The Used Child: Tristan, #3

By Sylvain St-Pierre

Child, victim, pawn, trap?

Alex has found Tristan, but things don't go as either want.

Refusing to leave Tristan's side, Alex is forced to work with Tristan on a job: kidnapping a child. Alex is torn between proving his worth and protecting the child from Tristan, while Tristan is torn between his own feelings and keeping up his control.

When the job goes wrong, the three are forced to run as the universe throws everything it can at them. Will Tristan be able to hold onto his masks? Or will Alex's human emotions prematurely end their partnership, and put the child Alex has sworn to defend in danger?

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Tiger Writes
• Release date: Jun 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393470045

Sylvain St-Pierre

Sylvain St-Pierre has been writing and making up stories for longer than he can remember, and driving a truck for the last fifteen years. He write stories in multiple genres, but with a usual focus on guys in relationships with other guys. The majority of his books are Furry in nature, with most dealing with gay relationships, and some being erotica. As a self-published author any support you can provide would be greatly appreciated. If you liked this book, consider buying his other titles, or support his Patreon at www.patreon.com/kindar Sylvain Can be contacted at : [e-mail]

Book preview

Chapter 01

Alex slammed his hands on each side of the small corridor as the ship lurched, or maybe he just thought it did that. He should have stayed in the chair and let the cryo sickness pass. His muscles barely wanted to obey him, and his stomach was more interested in jumping around than staying put. At least the fog in his mind cleared quickly enough this time.

What he should really have done was find himself a better class of mercenaries to travel with, if there was such a thing. He’d yet to come across one that used a field cryo system instead of the blood-replacement one. That system he could use without getting sick.

He made it two steps and was plastered against the wall as the ship maneuvered too hard for the inertia dampener to keep up with it. Another thing mercs didn’t seem to bother with was quality. This meant that first lurch probably hadn’t been caused by the sickness. At least nothing exploded.

The door to the bridge opened and he entered the small space. Three stations were occupied, and there was hardly space for the five others to stand and wait around for orders. He saw a thin crescent of a planet before the ship turned, and it disappeared. This time the dampener kept up, and he didn’t feel the motion.

He watched the stars and told his body to behave. Unless you forgot your part of the deal, he said as he ignored the near panic in the pilot’s body language, that’s the planet where I’m getting off. You should be aiming toward it, not away.

Yeah? the woman standing behind the pilot said, her eyes on the screens. That plan didn’t take into account those bastards waiting for us.

Captain, we had an arrangement. Alex didn’t hide his annoyance at her. I gave you six subjective months of the easiest scores you’ve ever seen, and you get me to Terion Two. Unless your pilot screwed things up, and that wasn’t Terion Two, I don’t care who’s after you.

She looked away from the screens to glare at him.

The pilot cursed as something flew in front of them, and there was a momentary flash of light. The ship shook again.

Listen here, Crimson. Do you have any idea how hard it is to control this kind of ship in atmosphere? No, you don’t. She continued without letting him reply. Maybe you’re okay with dying, but I intend to live on for a very long time, so I’m trying to do my job. The ship banked hard enough they were all sent against the wall. Alex barely avoided being crushed by the bodies. She grabbed hold of the pilot’s seat and pulled herself back up. Who the fuck are these people?

Bounty hunters was Alex’s guess. He’d advised her not to stick to her usual targets for this stretch, to change it up to avoid attracting attention, but once he’d given her a demonstration of what he was capable of doing, she’d lined up the highest scores she could find on her way here. Three of them were enough for anyone with a good pattern recognition program to notice. She’d squeezed in seven hits in the six months Alex worked for her.

She should’ve considered herself lucky bounty hunters were all these were. If the Anti-Coercion Division had been here, this would have been the end of the line. But while she’d done everything she could to attract attention, he’d been careful to vary his methods from one coercion to the other to hide the fact this was one person’s work. One brush with the ACD was all he wanted in his lifetime.

Is he bothering you, Boss? The man speaking, crossing his arms, was Malek. He was the crew’s muscle, a little taller than Alex, much broader, but dumb. He only enjoyed two things: sex and breaking limbs. He hated Alex because he wouldn’t say yes to the first, so he had been looking for excuses to do the second to him.

What are you doing here, Malek? She glared at the man. She’d been too busy studying their situation to notice him before. You know the rules, get back to your cabin.

But he— the brute began.

