The Transporter's Favor

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The Transporter's Favor Page 6

by C. M. Simpson


  “I see,” he said. “Well, bring her over. I’ll need to borrow Lomis for data retrieval, but the rest of you can go as soon as the paper work is signed.”

  He turned away, and Rovan followed, taking me with him. I raised my hands to his, and he snarled. I resisted the urge to snarl back, remembering I was still pack, and he was still my pack leader—at least for a little while longer.

  We walked further into Doc’s domain, until Rakman stopped and pointed to a pod three from the bottom in the rack.

  “That one,” he said, and looked up at Rovan. “You can come back once I have your signature on the transfer.”

  “Agreed.”

  He glanced down at me, and I thought I caught a touch of regret in his expression.

  “Be a good pup,” he said, and his hand left my neck and ruffled my hair. “Say goodbye to your pack.”

  The others had crowded in after me, Lomis standing closest, and looking like he had no plans to shift. Rovan looked at him.

  “Take care of her while you are here,” he said, and I wondered at the meaning layered between his words.

  Neither of them explained, and the rest of the squad parted to let the pack leader leave, before closing in around me. I looked up at Keromil, flashing him a glance, and then looking away.

  “Goodbye, pup,” he said, ruffling my hair, and then his presence left my head, and he walked away.

  That…hurt. I raised my head in time to see him leave the room. He didn’t look back, and the next wolf stepped in to take his place.

  “Goodbye. Be no trouble.”

  More hair-ruffling, and another presence was gone from my mind. Honestly, it was like being kicked. I nodded, ducking my head so he could not see the pain in my eyes. And it got worse from there. Each goodbye was harder, the sorrow of each departure striking deep, and I wondered if the tears could be held back until the last wolf had gone, or if I would embarrass myself by having them fall before it was done.

  Honestly…I should have been relieved to have my privacy back. Instead, each farewell was like watching a piece of me leave. The last huge shadow turned away, and I leant against the pod, keeping my head down and resisting the urge to howl. The warmth of yet another presence was an unwelcome reminder that the goodbyes were not yet over.

  “Pack Leader,” I whispered, recognizing his scent, and stifling a faint sense of betrayal.

  “I did not realize you would bond so quickly,” he said, placing a hand on each of my shoulders, and stooping to set his forehead against mine, “but it cannot be, not while the contract is in play. We will seek you out when it is done, and see what remains.”

  I leant into him, as much as he would allow, not understanding why I wanted him to stay, why the loss of my enforced pack mates was tearing through me like a fistful of claws.

  “It is the way of pack,” Rovan said, as though that explained everything, “and you walk the path of every exile before you, although you should have only been walking the path of a captive released. You should not have bonded, as you are. You’re not lupar, only human.”

  I wanted to argue, but he shook me gently, and the rebellion fell away, eaten by the growing morass of grief.

  “You will be fine,” Rovan said. “Your pack is here. Your Hunt Master, two pods up, his second below him. Your own pup and pack mate is healing, over there. When I leave, you will not be alone.”

  His words held a strength of their own, and I nodded, wondering why Abby had not picked Mack and Tens up on her scans.

  “Our shuttle holds are shielded, and they were not transferred until after your capture,” Rovan explained. “Now, be a good pup.”

  He clapped my shoulders gently, before straightening up and turning away.

  I whimpered as the link between us broke, but he did not stop, and he did not turn back. This time, I watched him walk, until he stepped through a door and disappeared from sight. My vision blurred, and I realized I was going to embarrass myself, after all.

  Lomis had not yet left.

  I kept my head down, not daring to glance at the dark-furred wolf, not able to stop wondering what came next. Movement caught the edge of my vision, and I lifted my head, dashing a hand over my eyes to clear the tears.

  “Doctor,” Lomis said as Rakman returned.

  “Lomis.” The doctor gave me an assessing stare. “Pup.”

  I waited, the first wave of fear rolling through me. I returned the look, saw the first quiver of a snarl, and dropped my eyes.

