Cosmic Cabaret
Page 19
“Pirates,” Astra said and winked at Bo, waving him into the circle.
“Crazy royal politics,” Bo stepped forward, placing an arm on both of their shoulders.
“We’ll face it together, as a family,” Zane finished.
THE END
The Adventure Continues…
in the Solar Flame: Stories of the Freedom Road.
Remember the petite blonde orderly named Benson that saved Zane? Otherwise known as Captain Jody Benson? She’s got her own book! Check out the Solar Flame series and...
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About Jayne Fury
One must always be prepared.
Jayne Fury was raised in New York by a Boy Scout and a flock of canonical penguins. She went to university in Rome, Italy where she developed her lifelong love of shoes. When she returned she promptly moved West because she’s left handed and claustrophobic. She has walked across Spain. Twice.
Shoes. Boy Scouts. Fowl. Preparedness. It’s all related.
The author lives on her urban farm in the Pacific Northwest with cats, velociraptors, ukuleles, all the yarn, and extremely tolerant husband. She has an unhealthy obsession for colored pens.
Jayne writes quirky space opera with a little pulp and a little romance. Her paranormal series is the lovechild of Bones and Cowboy Bebop.
Read More from Jayne Fury at
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Star-Studded Love
Rosalie Redd
A shy, exotic dancer and a lonely space trader discover love among the stars.
As an exotic dancer in LS Quantum’s Star-Studded Male Revue, Caleb performs for crowds of women, but not one can see beyond his debilitating speech impediment to the caring man inside. He keeps women at arm’s length until a sexy space trader flies into port and weasels her way into his heart.
Space trader Adara yearns to become a talent promoter, but in order to aid her sister, she signed an unbreakable contract with her captain. While on LS Quantum, Adara runs into the sexy, shy Caleb and must choose between her heart and her family.
One
A Durotang. Great, just great. Adara caught the guy’s arrogant gaze and stifled a groan. He wore grey slacks along with a bright yellow shirt, the signature uniform for the cargo inspectors on LS Quantum, the luxury interstellar leisure ship. That in and of itself wasn’t the reason for the groan. No, what really set him apart and got into her craw were the two unmistakable horns protruding from his skull and the attitude that went along with them.
He strode toward her, all muscles and testosterone rolled up in his sneer. His flat nose and thin lips, along with his broad forehead, accentuated the nastiness he projected. Even from this distance, the name badge on his shirt was unmistakable—Karl.
Adara scanned the other ships in Quantum’s cavernous bay. As part of the unloading process, any ship could be selected for a random boarding and inspection. Hmm…why was the Star Struck always chosen? She fisted her hand. Random, my ass.
“Are you the captain of…” the Durotang glanced at his communication tool, a small handheld device used to capture the elemental signature of their cargo, “…the Star Struck?”
Karl’s gaze rose to meet hers. Black as the vastness of space, his dark orbs focused on the birthmark on her forehead. Red, raised, and bumpy, the blotch stood out against her light olive complexion.
A chill ran across her arms, and she had to fight the urge to tug a few strands of hair over her eyes. Passed from generation to generation, everyone in her family had the mark. Most took pride in its sacred heritage. She, on the other hand, hated the ugly blemish.
With a quick flick of her wrist, she pointed to the letters painted on her ship. “The Star Struck. You’re at the right place.” She couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm from her voice.
He grunted. “…and you are?”
“Adara, the Cargo Coordinator—”
“Where’s your captain?”
She ground her teeth. “Captain Randall is a member of the Galaxy Deluxe Club and has already left for his room.” …and soon to the casino.
Randall had an affinity for dice and cards, in either order. As soon as they’d landed, he’d departed to start his gaming, leaving her to deal with the cargo delivery and the Durotang.
She pursed her lips. As space traders, they acquired and delivered all sorts of cargo, trading this for that and didn’t come here often. This time they had a shipment of medical supplies bringing a precious quantity of chilled Freonis to the luxury liner. She’d counted the days to arrival with an eagerness she couldn’t describe.
May Randall be successful. The longer he stayed on a winning streak, the longer their stay on Quantum.
“Ahem. I’m here for the inspection. Show me what you have in your ship.” Karl raised an eyebrow, and his dark eyes tracked down her body.
Her synthetic jumpsuit suddenly seemed a bit too tight. She gritted her teeth and forced a smile. “Of course, this way.”
He followed her into the cargo bay and lifted a lid on one of the containers. The hard plastic fibers creaked, grating on Adara’s nerves.
She pointed to the crates, each in turn. “Bio-fabrication printers, microscopic nanobots, and temperature-sensitive antibiotics.”
He strode down the aisle, scanning his device over the containers. “You don’t have any contraband, do you?”
She crossed her arms. “We aren’t pirates, we’re space traders.”
His lip curled at the corner, grim and predatory. “Glad to hear that.” He peered at his monitor. “These crates look fine. I’ll send a retriever with a hover board to unload your cargo.”
“All except this box.” Adara tapped a small package sitting on the cooling shelf. “This one contains the temperature-sensitive chilled Freonis. It’s scheduled for the crew’s med clinic. I’ll deliver it myself.”
