by Tamsin Ley
“Did I? I’m not so sure.” She wrapped both arms around his chest and dug her heels into his backside. “I think we need to try again.”
“Your nanites?”
Only a momentary pause, then her luscious mouth spread into a grin. “Gone.”
Qaiyaan tilted his head to meet her lips, his heart soaring. His cock had fifteen years of celibacy to make up for.
Lisa sat at the galley table, trying to pay attention to the crew’s conversation about the cartel ship now sitting in their hold, but even with Qaiyaan seated at the opposite side of the table, she couldn’t keep from touching him. She slid one bare foot up the inside of his leg until his hand caught it near his crotch.
His face remained impassive, but he pressed the ball of her foot against his bulging erection while he spoke. “How much can we get for it? We need to fix our hull.” His gaze met hers, lust simmering beneath the surface. “We have precious cargo aboard.”
Lisa felt every eye in the galley fall on her. She flushed, still uncomfortable with their awe. “You guys need to stop doing that. I’m just another member of the crew.”
“A loud member.” Noatak smirked at her.
The heat in her face intensified, and she tried to draw her foot back, but Qaiyaan held firm, massaging her arch with one thumb. His cheek twitched with mirth. The bastard was enjoying her embarrassment. She muttered under her breath. “Damned thin-walled ship.”
Tovik nodded, his copper face flushed with iridescent blue-green. “Noatak, I’d be happy to put up a hammock for you in engineering. The engines help buffer the… noise.”
Now Lisa’s face felt like it was about to burst into flames. She’d never been prudish about her sex life, but she’d also never had a group of men so focused on it. These guys needed women of their own. She turned to Mek. “How are the nanites doing?”
The mood in the room sobered. The physical changes the nanites had made to her body allowed her to be with Qaiyaan, but now her nanites were gone. She was no longer a source for additional samples. With only a few remaining vials in existence from her previous tests, the doctor worried there weren’t enough to continue his testing, let alone enough to create new, compatible mates.
Mek shook his head, his gaze sliding away from hers. “I’ve not been successful in culturing more of them. They need a host.”
Tovik leaned forward. “So we go find some hosts.”
Noatak thrust a restraining palm toward the younger man. “Slow down, Tovik. You don’t want to end up with just any random woman.”
“There could also be side effects to the nanites themselves.” Mek scratched at one stubbled cheek. “I just don’t know enough, and we have a limited supply for testing.”
Lisa sat up straighter, this time successfully pulling her foot free of Qaiyaan’s grasp. “Doug has nanites.” The only thing that had remotely intruded on her new infatuation with Qaiyaan was the knowledge that her brother was alive and in Syndicorp hands. “When we free him, we’ll have all the samples you need.”
“I thought he didn’t tell you where he was?” Noatak said.
“I can still hack into the darkweb, even without my nanites. That’s where I’ll pick up a trail to the Syndicorp lab, I just know it. I only need access to a boosted console.”
“I can boost our array pretty easily,” Tovik offered. “I already stripped a bunch of the comm webbing off the cartel ship.”
Qaiyaan flinched. “You did what?”
Tovik drew his shoulders up to his ears and grimaced. “And I accidentally fried the control hydraulics when I tried to incorporate the secondary stage burners into our forward drive.”
Noatak dropped his chin and shook his head. “At least you didn’t blow the Hardship’s systems.” Sighing, he stood. “Well, let’s get Lisa set up on a console.”
“Cool your jets, everyone.” Qaiyaan rose. “The darkweb is a sketchy place. I don’t want to put Lisa in any more danger. You know how important she is to me.”
Noatak turned. “She’s important to us all, Iluq. And she’s the only one with a plan at the moment.”
Lisa stood and wrapped her arms around Qaiyaan’s solid waist. “I’ll be sitting at a console. No nanites involved. I’ll be fine.”
He enveloped her in his amber-scented embrace, shaking his head. “We can’t go anywhere until we get our hull fixed.”
