“Nach Zero-Three copies. Flight of three ready to launch,” Blazer replied.
“Nip Tail Zero-One copies. Flight of three ready to launch. Nachs cover our backs, Nach Six, let me show you why bomber pilots are the real heroes.”
Gavit just smiled and made his final preparations for launch. “Ready Matt?”
“On it. You really going to let Deniv show us up?”
“Won’t have to. He’ll call for us to pick any fighters or turrets off for him like the little critch he is,” Gavit laughed.
His status board went blue before his Crew Chief gave him a thumbs up. All hands on deck sealed their suits, and the pressure doors for their hangar slammed shut. Gavit returned the gesture and the plate his fighter sat on jerked out a few metra before spinning around. The outer doors were already opened to space.
He found himself outside the ship, sitting on the hull like a buzzer on a neigh in an instant. To his right, one of the ship’s massive engine nacelles sat beyond a turret emplacement. The stars around him were epic, inviting him as the navigation course lit up his holographic Heads Up Display. He lived for this.
“Ready Flights,” the flight controller called out. “You are cleared for immediate launch and slipstream. Good luck and may the Bearers hold you safe,” he called out. It was a traditional reference to the species’ fifth gender. An otherwise neuter being, the Bearers carried clutches of immature young within a series of body pouches.
Hydroponics Lab 6, Farm Sector
Zithe found it amusing that the ‘privateers’ the others had been sent to intercept were little more than kids out for a joyride. Zipping about in an old patrol boat, they’d wandered into the path of a bulk freighter and had collided with it. Zithe almost wished he’d been on alert stand-by instead. It had been ages since he’d arrested anyone. Now that he was off shift and his mission for the next cycle submitted, approved, and briefed, he could relax. Yet something had him antsy. To that end, he’d followed his nose after a familiar scent - plant life.
The smell of fresh plants seemed out of place on the warship. There was one smell in particular though that he had to lay eyes on to be sure. His nose led him down to the onboard farm sector. Every section was stacked to the rafters with hydroponics bays producing a variety of plants, edible and oxygen producing.
Zithe had known this zone existed, but he’d had no idea that it was so extensive. Most long duration ships would place the gardens as an afterthought and they would always end up in the gap between their inner and outer hulls. In that way, they could grow massive amounts of tailored crops. They were nothing compared to this, however. Combined with the water reclamation and protein recycling plants it meant that the Wolfsbane could be truly self-sufficient for several annura at a time. He’d seen colony ships that were less well appointed.
He sauntered up and down the aisles, amazed at what he saw as robotic attendants tending to the plants. He soon came upon one of the smells that had drawn him, Anulian Wolfsbane. He hadn’t seen the plant in person since his last visit home, before he’d graduated from the academy. To be in its presence again was almost intoxicating. He spied a stray aphid on the plant and reached out to pluck it free. The insect, or its egg, had likely hitched a ride aboard the ship in a cargo shipment.
“Do not touch that bug!” a woman’s voice called out, full of authority and strength.
Zithe looked up, his eyes going wide. She was stunning. Her ebon skin was of a similar tone to that of the captain, her flowing black hair mesmerizing, and her yellow eyes enticing. Yellow eyes: she was Anulian, and Lycan. Zithe stood up, proud and tall. This was a strong woman, a true wolf and her ungloved hands showed no sign of a wedding knot. “It looks like the flower will bloom soon,” he said, motioning towards the plant. Time spent with his cousin might not have been wasted after all. First the real Alieha wanted her trade stamp to move goods for the pack, and now this female Lycan botanist.
“It will,” she replied and looked him over with a cool, calculated eye - a hunter sizing up her prey. “Keep your eyes in your sockets flyboy. Recognizing that a plant is about to bloom is not so impressive.”
