Freed

by Elin Wyn

  “You’re going to need to give Connor a little more time to come to terms with things.” I held my hands up. “She’ll get her way, I’m sure, but maybe not this trip. Besides, we have the Legacy now.”

  “What about the others? You can’t just abandon them here.”

  “If we leave tomorrow, we’ll be back in plenty of time before the Star heats up. Even if we’re detained, the others can go on the Seeker.”

  She gnawed her lower lip, a sure sign that something worried her.

  “If we can’t get in, no harm. We might lose information, but no one dies. That’s a nice change of pace, right?”

  Her shoulders unbunched. Not much, but a start. I’d find out what the problem was on the trip. We’d have two days of travel time.

  “Besides, it’ll be nice to find out what it’s like to spend some alone time with no one trying to kill us, right?”

  Nadira laughed and I knew I had her.

  “Now, let’s talk about how I can ‘pass’ better.”

  “I don’t like this,” Nadira said.

  “Well, not sure I do, either.”

  She ran a fingertip outside the edge of my ear, and I gripped the table edge to keep from grabbing her. Normally, something I enjoyed doing. Today, she held a primed laser scalpel.

  I’d never really thought about the shape of my ears. Seemed stupid.

  But if we were planning to visit a Hub station, it’d be wise to blend as much as possible. I couldn’t do anything about my size, but my ears were a dead giveaway. We wanted in and out, no questions.

  “It’s not going to be pretty. I’m not a body modification specialist. Yet,” she added in an undertone.

  Nixie piped up on the earcomms. “You're lucky, actually. Humans like looking like you, or like lots of things they’re not. You have a head start.”

  The tablet nearest us flipped on, and I caught Nadira rolling her eyes.

  “Nixie, is this part of eavesdropping?”

  “I don’t think so, do you?”

  Nadira put down the scalpel to rub her temples. “I’ll start a list of examples for you to study later. For now, show us what you mean.”

  “Connor asked me to monitor all channels for references to wolves. There’s nothing really interesting, not to him, but look at what people have been doing. If I was stuck in a body, I think I’d do something like that.”

  A stream of images flowed across the screen. People with scales for skin, or tiny horns budding through their hair, or luminescent tattoos. Or looking remarkably like Wolves.

  “I showed them to Connor before. He said they were just playing. So couldn’t you be a non-enhanced human playing, too?”

  “Because I’m not.”

  “But I can make the record that says you are. I thought I could do it while changing the registration for the Legacy. Quinn thought of that. He’s got good ideas. You should keep him.”

  “Planning to. Thanks for the recommendation, though.” I caught Nadira’s eye, tilted my head in silent question.

  “How far back can you make his identification record look solid?” she asked.

  “It wouldn’t be official official, but I can put enough breadcrumbs around that’ll show he has a history that goes back a decade or two.”

  I nodded. “Let’s do it.” A thought struck me. “Nixie, this extension of yours that we’re taking with us. Does it talk, or have the ability to listen in?”

  “No, I’m sorry, it won’t be nearly as helpful as I am.”

  Nadira muffled her laugh with her hands, and I had to look away before I burst out. “We’ll manage to survive. Somehow.”

  By the time we’d spoken with the non-mechanical members of the Pack, Nixie had finished her records adjustments.

  Which left one more thing to decide.

  “Should we take Norman and his crew along? Turn them over?”

  Nadira stopped packing. She and Eris had found clothes from the cargo bay that wouldn’t attract attention for being too out of date or fall apart as she walked.

  Which distracted me again, imagining her moving through our quarters, one garment dropping from her at a time.

  “Can’t we just leave them to burn?”

  Wait, what? Right, slavers, not her clothes.

  “No. And you’d never let it happen, anyway.”

  “I might,” she shoved another folded shirt into a bag. “Little lady, my ass.”

  I ran a hand over said tempting ass, dug my fingers into her curves as I pulled her to me. “Pack a few things you won’t mind having shredded.” Nipping down the curve of her neck, she moaned softly, making my cock rock hard between one delicate breath and the next.

  She pushed away, face flushed and eyes dark. “Not unless you’re willing to have a certain someone listen in.”

  We were going to have to have a talk with Eris when we got back. Only the knowledge that we’d be away, in relative privacy in a few short hours, kept my frustrated growl from erupting.

  “Back to your question. Once we’ve returned to the Star, we can drop them off. Taking them with us to Sagav would just add a complication.”

  There was that flicker of worry again. “Babe, are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes.” She sighed, leaning back against the desk, eyes closed. "It's just, I don't know how to explain. In my head, I've always divided my life into before I left the capital, and after. Going back to a Hub-controlled station somehow blurs things between those two worlds. It makes me feel uncomfortable, like anything could happen.”

  I lifted her and coaxed her legs to wrap around my waist so I could press her against me while I whispered in her ear.

  “That's easily taking care of.” I nipped at the soft skin of her neck. “I'll just make very certain to keep reminding you of which part of your life you’re living in now.”

  Once I'd been able to leave on missions with no more than ten minutes’ warning. Get up, grab my gear, roll out, get done.

