Authors: Zoe Archer
It wasn’t going to be elegant or pretty, but she pushed her uniform down so it gathered around her calves. “If I’m going to look this ridiculous, you do too.”
His eyes gleamed in the darkness. “You don’t look ridiculous. You look…real.”
“Then you’d better get real, Lieutenant Calder.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Nils also partially undressed, and in the dim radiance of the moonlight, she saw his narrow, uncovered hips, his bare legs. And his cock, upright and thick.
“Gods,” she breathed, “what I wouldn’t give for a full-sized lys-lamp. Even simu-candles. I want to
see
you.”
“It’s said that other senses compensate when one’s diminished. Touch, for example.” He reached for her, and she went willingly as they pressed together tightly.
She gasped at the feel of his bare cock rubbing against her. Some minor shred of modesty had kept her panties and tank top on, but the synth-silk fabric of her underwear was far thinner than her uniform, and it was almost like naked skin against naked skin. She felt the heat of his shaft, the smooth head, even the tiny droplet of moisture gathering at the tip.
With his clever engineer’s hands, he pulled off her tank top in a swift motion. And when those same hands gathered up her breasts, both Celene and Nils groaned in pleasure. He traced her nipples, bringing them to hard beads, and lightly pinched them. On a moan, she arched up.
“My senses are replete,” he rasped. “I feel you everywhere. But, gods, I’ve fantasized about this for so long. And now that I really have you, I can’t see you. I don’t even know the color of your nipples. They could be light or dark, and I’ve got no way of knowing.” He all but growled his words.
“Dark,” she managed to gasp as he plucked on them, sensation traveling straight between her legs.
“The color of flame plums, or
açaberries
?”
In the haze of her arousal, Celene had to laugh. “Trust you to remain fixated on quantifiables.”
“Want the full range of experience.” He bent his head and circled his tongue around her nipple, drawing forth another moan from her. “You taste sweet as an
açaberry
.”
“
Tawnyfruit
,” she breathed. “My nipples are the color of
tawnyfruit
.”
“My favorite.” He sucked the peak of her breast into his mouth, and she threaded her hands through his hair, holding him close.
“Lucky for me.”
“Lucky for
me
. But you could’ve named any fruit at all. Whatever you said would be my favorite.” Then he stopped talking, his attention fully focused on bringing her pleasure.
And he did. She’d been touched before, by men and by machines designed for pleasure. But nothing felt like this. With his incisive mind and skillful hands, only Nils could draw such pleasure from her body. They had been wanting this for far too long, and she felt his freed desire in every caress. She writhed beneath him as his mouth and hands moved over her in hot, lush exploration.
But she was a pilot, and not without her own sense of discovery. She touched him everywhere—wide shoulders, lean arms, the hard musculature of his back and lower. Beneath her palms, his buttocks tightened, and she gripped him hard. At some other point, she wanted very much to sink her teeth into that delicious ass, but that would have to wait for another time. Right now, she was famished, and the means of sating her hunger lay tantalizingly close.
She edged back enough to give her hand room for more journeying. Traced the ridges of his abdomen and the muscle that ran from each hip. Following that muscle led her to his cock, and he hissed in pleasure when she wrapped her fingers around it. He was marvelous in her hand, the living energy of him. She stroked him, up and down, giving a little twist at the head that made him groan and clench his teeth.
One of his hands dipped beneath the waistband of her panties. Finding her wet, he murmured words in a language she did not recognize, only judging by the tone that they were words of worshipful praise. She tipped her head back and made a breathless, pleasured sound. They touched one another like this, his long fingers caressing her, her hand stroking him. With his free hand, he continued to toy with her breasts, and she thanked the countless deities that he excelled at multitasking.
She felt her climax gathering. Yet abruptly he took his fingers from her. She growled her protest, though it died when she felt him tugging down her panties. She widened her legs as much as she could, and pulled him closer. He resisted, however.
His large hand covering her pussy, he murmured, “Taste. The most powerful sense.”
“No, no.” She tried to twist away. “We’ve been stomping through this inferno all day. I haven’t…” She felt herself blush. “I need to bathe. A UV shower, at least.”
