The Flower of Lanaar

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The Flower of Lanaar Page 4

by Jay Aury


  Without any warning there comes the punch in my gut as the gravity mine goes off. There's a flash, a blur in the darkness as a shape seems to bulge out of nothing. Accordioning into itself, the silver bulk of a science vessel lurches into reality. It's a fat, unwieldy craft of sleek silver and chrome. The sort of thing made for frequent trips to the surface of worlds and lift offs. But turrets bristle from every side like a startled porcupine, betraying the value of its cargo. Only its underside is free, owing to the need of landing gear.

  It tilts, stunned by the shock of being yanked from the faster than light travel. But it won't last long. Even as I watch the engines flicker with an attempt to boost them back to life.

  I grin and grasp the flightsticks. I activate my stealth module, hoping the ECM gear I paid for actually works. I jerk the controls, sweeping my little fighter below the behemoth of a science vessel as it attempts to right itself. I’m in my element now. I grin, chewing my gum avidly. I jam a thumb into a trigger and fire a single seeker missile at the engines and follow it in at a distance, icing the turrets on the back end with short, precise bursts of my forecannons.

  Shields crackle to life across the bulk of the vessel a second too late. Satisfaction fills me as the missile impacts the ship, blasting the engine. Fire and shrapnel billow from the rear of the craft and it tumbles crazily. My radar shows a dark bulk as Thale moves his Ravager in for the kill, but he's a distance yet. Auxiliary thrusters burn across the silvery ship, a turret swinging toward me. Red lashes the void as it fires a poorly aimed salvo, missing me by a mile.

  I weave through my stiletto through the tracers and hit the turret with two short bursts, reducing it to glowing slag. I flick the flightsticks, rolling my fighter under the science vessel. "Rear approach is clean. I'm attaching to the underside. Let me know when to detach,” I radio Thale. I grapple my ship between the landing gear of the science vessel and don't wait to hear back. I check my suit seals, knock on Sirrin's box, and blow the seal on the cockpit. As the atmosphere vents, I release my harness and fire a tether onto the hull of the ship.

  A pleated doorway shows the airlock against the side of the craft. A remaining turret turns, outlining the entrance as it fires an ineffectual blast at the looming pirate's ship. I ignore it, pulling myself to the underside of the vessel and to the door. I gesture to Sirrin and point at the access pad.

  Sirrin crawls across the surface of the ship like a lizard. He pauses before the pad, his face masked in a rebreather which stretches from his jaw to his cybernetic eyes. He tail brushes aside his coat, leaving it fluttering in the void, and stabs into the access pad. There's a spark, and the door opens with a hiss of misty oxygen. Sirrin grabs the edge and swings himself through the door.

  My breath rasps in my helmet as I let the tether I launched reel me in and use the momentum to follow him into the ship's gravity envelope. My feet are drawn to the floor and land with a clang. Sirrin waits by the second door. He touches it with his hand and it slides open. Oxygen billows out. There’s a scream as some poor sod comes out with it. I catch a brief glimpse of a horrified face, then he's gone, tumbling through the void, curling in on himself even as a crystal sheen of frost coats his body.

  Sirrin ignores it, as he does the force of the decompression and slides inside like a fox into the coop.

  A fail safe seals the door behind me, ending the pull of decompression. A sterile white corridor that twists into the interior of the ship opens before me. Doors make indentations on the walls. I catch a glimpse of Sirrin's tail as he slips about the corner of one. I keep my pistol drawn, scanning for targets and hurry after him. Inside is a small storage room filled with flat looking durasteel cases. Sirrin is already moving on. Slumped against the wall is another man in white, his eyes wide and staring in surprise at the massive hole punched in his chest.

  I move past him, trying not to think too much about the mounting body count. After all, I probably iced a couple unlucky people in the engine compartment with my seeker. I keep my helmet sealed and move as quick as I can behind Sirrin. I know it will take Thale longer to get grappled with his larger ship, but time is still very short. The next room is a dark space filled with the pinprick red lights of diagnostic machinery. Sirrin suddenly shoves me against the wall, pressing himself over me. His coat seems to shimmer, taking on the texture of the darkened computers filling the room. His narrow chest presses against my plump breasts, his groin rammed against my own. For a second I think he might be looking for a quick fuck. But a moment later there is a clatter as a dozen men armed with pulse rifles race by, all wearing the chrome armour of ship security and the featureless smooth combat helmets. They never even look our way as they race by.

