Express Delivery

I pulled myself into a standing position, not quite sure if my trembling knees were up to the task. Among the two of us, I was solid as a rock though. It took my usually graceful client two tries to get back to her feet and she nearly collapsed before we had even reached the showering booth. Now that I knew where to look, I found the concealed touch pad and pushed it. The wall panel before us hissed into the floor, revealing an extremely short corridor -- or thick door frame -- leading to a shower cubicle big enough for at least two Gravon -- or six normal-sized humanoids. There were convenient handrails around the cubicle and quite the assortment of nozzles and handheld shower heads, along with towels and robes back in the corridor.

"I hope you don't mind me taking a cold shower. I want to get sober again," Jenala mumbled. "Remind me not to binge those damn Supernovas anytime soon."

"Noted," I said, firing up a handheld shower head of my own. Thankfully, getting rid of Silician ejaculate was easy enough. Some hot water and a bit of soap usually did the trick and with their unique flavorings, you didn't even smell bad afterwards. Next to me, Jenala cursed as the icy water hammered onto her.

"Does it work?" I asked her.

"No. So much for the wisdom of the Elders," she grumbled. "I'm still as wobbly and unfocused as before. And now I'm freezing."

"Come here, I'll wash your back." I switched the water stream from the hand shower to the jets overhead. Jenala sighed as the warm spray washed over her.

"Is that code for something?" she asked, leaning against me.

"Well, back in the military it was," I admitted. "But you've seen how well-spent I am. Even if you offered, I would probably have to decline."

"I wouldn't mind your hands on me though," she said. "I don't want to complain about Decima but her sheer inhuman self-control and endurance were kind of... alien. The women I have sex with usually don't last that long."

I squirted some shower gel into my palms. "Pull your hair aside, please."

Jenala stepped past me and grabbed a hold of one of the handrails before tucking her hair to one side, allowing me to soap up her shoulders.

"That's the thing most people find so fascinating about them. Silicians don't need to have sex to procreate, for them it is a diversion. Or, if you ask in certain circles, an art form. Some of them spend decades fine-tuning their sensation response curves so they can last for literal days, giving their partners unending highs."

"Once shall be enough," Jenala said. She stood up a bit straighter, smoothing her back against my hands. Her butt trapped my rod between our bodies. "And you're hard again."

"Want me to apologize?"

Jenala released the handrail and took my soapy hands, moving them onto her breasts much like Thayris had done before. She rested against me with closed eyes. "No, I think you don't have to. I feel rather safe right now." Her behind ground against me.

"Want me to wash your front too?" I whispered, nibbling on her neck.

"Let me rest, for Heaven's sake. My privates feel like a damn colony ship just used them as a docking bay. Maybe next time?" She slipped from my embrace and dealt with her hair. Shrugging, I took care of my own hygiene and stepped from the shower once I was clean. The towels were warm and fluffy and by the time I was done, Jenala joined me, a glistening alien goddess. I handed her a pair of fresh towels.

"Will you be alright?"

"I didn't break my neck yet. I'll be-" And then she slipped on the wet tiles.

Two things every space jockey needs are good reflexes and a decent hand-eye coordination. I had both. Before Jenala could even curse, I was there, breaking her momentum and catching her. The angle of her left foot looked not good but a sprained ankle was way better than a split skull.

"Fuck," she spat. "Thank you. I hate being drunk."

"Wet tiles happen," I said. "How's your foot?"

She gingerly tested it and winced. "I won't be winning any sprint races soon."

"Maybe our hosts have some painkillers. Or Zuthrian combat drugs."

"I don't think either would make a good match for my alcohol levels," Jenala observed, wrapping a towel around her waist. "Now what?"

"Let's see how badly our clothes have been soaked then we make a beeline for the hangar. You need a long nap to sober up and I have little desire to stick around any longer than absolutely necessary."

"Sounds like a plan." Jenala threaded her hand through the nook of my elbow. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

We left the cubicle.

"Welcome back!" Thayris purred, sitting up. She looked utterly devastated. Most of her fur down her front was caked to her skin and half her mane was plastered to her skull. One ear twitched, seemingly trying to dislodge a particularly troubling strand. "Decima and I will hop under the showers and then we'll be ready for another round."

"I think we've had enough," I said.

"Awww, already?" Decima sat up as well. She looked marginally better than her Felinoid colleague. "And I thought you and I get to pleasure your beautiful friend together."