Zithe thought it was, but kept his demeanor calm, impassive. As she approached, her own smell mixed with that of wolfsbane and became overpowering. He hadn’t encountered a Lycan female since the Gorvian campaign, and she’d been a matriarch, far too old for him. This one however, she was young, fit and in her prime, and exuded such lovely pheromones. Not only that, she smelled of fertility, driving him to a level of sexual hunger he’d rarely felt before. “I meant no intrusion,” he said looking at the plant. “It has just been so long since I’ve laid eyes on the mother stalk. It reminded me of home and running with my pack.”
She took a deep sniff as she approached, and smiled. The look was even more alluring than Alieha’s. Were he a lesser man he would have had to cross his legs, but Zithe knew control. “A Lycan? What Pack?” she asked, drawing in close, her voice taking on a sultry hint.
Zithe turned back to her, she was close enough to grab, to ravage on the bed of flowers if he so desired. Where did that thought come from? She was driving him to distraction. He almost wanted to back away, instead he took half a step forward. He pressed out his chest, better to boast and show his strength. “I am Enerian, Pack Zithe. Second to my cousin in succession by choice, first in trial by combat.”
She raised a curious arching eyebrow. Zithe studied every follicle as it moved, her lip as it turned up, and her eyes as they narrowed. He wasn’t sure how long he could control himself. “So, you’re Enerian Zithe. I’d heard that you were coming aboard. Did you inherit your pack’s love of botany?”
He wanted to show her just what he’d inherited but held himself in place. Instead he allowed a slight air of cockiness to wash over him. “Yes and no. I hold to the older ways, but know my way around a farm and its plants.”
“Your Pack’s ability to transform devastated worlds is amazing. You’ve breathed life back into over a dozen desiccated planets. It’s amazing and, I understand, a closely guarded secret as to how.”
Zithe nodded. Even he didn’t know the ins and outs of the technique his forebears had developed. His cousin had made prime use of it however as the new head of the Pack, bringing great fortune to them. “So, I am led to believe. My path took me here however. And to you.”
She blushed and turned away for just a moment.
He had her. He had just to say the right words. “But you have me at a loss. You know more about me than I do you. And I want to know more,” he said smiling enough to reveal his teeth. Had he had hair; his hackles would have raised.
“Sidlee, Sidlee Sardenon.”
All the blood rushed from Zithe’s extremities. His hands dropped to his side and he took a step back. “I see.” Fooling around with the Captain’s daughter, even if she was of legal age, was sure career suicide. No matter how much she enticed him.
Her smile turned down, but knowing. “I see he already got to you.”
Zithe said nothing. He didn’t want to appear weak.
“I’m a civilian, Officer Zithe, but a full Confederate. What I do with my time is up to me. It cannot hurt the careers of anyone with whom I choose to associate. My father knows this. I also go swimming on the Rec. Deck at the end of third shift every cycle. If we should happen to cross paths there, no one could say a word.” She turned and walked away, her hips swaying.
He felt himself stir again. He wanted nothing more than to transform and take her in their wolfen forms. No one could blame them if they allowed their wolfen instincts to guide them. Instead, he turned and left. He had a swimsuit to pick out, and many abdominal exercises to bang out. He would win her as a man.
UCSB Date: 1005.129
Rec Deck, UCSBS-Wolfsbane, Teblin System
With Vashko appearing secure Wolfsbane had moved onto the Teblin System. Unsubstantiated reports there had indicated that Galactic Federation probes had been spotted in-system. To that end, the Monstero Nac
h were scheduled for patrol duty, but first came exercise. So, as the Wolfsbane drifted between the planets, Zithe churned the waters of the pool.
For Zithe, the crystal-clear waters of the pool created a place where he could cast the rest of the universe aside. There was nothing but him and the water, the buoyancy, the resistance, the sound in his near silent movement. He prided himself on not splashing while he swam. He dove beneath the water again and extended his hands. His fingers grazed the side of the pool and he emerged for air. He knew Lodran who disturbed the water more than he did.