  "Mmmmm, adorable AND useful," I murmur, pushing my hips against him.

  Sirrin gasps, and I feel his hardness grow against my leg. "M-miss Hayes, please..."

  I lean in my helmet and press a kiss against the glass. "Better get moving or we'll get caught with our pants down. Literally." I gently push him off of me.

  Sirrin swallows and does so. He spares a glance down the corridor, then sweeps down the opposite way the soldiers came,

  The remainder of the corridor is deserted, but Sirrin seems to know where he's going. Soon enough we reach the end of a hallway. A door stands before me, its glass misted with humidity. Sirrin touches the panel, and it opens.

  Almost immediately my visor fogs. I hastily wipe it clean and find myself looking into a vast botanical room. Strange plants are held in suspended animation behind glass cases. Lamps glow with the red light of a dwarf star overhead.

  And at the end of the room, is the box.

  It's exactly as Desma described it. A simple box with tinted black sides wrapped in a durasteel frame. It’s held with a magnetic seal to the podium it rests on like some strange idol in a temple of silver and greenery.

  The ship trembles suddenly. I know that feeling. Thale has secured the science vessel. Any second now he'll begin cutting his way into the craft, and kill anyone who gets in his way.

  "We have to move," I say urgently. "Get this thing off the pedestal. We are getting out of here. I'll cover you." I take a position kneeling behind some decent looking cover in the greenhouse and aim my pistol at the door. I don't want a gun fight with Thale. Even with Sirrin, I doubt I'm coming out of that fight alive.

  Sirrin dashes forward and grabs the box. He slams a hand against the magnetic lock, unsealing it. He cradles our prize tenderly against his chest, turning about and joining me at the door.

  Just in time. I hear the distant sound of shouts and the crack of las and plasma fire as the two crews engage somewhere in the belly of the ship. I hurry out of the room and back the way we came, taking each doorway to the best of my ability. I'm not usually fighting on my feet, my aim isn't great, but I splurged on some skill chips to give me an edge. At least I feel like a boarding commando. "What is it?" I hiss at Sirrin as we leapfrog from door to door, pausing and checking, sweeping my gun down the next hallway before moving on.

  "Something from a Blacked Out world," he whispers, his voice soft in my radio. "Hazard level seven. Incredibly dangerous, even if you do land. Anyone found leaving a world like it is under a death sentence."

  "Sounds like we're under one now too, one way or another." I keep moving. "But you didn't answer me. It's from a Blacked Out world, it's dangerous, but what is it, Sirrin? Don't lie to me."

  He hesitates. "A...a plant. From a world called Lanaar. Mistress uploaded me with all that's known about it. It's a predatory world. Nothing can be taken off of it lest it spread. Things from such a planet can change genetic sequence to enable it to breed with other life forms."

  The news is chilling. But also oddly titillating. Don’t think about it. Focus, I berate myself. Time for fucking later. It’s with relief I find us at the emergency hatch we entered through. "Here," I say, gesturing to it. "Through here. Thale is going to realize he's been double-crossed any second, so get that hatch open."

  Sir
rin nods and passes me the box. Turning his back to me, he fits his fingers to the edges of the hatch. There is a snick as thin blades sprout from his fingertips and he begins to peel the hatch off of the plating of the ship. His coat shimmers, automatically adjusting to the colour of the metal.

  He freezes at the sound of a thud, becoming invisible against the wall. A corpse falls out of a nearby doorway, silvery body armour cleaved cleanly through. I swing about in surprise and suck in a breath as Thale pushes through after the body, grinning. His sword hums from the cutting beam pulsing along the blade. A moment later he turns and spots me. His dark eyes light up with pleasure. "Zera! There you are. I was looking all over the ship for you. And..." He trails off, staring at the box in my grasp. He breathes in sharply through his teeth. "You found it!”

  He lets out a sudden bellow of laughter, sheathing his blade as he walks towards me. "I knew you'd be useful on this job! We'll be rich with this thing!"

  I hold it out to him, feeling cold. "Wasn't sure if this was it or not, but it looked fancy. I figured it was either it or something almost as good."