  “You boys taught her well.”

  Lomis laid a hand on my shoulder, and I flinched.

  “She learned quickly.”

  I wanted to say I’d had incentive, but my tongue wouldn’t move. I flinched, again, when Rakman laid a hand on the front of my armor and snapped the fastenings open.

  “Hey.”

  “I need bare skin,” the doctor said, and Lomis’s hand curled into a vice locked over my arm.

  “Like, Hell, you do!” I snapped, and the doctor stepped back, as Lomis moved to stand in front of me. He planted both hands on my shoulders, curling his fingers into the crevices of the light armor and lifting my feet off the floor.

  “I haven’t left, yet,” he said, “and my pack leader gave me instructions.”

  He set my feet back on the floor.

  “No one goes into the pods fully clothed, or conscious.”

  I stared up at him, felt my face take on the semi-numbness of shock, and tried to get a hold of myself.

  Contract.

  Right?

  And Lomis dipped his head, in a single nod of acknowledgement.

  “No tampering with the product.”

  Well. That kinda settled it…maybe.

  “I can undress myself.”

  Lomis let go, and stepped back.

  “You want to turn around,” I told him, and he gave me a drop-jawed grin, full of wolfish amusement.

  “I did not come down in the last meteor shower. The pod requires bare skin. Do what is needed.”

  I glared at him, and the grin morphed into a growl that rippled through to bone. It was the fastest I’d undressed in my life, and the most uncomfortable I’d ever been.

  “Doctor,” Lomis said, when I was done, and Rakman stepped in. I glanced over at him, and caught sight of the auto-injector in his hand. My feet were moving before I could stop them, but Lomis tripped me before I’d gone more than four steps. It was not the first time I’d been pinned down for a shot. As a matter of fact, that part was pretty much normal.

  “I hate you,” I muttered, as the sedative took effect.

  “You’re going to hate me more when you wake up,” Lomis replied, and scooped me off the floor.

  The doctor was waiting beside the open pod as he dropped me in.

  I fought to stay awake, but it was a losing battle. Even so, I kept my eyes open long enough to see Lomis pull a jack from the toolkit at his belt, stayed awake for the time it took him to plug into my skull.

  Well, damn…

  9—Out of the Tank

  I woke to a sudden jolt of energy surging through my system, and couldn’t figure out where it had come from. I had a splitting headache, like someone had gone through and strip-mined my brain…and then I remembered Lomis telling me I’d hate him more when I woke up, and my stomach rebelled.

  Usually this was where the pod would stave off impending disaster by putting me under, and hitting me with something to counter the nausea, but this time it didn’t. Instead, it slid out and open and I sat up and threw up over the side.

  “Well, that was impressive.”

  “Abby?” and I didn’t say how relieved I was to hear her in my head, since it meant that the implant was intact.

  “Intact is one thing, sweetie, but you’re gonna have to get your files back. The wolf was very thorough in pulling them out of your head.”

  “He what?”

  “Did a first-class implant scrub,” Abby explaine
d.

  “Abs?”

  “Yes, sweetie.”

  “How are you in my head?”

  “Wolves don’t know everything about busting a link out someone’s head, or even finding one. You getting out of that box, or you going to wait for the doctor to do his rounds?”

  Points to Abs.

  She’d lowered the pod to the floor, and I was able to step out of it, avoiding the mess I’d made. My stomach rolled, again, and pain shot through my head. I put a hand on the edge of the pod.

  “You couldn’t have had the pod give me something for the pain?”

  “Sorry, hun, but he did a surface scrape as well, and pulled what thought and memory he could from your neural network.”

  “They can do that?”

  “It’s a Star Shadow specialty. They traffic the information in the Dark Net. It maximizes their profits from each contract.”

  I just bet it did.

  “So, no painkillers?”

  “There’s nothing here that will work, and you’re going to need what edge you’ve got, if you’re going to get through this.”

