The First Nova I See Tonight by Jason Kilgore (the false prince .txt) 📕

the Raptores toward a back cargo cube, his short cape swishing as he bragged about how great their cabin would be, but Dirken wasn't listening. His thoughts were full of longing. This ship made him yearn for his own again. It was hot, crowded, and hummed with the activity of an active vessel. Half a dozen crewmen of different species squeezed past them or craned their necks in curiosity from neighboring cabins as the group passed, each dressed in whatever clothes (or none) they were used to on their homeworlds. The scents of their novel foods mingled with the lived-in acridity lingering in the air and the "space tang" of their mixed species. It was a welcomed change from the smoke and chemicals in the hangar. Their excited discussions about the battle they just left would stop as they turned to ogle Dirken and Yiorgos. He knew a few of them, just as he had known Feleesha, but there was still a look in their eyes of… what? Expectation? Nervousness?

Dirken, Yiorgos, and 'TakTrak passed through an airlock that marked the end of the clipper's front "forecastle" portion and the beginning of the row of detachable cargo cubes. 'TakTrak engaged a panel, then they stepped through into a new corridor. This corridor was brand new, like the cube had looked from the outside, with pleasant lights and clean, white walls without the patchwork of conduits, wiring, or ductwork.

"Here is the VIP cabin!" 'TakTrak announced with a flourishing whirl of his voice, coming to a door that was covered in swirling designs of gold and jet. With a wave of his wing, the door slid open.

Dirken emitted a whistle as he and Yiorgos stepped inside. It had been ages since he'd been in such luxury — not since they were flush with cash from the Io job, four years before, and had frivolously spent their earnings at the Nebulon, a five-star luxury hotel on Tesla. The new VIP cabin on the Raptores sported lush red carpet. Adjustable gravity and atmosphere. Two framed, erotic paintings: one of two lovers from Earth wrapped in each other's arms, mid-coitus, the other of a typical "orgy pile" of mating males and females from Tau Ceti F, their blue eyes wide and mouths open in ecstatic vocalizations. A plush love seat. Fully stocked, wet bar, food replicator and refrigerator. And for those who mix work with pleasure, an adjoining office with a wide desk and computer interface. All furniture was made with real wood.

Toward the back was a wide, round bed with satin sheets and a dozen soft pillows, but a console built into the headrest showed it was much more. An array of emitters surrounded the bed. "Ah, the leviton bed!" Dirken said.

'TakTrak nodded. "Only the best, old rogue. Sleeping… and sexing… in zero-G is the only way to go."

Dirken gently placed the Heart on the carpet then threw himself onto the bed. His body sank into the soft mattress. He sighed in immediate comfort. It had been so long since he laid on anything other than bunks, crew hammocks, or jail beds…

…or the couch in the rear cockpit of the fightercraft with Eow in his arms. He quickly pushed the thought away.

"What did I tell you, friend Dirken?" 'TakTrak bragged. "Luxury unlike anything you have ever experienced, no?" 'TakTrak slapped Yiorgos on the shoulder with one of his feathered hands. "It is hardly the life of a rogue like us, eh? Why, I should charge you extra for such excellence!"

Yiorgos shed the Corthian's arm with a suspicious air and didn't reply.

"I tell you, 'TakTrak," Dirken responded. "This must be some VIP you're transporting!"

"Indeed! My client spared no expense." 'TakTrak turned to leave. "Help yourself to whatever you want. I assume you would like to taste the escorts, too. I will send them in."

Yiorgos shook his head. "That won't be necessary. We…."

"Please do!" Dirken interrupted. "If they are all you say they are, it's a real treat!"

Yiorgos frowned at him.

"Certainly!" 'TakTrak responded. "Right away."

The Corthian stepped out, closing the door behind him.

"Are you mad?" Yiorgos said. "We just escaped a battle between pirates and the mafia and all you can think about is your penis?" He gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head. "I don't trust him."

That birdbrain is up to something, Dirken thought. But it's not like he could have planned a pirate attack on a mafia stronghold. And he did save us.

"You're doing that thing again," Yiorgos said.

Dirken blinked. "What thing?"

"Where you're lost in thought and moving your mouth as if talking aloud… with your hand on your blaster."

Dirken took his hand off the blaster handle and let himself lay back. "I don't trust him either. He's hiding something."

"So what are we doing here? It could be a trap." Yiorgos looked around the room. "He may have control over the atmosphere. He could cut off all the oxygen and kill us. Or vent the cube's atmosphere into space."

Dirken waved him away. "Maybe he could. But if he wanted us dead he could have shot us in the hangar — or just let us die in there and flown away without us. Besides, we're paying him. Hell, we're probably paying him more than his precious VIP! So relax a little."

"Easy for you to say! My right arm is shot to hell and I still have a gaping wound in my right leg, not to mention I'm covered with dents and bruises." The cyborg looked down at the Heart. "Whatever this damned sphere is, it had better be worth the trouble. When we finally get it to Nüwa, we need to demand more payment."

Dirken kicked off his boots and let them fall to the floor. This only seemed to piss off Yiorgos more.

"You know," Yiorgos continued, "Therese wouldn't have betrayed us like Eow did."

Dirken groaned. "You just have to bring up Therese again, don't you? An old flame to inflame things!"

"Face it, Eow pulled all your levers… including the one between your legs."

Dirken opened his