  I wait until he reaches out to take it from me, and then I blast him at almost point blank range with my pistol hidden under the box.

  Thale's look of pleasure fades to one of shock. He stumbles back, looking down to the smoking ruin that is his chest. "O-oh," he gasps. His arms wrap about his stomach as if to hide his injuries. His legs give out and he falls to his knees. "Oh..."

  Numb, I walk over and put one more shot through the face of his helmet. I look down at the corpse of the pirate. "That... didn't feel good." I mutter. I turn back to Sirrin. "Get the fucking hatch open. Now."

  The wall seems to shimmer, then opens. A wind picks up as the limited oxygen aboard is sucked out into space once more. Sirrin slips through the hatch, his expression inscrutable through his mask. The decompression picks up Thale's corpse, tugging the pirate across the floor. Limply, he is lifted out of the hatch and into space, tumbling away into the oblivion beyond.

  With mechanical efficiency I secure to the tether and kick off the deck plating, using the edge of the hatch as the fulcrum to swing myself back to my ship. Once we're back inside, I seal the cockpit and detach. No point sneaking out of here. Before activating my light speed drive I pop around the rear of the ship and fire my three remaining seekers at the grapple point between the science ship and the Ravager. Probably won't be enough to destroy either ship, but it should make a big mess and leave them tangled up like a couple of fighting dogs. I hit the light speed drive and accelerate to the rendezvous point.

  The explosion of the two ships fade behind me as space seems to bend, stars extending into long streaks of white light. As the pressure of light speed eases, Sirrin's mask retreats from his face. He takes a slow breath and places the crate against the floor. Its presence makes the normally one man cockpit rather tight, but Sirrin is flexible enough to manage to wriggle around it.

  "Open it," I tell him, cracking the seal on my own helmet. "I want to see what I just wasted one of my only friends in the void for."

  He gives me a startled look. "I...Mistress ordered me not to..."

  "Damn her," I mutter. "Show it to me, Sirrin. I want to see this precious plant or whatever it is."

  He hesitates, but then nods. He presses a small pad on the side. There is a hiss and one of the opaque windows slides open.

  I lean forward, examining it. Inside is a bulb about the size of my head. Bright green petals are drawn up. It sits on a small tangle of vines like some tiny meditating idol. As soon as the door opens, a sweet, pungent scent fills the small space of the cockpit. As I catch the first whiff of it, I feel a sudden desire to take another sniff. It's pleasant. Strangely so.

  "That's nice," I say, softly. The tension of the battle seems to bleed away. The sight of Thale’s smoking corpse already fading from my thoughts as I breathe in again. "I'm not sure what all the fuss was about though. Just a flower. That..." Leaning closer I take a deep breath.

  The edges of the plant peel away revealing a pink interior. Stalks wave a little, peeking out like teasing fingers. The scent grows stronger. Deeper and headier. A tingle courses across my skin in a wave. Chafing at the normally comfortable flight suit I wear. I bite my lip as my nipples harden and a faint ache begins in my core. Subtle but insistent.

  "...Miss Hayes?"

  I’m suddenly acutely aware of Sirrin. His scent mingling with the sweetness of the flower. He smells faintly of oil and lubricant, but in there is sweat and something else. Whatever was done to his genes in that tank of his mistress's gives him a curious chemical smell. Something alluring like a deep perfume. The metal irises about his eyes swivel, adjusting. The air seems to have grown thick with the scent.

  "Miss Hayes. Your pulse has increased significantly and your temperature is rising. Are you alright?"

  "I... I think it's this plant," I say breathlessly. My body burning. "It's having some sort of effect on me." I know I should close the case, but I lean down again, the stalks brushing against my face, leaving behind a powdery residue as I inhale its scent again. The ache spreads across my body. My tight flight suit almost painfully stifling. My chest heaves as my breath deepens, clit throbbing and underwear clinging to my folds.

  "I should close it," Sirrin says and reaches for the panel. As he moves I get another whiff of him. He reeks of maleness now. There's a silent but insistent pull towards him, my body drawn towards the slender young assassin. He smells of steel. Of blood. A killer, cold and strong. My heat beats faster. Head spinning.

  I unzipper my suit and kiss him with a sudden hunger. "Oh, Sirrin," I gasp against his lips. "I need you. I need your hard cock. Ohhhhh... god." I quiver with lust as I shuck the suit down my body and below my waist, explsing my glistening cunt and the round plumpness of my ass.

