Pirates of the Dark Nebula (Hearts in Orbit Book 2)

by S. C. Mitchell

  “Oh, oh, oh.” Her breath came out in ragged huffs.

  Between her legs, his questing fingers found that spot . . . oh gods, right there.

  Ecstasy unleashed within her, spilling over the crest and washing through her in a cascade of passionate waves.

  A low, keening moan escaped her lips. Clutching the bedclothes, her body arched and she cried out, barely hanging on to the shreds of her sanity, as a powerful orgasm rippled through her core.

  Rik, his golden brown eyes alight with passionate fires, held her gently as the quaking subsided. He tenderly stroked her cheek with the back of one hand. “You all right?”

  No.

  All right didn’t begin to describe the feeling. Amazing . . . incredible . . . those came closer.

  “Wow, yeah.” She struggled to catch her breath. “Okay . . . I think.”

  Was she really that out of practice, or did this man have some kind of magic touch. She couldn’t recall ever being taken that high . . . climaxing that hard.

  And that was just his fingers. What would it be like . . .?

  His cock pulsed boldly erect against her leg, as he dove in to kiss her once more. She breathed him in, vallenoak and ginger . . . and the musky scent of man.

  Breaking the kiss, his breath rasped against the sensitive skin of her neck. “I need you, Luna. Are you ready?”

  Was she? Gods, yes. She doubted she could get enough of this man.

  She nodded, widening her legs as he positioned himself at her damp center. He grasped his shaft and dragged the head down across her throbbing clitoris, and along the folds of her channel.

  Pushing inside, he drew her ankle up over his shoulder, offering him better positioning.

  Thick, hard, and pulsing with passion, he drove into her slick channel. She could feel every wonderful ridge of his incredible manhood, as he slid to the hilt inside her. Her core clenched around his shaft.

  “Oh, yeah.” Rik scrunched his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Just like that, baby.”

  He pulled out almost to the tip, then slammed into her again. The rush of erotic sensations that rippled through her core had her squealing with pleasure. “Oh please, Rik. More.”

  His pace steadily quickened, as he pistoned in and out, in and out, each push causing a new wave of passion to wash through her. Her heart pounded in her chest, her ears rang, and her head whirled.

  Above her, Rik’s intense eyes went unfocused, a damp sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He pushed in to the hilt one last time, then shuddered and convulsed above her with a husky groan of satisfaction.

  The walls of her reserve crumbled and the building orgasmic crescendo broke on her like an Aquarian tsunami. Ripple after ripple cascaded through her, intense and overpowering, as his seed gushed inside her.

  In the soul-shattering aftermath, Luna somehow found her breath.

  Rik collapsed on top of her, then quickly shifted to cradle her softly in his big arms, wrapping her in warmth and sexual satisfaction.

  Her fingers explored the muscled ridges of his upper arm. Protective strength poured from him like the Dewy Nectar of Magnus Prime, cocooning her in comfort and security.

  This man. Another place, another time . . . heaven.

  Chapter 10

  Rik had only been to Pluton once before as part of an initiation rite to the higher tiers of the Brotherhood. It had been a two-week survival test in one of the cruelest environments in the galaxy. A dozen hearty souls went in, only three walked out.

  It was not a place he’d choose to revisit. Pluton, a small planetoid, was the closest habitable world to the Dark Nebula. The planet’s erratic axial tilt caused extreme weather effects and seismic activity planet-wide, so the majority of the population lived in sixteen domed city-states.

  Rik hoped they’d find Doctor von Alderamin on the space station orbiting the planet. Negotiating the internal political turmoil of the city-states, often at war with each other over the planet’s scarce resources, was not something he even wanted to contemplate unless it was necessary. But, if the Brotherhood wanted to hide something valuable, that’s probably where it’d be.

  “Shuttles came up from Thurbin, Noxclies, and Xio while I was there.” Carter pointed out the cities on the tri-dimensional planetary display. “If our scientist isn’t on the space platform itself, he’s probably in one of those domes.”

  Rik patted the man’s wide shoulder. “I’d like to have you as part of the landing group. How are you with a blaster?”

  The side of Carter’s mouth curled up. “I can shoot.”

  The landing party he was putting together to search for Doctor von Alderamin had to be big enough to protect itself, without being so large it drew attention from the local enforcers.

  Harvey could plug into the planetary network, and interpret the current situation planetside and on the space station. And a service droid would not seem out of place on this world. The harsh environments made worker droids a modern convenience the pirates on this planet gladly adapted to.

  Markus brought an eye-raising array of skills to the table. His negotiating skills could be useful if they got in a bind, and Markus’s stature served him well. People tended to overlook him in every aspect of the word. Nimble and athletic, he’d be able to go places none of the others could.

  “I once spent two weeks living in a ventilation system on Korium 6,” he’d told Rik. “They never knew I was there.”

  Markus also claimed to have contacts in Xio and Thurbin.

  There’s more to that little man than anyone would suspect at first glance.

  Carter would be just the opposite of Markus. Just plain muscle. The guy had that in droves. Also he claimed to have been on the station before, which might prove useful. If the tight-lipped spacer had any other skills, great, but all Rik needed was some back-up.

