by Skyler Grant
“Nobody has asked about sleeping arrangements tonight. Nobody curious?” Tamara asked.
“I figure I’m alone again,” Jinx said.
“Me too,” Dela said with a grimace.
“You two want to experiment, feel free to enjoy each other, but you’re both right. Taki, you’re with the captain. Time to work out the rough spots, you two. I’m with Kara,” Tamara said.
“Cards?” Melody asked, looking between Jinx and Dela.
“I’m in,” Dela said.
“Me too,” Jinx said with a grin.
“Shall we?” Quinn asked Taki.
“Yes, sir ... yes, I think we should,” Taki said, rising and pushing away her plate, “Thank you for the great dinner, Mel.”
Unlike the night before there was no kissing on the way back to Quinn’s quarters.
The sheets had been changed since last night and the bed made. Dela? No, probably not. Melody, most likely, although she wouldn’t have thought of it. It must have been Tamara’s doing.
Taki let out a low breath. “I thought this would be easier after last night.”
Quinn did as well, but if it were easy it would have happened a long time ago.
There was no way not to make it awkward, but there were ways to make it sincere. Quinn began to slip off his clothes, leaving them in a pile at his feet.
“Just going right there, are you?” Taki asked.
Somebody had to. When the last piece of clothing was on the ground Quinn turned to face Taki and looked her over. Really looked her over. Short, pretty, her body far more slight than the amount of kickass it contained would allow you to believe.
Quinn let himself think of the things he usually didn’t. The curve of her small breasts was visible through her jacket, and her lips. The response to those lips was predictable, arousal stirring.
Taki stared at the straining organ for several long moments before saying, “So, definitely think of me as something other than a sister then.” She slipped off her top, undoing the catch of her bra a moment later. Her breasts really were tiny, although her nips were particularly perky.
Taki finished undressing and went over to the bed, lying down on her back. Quinn made his way over, pushing a smooth thigh aside with his knee as he moved upon her and then inside of her. The fit was tight, enough that he worried he might be hurting her, but from Taki’s gasp of pleasure he didn’t think it was so. One of her calloused hands moved to his hips, fingers splaying and gripping his buttock.
“You back out on me now, sir, and I’m going to be really pissed,” Taki said.
“Maybe we should figure out something else to call me in the bedroom,” Quinn said.
“Maybe I’m going to call you whatever makes me feel comfortable than secure. You’re my captain, you’ll always be my captain, in this bed or outside of it. So sir, get on with it,” Taki said, her legs moving to wrap around his hips, her ankles joining behind his thighs.
After the last few days there didn’t need to be anything frantic about this joining, their bodies weren’t crying out for release. At least, at first. Instead there was just the slow and languid motion of two people who knew each other better than lovers and finding a new way to connect, a new way to come together.
That isn’t to say there weren’t surprises. Taki was loud. The normally quiet-spoken woman moaning with enough force Quinn thought all the ship must have heard it before she finally found release, her body thrusting against his even as his jerked against hers.
Quinn couldn’t help but compare it to the night before. With Dela everything had been comfortable, natural, easy. This hadn’t been easy, for all that he felt thoroughly spent in the aftermath.
Quinn moved to roll onto his side, but Taki kept her legs tight around him, moving with him so that he instead rolled onto his back with her straddled atop him.
“If you’re hoping for a round two, you’re going to have to be patient,” Quinn said.
“Sir, I’m done being patient,” Taki said.
The night was exhausting.
24
Sobek was busier than expected, and not in a good way.
As the Kathryn shimmered back into being after the jump through the Runestone Quinn immediately started to pick up Imperium vessels. A lot of Imperium vessels.
“Woah,” Dela said. Once again she was playing copilot. “It’s looking like the Core out there.”
It really was. Judging from the profiles Quinn would guess that there were twelve cruisers out there, thirty-some destroyers, and over one hundred frigates.
They weren’t in any sort of formation, although after a bit of study some patterns did become clear. There were eight distinct factions of Imperium vessels, each keeping its fleet together and separate from the others. The frigates were mostly near the local station and planet itself, watching over the merchant vessels that were a constant stream of traffic.
Quinn hit the comm. “Tamara, I need you on the bridge.”
Tamara was still shopping out of Quinn’s closets. The red and gold dress she wore today had been a gift from Quinn originally. Kathryn had acted delighted and never worn it again.
Tamara winced as she looked over the screens. “This isn’t good. How is our fuel?”
“We can get out of the system, but not to another port that might offer us a decent price on what is in our hold. Not with what we have aboard. I was hoping you could offer me some insight on what is happening out there,” Quinn said.
“I know your nights are busy, but have you been checking the data feeds? There is still no successor for the emperor. Right now all those with a hunger are waiting to see what the others do,” Tamara said, and jerked her head towards the view screen. “We knew Sobek did a lot of trade. What we didn’t factor in was how vital these factions might consider it to their interests.”
“Everybody is coming to defend their piece of the pie, and with every guest that brings guns to the table the next is bringing bigger guns,” Quinn said.