Nils rolled away, and she heard him delving into one of the packs. The sound of tearing foil made her frown in curiosity.
He rolled back and held up what appeared to be a rectangular piece of fabric. “Cleanse-cloth.”
“That’s for cleaning weapons.”
She felt his smile. “Works on people too. I’ve done tests.”
Of course he had. And she certainly appreciated his thoroughness when he dipped the cleanse-cloth between her legs. The fabric was cool, moist, and it felt like the next incarnation of ecstasy as he slowly, sensuously stroked her with it. She thought she might feel embarrassed to have someone tend to her personal hygiene, but the way Nils touched her destroyed awkwardness and left only pleasure.
“Give me…one of those…cloths.” She wanted to perform the same service for him.
He shook his head. “Another time. Right now, I’ll go nova unless I taste you.”
The cleanse-cloth disappeared. And was replaced by Nils’s lips.
She pressed a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her moan. But she found herself unable to stop the wild, hoarse sounds that broke from her. She couldn’t hold herself in. Nils devastated her.
He didn’t lick at her pussy, nor press kisses there, as other men might. No, he
ate
at her, using his whole mouth—his lips and his tongue—to devour her. Drinking, nibbling.
Feasting
on her. He took her clit between his lips and sucked. He lapped at her, greedy and delicate, as if she was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. The tip of his tongue circled and dipped into her opening, firming to enter her. He fucked her in savage reverence with his mouth. Over her own furiously muffled cries, she heard groans of pleasure deep in his chest.
Her hips rose, and he pinned her down, commanding as he adored her. With her free hand, she clutched a slat of the platform, her grip tight enough to make her hand ache. She didn’t care. She was the center of the universe, all heat and pleasure.
Release tore through her. An explosion of sensation that left her a charred husk, shuddering and breathless.
But not utterly spent. Even as the last tremors shook her, she recovered enough strength to pull him up for a deep, open kiss, tasting their flavors intermingled.
“Now it’s my turn to take the controls,” she growled.
He smiled against her mouth. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.”
“On your back.”
He did so. It took some negotiating, with their uniforms tangled around their legs, but she had skills as a pilot, and maneuvered herself to straddle him. She felt more than saw the intensity of his gaze as he stared up at her, his hands on her hips, his whole body taut with need.
“If anything interrupts us now,” she breathed, “I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Nothing can stop us.”
“Better not.” She pressed her hands against the hot contours of his chest. “I want you. So much.” She’d never known need like this, that drove away all thought. All boundaries.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, hoarse.
“It’s too dark to see.”
“In the darkness or the light, you’re beautiful.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart too full and aching. The demands of her body wouldn’t let her retreat, however. She angled herself to precisely where she needed to be, and then sank down, taking him inside her.
The sensation… It engulfed her. She couldn’t hold in her sounds of pleasure as he filled her. He made feral noises, deep, masculine growls that traveled in waves through her body. They both kept still, as if stunned into immobility by the wonder of him within her, the feeling of their bodies intimately joined. Immobility couldn’t last, though. Not when an even greater pleasure arose as they moved.
He was thick and hot within her, and as she lifted up and moved down, radiating pleasure suffused her. At first, she moved with slow deliberation, savoring each slide of him. Her pace soon quickened, and he bent up, thrusting into her with deep, full strokes. She lost herself in sensation, freed from expectation, knowing she could be entirely herself with him.
She bent over him and rode him hard, just as he drove up with an unrelenting strength, and she could see enough to watch his head thrown back, the column of his neck and underside of his jaw, as his mouth opened on rough exhalations of pleasure.
Her orgasm stole thought, and seemed to obliterate the confines of her body. She felt herself everywhere, in every thing, in herself, in Nils, in the living jungle, and the sky overhead and the stars and planets scattered throughout. And as she expanded outward to encompass everything, he joined her, groaning out in release.
How much time passed, she couldn’t measure. There was only before making love with Nils, and after, and she found herself at some point carefully dressed, tucked against his side. They lay together on their platform, looking up at the star-filled sky.
She had a brief, panicked desire to grab him by the hand and drag him back to the Phantom. They could find a tiny, barely inhabited world and make a home for themselves there, hiding from PRAXIS, from the 8
th
Wing. Alone and alive.
