Then TiCara stepped forward and Sherin stepped back, letting her in. The gesture reminded TiCara of a dance, like the one she’d been doing with the rep when they met back on Kyrin. And now she was about to make them take a huge step away, perhaps off into the never-never of the starfields. The knowledge sat in her stomach like a lump of meteorite.
Sherin’s face was a mask, unreadable and blank as one of the Astra’s walls. TiCara wondered what she was thinking, what she could say to break through that shell. She forced herself to speak first, instead of giving into impulse and reaching out to let her hands and her medusas speak for her. I need tru tell, rep. She walked further into the room, pulling the disabled tracker out of her suit but holding it in her closed hand as she let the door’s sensor close it behind her.
TiCara met Sherin’s impassive stare with one of her own, looking for a signal for what she should do or say next. She tried to imagine that she was facing a stranger and she planned her next words carefully. But there was something in Sherin’s eyes that changed her, that yanked a different response from her than the one she’d planned. I looked for you afterwards, but I couldn’t find you.
Sherin dropped her gaze and turned away, her fingers running through her hair and over her scalp in that same nervous gesture that TiCara had seen earlier. It reminded her of the scarring on the other woman’s head and she blurted out, What happened to you? To your head? Unthinkingly, she gestured with the tracker.
Sherin’s eyes went wide, then she shot a fierce glare at TiCara before looking away. She glanced down at the bed, then back up at TiCara, her face stone once more. "Ship fire. I didn’t get out in time. Was that all you wanted
to know, Captain?"
It was as if they were back on Kyrin and they hadn’t been anything more to each other than they were before they left the port. TiCara ached and burned, letting words bubble up to her lips, then swallowing them back down again, judging each to be too desperate, too angry, too revealing. Finally, she settled for a gesture and raised her arm between them and opened her hand to display the tracker.
She watched Sherin’s every movement, every breath, looking for signs of betrayal. Or innocence. Part of her still hoped that the other woman would react by looking shocked, protesting that she didn’t know what the device was.
Sherin said nothing, did nothing beyond taking a quick breath and frowning, her expression suggesting dismay and resignation more than surprise. She crossed her arms and tilted her head to one side, considering first the tracker, then TiCara. Not my pretty, Captain. Why did you think it was?
It wasn’t enough. TiCara saw her own disbelief reflected in an instant of hurt on the rep’s face. The fleeting wounded look on her face was almost enough to distract the pilot, but not quite. Crew says you met with an Ear in port. Did the Ear give you this? How much cred did you take to put it on my ship? She could hear the fury in her voice, welling up from every centimeter of her body.
Sherin flinched, then scowled. You think your crew will tru tell you more than me? Vahn sends me to negotiate with Ears as well as shadow trade pilots. Or did you think yourself so nova that you’re the only one I talk to for him? If TiCara was ice, Sherin was blazing hot, a barely contained wildfire. TiCara could feel the heat from nearly a meter away.
It made her gut twist with want, need, desire so desperate that she would have taken the other woman then and there if Sherin had given her any sign that she wanted her, despite everything that had happen. She triggered a shock from one of her medusas, letting the momentary pain distract her from what she wanted and pull her back to what she needed to do. So the Ear didn’t give you this? She motioned at Sherin with the tracker, letting her tone convey her disbelief. What did you get from him then? When she imagined Sherin talking to Zig, betraying her to Zig, all desire fled, leaving nothing but anger behind.
Would you believe anything that I told you now was tru tell? You’ve already decided that I put this thing on the ship, that I’m working for the Ears. Sherin dropped down onto the bed, making the shelf that supported the mattress creak with the sudden impact. She gestured around at the tiny space and added, Do you want to look for more? Maybe I put those things everywhere I went on your precious ship. She bared her teeth in a savage grimace.
TiCara’s wounded feelings crystallized into a ball of pure pain somewhere in the middle of her chest and she said the most hurtful thing that occurred to her, So sex with me was just like spraying Haze on the camera? You should turn Ear yourself, not just spy for them. I hear it’s worth more creds.
Sherin’s face blanched and her full lips thinned into a straight line. She seemed to choke on her words and she swallowed hard. Then she suddenly buried her face in her hands, her elbows on her knees. It looked to TiCara as if she was crying and involuntarily, she reached out to caress her shoulder, only to hesitate, one hand frozen in mid-air.
Instead, she asked again, Did the Ear in Kyrin give you anything? If this isn’t yours, give me tru tell so I can decide what to believe. When Sherin didn’t respond, she started to pace around the room. It was all she could do not tear through her belongings, looking for more trackers or any other sign that the rep was working for the Ears.
Sherin’s handheld was sitting on the small shelf next to the bed and TiCara craned her head, trying to see the screen. When she glanced around, Sherin was still bent over, face in her hands, but now she appeared to be regaining control. TiCara nudged the handheld over, glancing at the list of messages. It was Zig’s name that she was expecting, or fearing to see, but it was Elia’s name that leapt out at her. She backed away from it as if she’d been stung.