  He gasps, dropping the case. As it strikes the floor it releases a sudden cloud of spores. "M-miss Hayes! Wha-mmmph!" I silence him with my lips. He trembles against me, uncertain. I force him against the wall. His coat splays out behind him, his slender chest mashed beneath my heaving breasts, trapped by my womanly curves. I push my hips push against him and feel his length harden, the tight fabric all that separates me from his throbbing cock.

  He grabs my shoulders and pulls me from his lips. The whipcord strength of his arms, powerful enough to break my arm, but he tries not to hurt me. A sudden pang of lust courses through my body. I want him. I need him. To crush him under me and fuck him raw. To take his cock and his seed. Smother him beneath my tits. This killer. This lover. This perfectly made machine of death, yet so unused to pleasure.

  "I need you inside me," I moan against him, desperately stroking at his cock through his trousers. I fight to get it out. I fight to have his warm length in my hands. I don't stop kissing him, even as I am moaning for his dick and rubbing my tits against him, I keep kissing. Tasting.

  He gasps. "M-miss Hayes. Please I-" He yelps as my fingers find the band of his pants and pull them down. His cock springs free, pale in the white light of slip space. He trembles with desire, unable to resist. The plant continues to breathe its spores, tinting the room a strange pinkish hue. He grabs my ass, his fingers sinking into the plush and pliant flesh.

  I put one foot up on the arm rest of an acceleration couch and guide his tip to my slick entrance. I look into his glassy eyes as I jerk my hips and rub him against my steamy pussy. I can only hold back for a moment before I thrust forward, swallowing up his hardness with my eager cunt. "Ohhhh, Sirrin," I moan, my body on fire with lust. I wrap my arms around him and fuck against his cock, taking him down to the balls with each stroke of my hips. Whining with pleasure like some animal in heat.

  He arches, moaning. The grunts of our mating echoing in the cockpit. His fingers dig into the plush flesh of my ass. His face is an expression of anguished pleasure as he struggles to resist how my wet folds slide up and down his length. How my clutching channel clenches about him. "Oh...Oh goodness...Z-Zera," he moans, helples
sly rutting against me.

  My buttocks flex as I thrust onto his cock, my hips moving and my pussy dripping copiously down his shaft. I've never been so overheated in my life. I suck at his lip, thrusting my tongue, sweaty with desire, face flushed with the pleasure and the passion of it. My orgasm rises quickly and I whimper softly against his lips, fucking against him as my inner walls clutch at his cock in rhythmic waves of pleasure.

  He pants, my sweat staining his shirt, my juices oiling his cock. I feel him tense, trembling with orgasm. "O-oh. Ohhhh!" he cries as he cums, shooting his seed into my hungry womb. My body answers. Grows hotter than ever. My nipples stab me with pleasure. Quiver with need.

  There's a faint dampness. My breasts feel heavy. Swollen even. My hips throb and ache about his hands. My ass clenches. He kisses back, desperate for my taste. He clings to me wantonly, surrendering at last to the glorious pleasure. He's still hard despite cumming, thrusting up into the superheated depths of my cunt. "Oh Zera. Oh Zera," he pants through the spore laden air.

  I slip him out of my pussy for only a moment, turning and offering my creamy channel to him as I flop over the back of my own pilot’s chair. I raise my hips, bouncing on my tiptoes, making my ass jiggle and shake as I whine, "Fuck meeeee. I need it. I need your cum. More cum inside me."

  "Mistress will be so cross," he gasps even as he gently parts my flush cheeks. But he will not enter me dry. He leans forward, pressing his face against my bum, and I’m reminded again at his oral skills. Trained to kill and to pleasure, his tongue drives against my clutching star, ass quivering about his face as he prepares me.

  "Ohhhhh!" I reach back and grab a handful of his hair, practically mounting his face with my ass. I buck against him, squeezing his tongue with the throbs of ecstasy in my tight little asshole. His fresh cum dripping from my swollen cunt.

  He drives his face in deeper. His cybernetic implants are a shock of coolness against my heated cheeks. His tongue delves inside, sucked in by the pulsing ring of muscles. My ass quivers with helpless pleasure as he tenderly kisses my rump.

 

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