He looked around. One other person occupied the pool. She had no compunction against making noise as she swam with all the speed she could muster. For her this was just an exercise, for Zithe it was meditative. He took a moment to admire the lines of her form-fitting competition swimsuit. He felt himself stirring. Sidlee had that effect on him like no other woman before. He slammed his eyes shut, and taking a great lungful of air, dove beneath the surface.
He swam to the bottom of the pool and sat on the smooth veneer. Down this deep, the pressure felt good, the water muffling Sidlee’s strokes. Despite that, he could still hear her every movement as he cleared his mind. There was a rhythm to her movements that served to calm him as he reached down into his center. He cast all thoughts aside, subdued all emotions. Focus had to be on control, on slowing his heart, on limiting his oxygen consumption. The sounds of the swimmer above shifted, changed. She stopped midway across the pool, trod water for a moment, then dove beneath the surface. There was a kicking sound, then nothing but blessed silence. Then lips met his.
Zithe emerged from his meditation, let out a torrent of air as he succumbed to the kiss, to his baser urges. Grabbing her wrists, he pulled her close. The pair floated towards the surface, grinding against one another. There was no thought, just animal passion as they remained entwined from lip to ankle and floated to the surface past the point where their lungs burned for air. They broke surface and gasped in lungfuls, but Zithe refused to release his hold of Sidlee. He had plenty of time until he had to report for his flight, and Captain’s daughter or not, she had made her intentions clear. He would deny their passion no longer.
Sidlee slipped from his embrace, and swam for the side. Zithe gave chase, a hunter after his prey. So intent was he on her that he hadn’t noticed the pair of booted feet waiting at the side until he came upon them.
Shocked, he looked up to find Alieha looking down at him, a wry smile on her lips. “Why Officer Zithe, what a scandal this could be? You and the Captain’s daughter. Sidlee - how could you not tell me?” she asked chiding the pair.
“He’s been playing hard to get,” Sidlee replied with a smirk and pulled herself out of the water, a blast of frigid air evident as she sat beside Alieha.
Zithe did his best to regain his composure, but remained in the water. His erection strained against his own skin-tight swimsuit and he dared not risk it slipping out. “We would appreciate your discretion.” He motioned towards Sidlee as she lounged under the UV lights in the ceiling. “I think neither one of us wants to become fodder for the ship’s rumor mill.”
Alieha looked to Sidlee.
She nodded, a knowing smile on her face.
Alieha took a knee beside the pool. “You got it. To business then.” She pulled a case out from behind her and set it between them. “I just finished talking to your cousin. He has agreed to our deal, so I am meeting my end of it.” She opened the case to reveal a sheathed sword. “As agreed, a monomolecular blade sword.”
Zithe almost salivated at the sight. This was no display piece, but a weapon of war. The two-handed instrument was three metra long by his eye, with a rear sweeping edge and dog-toothed tip by the look of the jet-black sheath. The silver, blue, and gold pattern in the exposed metal indicated several grades of drokarium had been used in its construction. Zithe reached up and slid the feather-light blade out half a metra to reveal more. To his amazement, both the front and back edges were sharpened, with an unnecessary serration at the base of the back edge. A scale pattern ran up the fullered center and flowed into a shark tooth at the front and back edges. It was gorgeous and elicited gasps from him and Sidlee. “A Drokarium Damako. I haven’t seen one like this in ages.”
“It was a custom job. I still can’t believe Moltdren backed out on the deal, but it’s yours now. Just be careful with it,” she pointed to the sheath. “There are nanos in the sheath that reform the edge down to a single molecule in width whenever you unsheathe it.”
Zithe nodded and sheathed the blade. “Thank you. How did you convince him?”
Alieha revealed a crooked smile. “I kept my ears to the market and explained your situation. I then told him how I knew that storms on Vendit Four, one of the worlds you have a farming colony on, trashed all the harvesters when a lightning strike hit the supply shed.”
Zithe nodded, remembered something about that in his mother’s latest message.
“Your cousin requires a veritable fleet of class three harvesters to meet the demand. The thing is, his normal supplier can’t get him even one until 189. The harvest is set to begin on 149. Without the harvesters, they’ll lose a good portion of the crop.”