But she pushed that desire aside. It was a fantasy, a dream that could never happen, for even if they could somehow evade the 8
th
Wing and PRAXIS, neither she nor Nils could turn their backs on duty.
On an elevated ridge, Nils and Celene took up a position. Each trained
silmät
scopes toward a point to the east.
Marek’s compound. It perched at the edge of the jungle, three of its sides surrounded by dense forest, and the fourth side facing the seething ocean.
Even from a distance of a geomile, it was evident that the waves would destroy any vessel foolish enough to brave them. Dark shapes of creatures also lurked beneath the surface of the water, large creatures who formed massive shadows under the waves. One of the sea-dwelling beasts breached, snapping up a low-flying animal, and Nils cursed to see numerous rows of jagged teeth gleaming in the beast’s mouth.
“Rules out a water approach.”
A thick perimeter wall enclosed the compound, with plasma wire atop the wall. No one could breach the wall, and if one attempted to scale it, the wire grid would reduce them to atoms. Should someone be lucky enough to get past the outer fortifications, he or she would find themselves amidst a series of buildings. A large main structure, surrounded by two smaller outbuildings.
At one corner of the compound was a landing pad. A medium-sized cruiser already occupied a spot there.
“Place looks deserted,” Celene noted. “No guards patrolling. But his ship is there.”
“Robotic sentries.” As Nils spoke, three mechanized sentinels traversed the compound, their blaster-mounted turrets continuously sweeping back and forth. “Marek’s paranoid. He already didn’t like working closely with others in Engineering. Makes sense that he’d create a haven free of all people.”
“Except himself.”
He nodded grimly. With a suspicious, intelligent mind behind the design of the compound’s security, it would make his and Celene’s objective that much more difficult. Cracking the defense systems would take all of his skill and focus. But getting inside was merely the first step. Once he and Celene
did
manage to get in, they would have to contend with the sentries. And Marek, himself.
Yet with only a few geomiles separating Nils from the traitor, he knew that turning back wasn’t an option. Marek had betrayed the 8
th
Wing, had almost cost Celene her life and freedom. For that, the traitor must be punished.
“Did you bring the holographic projector?” Celene asked.
Lowering his
silmät
scope, he pulled the device in question from his pack. He and Celene had discussed their plan before leaving the Phantom, with him making the necessary adjustments to their equipment. The implement would project the hologram of two Black Wraith ships, making it appear as if the ships approached the compound. Careful calibration ensured that, for a few minutes at least, the signatures of the projected ships would appear real to other sensors, presenting enough of a perceived threat to distract Marek. Nils and Celene would breach the perimeter during the distraction. Once inside, they would find the Black Wraith disruptor device and destroy it.
As he set up the projector, he fought to keep his attention solely on the task. His mind kept drifting back to last night, the all too brief pleasure they had shared. They had slept in shifts, and all he had wanted to do was lay beside her, sleep with her in his arms. But he’d had to stay awake and vigilant for his shift, and had kept himself alert with running scenarios about the mission.
If he and Celene survived, if they made it back to base, would they have more nights like the one they shared? Or had it been a one-time event, never to be repeated? Would she even want to be seen with him?
A scene played out in his mind, clear as a high-def vid: him, walking down a corridor on base, seeing Celene with her Black Wraith buddies coming toward him. Pretending he didn’t exist. Her gaze never meeting his.
Could NerdWorks and an ace fighter pilot really make it? He wasn’t sure, and she hadn’t said anything about what might come after the mission.
Damn it, don’t think about that now. Just get the gear set up. Then survive the next thirty minutes.
“Might want to delay the projector,” she said. “Another distraction has arrived.”
He glanced up and cursed. A PRAXIS clipper appeared on the horizon, and seemed to be heading straight toward Marek’s compound.
“The hells…?” Nils turned his scope up to the PRAXIS ship. “This planet’s a lot more popular than I’d thought. Or Marek serves a really nice cup of
kahve.
”
“It’s not
kahve
that brings PRAXIS here.” Celene growled. “The bastard’s going to sell the disruptor to them.” Which was precisely what the 8
th
Wing feared.