  “Okay, Abs. How about you spot me while I get my head together? What’s next?”

  “Next? Well, hun, you’re going to have to move so I can get Mack and Tens out of their pods—and you might want to clean that mess up so they don’t end up in it.”

  “Done,” and I headed for the corner where I remembered Doc keeping his cleaning supplies.

  The pods had shuffled down by the time I’d returned, and Mack had added to my creation. I stood there, mop and bucket in hand, and stared at it.

  “What was that you were saying about needing to clean up the mess?”

  “Point, Cutter. You want to get together with Mack and see if you can reopen your connection? You’re going to need it.”

  That last bit was a no-brainer. What wasn’t was the fact I hadn’t noticed that Mack had been blocked out of my head, even though his connection still existed. No doubt there was a file somewhere noting the connection, and recommending that my implant be replaced.

  “Where’s Tens?” Mack asked, and I rolled my eyes.

  “Hi, Mack. It’s good to see you. I’m fine thanks. Would you like to be able to get into my head, again? Or do you like the fact I’ve got my privacy back?”

  “Cutter?”

  “No, the Sainted Aunt Marie of Semiens Parish! Who the fuck did you think it was?”

  And he reached out like he was going to grab me by the shirt collar—which was when we both realized we were standing stark, staring naked in the middle of Doc’s medical center. I closed my mouth on the retort I’d been going to make, and watched Mack’s jaw hit the floor.

  I couldn’t work out why. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me nude before. Damn man had made me change in front of him, often enough—but only to make sure I wasn’t going to do a runner the minute he’d turned his back.

  “Yeah, and you keep telling yourself that, Cutter.”

  I turned around, looking for Tens. Looked like his link into my head had been totally unimpaired.

  “Give me a minute, and I’ll have Mack’s fixed, as well.”

  “Close your mouth,” I said, glaring at Mack. “You’re not looking so great, yourself.”

  His face flushed, and he closed his mouth with an almost audible snap.

  “And you’ve still got a mouth on you. How’d…” He stopped, partway through. “Tens?”

  I put the mop into the bucket and pushed them up against the wall opposite. I wanted some clothes. Body armor would be nice—and the nice extra-protective undies Abs had provided. If I was a wolf, confiscating my merchandise’s clothing, where would I put what I took?

  My eye fell on the incinerator. Oh, Hell, no!

  Fine! If I was a wolf, where would I keep my spare scrubs? I looked around the medical center, and couldn’t see anything more promising than the rows of stasis pods. I guessed I knew where I’d find Doc and his medics, if I needed them.

  “Abs?”

  “I’ll start pulling them out of stasis as soon as you and Mack have secured most of the ship.”

  “Done. I need clothes.”

  “And me,” came as a chorus from my captain and what the wolves had called his second.

  “What did they call me?” Mack asked, and I blushed and turned away. “Cutter…”

  “Suck it, Mack. Abs, where are my clothes?”

  “Your best chance at clothes is in your quarters. Unfortunately, they are already occupied.”

  “Give me a link to the ship, Abs.”

  “A please would be nice.”

  I thought about telling Abby she could whistle for it, and then decided that would be more than a little ungrateful.

  “Please, Abs?”

  And Mack finally joined the dots.

  “You kidnapped my retrieval specialist?”

  I got my link, and nearly missed Abby’s reply to Mack.

  “And you failed to make the rendezvous I needed.”

  I listened to Mack sputter, while I hooked into the ship’s scan system, and did a quick run-down of what life-forms could be found where.

  “Smooth, kid.” At least Tens sounded impressed. “Now, why don’t you let a professional show how you it’s done?”

  I sighed.

  “You can try.”

  And Tens sailed past me into the network, and rolled through the security systems, swearing softly himself as he wove past and through defenses that should have picked up his presence and rolled him right back out, again.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “My files,” and that was the closest approximation of a wolfish snarl I’d yet heard come from a man.

  The wolves. I looked at Mack.

