by Jenn Burke
No one had asked where the blueprints came from.
“This whole meeting idea is just creepy.”
“Aye,” Elias agreed. “But if this sees an end to hostilities, then it’s all good.”
“You’re a born optimist, aren’t you?”
Elias halted and turned toward him. “That meant as an insult?”
Maybe…but as Felix reconsidered his statement, he realized it wasn’t. Without hope, he wouldn’t be standing here either. “Nope.” He offered a smile. “I think it’s why we’re friends.”
Elias ruffed a hand over the top of Felix’s head. “Might just be, yeah.”
Ruhi’s looked as if it had been transported from Ashushk Prime. Misty windows ballooned outward into the station concourse, and the holographic lettering over the rounded door had a distinctly purple cast. Inside, holos of seascapes played over every surface, illuminating both ashie-style puffball furniture and regular booths flanked by half-breed benches. The effect messed with Felix’s equilibrium until he separated the solid from the ephemeral.
There were three exits—the one behind them, one in the kitchen, and another at the end of the hall leading to the bathrooms. Felix checked that none of them appeared to be blocked or otherwise guarded. So far, so good. Still, he rocked his ankle in his boot, feeling for the reassuring presence of his knife.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Their host was an ashushk of advanced age. It wore a diaphanous robe that might or might not be culturally inclined. Either way, the soft violet color suited the ashie’s light blue skin.
“We’re meeting a client. Mr. Salataje Nynt,” Elias said.
Should have asked for the Grand Moth.
Their host produced a familiar wrinkled smile. “Of course, if you will follow me.”
The ashushk led them to one of the booths—not the most secluded. As they approached, two figures rose. One, Felix recognized as Nynt, the other…
“Holy shit.”
At his whisper, Elias stopped. “What?”
“That’s the woman from Risus.”
Elias squinted through the shifting holo imagery. “I think you’re right.”
Shit, why was she here? He’d nearly killed her—only Zed’s strict adherence to his “mission protocols” had stopped him.
“Captain Idowu.” Nynt’s dark gaze flicked sideways. “And Mr. Ingesson. Thank you for joining us. Allow me to introduce you to my daughter.”
He said a name, but sound disappeared beneath the thunder of Felix’s pulse. Heat rushed beneath his skin, prickling his cheeks and the back of his neck. His ears burned. His hands were fumbling for his stunners, the hidden one, the obvious one. If he could get a shot off first—
“Fix!” Elias’s hiss poked through the swish of blood and adrenaline.
Nynt’s daughter had her hand extended, her empty hand. She seemed to be waiting for something. When Elias elbowed him, Felix eased his hand off the stunner at his belt. He glanced up at her face, at her dark and flawless skin and wide, unrepentant gaze, and saw himself reflected. She did not want to be here, at this meeting. The silence stretched thin. Just before it snapped, Felix realized they were all waiting for him to shake her hand.
He put his palm to hers. Cool flesh moved gently against his before her hand withdrew, quickly, the shake being little more than a formality.
Nynt appeared satisfied. “A much more peaceful greeting than last time, yes?”
Did the guy not know he was a crook?
Nynt and daughter returned to their seat, a long framed pillow that molded to their posteriors, ashie-style. Elias stepped up to theirs, and again Felix hung back. Everyone turned to look at him.
“Ah, I’m sorry, I missed your name,” he said to Nynt’s daughter.
“Thamani.” Her voice recalled the night on Risus and a chill crawled down his spine. He took his seat, but perched near the edge, refusing to let the pillow hug his ass. He wanted to be up and out of there if necessary.
“Okay, now everyone knows everyone.” Elias tapped the tabletop. “Can we get to business?”
“Of course. Your time is precious, hmm?” Nynt’s face changed. He morphed from gracious host and doting father to the man Felix had expected to meet. The man who called himself the Grand Moth and did not care how ridiculous the title sounded. Eyes like flints, jaw hard enough to sharpen steel. “After the incident on Xihe, it was my decision that we stop pursuing recompense. Quite simply, chasing you across the galaxy has cost me more time and money than I could ever hope to regain, and I am a businessman, after all. Your mercy toward my soldiers only cemented that decision. It was clear to me that you also desired a truce, an end to the bloodshed.”
“Then how do you explain Risus?”
If possible, his features sharpened further. “That action was not sanctioned by myself or by any cartel officer. I take responsibility for my daughter’s mistakes, however, as a father must. The attempt to kidnap your pilot and crew was ill-conceived and has destroyed any relationship we might have had with the colonists. That the AEF had to be called in to clean up the mess…”
Thamani squirmed in her seat.
“Yet you spared my daughter’s life—” dark eyes bored through Felix, “—humbling me further.” His attention shifted to Elias. “That, Captain, is why I insisted we meet in person. So that I might properly express my gratitude.”
Smart retorts piled up on the tip of Felix’s tongue, but he swallowed them all. Now really wasn’t the time for him to be himself.