Now, Malek. Crimson is going to make himself useful or get off my bridge. She looked at the other people. The same goes to you. Unless you can contribute, go strap in; this might be rough. She looked back at the screens and whispered something to the pilot. The star field moved, the only thing telling Alex they were maneuvering.

He crossed his arms and contemplated his options, tapping his fingers on his arm. The job was over. He didn’t take orders once that was done. He could let her know what he thought of her thinking she could keep ordering him around, but he wasn’t groundside yet. If he wanted to get there, he needed to help.

You, he told the man sitting at the communication station. Move. If I’m going to help, I need your board.

What? The man looked at him with a stunned expression. He was the almost exact opposite of Malek, except for the brain. He didn’t have much of one either.

You heard him, Decker, she said. Give him the board.

Decker stood and Alex took his place. He put the earpiece in, turning it in his ear to try and get it to fit comfortably, but it wouldn’t. He missed his old earpiece. It had been form-fitted to him, and had been top of the line when he’d left Luminex with it, but that had been over five subjective years ago, so what? Fifteen objective? Twenty? It had only been a question of time before it became obsolete. He’d acquired this one from the manufacturer directly—the best on the market, their advertising division had been ready to announce, but Alex had seen to it that it wouldn’t be released when they had planned. He’d destroyed all documents about it, forcing them to start from scratch and giving himself a few objective years with nothing to compete with.

Alright, let’s see what you have to say. He called the other ship.

You aren’t an authorized contact. Please disconnect now.

Alex smiled. My, polite, aren’t you? He sent half a dozen programs in before even bothering to pay attention to the code. Tell me, is that part of your core? Or is your onboard coercionist too much of a wimp to want to deal with a system with an actual personality?

This line of inquiry is irrelevant. Please disconnect before I initiate countermeasures.

Alex studied the code on the screen. You’re wrong, it’s relevant. If I know the kind of coercionist that works with you, I’ll have an idea of how you’ll try to stop me. For example, you didn’t try to push me out the moment I made contact, that tells me the coercionist is confident. You haven’t contacted him yet, so they trust you to handle simple intrusions, which this isn’t. Alex made a few changes to the code. By the way, you gave me time to do this to you.

The system sent antibodies looking for unauthorized changes, but it was too late. Overconfident coercionists often translated into overconfident systems.

So, how about you tell me the status of my connection?

You are connected via an approved, secured port. The tone indicated he should already know that.

See, if I hadn’t been able to work out the kind of coercionist that worked with you, I wouldn’t have known I could just waltz in and make changes. Who is your coercionist, anyway?

Alex shifted through the two-dimensional representation of the code, looking for the next place he needed to make changes. He missed three-dimensional, fully interactive displays. He so wished they were standard. All he needed to do with those was put his hands in the middle of the code and he could paint with it. None of this slogging through layers represented by varying shades.

An annoyance more than an actual problem.

You are not authorized for that information. Alex mouthed the words as the system said them.

Do you have any idea how boring it is that each and every one of you says exactly the same thing when I ask this? Can’t one of you come up with a different response? Just once?

He recognized the code handling the targeting system and altered it. He didn’t simply misalign it; he installed a randomizing component. Changes to this system would raise an alarm, but at least now they wouldn’t be able to shoot them down while he worked.

Why did you do that? Antibodies flooded the system, attempting to repair it.

Stop that, you have more important things to deal with.

Such as? the system asked.

Really? I made it this deep in your code and you have to ask me what might be more important than fixing the targeting system? Come on, give me a challenge here. I’m getting bored.

You are an approved contact, why would I try to remove you?

See? That’s what I mean, I’ve taken control without even you noticing. Sure, you’re an older model, but that’s no excuse. So come on, who’s the onboard coercionist? A name appeared.

Alex launched a search. Nothing impressive came back. A few warrants for bodily harm, minor theft, and one destruction of property. Typical stuff for a bounty hunter.

No school known for teaching coercion came back. No warrant for unauthorized coercion. This person was self-taught. Any good coercionist could remove a warrant, but not one of them would erase where they had gotten their education. The pedigree was too important to backing up what you claimed you could do.

That didn’t mean this wasn’t a good coercionist. The best one Alex had come across since leaving Luminex had taught herself the basics and built on that with his help. The last time he’d mounted an attack on the Golly’s Yacht, Asyr and Golly had at least managed to kick him out. The ship had sent an apology for the treatment after the fact, but their friendship hadn’t stopped Asyr from infiltrating the computer he was working from and dismantling everything but the core and antibodies.