“Your metaphors are mixed but understanding is sound. A spark here, a spark anywhere, and this is a dangerous place to be,” Tamara said.
Quinn didn’t doubt that she was right. It was also unfortunate to have cargo sitting in the hold they couldn’t sell—cargo that most of their resources had gone into purchasing.
“I don’t see where we have a choice, not where we’re at. Once we get paid, how much will it cost to restore your data access?” Quinn asked.
“I’m already set up for emergency alerts, but you probably want warning before the general public gets them. Costly, doable, but my share of the take isn’t likely to be enough,” Tamara said.
“It can come out of the ship’s expenses. It’s for all of our protection.”
Tamara leaned in and brushed a kiss against his cheek, the briefest of gestures before she withdrew from the cockpit.
“That was weird,” Quinn said.
“The woman is balancing on a knife edge. Those implants were part of what made her special. Without them she’s been scrambling for something that matters—to be someone who matters. The Centauri thing might have kept her relevant, but if you think her side of things is easy you haven’t thought matters through,” Dela said.
“Didn’t know you two had gotten so close since she appointed you her second,” Quinn said.
“I just feel for her. She landed on her feet, but she still doesn’t feel like herself. You’re offering to give a part of herself back and show that you accept her at the same time. It’s kind of romantic.”
Quinn hadn’t meant it that way. The thing was he still didn’t like Tamara, not in the way he liked most of the other members of the new crew. Tamara could be cold, ruthless, and scheming, and he was always uncomfortably aware that not just was she smarter than him, but she was willing to use her intelligence to get her way. That said, some initial respect for Tamara had only kept growing. The ship was stronger for having her aboard, and he was stronger for having her in his life. That wasn’t romanc
e, that wasn’t love, but it was meaningful.
The Kathryn approached the station and received an incoming comm signal.
“This is Sobek Station control. All berths are currently full and we are running a queue. Currently that is around seventy-eight hours long. Do you have any guild or family affiliation?”
Over three days. That was a long time, an eternity when you feared how already tense the situation looked outside.
“Negative on the guild or family affiliation,” Quinn said.
“Business at the station?”
“Selling Selexis ore, then turning around and picking up luxuries from the market as well as refueling and repairs,” Quinn said.
It was more detail than he liked to give, but if any of the guilds had an interest in the ore it might get an earlier dock. It also never hurt to be considered a shopper for more than fuel.
It was a long period of silence.
“They forget about us?” Dela asked.
“Hopefully it’s a good sign. Doesn’t take time to say get in line,” Quinn said.
“Wanted to thank you, by the way, for offering me a place on the ship. Weirder than I expected, and still don’t know what to make of that, but I’m having way more fun than with Monk,” Dela said.
“I wonder how he is doing. Did you hear how Ice put him to work?”
“Guess they put him through some combat challenge. He took down four guys, so she gave him his own ship. Figured anyone that tough would put it to good use,” Dela said.
Monk had landed on his feet. Quinn wouldn’t have been happy being a pirate. Too bloody, and he preferred to rob from the guilty, but it might suit that man just fine. He certainly had the flair for it.
The comm bleeped. “We have three offers to pass on from the families. First, the Merchant’s Guild offers priority placement in the queue, estimated wait time twenty-four hours in return for an agreement to sell and purchase exclusively from Guild merchants.”
“Pretty good. We won’t get any steals, but still competition enough to see we get a mostly fair price on our cargo,” Dela said.
“Second is an offer from the Mercenary’s Guild. They offer an immediate military docking berth and, if your cargo checks out, one thousand a ton for the ore.”
“We get in and out, and that’s a nice profit per unit,” Quinn said.
“Probably a long hike back and forth to the shops from a military berth, but still better than the wait,” Dela agreed.
“House Senataro offers a berth in four hours at their house dock. Refuel and services of three house engineers for twenty-four hours. Offer of thirteen hundred per ton of ore upon inspection, with the requirement twenty-five percent of the proceeds be spent from the house catalog at standard prices.”
“That one I don’t know enough about,” Quinn said.
Dela was already tapping away at console keys, accessing the basics of the local commercial net. A swipe of her finger closed a cheerful noisy advertising jingle almost before it began.
“Senataro, holo screens, high-end audio equipment, mostly entertainment electronics aimed at a high-end market,” Dela said.
The comm beeped, awaiting a response. They could wait a bit, fair was fair.
“Doesn’t sound like what we need,” Quinn said.
“These bridge displays are antiquated and you know it, and I’m sure Tamara would find something to splurge on out of the family budget. I like the first or third offers the best,” Dela said.
The engineers were a big value. Melody was fantastic and didn’t actually sleep, for all that her nights lately were being kept busy. Still, there were only so many repairs you could make while in space. Every engineering hour while in port counted and the last offer, with three engineers no less, would give them a lot more.
Quinn hit the comm. “We accept the offer from House Senataro and look forward to doing business with them.”
“Acknowledged. Transferring you to Senataro control.”
There was a crackle and a new voice took over, friendly and upbeat after the other had sounded exhausted.