Nynt turned toward his daughter and inclined his head. Thamani fiddled under the table. Felix tensed, his hands diving toward his weapons again. Beside him, Elias stiffened, hand moving to his thigh holster. Thamani put a small object on the table. The indirect light of the restaurant ghosted the surface, making the rounded stone glow. It wasn’t until the holos shifted, a bright scene landing across the table, that Felix could actually make out what it was. Not a stone, a spherical gem four centimeters in diameter. The milky surface was wreathed with purple streaks that looked familiar…
“It’s Ashushk Prime,” he murmured.
“Yes.” Thamani picked up the gem and held it out to him. “This is a gift, for your pilot.”
Felix opened his palm and the small globe fell into his hand. It was warm.
“Thank you,” Elias said. “Qekelough will appreciate the gift.”
She would. Qek would love it.
“I have also arranged a delivery of ashushk wine. Something all your crew can enjoy.”
Elias gave Nynt a crooked smile. “We have no gifts for you, sorry.”
“None expected, Captain. But, perhaps our gesture has put you in a mind to negotiate the terms of our truce.”
Wow, it really sounded as if Nynt wanted to deal. Giddiness circled Felix’s gut once more. He closed his hand around the gem and tucked it into his deepest utility pocket. If things went south, he wanted to make it out with that, at least.
Nynt produced a wallet, and after projecting a holo over the table, one that competed with the seascapes floating past, he laid out his terms. A cessation of hostilities, given they respected Agrius territory, which meant they would not enter or conduct business within certain systems. As Felix watched Nynt block out a small area of the galactic map, he wondered why the man would share the borders of his territory. He quickly decided those borders were probably already well known. Agrius wasn’t a startup.
Elias leaned back. “Excuse me while I confer with my partner.”
“Of course.”
Elias tapped the small panel recessed into the side of the table, activating a personal dampening field. It could be expanded to provide privacy for the entire table, or sized for just one or two people. He dialed it wide enough to include Felix. “What do you think?”
“Honestly, Eli, I’m not sure what the fuck to think. This is utterly surreal.”
“I know. I keep expecting people to jump up from behind every table and point weapons as us.”
&
nbsp; “What do you want to do?”
“I think we should accept the deal. I’m not quite sure what Nynt gets out of it, but for us it means not having to watch our backs.”
“You sure about that?”
Elias lifted one shoulder in a quick shrug. “No, but we can see how it goes, right?”
Day by day. The phrase floated up from memory, pulling a small smile to Felix’s mouth. Zed would take the deal. He’d investigate further and he’d prepare for contingencies, but he’d take the deal—because that was how life worked. Day by day.
“Let’s put our thumbprints on his map and get out of here.”
*
“Here’s to a truce with Agrius.” Smiling, Elias lifted his bottle of beer.
“Hear, hear.” Zed clinked the neck of his bottle against the captain’s and glanced at Flick, letting the relief that they’d returned safe roll through him once more. He’d been convinced Agrius was going to double-cross them, and even though it had turned out well, he was happy to leave Nezha Station behind.
“While we’re toasting…” Ness shot a grin in Zed’s direction. “Here’s to Zed. We missed you.”
Zed looked down at his cards, jaw clenching. Before more emotions could swamp the crew, Flick cleared his throat and piped up, “And here’s to Qek not having three testicles.”
“Thank you, Fixer. Though it was nice to see my homeworld again, I am grateful it was just a visit.” Qek dealt the cards and rearranged her own as the rest of the crew anted up. “However, your comment brings to mind a question I had for Zander that complements the discussion we had on Risus about human and alien sexuality.”
Elias kept his eyes on his cards, but a smile crept over his lips. “Oh, this should be good,” he said in a not-quite whisper to Nessa beside him.
Qek clicked in agreement. “Did the Guardians reveal anything about their reproductive—”
Zander choked on a mouthful of beer. “Whoa. Stop. No. I can’t go there. I really can’t.”
More clicks, the sounds confused now instead of happy. “I just imagined that with their telepathy, their connection might be intensely pleasurable.”
“Uh…” Zed wiped a stray droplet from his lips. “Maybe? But I didn’t think about it. I didn’t ask.” He looked around the table, at the curiosity shining in the eyes of his crew, and put his cards down. “Look, they lived in my head for two weeks. It was…not intrusive. Weird, right? You’d think it would be. But it wasn’t. It was warm, and comforting, and…unconditional. Like having my nana patting my head as she praised me.” Okay, that was a little more personal than he’d intended, but the description was dead-on. “So I don’t really want to think about Nana having sex.”
Wrinkles formed and smoothed on Qek’s face. “What is a nana?”
“His grandmother,” Flick supplied. He chuckled. “I don’t blame you, man.”
“Oh.” Qek clicked, considering. “Yes, I suppose that would be exceedingly awkward.”
Zed eyed the pot and picked up his cards again. Ness folded immediately, but Elias, Qek and Flick were still in with him. And the way Flick was hunching over his cards let Zed know he had something good.