“You’re just making excuses.” Lisa tilted her head to look up into his face. “There’s no reason I can’t start looking into the darkweb while you do the hull repairs.”
“Last time I went outside to look at the hull we almost all died.”
“So you’re just going to not look at it ever again? That’s no solution.”
Tovik threw both hands into the air. “Listen! That’s what I was trying to tell you guys. The hull’s all good.”
“How?” Qaiyaan asked.
“I sort of borrowed most of the plating off that cartel ship.”
The other three men groaned in unison. Noatak slumped against the doorjamb. “Is there anything left of that ship to sell?”
“The hull needed fixing.” Tovik shrugged and looked sideways at Lisa with a wink. “And I needed to go outside for some peace and quiet.”
Lisa grinned back at him, pressing her cheek against Qaiyaan’s solid chest. Tovik was feeling more and more like a little brother by the moment. Doug was going to get a real kick out of him.
"There're some pretty good parts left to sell," Tovik continued, and began rattling off flux modulators and other parts, ticking each item off on his fingers. "Although I want to save the fuel matrixes for a fixed acceleration project I've been working on."
Qaiyaan’s voice was low and gruff, but Lisa could sense amusement behind his words. “Tovik, one of these days we’re going to have to start charging you for your little science experiments.”
“My experiments have paid for themselves almost every time.” Tovik crossed his arms and scowled. “I get no appreciation around here.”
Lisa released Qaiyaan, sliding a hand down his arm to entwine her fingers with his. “Then I guess we’ll start looking for Doug?”
Qaiyaan’s fingers tightened around hers. “Let’s go kick some Syndicorp ass.”
THE END
Keep Reading for a Sneak Peek of:
RANSOMED by KASHATOK
Coming February 2018!
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Ransomed by Kashatok
SNEAK PEEK
Joy faced the cantina’s dirty restroom mirror, gripping a hunk of her curly brown hair in one hand and scissors in the other. Behind her, a wall-length screen flickered with an ad for inter-alien contraceptive products, haloing her with eerie green light. Just do it, she thought. Hair grows back, no big deal. Except that her Syndicorp CEO Mother was already less-than-thrilled about her taking up reporting, let alone going undercover. On the other hand, if Joy could blow open a pirate ring with a RealTime TV exposé, Mother might finally give her new career some credit.
Never one for tailored pirelux silk clothing or a closet ful
l of shoes to match every outfit, Joy’d toned her wardrobe down even more than usual for this job. Her canvas cargo pants and mechanic shirt were boxy and genderless, and she’d even gone so far as to wrap her breasts to mask her curves. Her editor had hinted at how sensational the story would be from the perspective of a prostitute, but Joy had no desire to demean herself that way. Besides, she had tools other than her tits to secure this story.
Taking a deep breath, she squeezed the scissors. Her long tresses fell away with an oddly satisfying sensation. A lopsided reflection stared back at her with startled brown eyes. No going back now. Her square jaw wasn’t quite manly, but she was plain enough that with the right attitude, she could pass for a boy. And she’d already proven she had attitude doing a year of volunteer work for Syndicorp’s planetary emergency services division in their fleet mechanic shop. Joy’d loved the hands-on work and the smell of hydraulic fluid and hot metal before Mother learned she wasn’t handing out cookies and pulled her.
Satisfied with her hair, Joy pulled mascara out of her purse and dabbed it beneath her nails, rubbing it into her skin for good measure. No one trusted a mechanic with clean hands. When she was satisfied, she once again looked into the mirror, winking her left eye to engage her cybernetic camera. A recording of her reflection would make a decent, gritty opening scene for the exposé. One benefit of having a Syndicorp CEO for a mother was that Joy had access to technology other newbie reporters would die for.