Jenala chuckled wearily. "I barely managed to handle your monster. No way I could have handled his flight stick as well."

"Practice makes perfect," Decima said with a playful grin. Her eyes and subcutaneous circuitry gleamed.

"Another time. Our clothes, please."

Sighing, Decima tossed a few cushions aside. Amazingly, save for a whiff of her lubricant, our clothes and gear had survived Decima's eruption intact. "Here you are."

"And we can't convince you to stay a little longer? I mean, you've ordered us for a full shift." Thayris dug the menu tablet out from under some other cushions and consulted it. "There are at least three more hours on your clock." In a stage whisper she said to Jenala: "I'd like to see him give Decima some head."

I froze, my briefs halfway up my legs. "My jaw hurts just from pondering the idea."

"I could always go and fetch something less voluminous," Decima suggested.

"Maybe next time." I pulled on my pants and wound my weapons belt around my waist. At once, I felt a lot less nervous. Socks and shoes came next. By the time I had put on my shirt and vest, Jenala was already fully dressed and kitted out -- apart for her boots which she held in one hand.

"We can't even properly bid you farewell," Thayris muttered. "Not sticky and gross like that." She pawed one of her breasts. It made a squishy sound.

"Then a simple 'good bye' has to do," Jenala said, a hand on the door. "It was fun. Thank you."

"You're welcome!" Decima said, waving. "See us once you're in the neighborhood again!"

Jenala was already halfway out of the room when I caught up with her. We slowly made our way down the stairs, with her using my arm for support. She cursed every second step.

"Does it hurt a lot?" I asked her. "And you're okay going barefoot?"

"Yes on both counts. Lucky for us, the Bodyshop is just across from the entrance," she growled through gnashed teeth.

We left the club the same way we had entered. Down the stairs, past the main stage and out the entrance. The Gravon bouncer nodded curtly.

"Safe travels and consider us the next time you're docking here," he said, tapping his comms. A moment later both mine and Jenala's hummed softly, probably as confirmation of the coupon he had sent us.

"Bye," I said, waving. A huge load crumbled off my soul and I almost felt comically light-headed. We'd made it out of Club Stardust without even being looked at wrong. This late in the shift, traffic was sparse and we easily made it to the Bodyshop.

Najali, working behind a counter, looked up as we limped across the threshold. Well, Jenala did but her uneven gait caused me to fishtail as well.

"Are you all right?" She put down a colorful box and intercepted us, claiming a chair as she went which she plopped down in front of Jenala.

"I slipped coming out of a shower. And that's not code for anything."

Najali knelt down and gently inspected Jenala's ankle. "This swelling does look painful. But I'll have you sorted in no time."

"Some painkillers would just be fine," Jenala grumbled.

"I can smell the Supernovas on your breath," Najali said, standing up. "The strong stuff -- which you'd need to get those boots on your feet - doesn't go well with liquor." She retrieved a medkit from behind the counter. "A quick burst of healing gel and a cold sleeve should get you up and dancing again." With quick, practiced motions, Najali loaded another injector -- this time one with a needle to spare Jenala the pain of a high-pressure hypo -- and fired it into the purple lump around her ankle. Jenala hissed softly as the icy cold gel seeped into her savaged muscle tissue. The swelling receded almost instantly. Next, the pink-haired Nor doctor wound a self-cooling dressing around the affected joint. Using a chem-stick, she glued the bandage in place. "Keep it on for the next twenty-four hours or so. If the pain hasn't gone by then, I'd advise to come see me or another medic."

"I have an auto-doc aboard my ship. Will that do?"

"Of course. Run a Level-2 med scan on the shin and the foot and treat accordingly." Najali tapped her comms and sent me her business card. "Feel free to call me if complications arise."

"Thank you," Jenala said, wrestling her hurt foot into her boot. The other one followed. "What do I owe you?"

"To expedite things, let me charge Mr. Rios' TGoN card."

"Fine with me," I said. "Expedite why?"

Najali opened her mouth twice, then she said: "I... I thought you were in a hurry." She hurried behind the counter and accessed her terminal. "There, all done. Safe travels!"

Jenala shot me a quizzical look. I could only shrug. "Thanks again, doc. You've just earned a positive review for your clinic."

"That's generous of you. Thanks!"

The door to the Bodyshop opened and a Gray entered, holding his stomach. "I- I don't-" He barely made it past us before his innards gave out. He fell on hands and knees, vomiting furiously, soiling his expensive-looking robes and a good part of the azure-and-neon floor plates.