“Senataro Control here. We’ve got you slotted in four hours from now. We ask that you have your autopilot keyed to the incoming transponder signal. Docking privileges will be for twenty-four hours and you’ll need to launch promptly afterward. Have cargo ready for inspection and transfer upon docking, and we recommend you have orders for the engineers.”
“Acknowledged Senataro control. Keying to transponder now,” Quinn said.
As soon as the autopilot kicked in the Kathryn emitted a slow burn to join a line of parked vessels, waiting their moment for approach.
“I’ll let the others know what’s what,” Dela said, slipping from the seat and heading off.
Quinn wondered who the criminal players were locally. While he might prefer clean work to dirty, with this much tension in the system he was certain there were opportunities to be had.
25
The Senataro family was precise. Four hours later to the second the Kathryn’s engines kicked in under autopilot, the ship closing on the station. They bulk of the other craft were congregating around a large central ring, but the Kathryn was heading for an upper torus.
The dock was immaculate, with gleaming equipment and crew in perfectly matching coveralls milling about. Quinn lowered the ramp as soon as they were down.
A suited woman, in her forties and with severe features, was waiting. “Permission to come aboard and inspect your cargo, Captain?”
“Granted,” Quinn said.
They’d prepared the crates of ore in a line for easy unloading. The woman slipped on a glove and advanced from one crate to the next, passing her hand over each.
“Nice. Wish I had a scanner like that,” Dela said, arms folded as she leaned against the wall.
“Item LB4C3 from the catalog,” the woman said. “I’m pleased you accepted our offer. We don’t usually buy our ore direct, but the military lately has been going hard after the market supply.”
“I’ll have a look. Can it do combat scanning too?” Dela asked.
“It isn’t designed for it, but if paired with the L7 augmented reality monocle there is some third market combat software. Item AH7D9.”
“You’ve got those well memorized,” Quinn said.
“Augmented cortical storage,” the woman said.
“No need to recite the item number,” Quinn said.
“No longer in stock anyways. We got out of the market, wrong demographic,” she said. “Cargo checks out as promised, although you’re a little light in some of the crates. Total comes to three thousand seven hundred and forty four. Nine hundred and thirty six of that in credit for the house catalog. Would you like the rest in local credits or a Galactic Bank cheque? I recommend the credit if you hope to do any local shopping.”
“Issues on cashing out?” Quinn asked.
“People are nervous, there has been a run on bits. Bank is honoring all requests, but I doubt you’d get yours filled before liftoff,” she said.
Quinn didn’t like that at all. A cheque could be taken to any other branch of the Galactic Bank, but a lot of their reason for coming here had been to do some shopping. Local credit would let them do that, but they wouldn’t have hard currency for the next stop. They could turn over some goods they purchased here, but it wasn’t ideal.
“Local credit,” Quinn said.
The woman flashed a reserved smile. “Excellent. The line has been opened for you, sending details to your ship. I’ll send over the engineers and the loading team to get our goods out of your hold.”
Melody was in coveralls and a tool belt as she rushed out to meet the engineers, gesturing wildly as she handed them task sheets.
Tamara, Jinx, and Dela all left for the markets. Taki and Kara were staying aboard to help secure the ship. You could never be too careful, especially with strangers aboard.
Quinn for his part was headed towards the main port. If you wanted to find criminals the upper torus
of the city wasn’t the place. Well, quite a few of the wealthy were probably criminals, but not of the sort he could turn some quick cash on.
With a bit of reluctance he’d given Tamara permission to spend his share on his behalf. Twenty-four hours just wasn’t enough for him to be confident he’d have the chance to shop properly.
The working port was busy, crowded with crews disembarking and cargo being moved. Most vessels were freighters, including big ships owned by the major lines and smaller independent craft. There were signs of a criminal vessel if you knew what to look for, like engines larger than the ship really called for. Extra fuel tanks to help the ship make extended jumps. An unarmed vessel, but a well-armed crew, was another sign.
An hour of walking and watching, and Quinn had spotted several such ships, and made note of the most common destination of their crews at a nondescript-looking building on the edges of the market.
Quinn passed through the doorway, scanners flickering over him before an inner door hissed open. The scent of exotic spices filled the air, and what sounded like a lyre playing softly the distance. Couches were filled with women in a variety of gauzy attire, all shapes and sizes with a few aliens tossed in as well.
A statuesque redhead sauntered up with a swagger of her hips. “Hi handsome, I see it’s your first time here. Welcome to the Font. I’m Veca and I can give you the tour. You don’t have to pick me, but you won’t be disappointed if you do. I know how life on a ship can make a man all backed up.”
“Trust me, Veca, that is not a problem I’m having these days. I was looking to do business, but maybe of a different sort?” Quinn said.
Veca gave him a pout. “We prefer it if you do both, but follow me and we’ll get you checked out.”
Veca took Quinn’s hand and guided him between the couches, the girls giving him coy smiles as he passed. Then they were through a door in the back. Another scanner—this one left him blind for a moment as beams swept over his whole body.
“You’ll need to disarm. Pistol in the bin, knife if your boot as well,” Veca said.