“I’m at the edge of unclassified space, looking for information about pirate activity. These ruthless men and women have been plaguing the shipping lanes since Syndicorp sent its first colonization envoys outside the Alleigh system.” Joy spoke in a husky, conspiratorial tone, glancing over her shoulder at the restroom door. The chances of someone entering were slim to none with the hotel door grav-loc she’d placed against the door stop, but her pulse beat loudly in her ears even so. “Stay tuned as I go undercover into the swashbuckling world of black market trading and deep-space piracy—bleh.”
Sighing, she stopped the camera. She sounded like a game show host. Everything about this broadcast had to be perfect. Serious. Anchor-worthy.
She tried again. “My informant just sent word there’s a notorious pirate in this very bar. I’m going to try to join his crew. For the next few weeks, I’ll be broadcasting the RealTime stories of these men.”
The door rattled. Joy quickly cached the recordings on her polycom to edit later and removed the grav-loc, brushing past the annoyed Saluqan woman outside. “Watch it. Door sticks,” Joy mumbled and dove into the crowded cantina. She had a pirate captain to find.
Captain Kashatok pried Jhikik’s tail from around the bottle of Kantarellian rum and poured himself another tall serving. Onboard ship, he often drank straight from the bottle. For the purpose of interviewing new crew members, he was attempting to look civilized. He had enough rough edges on his crew, and attracting yet another discipline problem was not in his plan today.
The little netorpok chittered at him in reprimand and climbed up his arm to sit on his shoulder, his lavender fur tickling Kashatok’s ear. Jhikik had come into his possession as a pup, and, much like a real child, liked to nag him about his vice. “Keep it down.”
Too late. A woman who’d been perched on a stool at the bar was heading in his direction, her sizable cleavage jiggling above the low neckline of her tight blouse with every step. Happened every time. First she’d fawn over the netorpok, then turn her attention to the broad-shouldered owner. Women loved a man with a pet. And Jhikik loved the attention.
“There’s a reason I never leave the ship,” Kashatok muttered, glowering at the woman. Female company was never on his agenda and never would be.
Thankfully, the oncoming woman took the hint and veered toward the restrooms. Kashatok rose from his chair and scanned the dark interior of the cantina for his first mate’s shaggy head. Aleknagik was supposed to be escorting prospective shuttle mechanics to the table for interviews. Across the dimly lit floor, cantina patrons parted like an outgoing tide around the tall, copper-skinned Denaidan. About time he found someone. Settling back into his chair, Kashatok downed the rest of the rum in his glass. Aleknagik pulled up to the table and stopped.
Kashatok scanned the conspicuously empty space around to the big man. “Well?”
Aleknagik shook his head. “Word’s gotten around what happened to our last mechanic.”
The muscle in Kashatok’s jaw tightened. “And?”
“No one’s exactly excited to be the next one tossed out the airlock.”
“I have one hard rule. No women aboard my ship.” Not only that, but what the mechanic had been doing to that poor female deserved retribution. Kashatok grabbed the bottle and wrapped his lips around the mouth, taking a long pull of the burning liquid.
Sliding out a chair, Alek sat heavily and leaned forward, both elbows on the table. “Listen, I understand why you made that rule. But with those nanites Captain Qaiyaan found, we might be able to change that. Plus your non-Denaidan crew members might appreciate some leeway.”
Kashatok gritted his teeth. There’d never be a woman for him, nanites or not. He couldn’t be trusted, not after Kiana… He took a calming breath. Anyone who’d known her was dead and gone. And it was none of Aleknagik’s business, anyway. “No. My ship, my rules. If someone’s not okay with that, they can get the fuck off.”
The first mate frowned but kept silent. The Kinship operated with a core crew of Denaidans, none opposed to the no-females rule, but the big ship operated best with a few extra hands on board. And the galaxy wasn’t exactly swimming with Denaidans to fill the spots. Syndicorp had seen to that.