"I think we'd better go," Jenala said, coming to her feet. "Hm, that's almost like new!"

"Healing gel is amazing," I said, stepping towards the door. It hissed open as we approached. "Hard to believe the stuff is basically made from the same substance... oh, shit."

My high spirits evaporated like ice cubes on approach to the sun. Strutting down the corridor came Sistain Nemex. His visor reflected the lewd holograms around him and errant lights caused the gemstones in the skull pauldron on his right shoulder to flicker. Walking beside him were four spear-wielding Marked Zuthrians. They wore "Sistain and the Raiders" T-shirts and translucent neon-blue miniskirts which left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

The blue-haired Nor gangster carried a leash in his right hand, made from golden chain links. The other end of the leash ended around a Felinoid's neck. Again, she was made from Zuthrian stock like Thayris but, unlike Thayris, she was Marked and had brilliantly golden fur with orange and silver patches. And also unlike Thayris, this poor thing had been cybernetically enhanced. The snout was fully chromed, with long, golden saber teeth jutting from the upper jaw. Some kind of inlay went along her spine, her tail was armored and metallic clicks announced each of her graceful steps, made by long, curved slicers protruding from her toes.

The small procession seemed to be surrounded by a repulsion field. A wide lane opened in their wake and most people in the corridor suddenly remembered they'd rather be somewhere else than in the presence of the heavily armed entourage or the softly growling combat Felinoid.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Sistain Nemex stopped half a step away from us. His... pet sniffed around my crotch and growled threateningly.

"We don't want any trouble," I said, holding up my hands in the universal gesture of peace.

Nemex ignored me. "I can't believe it. A living, breathing and -- I do have to say this -- utterly gorgeous Seeker, right in my back yard." He turned towards his entourage. "Siblings, am I the luckiest fucker this side of Hellion-V or what?"

Jenala's hand nearly crushed my elbow. "You... you know who I am?"

Sistain returned his attention to her, flipping up his visor. "Never seen you before. Never seen your kind in the flesh before." His orange eyes slowly drifted down Jenala's body. I half-expected her robe to catch on fire. She wrapped the garment closer around herself.

"But I have heard the tales about a strange alien species, all females, all built like the warrior-goddesses of legend. Silver-haired, big-breasted and blessed with endurance and passion beyond compare. Who would have thought one of those mysterious beauties would fall right into my lap?"

"We've got places to be," Jenala snapped. "Thanks for the compliments, but-" She made a step to the side, only to be greeted with a humming vibro-spear. These thing were used by the Zuthrian hunters to shred the almost indestructible scales on a Sand Dragon. Putting one even near unprotected flesh can cause burns -- and a really big mess should it ever penetrate.

My escape route had been cut off in a similar manner. One of the Marked Zuthrians held the spear with practiced ease. When she caught my gaze, she caressed down her front with a hand.

"Babe, you're going nowhere. I insist you accept my invitation. We'll dine, we'll talk, we'll probably fuck and when I'm done with you, you will join my pretties in Club Stardust."

His combat Felinoid was way too close for comfort. It padded around me, making a show of literally swinging its cock around.

"I respectfully decline," Jenala snarled. She grabbed the vibro spear well behind the deadly humming tip and pushed.

"My bad. Did I say 'invite?'" Nemex chuckled and drew a shock rod. "I think I meant 'you'll be coming with us.'" His free hand dug into Jenala's robe.

In a heartbeat, the world went to shit. I caught a flurry of movement by my side, a long, purple arc starting at Jenala's hip and ending in Nemex's face. Hot, red Nor blood fountained then all hell broke loose. The combat Felinoid coiled up and flung itself at Jenala, one of the Marked groupies went to a knee next to the furiously shouting Nemex and another one raised her spear for a killing blow. The tip was aimed my way.

My hand was already coming up again, holding the boxy concussion gun. I aimed in the general direction of my assailant and pushed the fire button. A conical shockwave erupted, blasting the Marked One off her feet and the spear out of her hand. It careened end over end before burying itself in Club Stardust's front facade, effortlessly cutting through Armorgrade bulkheads and electronics beneath. Half of the holograms above sputtered and died. The bouncer shook his head, cracked his knuckles and came our way. He did something to his left arm, flipping back his wrist. A moment later, twin barrels jutted forward where his hand had been a moment before. He slowly circled around the fight, ready to join the party.