Infiltrating the Golly? Now that was a fun challenge. This? Alex yawned. Okay, here’s what is going to happen. When I give you the order, you’re going to go to sleep for twelve hours. When you wake up, you are going to do a reset back to your pre-install state.

Why would I do that?

Because I’m telling you to.

Yes, of course.

See? Boring. I tell you to erase decades of your personality and you just agree to do it. You’re not supposed to make it that easy.

But it is what you told me to do.

I know. He sighed. Go to sleep.

The connection terminated, and he took out the earpiece. He rubbed his ear. Maybe there was someone on this planet who could do the delicate work needed to reshape the end.

I’ve bought you six hours, maybe more, depending on how incompetent their coercionist is.

You said twelve, Malek said. I heard you. Decker nodded.

Weren’t you supposed to leave? No, don’t bother, but that tells me how well you hear. Yes, I told it to sleep for twelve hours. But since you weren’t peering over my shoulder, you didn’t see how hard the code fought me, so you’ll want to count on six hours. The lie was easy; it wasn’t like any of them could read code. Maybe he was wasting energy lying, but he wanted to be dropped off as soon as possible. If they thought their time was short? He’d be groundside that much sooner.

Unless… Alex didn’t like the speculative expression on the captain’s face.

Please don’t, he said. She was contemplating convincing him to stay.

She gave him a smile that he guessed would be seductive if he went for her type, but she was a woman, and human, so it just looked forced. I could make it worth your while.

He sighed. No, you can’t, and we had a deal.

She leaned against the pilot’s chair and crossed her arm over her ample chest. I think you’re forgetting the fact that you are on my ship, and that Malek and Decker work for me.

He so didn’t want to have to go through this again. Each time it was the same. They reached an agreement, and once it was over, they decided they wanted to renegotiate the job. Were the Golly’s crew the only honorable pirates out there? Even Anders, for all the times he tried to kill Alex, had only tried it directly twice.

How certain are you this is your ship? Alex asked.

Let me convince him, Boss, Malek said, rubbing a fist with a hand.

Unless you want to have to hire a new bed-warmer, you’re going to tell him to stay on his side of the bridge. Alex placed a hand on the pommel of the knife. She hadn’t seen him fight, but hopefully the implied threat would be enough.

Don’t antagonize your new teammate, Malek. It isn’t like he can do much on my ship. Raile, start plotting a course away from here. Anywhere will do for now.

Malek growled. The pilot began working.

We had a deal, Captain, which ended with you dropping me off here. Are you, or are you not, going to honor it?

Why in such a hurry to leave? The planet isn’t going anywhere. And isn’t making us richer so much more satisfying? I must say, I never realized how useful a man like you could be.

I can give you the name of a dozen coercionists who’ll be happy to work for you. I have business here. At least he did if Tristan was there. This was the last place on the list of possible hideouts, so he hoped Tristan was. Alex had no idea what he was going to do if this was a dead end.

Are they as good as you?

Alex laughed. No, but they’re good enough to get the job done. Asyr was the only one who could give him a good run for his money, but she’d never leave the Golly, it was her home.

I see, so why should I settle for second best, when I have you?

Don’t double-cross me, Captain.

She smiled. Don’t think of this as a double-cross. Think of it as an employment opportunity. I’m sure you realize how difficult the job market can be for a man in your position.

Alex rubbed his face. Okay, maybe the direct approach would work? Alright, fine. Just answer me this: who’s your coercionist?

Why, you are, Mister Crimson. The smile she gave him was one of victory.

And how impressive is what I’ve done for you over the last six months?

Mister Crimson, would I be offering you this opportunity if I wasn’t thoroughly impressed?

Good, then please answer me this. How the hell do you think you still have control of this ship?

She froze.

They all did. They were always so damned certain of the superiority of their positions that they never bothered asking the simple questions. Like if the coercionist was any good, what would be the first thing he’d do upon boarding the ship he was traveling on?

Alex took the knife out of the sheath. Tell Malek to stay where he is.

She raised a hand. Don’t do anything, Malek. She studied Alex. You’re bluffing.

Really?

Ship, acknowledge, Alex said.

Acknowledged. The computer’s voice came from the speaker.

Bridge lights, off.

The bridge became dark, except for the yellows and oranges of the stations’ controls, and the green and brown of the planet they could see again through the screen.