Never go pro, love.
“Two weeks’ latrine duty,” Zed bet. Qek made a note of the bet on her wallet, as she did for all of the chores thrown into the pot.
“Oh, fuck, I’m out.” Elias tossed down his cards.
Qek clicked and looked at Zed, then at Flick, before placing her cards gently on the table. “I fold as well.”
Flick stared up at Zed and Zed met his eyes without flinching. He knew how to keep his expression flat, even in the worst of combat. Facing down Flick over a poker table was simple.
“I see your two weeks of latrine duty,” Flick said. “And raise you one call to your family.”
Zed’s façade cracked. “Not fair.”
“All’s fair in love and poker.” Flick shrugged. His green eyes caught Zed’s, sympathy spilling from their depths. “You know you have to do it.”
“We’re heading to Earth anyway, so I should just…wait.”
“And let them think for another four days that you’re dead?”
“I don’t want to do it over the comm.”
“Zed.”
“In person would be—”
“Zed.”
“Fuck you, Felix. Just…” He clenched his jaw. “Fuck you. I call.”
He knew that he’d lost before Flick flipped over his pair of aces to match the one on the river. Zed tossed his cards, his limbs suddenly filled with nervous energy. Feeling as if he were channeling Flick, he let his leg bounce and stared at the table.
“You’ll be with me?” He meant it to come out as a demand, but his voice rose plaintively on the last word.
Flick left his seat and rounded the table. Steady, familiar hands cupped his shoulders as Flick leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. “As long as you need me, Zed,” he whispered. “As long as you need me.”
“Well, that’s gonna be forever.” Zed offered a quick, halfhearted smile. He needed Flick at his side for this. Elias, Nessa and Qek too. The call was one thing, but seeing his family in person and witnessing the aftermath of everything he’d put them through…He was going to need help with it. A quick glance around the table, taking in everyone’s sympathetic looks, told him that his crewmates understood. They’d be there for him, through whatever came—just as they had been on Chloris and Ashie Prime.
Zed drew in a shaky breath and his smile strengthened. “Time for another hand. I owe you an ass-kicking, Felix.”
“Bring it,” Flick said, returning to his seat.
As the mood around the table lightened, banter and friendly taunts coloring the air of the mess, the ache in Zed’s chest eased. There was home…and there was home. No matter what happened on his call to Brennan later, or what happened on Earth, he had a team again. Folks who had his back.
There was no better feeling in the world.
*
About the Author
Jenn Burke
Jenn’s always been drawn to weird and wonderful stories, particularly those set between the stars, or juxtaposed with our normal, boring world, or…well, just about any of them, really. Her love of the written word prompted her to get a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature from the University of Ottawa, and she’s spent the years since working in corporate and web communications—and dreaming up weird and wonderful stories of her own. A self-confessed geek, Jenn loves spending time in the worlds of video games, surfing her favorite websites, reading all the romance novels she can get her hands on, and accumulating an impressive collection of nerdy T-shirts. She currently lives outside of Ottawa, Ontario, with her husband, two kids and her writing helper, Alenko the husky.
Kelly Jensen
Born in Australia and raised everywhere else, Kelly now lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, daughter and herd of four cats. After disproving the theory that water only spins counter-clockwise around drains north of the equator, she turned her attention to more productive pursuits such as reading, writing, writing about reading and writing stories of her own. She also enjoys volunteering at her local library and playing video games, and holds a brown belt in Kiryoku, a martial art combining Shotokan, Aikido and Tang Soo Do. Her family is not intimidated by her.
Kelly is the author of Less Than Perfect, a tale of love and adventure in postapocalyptic America, and “Domestic Bliss,” a story of love and robots. It’s not kinky. Well, maybe it is.
Felix and Zander’s story begins with CHAOS STATION—available now!
CHAOS STATION
Chaos Station, book one
“You’re not real. Felix Ingesson is dead.”
The war with the alien stin is over, but Felix Ingesson has given up on seeing his lover, Zander Anatolius, ever again. Zander’s military file is sealed tighter than an airlock. A former prisoner of war, Felix is attempting a much quieter life keeping his ship, the Chaos, al
oft. He almost succeeds, until Zander walks on board and insists that Felix isn’t real.
A retired, broken super soldier, Zander is reeling from the aftereffects of his experimental training and wants nothing more than to disappear and wait for insanity to claim him. Then he sees footage of a friend and ally—a super soldier like him—murdering an entire security squad with her bare hands and a cold, dead look in her eyes. He never expected to find Felix, the man he’d thought dead for years, on the ship he hired to track her down.
Working with Felix to rescue his teammate is a dream come true…and a nightmare. Zander has no exit strategy that will leave Felix unscathed—or his own heart unbroken.
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ISBN-13: 9781426899829
Lonely Shore
Copyright © 2014 by Kelly Jensen & Jennifer R.L. Burke
Edited by Deborah Nemeth
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.