But Elia wasn’t an Ear and she wouldn’t track the Astra. Her certainty faded nearly the moment it appeared. Would she? She thought back to every moment, every gesture of her encounter with her former lover on Kyrin. She remembered her sense that something was wrong, that Elia had changed, and her heart ached. The former pilot had to be involved in this somehow.
TiCara emerged from her thoughts swearing, a stream of port curses pouring from her lips. Somehow, the older pilot must have realized that they were going to Electra from something she had let slip. Any tru coordinates
for the asteroid would be worth serious cred to an ambitious Ear. That had to be why she’d paid or persuaded Sherin to plant the tracker on the ship. Or perhaps, someone else, if Sherin was telling the truth. But that was unlikely, given the rep’s behavior. Sherin and Elia were obviously partners in something.
She turned back to the other woman. Sherin lifted her face from her hands and TiCara could see her tear-streaked cheeks. Her eyes were still full of unshed tears. What more do you want from me? Her voice trembled. I have nothing left. Nothing without... She gestured at TiCara’s face as her voice trailed off and she turned away.
Nothing without...what? Me? TiCara couldn’t believe it. Nothing Sherin had said or done so far suggested that she felt that much of a connection, that much passion. The rep was playing games with her. That’s what all this was: one big game, with dire consequences for TiCara and her crew. And she was going to tell the rep that, tell her and expose her for what she was and leave her in a port on the way back from Electra. Her voice came out as a snarl, You--
Her handheld pinged loudly. Erol’s emergency code was an urgent summons, cutting off what she’d been about to say, demanding all of her attention. She stared at it for a moment, then back at Sherin. The rep looked at her handheld too, some emotion that TiCara couldn’t read twisting her expression. I’ll deal with you later, TiCara snarled, then turned on her heel and left the room, her medusas swirling in a cloud around her.
Chapter 12
Sherin watched the door close behind the pilot and cursed herself for not going after her. She remembered TiCara watching her sing in the bars, her face lit with an adoring glow. No one else looked at her quite the same way, as if they heard her the way that she wanted to be heard. Then she’d gotten wired and went away and Sherin hadn’t seen her again for se
veral revolutions.
By then, Sherin had become a pilot herself. Until Electra. Until she’d been left with nothing, no medusas, no identity. It had been worse even than that, since what was left made her doubt everything she had before getting wired. She hadn’t sung since then.
She scrubbed her face angrily. She was being foolish. She had a new life now, a new mission. And that should be enough to give her hope. They said that she could get them back, that she could be all that she was before. Better, even.
But...she couldn’t help but think about TiCara and Vahn. The one wanted her, broken as she was and the other had trusted her enough to make her his personal representative. She wasn’t giving either of them anything comparable in return, and that hurt. Her birth crèche had always prized honor and honesty above all else and had raised her with those virtues in mind. While she had grown up and moved away from its influence, those early lessons still held sway.
And the way TiCara looked at her gave her chills, made her want to open herself up to the pilot like she hadn’t been able to do with to a lover since everything changed. The pilot was different. She could see the vulnerability under all her bravado, see that she was holding in some deep hurt that Sherin wanted to ease. It had something to do with the Ears, that much was clear.
Thinking of the Ears made Sherin tug sharply on a lock of her hair as she wound it around her finger. She wished that she never gone near them now, never accepted what Zig offered. But Elia had vouched for him, said he was her friend. At the time, that seemed enough.
Black holes take them both! The older pilot had seemed so sympathetic and friendly when they first met. She was the only one who Sherin had been able to talk to about what had happened. They met many times at the port bars, sharing stories about their lives. It was only natural that their talk would turn to past loves and Elia mentioned TiCara. That had been enough to keep Sherin coming back, wanting to hear more. Elia became more of a friend and a confidante each time they met. And now that friendship was going to drive her to destroy every hope she had of a new love, a new life.
Sherin punched the mattress under her and tried to think about what to do next. If she was still wired...but then, she wouldn’t be in the mess she was in now if that was true. The fight drained out of her with that thought. She collapsed flat and threw her arm over her face. There had to be something, some way out of this that didn’t leave her life a complete wreck in its wake. That tracker wasn’t hers, even if she did know what it was. So who had planted it there?
Her brain spun with emotions and memories and she couldn’t focus on any of them. Finally, she settled for remembering the way TiCara’s body felt under hers. The memory of silky tan skin against hers and the pilot’s soft moans were enough to have her unfastening her suit and undergarments a moment later. Maybe if she was satisfied, at least for the moment, she’d figure out what to do next.
She bared her breasts and ran her fingers lightly over one, then the other, stroking and tugging her nipples into solid points. In her imagination, it was TiCara’s hands, TiCara’s mouth, sucking, nibbling. The thought sent a bolt of pure lightning through her and she felt her thighs tense, wanting more.
That feeling sent one of her hands down between her thighs, while the other continued to caress her full breasts. She slipped her fingers into her aching wetness, wishing desperately that she had a toy or VR mods to use along with them. Imagining TiCara touching her was fun, but a VR TiCara would be close to being with the real thing.
Just without medusas.