His brow scrunched together. “I need to scan it.”
Her jaw tightened. She held his gaze for a long moment then stepped aside. “As you wish.”
He tracked his scanner over the box. A loud beep rang in the air, pinging faster and faster. In an instant, he silenced the noise. His nostrils flared. “Open it.”
She took a step toward him. “If I open that container, the warm air will get inside and destroy the contents. You don’t want to be responsible for that kind of damage, do you?”
A tic pulsed in his jaw. He rose up to his full height, towering over her. “My job is to—”
The door to the cockpit creaked.
“Hey, Adara, you need any help?” Cali, Adara’s best friend and co-pilot on the Star Struck, stepped into the cargo hold. She sauntered toward them, a pleasant smile plastered on her face as if she didn’t have a care in the universe.
Adara placed her hands on her hips. “Inspection underway. Fritz here…,”
Karl growled.
“…wants to see our chilled Freonis.”
Cali gazed up at the Durotang. Given she was a Unitonion, her short stature emphasized the disparity between them. “Are you new? We filed a content list before arrival.”
He glanced between her and Cali. Creases formed around his eyes. “Let me contact my supervisor.”
Karl swiped his fingers over his display. A brief moment skipped by then a short buzz rang in the air. He pressed his device against his ear and shook his head.
Adara ducked to avoid one of his long horns.
“I have a question about the Star Struck—What? No, I didn’t check the—” His brow furrowed, and his shoulders tightened. “Understood. Let them pass. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Adara raised an eyebrow. “Are we good?”
He exhaled, and the sound coming from his nostrils was like an animal’s snort. “You’re all clear. A retriever is on the way. How long is your stay?”
/> Well, that was the question of the day, wasn’t it? Adara shrugged. “Depends on how long our boss continues to win. Oh, and our cold storage reactor caused us some trouble. We’ve scheduled the Star Struck for some time in Quantum’s maintenance bay.”
Cali placed her hand on Adara’s shoulder and peered at the male. “Can you give us directions?”
His gaze raked over Adara once again, lingering a tad too long on her chest.
Bile rose in Adara’s mouth. “Ahem. Directions?”
His attention slid to her eyes. Menace reflected in his dark orbs. “Let me check.”
“You do that.” Adara spat the words.
He grunted then focused on his screen. “You’re expected on deck twenty-five, section eight. Park in spot nineteen.”
“We’ll be out of your hair,” Adara peered at the few strands between his horns, “uh, your way, in no time at all.”
He narrowed his gaze and pointed his finger at her. “I’m watching you.”
With a quick turn he departed, his yellow shirt fast becoming a beacon in the crowded dock. If she never saw him again, it would be too soon.
“You shouldn’t have antagonized him, but at least he’s gone.” Cali giggled, triggering a snicker in Adara, and their combined laughter filled the cargo bay. After the fit subsided, Cali placed her hand on Adara’s arm. “I’m so glad to be here. Two or three days are all we’ll get, depending on Randall’s luck, but I wish we could stay longer.”
Adara nodded, catching her breath. “Me, too.”
Her chest constricted. What would it be like to have a job where she didn’t have to travel? As a military brat, she’d roamed the galaxy, never staying in one place for very long. She yearned to settle down, make steady friends, develop roots, but that wasn’t in the cards…not as long as she was bound to Captain Randall through her restrictive interstellar contract.
He’d loaned her credits to pay her sister’s large entrance fee for the Intergalactic Medical School. If she broke the contract, not only would she lose her job and the income needed to contribute to her sister’s ongoing payments, she’d face jail time, and Prius would be dismissed from the program for lack of funds. That couldn’t happen. Adara had promised her mother, now deceased, she’d take care of her little sister.
Cali tugged on Adara’s sleeve, pulling her from her musing. “The stores here are fabulous. We need to shop.”
Cali’s outfit consisted of a tight pair of dark synthetic leather pants, matching jacket, and a white short-sleeved shirt. She rocked the speeder jet crowd nicely. Adara’s simple jumpsuit, drab brown and thin at the elbows, was in stark contrast.
Adara smiled. “That sounds fantastic. It’s been several galactic months since we were here last.” When non-guests stayed on Quantum, they resided on the crew level, could shop in the many guest boutiques, and enjoyed the crew’s amenities. “I also want to catch a few shows and swim in the crew’s pool.”
The pool…
A tremor rippled over her skin, and her heart picked up its pace. Memories of a tall, handsome man with dark hair and deep blue eyes crossed her mind. The last few times they were here, she’d seen him swim laps in one of the crew’s large pools. She couldn’t forget the strength in his muscular arms and toned legs or the dark sheen of his wet hair as he wiped the strands from his handsome face.
Despite his gorgeous looks, he’d seemed shy, keeping his distance not only from her, but from everyone else, too. He’d intrigued her to the point she’d thought about him more than she cared to admit. Would she see him again?
Cali’s boots clicked against Quantum’s smooth metal deck, pulling Adara from her reverie. “Meet up with you in the crew’s quarters?”