  He’s hiding something, but still . . .

  Carter came across, at least as a first impression, being solid and willing to help. And there was another quality in Carter, something Rik couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something he hadn’t felt in another human in over three years. The man felt . . . coreworlds normal—something at odds with the other refugees.

  Rik shook his head. I’ve been away from normal people for too long. Do I even know what normal is anymore?

  “They’re done.” Luna looked up from her work on the conference table in their cabin, as she closed the protective cover of the fifth and final com link. “I’ve modulated the frequencies on these units to allow for a secure tunnel through the pirates’ local network. We’ll be able to communicate with each other and the ship on a clean, secure channel.”

  As she stood, Rik couldn’t help but put his arms around her from behind. He sank his nose into her silky tresses and breathed in her essence. “I wish I could leave you up here. I hate the thought of the danger I’m bringing you into.”

  She loosened his arms and spun around to be gathered back in. “I’m the only one here who can positively identify Ian. You need me by your side down there.” She hugged him, kissing his neck. “And that’s where I want to be.”

  Something was growing between them. More than just the physical attraction and the lovemaking. Something that couldn’t—shouldn’t happen to an undercover agent. Strings like this were dangerous, deadly in his line of work.

  He’d hoped . . . feared . . . sleeping with her would break the bond. He wouldn’t be good for her, and she deserved so much more. But his desire for her had only increased. He wanted to be with her, get to know her on an even deeper level. There was just something about Luna Callista that tugged at the deepest part of his soul. The part he’d always kept hidden from the cold, cruel world he dwelled in.

  He pulled back. “Time to get to the shuttle. Time for me to be Captain Mazar again.”

&n
bsp; The edges of her mouth curved up. “I know. I’ll be good.”

  She was good. Better than he deserved. She didn’t really know him yet. The things he’d done. The things he was capable of doing.

  He was the one who wasn’t good.

  As the shuttle bay doors opened, the dim lights of the Pluton orbital station caught Rik’s eye. Like a floating iron fortress, the structure was a pale shadow against the dark rolling clouds on the planet below.

  A hundred thousand years ago, a star had shone brightly on Pluton, warming the surface and creating a verdant world. But, at some point in the past millennia, that unnamed star went supernova, creating the Dark Nebula and destroying the ecosystem of Pluton. Flora and Fauna on the planet had to adapt to extremes or suffer extinction. Most perished, and anything that survived was not something any sane person looked forward to encountering.

  The orbital station itself represented one of the few instances the pirates of this sector actually built something rather than stole it. A docking facility and shipyard hidden deep in their territory and easily defended, offered the Brotherhood of the Dark Nebula a strategic and secure place to have their damaged ships repaired.

  The Brotherhood, a loose confederation of cutthroats, migrated to this gods-forsaken sector a little over fifty years ago. As apt to raid each other as the surrounding systems, the Pluton station existed as the one neutral territory in the vast Dark Nebulan sector. They all needed it, and they all defended it. Even those shadowy figures like Alixander Zartosovich, pulling the strings behind each faction, saw the wisdom of having one piece of neutral ground.

  Treaties, truces, and negotiations took place here regularly between the pirate factions. Of course there were also instances of back-stabbing betrayal and deals gone bad. Still, the platform retained the illusion of neutrality.

  Rik was counting on that illusion to ease their mission. There were always suspicious characters on the platform, moving through to one of the sixteen city-states on the planet below, or just stopping for repairs and refueling. No one down there would trust anyone, but that distrust would be evenly distributed so his group wouldn’t stand out.

  Rik pulled the com unit from his belt. “Keep the ship in orbit and at a distance from anything, Ms. la Cross.” He’d given command of The Starboard Mist over to Tina. “And stay safe. I have no idea when we’ll be returning.”

  Tina had plans to use this time to train other’s in the bridge’s workstations. She had an amazing grasp of starship controls and the leadership skills to make a good captain in her own right. I wonder where she learned all that?

  He eased The Starboard Mist’s six-seat shuttle from its bay, launching into the inkiness of space. The approach vector to the space platform left little room for maneuverability. He sure hoped his landing codes hadn’t been revoked yet.

  Zartos’s faction within the Brotherhood was strong, but not overwhelmingly so.

  It should take at least a week for the other factions to brand Rik a traitor. He’d worked hard to establish his credentials, shifting factions as opportunities presented themselves without burning too many bridges. Most of the other pirate factions would still be open to offering him a position within their ranks.

  But any thought of going back undercover within the Brotherhood would have to wait until he had Luna and the refugees safely out of the system.

  Rik used the shuttle’s deepband com unit to contact the platform over the pirate’s network. Without the infrastructure of the Galaxynet system in this sector, the pirates had been forced to build their own com network. Bug riddled and staticy, the damned thing still worked.

  “Shuttle Mist I requesting a landing pad, with clearance code one-one-nine-four-six.” Nervous moments of radio silence sent tension pulsing up Rik’s neck and shoulders before the com crackled to life.