  Now, though the Pack was decimated, somehow that just meant there were more things that could go wrong.

  Hakon had questions about where in the Star's flight path they should abandon ship if we hadn't returned by then.

  Aeden wanted to know the rendezvous point.

  Xander still wasn't speaking to anyone, just had taken the case of fancy liquor from the cargo bay down to where Loree’s tank was.

  We'd easily be able to get her onto Eris and Connor's Seeker when the time came, but no one wanted to deal with his surly ass.

  Eris and Nixie squabbled about the best way to implement the small extension that would stealthily stream data back to Nixie. Would. Should.

  Everyone needed something. And I just needed to get the hell gone.

  “I thought we’d never get out of there.” Nadira sprawled in the navigator's chair while I laid in our course. The Legacy might be ugly, but it was fairly new and could make the trip to Sagav in a single long jump.

  I settled back in my chair, uncomfortably aware that, in the recent past, the ship had been filled with victims of Norman and his crew’s greed. I didn’t like that we were at an advantage because of those women’s suffering, but I didn’t know what to do about it.

  Nadira’s voice startled me from my musing. “Do you realize, we’ve skipped right over all the getting-to-know-you type of conversations that couples usually start out with?”

  “Oddly, I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “Neither had I, until just now. I guess that’s what happens when all of our conversations have been more of the how-do-we-not-die-today variety.” Nadira drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. “What’s your favorite meal?”

  “Right now, anything that isn’t decades-expired mealpacks.”

  “No, really!”

  “Fine, wait a minute.” I had to think. Remembering anything before the attack on the Daedalus was like looking in a fogged mirror. Maybe that’s what Nadira had meant about thinking about her past before she moved to Orem.

&nb
sp; “Zeen doy.” Just thinking about the crispy, chewy balls of rice flour, coated with seeds and filled with bean paste, made me crave them.

  “That’s not a meal,” Nadira insisted.

  “What can I say?” I shrugged. “I’ve got a sweet tooth. Your turn.”

  “My grandmother’s noodles and cheese.” Her voice was soft, tangled with memory. “It wasn’t until I tried making it on my own that she told me her cheese sauce was about half blended vegetables. Apparently, when I was little I wouldn’t eat them. Then I thought that was the way the dish was supposed to taste, and everyone else made it wrong.”

  “Sounds like a smart lady. Did she teach you how to make it her way?”

  “Yup, and she was. I have ambitions to grow up just like her. Your turn.”

  “For what?”

  “To pick a question.”

  Her tone made it clear that should have been obvious. And she was right. But my mind stayed resolutely blank. Something else Doc neglected in our education, casual conversation with the woman who had rapidly claimed my heart.

  “Um. What’s the favorite place that you’ve traveled to?”

  Question by question, the trip flew by in small discoveries.

  Red lights flashed and Nadira jumped.

  “What’s that?”

  “We’re here.” I dropped us into regular space and a long column, topped by a wheel with silver spokes, slowly rotated in front of us. “Sagav Station.”

  Nadira

  We joined the queue at station security. It was late, local time, but that didn’t mean much to the traffic flowing in and out through the terminals.

  The smell of unwashed bodies closed around us, strange spices, probably contraband food.

  The jostling, pressing mass made me move closer to the curve of Roman’s arm.

  Sounds of the station filled the corridor. The low murmur of the crowd, the banging and clanging as ships attached or fell free, floating back into the dark.

  Finally it was our turn.

  "Step forward for the camera." The ancient man behind the counter barely glanced at us, his back bent over the console.

  I put my feet carefully on the markers and then leaned forward, letting goggles of the identification unit seal over my eyes.

  I'd always hated this, knowing the quick flash would come, knowing that if I blinked or jerked away I’d just have to do it again.

  The bright light finally came and I was released.

  "Nadira Tannu.” As I stepped away, he glanced at the image on his screen, doubled on the secondary monitor facing me.

  It was an old image, part of my official file before I left the capital. I studied her, that distant woman from my past. Obviously horrible things hadn't happened to her yet, but she'd be tough enough to get through them.

  “You’re approved.”

  I moved to the side.

  "Hurry up, sir, feet on the marks.”

  Ronan stepped forward and waited.

  The man finally glanced up, took in Ronan’s height with a long sigh. “Hold on, I'll get it adjusted.”

  When the goggles were finally at a height to wrap around his face, I saw again the image that Nixie had altered.

  Strange to see what an unenhanced Ronan might've looked like, but the man in the security uniform just shook his head, looking between the image and Ronan’s face.

  "Kids these days."

  I shrugged.

  "At least it's not permanent, right?"

  When we finally emerged into the station proper, I made straight for the nearest directory panel.

  "It's too late, station-time, to get started, and we need some prep." I flipped screens, looking for a reasonable hotel. And a restaurant. Real food instead of those packs.

  I searched through levels, cross-checked comments, until I found what I wanted.

  Ronan stood like a statue behind me, our bag thrown casually over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the vicinity. His huge biceps were bare - the best I'd been able to do for a wardrobe for him had been to cut off the arms of the largest shirts I'd found on the Star.

  I stepped back, wrapped my fingers in his. "Relax. I'm pretty sure no one is trying to kill us here."