“What did you tell him?” he asked, suddenly suspicious.
“I have a supplier that could get him half the class three harvesters he needs by 145, and can make up the rest with class fours, all at half the going rate. They’re all in good working condition, just older, refurbished models.”
“Practical, good. Can you really deliver?”
Alieha didn’t look taken aback, more that she looked upset at the possible insult. “Yes,” she replied, the word dripping venom. “But, I’ll have to leave this cycle if I want to make the delivery date.”
“Does Arion know?”
Alieha looked over at the main area of the gym, and sighed. “I’m about to tell him.” She stood up and brushed off her legs, splashing a few droplets of water back into the pool. He and Sidlee watched her leave, her shoulders slumped compared to how he was used to seeing her.
He turned back to Sidlee; a curious eye raised as she stared down at him. He looked back to Alieha for a moment as the door closed then back to Sidlee again. “That was nothing. I’m not interested in her that way.”
Sidlee smirked. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were.” She looked out the glass towards Alieha as she walked towards Arion. “I’d be happy to share her.”
Zithe felt his composure begin to wane again: Sidlee’s pheromones were driving him mad with lust again. He reached over and placed his hand on hers and stared up into her eyes. She met his gaze, smiled. “You need to put that way,” she said, pointing to the case.
“Yes, I’ll take it to my quarters.” A thought crossed his mind. “You could come with me.”
Sidlee’s smile went crooked and she leaned in, kissed the top of Zithe’s hairless dome. “I’ll follow in five pulses. Move!”
* * *
Arion could read that Alieha had bad news the moment she’d left the pool area. He continued his run around the track until it closed on her and jumped off, sweat glistening on his forehead. Alieha just looked him up and down with a wry, approving smile. He closed in and began to lean in for a kiss when a drop of sweat rolled off his nose and onto the floor. He thought better of it and stood back up.
“The Sheol!” she replied, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down for a kiss.
Arion drank in the caress of her lips. For once, he didn’t care about the impropriety inherent in the public display of affection. He was, after all, off duty and out of uniform. He pulled Alieha in close, her scratchy jumpsuit scraping against his skin. Though he’d yet to make love with this, the real Alieha, memories of the biodroid copy came back. He reached behind her neck to tickle the back of her ear. Alieha gasped and cooed. “Oh I’d forgotten that you know all my spots already. I just need to learn yours,” she said between heady breaths. She pushed Arion back and looked up into his eyes, sadness in he
rs.
“What’s wrong?”
Alieha’s face went serious. “Business. I have an important deal I need to oversee on behalf of your hairless friend.”
Arion looked back at the pool. Zithe was nowhere to be seen, but the dark-skinned woman who he swam with ran from the room, a towel wrapped tight around her body. “I see. How long will you be gone?”
“Two decles, at least, assuming I don’t line up any other jobs.”
Arion felt his hearts sink and it must have shown on his face.
“This is my life big man. But I will be back.”
Arion nodded. “I know, but we just started to really get to know each other. And I have so much more I want to find out about you.”
Alieha pulled Arion towards an alcove. “We’ll have all the time in the universe for that. Trust me. But there is something I have to ask you.”
“What?”
Alieha fished her macomm out of a pocket. Arion couldn’t help but wonder why before she opened it and a familiar scene came to life. It looked just like the message Three had left him, and by the time-stamp, she’d recorded it right after her message to him. “Three sent me this before she died.” Alieha cued it ahead to a particular point. “There’s a lot here, but this is the important part.”
The playback resumed and Arion had to steel himself to watch it. “...and Arion. We got into a fight. He doesn’t want me to pilot one of the decoy transports. I won’t go into the details, but Alieha, if I can draw away the Gorvians, if I can get them to come after us so that the others can escape, even if it costs me my life, it’ll have been worth it. I know this can’t be easy to hear. I’m not suicidal, but I’m just a machine when it comes down to it after all.”
Hell's Razer Page 17