  “Rik? You old scallywag. What are you doing in the galaxy’s anus?”

  The welcoming voice sent a sigh of relief hissing from Rik’s gut. “Kyrk? That you, old buddy?”

  He hadn’t seen Kyrklund T. Jameson since going undercover with the Brotherhood. After Rik discovered the platform a year ago and sent word back through his contacts, he’d figured the marshals would try to embed an agent here. Kyrk, a unique blend of cop and scamp, was the perfect choice. Easy going yet tough as titanium, the man had a gift for blending into just about any situation.

  “Rumor has it you’ve acquired your own starship, Captain Mazar.” Kyrk was letting him know that the theft of The Starboard Mist was already common knowledge. “You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a safe harbor?”

  An ally here would be indispensable. “I might be. Can we meet somewhere?”

  “I’m off duty in a half hour. Punt, at the Blind Parrot mixes up a mean zombie. Meet me there immediately after you dock your shuttle in . . . bay thirty-seven. Wish we had time to throw back a few for old times’ sake, but you’re in a hurry.”

  I’m in a hurry? Something was up. “I’ll meet you there.”

  The hissing of air leaks into space should have been enough to warn anyone away from landing bay thirty-seven. Jitters invaded Luna’s stomach as she crept down the shuttle exit ramp to the filthy titanium decking. A foul, acidic reek filled the air, and the only thing that kept her from grasping the flashlantern at her belt and turning it on to illuminate her dim surroundings was the fear of discovering just what that smell was coming from.

  “Oh my.” Harvey’s sensors must have been taking it all in as well, but the others appeared not to notice the wretched conditions.

  They’d lived in Port Hubble. Which was probably worse, though at least it was planetside. Conditions like this on a space station? Not good.

  Rik placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s safer than it appears, and we’re better off landing here than in one of the better maintained bays. We’re nobodies, and we want to stay that way.”

  He ushered them all through the hanger doorway, into a hall that disappeared into darkness. Lights overhead flickered and even arced sparks in some places.

  “We’d be on level G,” Carter Arcturus said, his face a grim mask. “I hate it down here.”

  Rik turned toward Carter. “So, you’re familiar with the station layout?”

  Carter nodded. “After I saw whatever it was I wasn’t supposed to see, Tarsk Mueller sent three of his men after me. I spent hours eluding them down here before I was able to stow away on a shuttle heading out. Not fun.”

  I can only imagine.

  Rik pressed the controls on one of the keypads and the adjacent door slid open. “In here.”

  The air was only a fraction fresher here—still, stale and dusty as a Dolomite hydrochannel during high radiance—but the lights came up to illuminate a somewhat cleaner space. The cubical was about ten meters square, with a bank of equipment lining the far wall.

  Motioning Harvey forward, Rik indicated a com terminal with Hyanard inputs. “Plug in, Harvey, and scan the network. Look for anything that would indicate the whereabouts of Doctor von Alderamin.”

  “Yes, sir.” Harvey shuffled forward, a universal connector extending from his right hand.

  Rik turned to the rest of them. “I’m going to meet with a contact I’ve discovered. He should be able to help us. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  He opened the door again. “Markus, Carter, take up positions outside the doorway and keep watch. Luna, stay here with Harvey. If anything happens, or you discover something, call me over our secure com connection.” He patted the com unit attached to his belt. “Worst case, take the shuttle back to the ship.”

  Rik exited the room, followed by Markus and Carter. As the door slid shut, Harvey beeped. “This network is crawling with microbugs, Miss Callista.” Lights flashed on the console as images whisked by on the dusty display screen.

 
Harvey beeped once more. “And, it has the strangest dialect.”

  The Blind Parrot, on level D of the platform, was a small pub, typical of many of the spacer bars Rik occasioned over the years. A holographic, green-skinned xolomite female, dancing semi-nude to a Montovial two-step passed for entertainment, but the music was blessedly kept low enough to allow for quiet conversations. There were times in his line of work he’d wanted to be overheard. This was not one of them.

  He found Kyrk in one of the booths near the front door of the establishment.

  “Kyrklund.” He extended his hand.

  Kyrk waved the hand away. “Don’t be so frackin’ formal. Sit your butt in a chair and talk ta’ me.”

  Ah, people in the pub know him. And he was playing that roll again.

  Rik swiped his hand around, cuffing Kyrk’s shoulder. “Devil, man. Whatcha been up to?” He hoped his Code-Talk wasn’t too rusty.

  “Your timing couldn’t be worse, ol’ buddy.” Kyrk’s tone was easy, but his brow was furled tightly. “I’m holding a party here in about an hour that you don’t want to attend.”

  Something was definitely going down. “A party, man? Don’t worry. I’m no crasher. Just passing through, catching up on old times, ya know.”

  “Well, that old flame of yours . . . Kristin? She’s been askin’ about you. Something going on I don’t know about?” His wide grin didn’t mask the serious concern in his eyes.

  Damn.

  “She here already? Thought she’d flown off to parts unknown.” If Kristin’s fleet was in orbit, they’d have to pull out and leave Doctor von Alderamin behind.