She tried to picture the pilot without her implants and failed: she’d noticed her once she was wired, not before. They looked like part of the pilot now and even in her fantasies, Sherin couldn’t take them away from her. Instead, she tried to imagine the other woman using them on her, setting her flesh on fire with their touch. Caressing her in ways that she couldn't yet bear outside her imagination.
Her other hand wandered instinctively over her body, searching for the most sensitive places to touch. She caressed herself, teasing her body to life in search of a quick release. Her head was full of TiCara and the way she smelled and tasted and what would have happened if she hadn’t run away from the lounge.
Every nerve ending tingled as her sensations concentrated around the nerve endings beneath her thumb. She gasped and uttered a moan of her own, then another. Her legs locked as her hips rocked against her hands and she nearly fell off the bed when she came.
Sherin lay there gasping for a few minutes and laughed at the craziness of the situation that she found herself in. The sound startled her; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed at anything, not like this anyway. That thought nearly made her cry. She wanted to laugh because she was happy, not because everything was so utterly hopeless. The old Sherin, before she was wired, she used to laugh a lot. Sherin missed that person right now, missed her with all her heart.
Besides, she wanted to laugh with TiCara. Right now, that seemed impossible. Sherin sighed and groaned. Now she had to try and find a way out of this mess. She got up, took a shower, then lay back on the bunk, her eyes closed as she tried to think.
Chapter 13
Zig watched the Astra on the main monitor of his ship and gave the image a savage grin. That little fool of a pilot had no idea that they were chasing her and that she was going to lead him to everything he’d ever wanted. If he did this right, he could blackmail Vahn and probably even force the techs on Electra to pay him to keep their secrets. If they failed to comply…or even if they did, he could convince the other corps that he could sell them everything there was to know about the asteroid and its labs.
He was going to do this right. Not like the times before. His employer had been very clear about what kinds of results would be acceptable, and he planned on delivering what they wanted. They just didn’t know what else he planned to gain from this trip.
He thought about what he had hidden in the aft cargo bay of his ship and hid a smile. Two top-grade military robots would be all the guarantee that he needed to capture it all: the coordinates, the tell, the credits and the pilot of the ship that they were pursuing. The rush of pleasure he felt was enough to justify pursuing the Astra instead of trusting to the tracker alone. Hardware failed and traitors had second thoughts so he and Yva would have to be their own fail-safe.
TiCara had been his before, her body his to use as he pleased. He had almost acquired enough creds to buy her indenture and extend it when it completed and she fled the Ear dormitories without a backward glance. This time, there would be creds in plenty and he could use them to buy out all her debt. She’d be his until she paid all of it off and he’d ensure that would be quite challenging. He felt a spasm between his legs as he hardened at the thought.
Even better than owning TiCara, he’d be one of the most powerful men in the known galaxies. At least for a little while. Once he sold the information, he would have to find another way to gain power. Even blackmail had its limits. He was realistic enough to understand that. But he meant to make the most of it while he could.
Zig, we are too close. The voice of his companion Ear startled him back into the present, dashing meteorite ice on his fantasies. He had almost forgotten that she was there. Yva leaned forward, the lights glinting off the bare skin of her shaved head. She frowned at the nav computer screen and tapped the controls with one long finger. The gesture slowed them down, putting more distance between them and the Astra.
He had always hated Yva, hated that she commanded more respect and influence from their instructors and their employers. He loathed her cool competent ruthlessness that had succeeded when he had failed on their only previous mission together. For a wild moment, Zig thought about overruling her, about moving in even closer to the other ship to make sure that they couldn’t escape. If only he could have gotten another partner, one easier to control!
Resentment surged as he thought about how carefully he had groomed and selected another Ear, a more malleable one, only to h
ave his recommendation dismissed and his employer insist on Yva. She was there to monitor him as much as to complete the job, he knew as much by the way she watched him.
But she was right about their speed, at least this time, and he forced himself to sit still and look at their ship’s maintenance screens instead. They won’t notice us, he tried to make his words sound believable, but they sounded hollow even to him.
Yva tilted her head to one side and studied him as if he was an interesting alien life form. I’m here for the assignment, foolish Zig. Not for you. Find the asteroid, get the coordinates for our employer, transmit them and return to the station, nothing else. I don’t know what more you want. The pilot? Didn’t you get enough of that silly wired bonebag in the dorms? She wasn’t even an eager bedmate and had few other uses even then. She snorted, the sound disturbingly loud on the quiet Bridge.
Zig looked at her and imagined what she’d look like with her neck broken. Yva must have seen something in his face because her blaster was in her hand, barrel pressed against his neck before he could draw breath. Foolish boy, she crooned, I’ll fry you before you make a move. And our employers will hang your flayed skin in the entrance to headquarters as a warning to those who don’t obey orders. She gave him a sharp-toothed grin, all points and angles.
He pulled away from the blaster’s edge and tried to shoot her a grin of his own in response to show her that he wasn’t afraid. She moved the blaster closer, pressing it into his neck, and glaring at him until he bowed his head in acknowledgment, tempering his rage and resentment with fear.
She was right about the consequences of getting caught: when he killed her, if their corp found out, the penalty would be death. So he’d have to be very careful about it.
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