Jenala had twirled away from me, causing the golden-pelted combat Felinoid to miss her by a hair. A moment later, her free hand came up, brandishing the concussion gun she had bought earlier today. Another dull 'thwump' sound erupted and the bodysculpted killer kitty crashed against the opposite wall. Out cold but mostly alive.

Nemex came to his feet, the left side of his clothes bloodstained. There was a deep cut on his jaw and cheek. I thought I saw the white of his jawbone peek through. She got him good, I had to admit.

"That's it," he snarled, tapping his comms. "You are fucking dead, both of you!"

Jenala shook out her sword. Blood spattered onto the floor. "I could have killed you," she snarled. "Take this as a warning and let us go."

Nemex bared his teeth, his face a horrible harbinger of doom. "Oh, you will wish you got me with that one hit, bitch. Every day until I tire of raping every little orifice I can cram my cock into."

Everywhere around us, alarm bells went off.

"Security to the Promenade, sector seven. Armed conflict in progress. Lethal force is authorized," a cool Silican voice announced.

Behind us, I heard doors hiss open. A moment later, the air gained a strange, sticky quality. The sounds around us seemed to drop in pitch, first a little, then several octaves at a time. Breathing became difficult as my muscles refused to work at the speed my body was used to. Everywhere around me, I saw the same thing happening. The Gravon bouncer had unloaded both barrels of his arm-gun, the cluster of projectiles fanning out in slow motion towards Jenala. A vibro-spear hung in mid-air, the tip a fierce plasma-white. Behind it, one of Sistain's groupies was struggling to free a large, serrated hunting knife from her boot. Nemex' irate face oozed blood, individual droplets and stomach-churning strands of ichor hanging in limbo.

A slender hand touched my cheek and the terrifying moment of imminent asphyxiation was gone. Najali touched Jenala's cheek in much the same way then she grabbed our wrists. Some kind of current arced between us.

"In here," she snapped. Gone was her salesperson pitch, replaced by a cool, almost emotionless tone. She dragged us into the clinic, past the motionless clients and cleanup crew busy dealing with the Gray's spilled meal, into the arctic white tunnel and into one of the examination rooms.

"Who the fuck are you, Najali?" I asked. That earned me a quick sideways glance telling me to shut up. Sweat poured off her face and somehow, her features seemed... indistinct, unfocused. As if I was watching fifty or so overlapping holograms. Her hair went through different shades of pink before vanishing in her scalp, leaving her pale-eyed and bald.

And then I understood.

"You're... a Faceless?"

Najali extended two thirty-centimeter bone spikes from her wrist and dug them into a seam between two wall panels. I heard latches click and the wall slide open, revealing a rather amateurishly cut hole which led into a maintenance duct. "Najali" grabbed Jenala's arm and yanked. My client understood and ducked into the duct. I didn't need an invitation and followed suit. Finally, "Najali" joined us and pulled the wall panel shut. It clicked into place with the sound of solid locks engaging. "Najali" collapsed against the far wall. By now, even her clothing was gone, leaving a shivering, naked, androgynous body behind. Outside, there was shouting, the sounds of breaking glass and -- even audible back here -- Nemex's hysterical screaming.

Jenala knelt down next to the shivering bundle of flesh. "So... this is a Faceless?" she asked me.

I nodded. "But I have no fucking clue what she... it... is doing here."

"Isn't it obvious, you bloody idiots?" Despite its pathetic look, "Najali"'s voice was a stinging lash across our ears. "I'm with the fucking Nor Intelligence Service. Undercover. Or at least I was before I pulled your asses out of harm's way." The Faceless looked at Jenala. "Behind the second panel, top row, is a care kit. Do you mind?"

"O...of course not." Jenala opened the indicated panel and pulled forth a stasis canister which she handed to the fidgeting Faceless. "What just happened?"

"Najali" popped open the stasis box and rammed its hand into it. I could see several esophageai work along the length of her arm, wolfing down whatever was in the stasis case. Every chunk which traveled up its arm and into its body seemed to strengthen the shapeshifter.

"A time dilation field. My biggest psionic power. I fucking told you to hurry up, damn it!"

"You knew Nemex was inbound?" I asked.

"The moment his little fuck toy over at Stardust saw Jenala without her hood. Thankfully Nemex is nothing but predictable and before he'd come to make an appearance, he usually has a few snorts of whatever is hip right now. His current drug of choice is FeatherMist. Sends the user into a dreamlike stupor where all his senses are amplified by a factor of twelve. Probably while his groupies came all over him."