Alex stepped aside as Malek threw himself at him. So damned predictable. Alex grabbed his arm, slammed the pommel of his knife in the side of the man’s head, and pushed him back. Malek stumbled against the captain.

She pushed him off. I told you not to do anything.

He— Malek couldn’t form any more words as he stumbled about.

And you thought that hurting him was going to fix this?

Malek grabbed the wall to stay standing and nodded.

Get out of here. She pointed to the door. To your cabin, and don’t get out until I call for you.

The brute left the bridge, still using the walls for support. The look he gave Alex as he exited might have been a glare, but in the low light he couldn’t tell, or care.

Do you think I’m impressed by this? With one button I can bring the lights back up.

Alex stared at her. She couldn’t seriously think she still had the upper hand.

Boss, the pilot said, tapping his screen.

She ignored him. Am I supposed to believe this little trick means you control anything? This is my—

Boss! She looked at him, but before either could say anything, Alex continued.

Ship, Alex said, other than audio capabilities and gravity, shut everything down.

The darkness on the bridge became near-absolute as the only source of light was the distant stars visible through the forward window. Other than their breathing, the ship was silent. No engine noise, none of the near-subliminal sounds of the life support system. No constant vibration under their feet.

The ship was dead in space.

When he spoke, Alex’s voice sounded louder, even to him. Maybe you’re going to take me seriously now? I don’t get how you can be surprised. You’ve seen me do exactly this to every ship you’ve targeted. It’s what I do. Did you think your ship was somehow immune because I was on it?

He heard tapping, switches being flicked. Nothing’s responding, Boss, Raile said.

Really? she replied sarcastically. How could I have not realized that if you hadn’t told me? Ship, power on.

Nothing happened.

They were silent.

She sighed. How do I know you won’t leave something in my ship’s computers to blow us up the moment you’re off it?

You don’t. For all you know, the next time you go under cryo, you’re never going to wake up. Maybe I told it to ignore standard procedures to wake you up as you reach your destination and just hit that planet, or station, or whatever’s going to be there. That’s something you’ll want to keep in mind, the next time you decide to double-cross someone with a set of skills you don’t understand.

He waited.

Silence.

Well? he asked.

You’ve made your point.

Chapter 02

Alex felt the heat of the engine blasting away as he ran. They hadn’t waited for him to be at a safe distance, and instead of a slow takeoff, she’d had them throw the engine at max.

Once he no longer felt the heat, he stopped and looked up. He should have left them a surprise for that. Still could; the buoy was in contact with the ship, and coercing that would be easy. He put the case containing the Defender down as he watched the ship vanish, and his pack joined it. He decided not to bother. Their paranoia would do the work for him.

He took his jacket off and looked it over. The back had a few lines of carbon, darker over the gray armor, but that fell off when he brushed them with a hand, and the jacket was intact underneath. He brushed the back of his pants and his hand came away with more carbon, but those too were intact.

If either had been damaged, he’d have blown them up right there…maybe. No, it would be months before they reached a station, and he could imagine them staying awake the entire time. In a locked ship that size, with those kinds of personalities… He smiled to himself, wondering which one would be left alive after all that time.

He looked around at the fifteen permacrete buildings large enough to only hold one ship each, and some couldn’t be more than two-person shuttles and a permacrete landing pad in the center of them.

This was supposed to be a port? Where was the control center? He looked up at the clear sky. Okay, so this place might not have the kind of traffic requiring someone ready to help out at a moment’s notice, but still, this wasn’t the edge of the universe. It was barely the edge of explored space.

He’d expected more. The automated buoy had led him to think there was more here. He fingered his earpiece. Had the thing lied to him? Maybe this was why Terion Two had been at the bottom of the list he’d taken from the Law officer. Could Tristan really be hiding here? He hadn’t been in any of the other locations on the list. If he wasn’t here… Alex didn’t want to think about that.

He took out his datapad, and after connecting to the buoy, brought up the local map. No large population center, which was where he expected the Samalian to thrive. A place to carouse, charm guys, and enjoy the spoils of his crimes.

He found the town on the map, a loose collection of thirty buildings, with the same number spread out over miles around it. That wasn’t a town. That barely qualified as a settlement, and this place had been around for over a hundred years, according to the buoy. What did they do? Chase new arrivals with pitchforks and torches?