An olive-skinned human appeared just past Aleknagik’s shoulder, wide brown eyes darting between the back of the first mate’s head and Kashatok. The moment their eyes met, Kashatok felt a jolt, a desire to protect that was at odds with the hard-assed captain he tried to be. The kid reminded him of his own first insecure days off planet, seeking jobs in seedy cantinas just like this one. The visitor moved up beside the first mate, both hands shoved deep in the front pockets of his baggy cargo pants. “You’re looking for a shuttle mechanic?”
Aleknagik twisted in his seat, eyes nearly level with their visitor’s. “You know one?”
The young man stretched a hand forward. “Name’s Joey.”
“You?” Aleknagik laughed.
Jhikik leaped from Kashatok’s shoulder onto the tabletop. Kashatok snatched hold of the tip of the creature’s tail, drawing him up short. Not everyone appreciated the creature’s curiosity.
Turning to Kashatok, Aleknagik jerked a thumb toward Joey, eyes dancing with mirth. “What do you say, Captain? Think this qumli could hold his own among our crew?”
The kid was barely old enough to leave his mother’s teat, let alone stand up to a rowdy crew. Kashatok sent out a tightly-controlled ionic pulse. Alcohol dulled his sensitivity, but he could still assess the kid’s heartbeat, breathing, and skin temperature. Joey was nervous, for sure. But his hands were dirty, and the look in his eye was hungry. Would it hurt to let him have his say? Kashatok pushed the rum bottle forward without accepting the handshake. “Have a seat.”
Dropping his hand, Joey pulled out a chair and sat. He didn’t touch the rum. They locked gazes and Kashatok had to hand it to him, the kid didn’t look away. “You don’t seem old enough to be a mechanic.”
Joey shrugged one shoulder. “Only been at it a year, but I’m a fast learner.”
Kashatok retrieved the bottle and tilted back for a long swallow. May as well let the kid see the real him. “You familiar with the CrossX Spacer Elite?”
“Sure.” Joey tilted his head and squinted his eyes in thought. “I helped with a thruster rebuild. And adjusted the flux coil on one of the newer models.”
“Huh,” said Aleknagik, nodding. “Where’re you from?”
Joey scowled. “Why’s that matter?”
Aleknagik dropped his bearded chin to glower back. Jh
ikik crept forward, eyes on the stranger.
“What?” Joey crossed his arms. “Pirates don’t have pasts. Or they shouldn’t.”
Kashatok repressed a smile. This kid might just be capable of holding his own after all. He stroked his fingertips along Jhikik’s long tail until the little creature spun and batted at his hand. “You heard about our last mechanic?”
The young man’s left eye twitched. “Tell me.”
“Space-locked.” Kashatok paused a moment. Joey’s heart beat so rapidly, Kashatok barely had to engage his ionic senses to feel it.
“By you?”
Kashatok nodded slowly, keeping eye contact. “There’s only one unbreakable rule on the Kinship. No women on board. Think you can handle that?”
Joey took a long breath and let it out slowly. “That’s all? Sounds easy. What’s my cut?”
“Ha!” Aleknagik clapped the young man on the shoulder, rocking him forward. “I like him!”
Joey kept his gaze on the captain.
For some reason, Kashatok hadn’t expected the mercenary question, probably because the kid had seemed more interested in the adventure than the money. “Probation gets you one share. Things work out after the first score or two, we’ll talk more.”
Nodding, Joey once again thrust out his hand. “Deal.”
This time, Kashatok took it. The palm was softer than he’d expected, but maybe that was just a human thing. “We’re parked in slip A21P. I’ll be pulling out as soon as we’re restocked, so I suggest you get your ass aboard sooner rather than later.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
Alek laughed again. “We don’t say that, human.”
Joey licked his lips, and Kashatok found the move oddly disturbing. “Sorry,” said the kid. “I do call you captain though, right?”
“I don’t care what you call me, as long as you do your job.” Kashatok rose, grabbing the rum bottle and holding out an arm for Jhikik. The netorpok gave Joey a longing look, then skittered up to rest on Kashatok’s shoulder.