He and Celene shared a look. “Lucky we showed up when we did. We can prevent the sale.”
“Yes, but it also means the timing of this operation has accelerated. We’ve got to get into the compound and destroy the disruptor before PRAXIS can get its hands on it.”
Immediately, he and Celene jumped to their feet. After securing their packs and checking their weapons, they jogged down the rise, and began pushing hard through the jungle, toward the compound.
“Marek will drop some of the shields to permit PRAXIS to land,” he noted, shouldering aside several hanging vines. “We won’t need the holographic projector.”
She remained stone-faced, the look he now knew well. Her battle mask, behind which she retreated to get herself in the proper mindset for combat. It had nothing to do with him. Taking his cues from her, he forced icy calm to thread through his body and mind. He could think only of achieving success, and not dwell on what may or may not happen afterward. Doubt had no place on a mission. Particularly one with stakes this high.
They kept a brutal pace, sliding through the jungle at top speed. By the time they reached the base of the perimeter wall, he felt certain he had lost ten pounds in sweat alone. Keeping back to the shelter of the forest, they eyed the wall. It stood approximately ten meters high, and the plasma wire continued up for three additional meters, its fatal beams crackling with red energy.
“We move quickly.” She nodded toward the sky, where the PRAXIS clipper hovered above the compound. Its thrusters rotated in preparation for landing. “Now.”
She and Nils slipped to the base of the wall. He stuck a palm-sized device on the barricade, and punched in a numeric sequence. Tiny lights within blinked. A low hum sounded. And then a narrow section of the plasma wire directly above sputtered out.
They didn’t have time to linger. The PRAXIS thrusters roared, kicking up dust, as the ship slowly lowered for landing.
She shot a grappling hook from a handheld apparatus. Her aim was good, and the hook lodged itself at the top of the wall. She tugged on the attached line, ensuring its security. Satisfied, she grabbed hold of the rope.
Fluid and lethal, she began to climb. He took a breath, rubbed his palms on his thighs to dry his hands, and then he, too, began his ascent.
Celene knew herself in battle. She’d been on enough missions, in the midst of danger. Readiness settled over her like cation armor, protecting her, allowing her to see precisely what she must, directing her thoughts. It wasn’t autopilot, for she controlled herself, but she saw the flight plan laid out before her. Following that plan was the only thing required.
She pulled herself up, hand over hand, her legs doing most of the work by pushing her higher. Tugs on the rope below her revealed that Nils kept pace. She didn’t slow to check on him. In order for this objective to succeed, she had to trust that he’d keep up.
Reaching the top of the wall, she quickly surveyed the interior of the compound. The PRAXIS ship was landing, but no one stood by the landing pad to greet the visitors. If Marek was as paranoid as Nils claimed, he wouldn’t come out into the open and leave himself vulnerable. His PRAXIS clients would have to come to him.
In the cover of the dust kicked up by the landing ship, she slid through the narrow gap in the plasma wire atop the wall. Its heat vibrated over her body, and she slowed her breathing to ensure she didn’t come in contact with the fatal energy. She heard Nils coming up the wall, close behind, but there wouldn’t be room for both of them at the top, so she took another grappling hook from her pack and secured it for the descent.
“Not yet,” she whispered to him as he neared the top of the wall. “Have to time it going down so we don’t run into the sentries.”
“Give the signal when you think it’s best.”
A sentry rolled just below, precisely where she’d be when she descended. She kept the rope attached to the hook in her hands, lest the robotic guard’s sensors detected it and was alerted to their presence. Finally, the sentry rolled away, and she let the line fall.
“Going down now,” she whispered over her shoulder. Gripping the line, she slid down, landing in an easy crouch. Her weapon was already in her hand.
Nils followed moments later. Once he was on the ground, she disengaged the grappling hook on the interior of the wall. She stowed the hook and rope in her pack. They gave each other hand signs to indicate that they were both ready to move forward.
The main building in the compound was a single-story structure, its walls appearing to be reinforced and very thick. Only a single entryway. No windows. This, too, fit the pattern of extreme paranoia. In there, somewhere, was the disruptor. And Marek.
