fields. “Which ever gang was strong enough to take over the tower today. Usually it goes back and forth between a small set of fighters, and they have it worked out. These guys sound like they may not have had that much control before. Probably got lucky.”
She gnawed her lip. “If another gang takes control of the docks, will they still honor our payment?”
“Not sure if honor is the right word, but it’ll be safe enough.” The second field snapped closed behind us, and we were cleared for a landing bay. “If the gangs started backtracking on dock payments, no one would come here. And they’d lose credits. Not worth it.”
I cut the speakers, nodded to Loree. “Now’s a good time to blow whatever timer you’ve got on Tobias’s ship. Just in case things get busy down there.”
She instantly began a code sequence. “Done.”
“And so am I.” The shuttle settled into the clamps, and we were swung into the bay. The hiss and creak of the seal around the ship announced the arrival of atmosphere.
“Welcome to chaos.” I took her hand. “Stay close.”
Loree
Outlander Terminal couldn’t be that different from Orem, I told myself.
We were founded by pirates, for Void’s sake. Nothing could be more outlandish than that.
I was wrong.
When the doors opened, we stepped from the docking bay to the station proper. I pulled back in shock.
The noise, the crowds everywhere, spilling through the dim corridors. Lights flashed on signs in the distance, and yells and hoots echoed down another corridor.
And some of the people... weren’t people at all. A woman sauntered by, silks carefully arranged over her deep blue skin, leaving her whip-like tail free to coil behind her. A man passed the other way, green and yellow stripes winding up his arms, and scales shimmering across his face.
I tugged at Xander’s arm until he bent close enough to hear me. “I’ve never seen people so extensively modded!”
He cocked an eyebrow, and I blushed. “Regular people.” That wasn’t making it any bett
er, dammit.
Xander tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow, and we made our way through the swarming crowds. “It’s all just decorative. Lots of gene splicers set up shop here. No restrictions or regulations.” We passed through one intersection, then turned at the next. “And you don’t need to shout. I can hear you, just fine. My mods aren’t decorative.”
Someone grabbed my ass and I whirled. Silver lines traced intricate patterns on dark skin, high cheekbones and lavender eyes drew attention the the man behind me. The effect would have been lovely, but the leer twisting his lips spoiled it all.
Xander pulled me closer, somehow became bigger, his presence filling the corridor as people scrambled to get away. “Apologize to the lady,” he growled. “Now.”
The pretty boy was oblivious. “Get a grip, guy,” he shrugged. “It was just a friendly little pat. Not like she doesn’t have enough back there to share.”
Crap.
“Xander, we have things to do, right?” I squeezed his arm, hoping to distract him.
He just loomed over silver-boy. Time to bring out the big guns.
“Can we find a hotel?” I barely breathed the words, trusted he’d meant what he said about his hearing. “I’m ready to finish what we started on the shuttle, aren’t you?”
With a jerk he looked away from the potential victim, his golden eyes drilling into mine..
Tempting fate, my tongue ran over my lips. “Priorities,” I whispered.
“Right. Priorities.” He swept away, carrying me with him, the aura of barely suppressed violence clearing our path.
The further we went into the station, the more the crowd thinned out. Fewer flashy signs beckoned from every corner.
Xander noticed me looking about.
“This street is where you find the best of the splicers. They don’t have to advertise.”
“So they could give us stripes or spots or horns,” I joked.
“The person we’re going to see could, yes. But we don’t want anything flashy.”
We turned another corner, and he continued. “Tobias says Themis lab recruits workers from an old mining town on the surface of the colony. It’s doubtful anyone desperate enough to take the job would have the extra creds for something showy. Or extra creds at all.”
“Desperate enough for the job?” That didn’t sound good. “What are they being hired for?”
“Remember, you’re the one that wanted to come along.” Xander shrugged, rolled the tension off his shoulders. “Themis is at the top of a mountain, deep in an unsettled mountain range. Helps isolate things.”
“Isolate them for security?” I stopped to look at a wall of engineered pets, fluffy feathery things in a rainbow of colors. But before I could step forward for a better look, with a snap all of their heads swiveled towards me, fixing me with one unblinking eye each.
Well, maybe not so cute.
“For security, sure. But the primary reason for their isolation is if an experiment goes bad. The damage is contained.”
Oh. That didn’t sound particularly great, either. “What are they recruiting workers for?”
“There’s always shit-work to be done. Cleaning, hauling, you name it. Things some brainy researchers aren’t going to want to do.”
I chewed my lip, thinking. “I’ll establish back histories for us once we get there. Even if it’s for shit work, surely they run background checks on anyone they hire.”
“And that’s why you’re here, babe.”
I kicked his ankle lightly. “Surely not the only reason?”
“Well,” his hot gaze sparked a heat I could feel to my toes. “Not exactly.”
I blushed, looked away, ready to change the subject. “How do you know this place?
“There’s a guy here Doc’s traded notes with, sometimes supplies. He’s not as good as her, of course, but should be able to handle cosmetic changes. I trust him not to mess with her more significant work.”
“No, this entire place. A chaos zone.”