  “We need weapons.”

  He looked back, looked me up and down, cast a glance over at Tens.

  “And clothes,” he said, and looked back at me, his eyes landing too low to be looking at my face. “We definitely need clothes.”

  I saw him turn his head, doing the same survey of the room I had, and then I remembered why I’d asked Abby for a link to the ship. Clothes.

  “Nearest replicator is over here,” I said, leading my way past the puddle of upchuckery Mack and I had left behind. And just why hadn’t Tens added to that pile?

  “I got the dosage right for him,” Abs said, her reply coming faster than expected.

  It was almost as if she’d been rehearsing it—and why would she have been doing that?

  “Never you mind, child. Your replicator is over that way.”

  A rehearsed reply, and a rapidly applied diversion. Well, well, well…

  “You have more important things to worry about than making my life interesting,” Abby informed me, her voice more clipped and precise than usual. “And you still owe me a favor.”

  I decided not to push it any further. The look on Mack’s face was priceless, given he’d just been privy to that conversation. I hoped he didn’t start poking things until we’d finished.

  “Clothes,” Abby reminded me, and I dog-trotted in the direction of the replicator she’d highlighted.

  Given it was further back in the medical center, I was hopeful there’d be no wolves in attendance—and then I decided hope wasn’t any kind of precaution. I slowed, found a corner and leant around it.

  “Two minutes,” I said to Mack, and vanished into my implant, using the security feeds to confirm that the replicator was in an unoccupied room. I also took the precautions of locking the door to the medical center and any other entrances. It was almost too easy to lock Rakman in Doc’s quarters, and do the same for the orderly who had taken over Halloran’s space. I tweaked the ship’s systems, and locked them out of those.

  “Good luck accessing anything in there. Suckers,” I snickered, and pulled up a second scan, trying to find what had happened to the rooms’ rightful occupants.

  A second scan showed t
he two men in the stasis pods in the same rack Mack, Tens and I had occupied.

  “Good to know,” Mack said, but he sounded relieved that we’d found them alive.

  I came out of my head, and pushed off the wall.

  “Way to the replicator is clear.”

  Tens came with us, even though he didn’t say a word, and I envied him the ability to stay in the system and still stay conscious of what went on outside. Whatever he was doing, he hadn’t finished yet, and I hoped it didn’t mean our files had already been transmitted.

  “Abs…”

  “I got it, honey.”

  That earned me looks from both Mack and Tens. I ignored them, scoped the room ahead, and hit the replicator before things got dicey. There was no way I wanted to be facing down any of the wolves in just my bare skin, let alone my former pack mates or the Hunt Master and his guards.

  “They’re on my ship?”

  Well, fuck, Mack. It took you long enough to catch on—and he reached out and gave me a clip upside the head. I might have had something to say about that, except I was too busy pulling a freshly-cooked ship suit from the replicator. I wished it would do boots, but I already knew nothing it produced would be worth my feet slipping on the decking. I was just going to have to work a clear path to the supply section to get myself another set of footwear.

  “And what makes you think there’ll be a pair waiting?”

  I raised my eyebrows at Mack as I stepped away from the replicator and slipped into the ship suit. I could have told him I’d checked the cargo manifest, but I hadn’t, and I didn’t want to lie. Whatever else I yanked his chain about, just how much snooping I did wasn’t one of them.

  He grunted something that sounded like ‘good to know’, even as he pushed buttons and set the replicator humming.

  “It’s my birthday, tomorrow,” but, when I checked, my implant showed a different date. “Oh.”

  “Oh?” and he looked and caught the same date that had made me feel weak at the knees. “Well, crap, Cutter. Exactly how long were we out, anyway?”

  He swung around to glare at Tens.

  “And where are we headed?”

  I kept getting dressed as Tens did the leg-work to answer Mack’s question. I could probably have found it just as fast, but I was busy. I had clothes. I needed shoes. I needed weapons. I needed—

 

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