She and Nils ducked behind a generator outbuilding to observe the PRAXIS contingent being escorted from the landing pad by one of the sentries. The brilliant white uniforms of the enemy stood out against the dull concrete gray of the compound. A senior officer and three regulars comprised the delegation, and, judging by the scowl on the officer’s face, he didn’t appreciate being treated with such hostile suspicion.
The PRAXIS representative and his guards followed the sentry to the lone entryway. Before she could grab her
silmät
scope, Nils already had done so, and had it trained on the control panel by the entrance. He watched as the sentry entered in some kind of code, and the door slid open.
He swore under his breath. “It’s a continuously altering system. The code is never the same.”
“But you can hack it.”
“Of course I can. It’ll just take a little longer than I’d like.”
PRAXIS entered the main building, and the door slid shut behind them with a ringing clang. With its duty discharged, the robotic guard returned to its patrol. Thirty meters stood between where she and Nils hid and the entrance to the main structure. Thirty meters with no source of cover.
“A run and gun is going to be tight,” she said. “Three armed robots against two humans. Not good odds. They’ll reduce us to vapor while you hack the door.”
He frowned, deep in thought. “Might be able to equalize the odds. Turn them to our favor.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
He rifled through his pack until he produced a hand-held device. “This will hack into their wireless command net and override it.”
“And have three robot sentries on our side.” She grinned. “Excellent plan.”
“Same principles of Nifalian chess. Transform the opponent’s pawns into your own, surround the king, take the crown.”
“Why’s it always chess with you?” But she smiled as she asked this.
He shrugged. “Before this mission, it was my sole referent for excitement.”
“And now…?”
His raffish grin charmed her, even in the midst of danger. “I’m going to have some good stories when we get back to base.”
A thought flared—when they returned, would he brag to his Engineering pals about getting into Stainless Jur’s flight suit?
She pushed that troubling thought from her mind. It would only distract her. “Let’s get these robots off our backs.”
He got to work on the device, swiftly manipulating its controls. “The command codes are constantly rewriting themselves,” he muttered. “I’ll only be able to control one of the sentries.”
“Do whatever you can.”
A moment later, he said, “It’s done. I’ve sent the guard a new command stream.”
One of the robot sentries stopped in its patrol. As another sentry passed, it turned its devastating weapon on one of the approaching sentries. Destroying the gun turret. The fired-upon guard was now a smoldering collection of metal.
The remaining sentry began to fire on their robot ally.
“The sensors will read this as a system malfunction.” Nils pocketed the hacking device. “Not an attack.”
“Then we take advantage of the distraction.” She jumped to her feet and ran toward the main building. He was fast at her side.
They reached the entryway to the main building, and she kept watch as Nils worked furiously to hack the system.
Finally, the entry door opened, but only wide enough for a person to slide in sideways.
“Now where?” she muttered once they were inside. She glared at the maze of metal panel-lined hallways that stretched on all sides. The building certainly hadn’t looked so large or complex from the outside.
He consulted the tracking device he’d taken from the Phantom. It continued to trace the location of the disruptor. “This way.”
He jogged down one of the corridors, with her trailing after him, her eyes and weapon in constant motion as she scanned for threats.
They rounded a corner, and another, then flattened back as a hail of plasma fire erupted. Carefully peering around the corner, she saw the PRAXIS guards had taken up position outside an interior chamber. The door behind them closed quickly, its locks engaging with a loud hiss. The PRAXIS officer was nowhere to be seen.
“He’s got to be inside with Marek.” She returned fire.
“Then that’s where we need to be,” answered Nils. He also shot back at the PRAXIS troops. Quickly, he glanced down at the tracking device. “The disruptor’s in there, as well.”
She smiled grimly. “One-stop shopping.” He frowned at her, not understanding, and she shook her head. “An ancient expression. Someone used it in a history vid.”
Three PRAXIS guards to two 8
th
Wing soldiers. Unbalanced, but she’d been in worse spots. She shot as fast and accurately as two ordinary soldiers—resulting in a stalemate. She and Nils kept trading fire with the guards, unable to advance. There was no other way into the inner chamber, however.