“I have to deliver this carton of Freonis to the med clinic first. See you there.” Warmth spread over Adara’s face. A swim…definitely in the picture.
Two
The smell of antiseptic and too much bleach assailed Caleb’s nose, burning the fine hairs. He adjusted himself on the edge of the medical bed, and his booted toe beat out a steady rhythm against the sleek, polished floor.
Releasing his breath in a slow, measured pace, he forced his shoulders to relax, to unleash the tension stored within his tight muscles. Easier said than done, but under sheer force of will, his shoulders loosened.
“Hold out your arm.” Cornelia Fin, the crew’s medical practitioner on board Quantum, held a bio-monitor between her fingers. With dark brown hair and skin to match, she regarded him with her yellow eyes.
She commanded respect and was his favorite doctor despite, or maybe because of, her no-nonsense attitude toward her patients. A smile crossed her features. “Relax, Caleb, we’ve been through this before.”
He extended his arm, and she placed the thin film over the inside of his forearm. The medical scanner extracted data from the oil on his skin through analysis of the base elements in the enzymes—blood pressure, white blood count, and cholesterol level, to name a few. A ball hardened and rolled in his gut. He hated doctor visits thanks to the many he’d attended as a child.
“Be grateful you’re not in here for a broken hand. Last time, I had to put in a nanobot to repair the bone in two places.” She exhaled long and slow. “There are better ways to deal with frustration than hitting something…or someone.”
Caleb glared at her, but she only pursed her lips. After years of teasing during his youth, he’d learned to lash back with his fists. If someone insulted him for his disability, a punch was what they deserved.
She withdrew the scanner from his arm, but her fingers remained. “Your vitals are healthy. I have no doubt you’re exercising and eating a well-balanced diet, but…” Creases formed around her deep-set, yellow eyes. “I’m concerned about your—”
He tugged his hand away from the coolness of her fingers. Adrenaline surged through his veins, and he wanted to bolt from the room. Instead, he stood slowly, forcing his muscles to obey his command.
The last thing he wanted was for her to sense how her words tormented him.
As he strode to the door, his boots squeaked over the polished floor. He yanked his shirt off the hook. The smooth material was a welcome balm, soothing his ragged nerves. He shoved one arm through the sleeve and then the other before whipping the shirt over his head. The tight material molded to his skin, clinging to the contours of his muscles.
With a cursory glance, his gaze darted to her pocket then met her eyes. The color of the brightest sun, the yellow expanded until her pupil was but a dark speck.
“What is it you want, Caleb?” She raised her chin, and her brow arched over those golden eyes.
Caleb clenched his jaw. Tension traveled down his neck and into his arm until his fingers curled into a fist. She knew exactly what he wanted, yet she wouldn’t give it to him, not until he asked for it.
“Come on, Caleb. You can do this. What do you want?” The lines around her eyes softened ever so slightly, but the steely determination remained.
He licked his lips. “G…give…m..m…meeee…” His tongue seemed three times too large for his mouth. As much as he concentrated, the words wouldn’t cooperate. “…my…c…cont…ttt…tacts.”
The _jaw pain radiated into his skull. He wanted to scream from the frustration. If only he hadn’t gone after that ball.
The memory slid through his mind just like his feet had slid out from under him. At age three his dexterity hadn’t matched the growth in his body, and he’d tumbled down the stairs, hitting his head against the metal steps in rapid succession.
All his years growing up, he’d suffered under his disability. It wasn’t until he’d joined Quantum’s Star-Studded Male Revue had he learned the truth. Yet, he refused to believe it. His attention returned to the doctor.
“Better, but I know you can do this on your own. As we’ve discussed before, the scanners show no signs of permanent damage. Your brain is as healthy as the rest of your body.” Her gaze raked over him, but her perusal was clinical, not sexual.
Doctor Cornelia reached into her coat pocket and pulled out his display-enabled contacts. The black case reflected the room’s overhead light, shining like a beacon. His fingers tingled. He wanted—no needed—his translation device.
The contacts linked to his brain-computer interface and projected his thoughts as an image onto his retina. His optic nerve perceived the image as words, and as with some brain-injured souls, he could read the words without stuttering.
There were only two places he ever took his contacts out, here for his semiannual physical and at the crew’s lap pool. Synchronized to the precise solution of his eyes, the device couldn’t get wet. If it did, the apparatus wouldn’t work.
If he lost his contacts, well…that would be a disaster.
He held out his hand once again, his fingers shaking like an addict awaiting his favorite drug. She placed the case in his palm and curled her fingers around his. “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, these contacts are a crutch, Caleb. You don’t need them.”
He opened the case and popped first one lens than the other over his eyes. Tension in his shoulders drained away. Using his brain computer interface chip, the one implanted in his cerebrum, he sent his thoughts along the neural pathways to the device.
The words scrolled across his vision like a ticker tape reader, the kind found outside the arena announcing special dates and times of performances. He opened his mouth and read the words.
“If I’m healed as you say, why do I still stutter?” Even reading, the words came out a bit stilted, unnatural.