“Babe,” he looked away, scrubbed at his hair. “The Pack has been a lot of places, done a lot of jobs. Doc didn’t have a problem sending us out to pick up parts for her, or renting our services for extra credits.”
He looked even more uncomfortable. “We haven’t always been the good guys. I’m pretty sure we’re the good guys now, though. Maybe.”
That was worth more than just a kick to the ankle. I stretched up to kiss him. “You saved us from The Star. You’re cleaning up Orem. You freed the people at the Compound. You’re heroes, didn’t you know that?”
The look on his face was sheer terror. “Nope, I’m the clown. Not as far to fall.”
We stopped in front of a darkened storefront, no windows, just a sheen of silver rippling down the walls. “But now, I’m the guy taking you to this magical shop.”
No doorway opened for us. We passed through the wall, and a cold shudder carved through my spine. But before I could complain we were into a cavern of wonders, stranger than any legend.
Holos flickered around me, changing color and shape with every moment. I stumbled as I focused on the closest.
“That’s me!”
Taller, skin wrapped in copper strips, hair transformed to a writhing mass of metal. But still me on the holodisk, rotating slowly.
Before I could wrap my mind around the transformation, the image shifted, and now I was shorter, thin and spindle-limbed, with deep green skin. I barely noticed, eyes fixed on the black wings displayed wide above.
I reached towards them, and Xander tucked me against his side. “It’ll shock you.” He gave a wicked grin and leaned down to whisper “And that’s my job.”
Goofball.
On his other side, a similar projector ran through variations of his shape, copper, then winged, furred then horned. He cocked an eyebrow. “See anything you like? We can come back after the job is done.”
I shook my head. “Nothing I like better than you now.” I craned my neck to look behind him as his image morphed into a squat, gray distortion. “Maybe that one.”
He whirled. “What? Which?”
At his accusing glare, I shrugged, teasing. “Guess you missed it.”
Ignoring the displays, he strode deeper into the shop. “Nurack! You’ve got company!”
“Just flip through the display until you find something you like,” a thin, querulous voice called from the back of the shop. It echoed slightly, as if the space were far larger than it appeared.
“You don’t usually put off Pack business with a fancy brochure.”
A yelp and a clatter came from the dark end corners.
“Pack business?” The voice sounded farther away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Old man,” Xander rolled his eyes. “What if I told you Doc’s back? Would you know what I was talking about then?”
A flurry of sounds and then footsteps came towards us. But were footsteps were unsettling somehow. The gait strange. Wrong.
And when he came into the light I stifled my gasp.
An old man, so ancient to be almost shriveled. Gray skin that could’ve been any color when he was young, eyes covered by a set of lenses that protruded slightly. He hung suspended from six thin metal limbs, his own legs swinging limply below.
Two more metal appendages waved over his head in agitation, fine tipped claws clicking and clacking.
“Connor? Is that really you?”
Xander shook his head. “Wrong guess.”
“Xander then. She shouldn’t have made your batch so similar. It’s confusing.”
I had so many questions. But that would have to wait.
“But you said she’s back.” The old man moved his fingers and the metal legs stooped down, swooping him to hang in front of Xander.
I could see where they were fused to a plate running down his spine, cutting through the white lab coat he wore.
“Word on the dark web is Doc was taken.” He hissed the words. “Killed.”
“We got her back.” Xander gestured to me and I stepped forward. “And she’s happy and working. This is one of her new patients. Doc fixed her Karda’s Syndrome. I’m sure if you sent her a message she’d trade some hints on how she did it.”
“Really?” With disturbing speed Nurack faced me. With three skittering steps of the appendages he hung before me, waving down and up as if examining my legs.
I stepped back, uncomfortable.
“I’m so sorry.” He cocked his head to the side then extended one hand in apology. “Professional enthusiasm sometimes gets the best of me. Are you well?” His shining legs carried him higher and he looked behind me.
“There’s a wound on her shoulder. Why hasn’t Doc fixed it?”
“Doc would’ve if she was there when it happened,” Xander growled. “But if we could all sit down and talk for a minute, I might be able to explain everything.”
“Of course, of course. Come this way.”
As we passed behind another holographic screen, Nurack tapped on his sleeve. With a solid sounding thunk the illusion wall at the front of the shop shut behind us.
“We don’t need unexpected visitors,” he explained.
“Can I see that?”
He cocked his head. “What, my dear?”
“Your coat!” I stared, fascinated. It looked like regular fabric, but surely he had used it to control the building, the displays. Like a tablet woven inside the sleeve itself.
He laughed. “No, I’m sorry, my fault for not explaining. It’s not the jacket, you see,” he pushed the sleeve back from his wrist and with a thrill I saw what he had done to his arm.
Not a prosthetic, not exactly, but he had laced bone and muscle with circuits, transmitters, tiny pieces of wizardry that he could use to control the shop and, I assumed his enormous legs.
“That’s amazing,” I breathed.
“No babe.” Xander’s tone was short, but amused. “I can barely get you off the tablet. I don’t think having a commstation as part of your body’s a good idea.”
“But imagine what I could do with that!”
“I am. Trust me.”