  "You didn’t know there were Hunters on Orem until it was too late," he grumbled.

  "Thanks. I hadn't been thinking about that."

  We headed through the cluster of shops that could be found around the entry ports of any station. Cheaply made, high-priced goods. I ran my eye over them. Only slightly trash, really. But a good way of picking up what the current styles and trends were.

  "When things are open, we're going to have to do a little clothes shopping."

  "Why aren't they open now?"

  "Because," I sighed, trying to explain hidebound concepts of prestige and exclusiveness, sheer snobbery and clinging to tradition. "They think it makes them seem important. If you have to deal with an actual person, it may as well be hard."

  "Why not just deal with a fab machine and be done with it?"

  "That's how I prefer to handle it, but you’d be amazed at how much people will pay to be inconvenienced."

  The plan started to gel in my head.

  “First step, not attracting attention until we’re ready.”

  He snorted. “Not really an option, babe.”

  It was true. We’d already caught a number of stares. It could have been our clothes, but chances were good Ronan’s build would stand out anywhere.

  “We can make it less of an issue. And if you put up with it, I promise it’ll be worth your while.”

  The goof waggled his eyebrows. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “Oh, I know it.”

  We went down two crowded glides to the bazaar. Sagav might have wanted to mimic Capitol trends and business hours, but everyday working people couldn’t care less. Here would be the heart of the station’s business.

  At the back of a row, I found a fab booth specializing in textiles, and flipped through the display models, looking for designs that walked that fine line between trendy and trashy. Two selected, with the necessary footwear and underpinnings, I stripped out of my outer layers, and stepped into the scanner.

  “I thought you said clothes shopping tomorrow,” Ronan grumbled.

  “That’s shopping for the job. This is shopping so the hotel doesn’t turn us away.”

  Scan complete, I stepped out and took the bag from him. “In you go.”

  He scowled at the booth. “Don’t see why I need to.”

  “What if I told you I’d be making good on my promise, in public?”

  Eyebrow cocked, he shook his head. “You didn’t even want that AI listening in. You wouldn’t dare.” With one stride he crossed the booth and pulled me into his arms, mouth hot and demanding on mine. “And I wouldn’t let you. You’re mine.”

  I moaned my agreement, dropping the bag at our feet to run my hands down his hard shoulders.

  When he released me, I clung to his arm, gasping. Finally, my head cleared. “But aren’t you a little bit curious what I’m promising?”

  Grouching all the while, he stepped inside and tossed his vest and pants over the partition.

  “How are we set for credits? You should have new clothes, but I don’t care.”

  “Think of our job tomorrow as a play. We’re just getting costumes.” I didn’t have to see his face to know he wasn’t convinced. “Unless you don’t think it’s important we get that code.”

  With a beep, the scan finished, and I tossed him back his old clothes.

  “That’s not playing fair.”

  “You think I don’t know it when you do it to me?”

  A dip of a credit spike, and my thumbprint sealed the order. “We have time for dinner before pickup. Let’s go.”

  “Sure we won’t be turned away?” he teased.

  “Not here.” I turned down two rows, hoping I remembered the map from the directory.

  Booths narrowed, shadowed people flitted away from us. Normally,
I wouldn’t have considered going to an area like this.

  Normally, I didn’t have a walking wall of muscle right behind me.

  We didn’t have a problem.

  The flickering light of the booth shone out beneath the half-curtain covering the door, welcoming us.

  “Trust me.”

  Inside, three small tables took up the floor space, with chairs that looked like they’d probably hold Ronan. Probably.

  He eyed the place carefully. “Let’s head back up to the gate.” I tugged his hand until he sat down.

  “They have great reviews, and this is your reward.”

  A flat stare was my only answer.

  “Okay. This is your first reward.” I licked my lips. “You’re right, we’ll want privacy for the second”

  A woman with long brown braids tossed over one shoulder, came out from the back, carrying a tray with two giant bowls. My stomach growled at the fragrant steam. She laughed, put the bowls before us, and left us to dinner.

  “Best noodle soup on the station.”

  He poked it, tasted the broth, and the rest of our time was filled with the sounds of happy slurping.

  Finally, when he’d finished his bowl, and the half of mine I’d pushed his way, he sat back and stretched.

  “You were right. Good reward.”

  “Oh, that hasn’t happened yet.” I grinned and got up to whisper to the cook.

  Moments after I came back to the table, she appeared with a covered plate.

  “Go ahead, look!”

  Ronan’s eyes got huge, looking at the row of golden sesame balls. “Really?”

  “Best on the station, so I’ve heard.”

  We left, tipping outrageously. I’d have paid considerably more for the relaxed happiness on Ronan’s face.

  Fabrication of our clothes completed, my thumbprint unlocked a frosted door, and they slid out, neatly folded.

  I’d gone simple for Ronan. Dark charcoal gray pants that fitted him like sin, black boots nearly knee-high, topped with a deep emerald tunic patterned in a lighter gray to match the pants.

  “How the hell does this stay on?”

  Neck fastening solved, I helped with the sash and stood back to admire the overall effect.