He threw his pack over his shoulder. He wouldn’t find out if Tristan was here or not by staying here. He grabbed the case and straightened as a man crested the hill, walking along the dirt path leading to the town. Alex put the case back down and decided to wait for him.

At half the distance he made out the gun at the man’s hip, and the ease with which he walked showed the man was used to its weight. For a moment Alex thought he was in one of those old settlement vids, and that the man would greet him with a, howdy, or a, how’d’u do, sir, with the tip of a hat.

But the man didn’t have a hat, and when he was close enough he didn’t have to shout, he said, Afternoon. We don’t get much visitors in these parts. Sorry for taking so long. I’m Jacoby, what passes as portmaster.

Alex nodded in greeting, but didn’t say anything. He couldn’t place the accent, but it wasn’t like he should have expected to. With the way SpaceGov enforced the use of Standard Speech, accents were the only way any society could express their individualism. So long as the accent didn’t make the language unrecognizable, SpaceGov let it be.

What he could place was the body language. The man was alert, but calm. Mercenary, or maybe retired. Alex had worked with enough people in the life to recognize them on sight. Jacoby had probably identified him as such too.

The man’s hand stayed close to the grip of his gun, a large model that on anyone younger he would think was for show. Alex’s own gun was in his pack. He’d decided a long time ago that arriving in a new place wearing it sent the wrong message. He wasn’t looking for a fight. The knife at his belt was enough to let anyone looking to start something know he wouldn’t back down. And the half-dozen hidden on his person could be used to make the point clearer if needed.

They didn’t stay, Jacoby said. How’ll you be leaving?

I’ll make my own arrangements when the time comes. Maybe someone here can give me a ride.

Folks here aren’t known for traveling much. The man looked up. They in a hurry to leave? They left their exhaust on you. When he looked down, he motioned to Alex’s blackened hand.

The deal was for them to drop me off. They have places to be.

Got anything to do with the dead ship floating out there?

Alex shook his head. Just sleeping. They’ll get going in a few hours. He looked up. The exhaust trail was still visible, but the atmospheric winds would dissipate that. The only thing that ship would be able to confirm was that their quarry had skimmed the atmosphere. Of course, unless they were idiots, they’d know it could have landed and taken off. They might decide to drop down and check.

When they call to find out if I got any visitors, you want me to tell them no?

Alex leveled his gaze on the man. Why would you do that?

Jacoby shrugged. Got a policy here. So long as you don’t cause trouble, it’s not my job to put people on your back.

So you’re what? The local law, on top of being the portmaster?

Another shrug. Nothing official, but like you, I’ve lived the life. If what you’re looking to do is get away from that, this ain’t such a bad place to do so.

Alex shook his head. I’m just passing through. I’m looking for a friend who might be staying here. He couldn’t see himself staying in a place like this, even if he wasn’t looking for Tristan.

We don’t have anyone else from the life here, Jacoby said. Mainly farmers and folks who wanted a life away from all the hubbub.

Yeah, this doesn’t really look like his kind of place. Alex smiled. But you know how it goes. It’s that one place you were sure he’d never go to that he ends up settling on, so I figured I’d check it out. If he’s here, you can’t have missed him. Samalian, a head taller than me, brown fur so dark it could be black, an—

Jacoby tensed. His hand was on the butt of his gun. Relaxed, but ready to pull it out. I thought you said your friend was from the life?

Alex fought the urge to reach for his knife. I said this wasn’t his kind of place, not that he was a mercenary. He kept his breathing steady. If Jacoby decided this needed to turn violent, Alex would have to react instantly. There was this story he’d heard about bringing a knife to a gun fight, but what no one seemed to realize was that an expertly thrown knife could end the fight before the gun was out of the holster.

Jacoby studied him, must have noticed something in Alex’s body language, because he moved his hand away from his gun. But not so much he couldn’t go for it if needed.

He’s here? Alex didn’t bother hiding his surprise. How many dark-furred Samalians could there be off Samalia?

I didn’t say that.

Alex smiled. You were ready enough to shoot me. You often feel that protective about people who aren’t here? What was Tristan doing here? Unless there was something about this town or planet that had been carefully hidden, it had nothing of value.

Alright, so maybe I do know who you mean. What’s he to you?

A— Alex took the time to study Jacoby. Outright lies wouldn’t do him any good now. He’s someone I know. I met him a few years ago, subjective.

And what? You decided now was the time to get reacquainted?

Alex shook his head. Been looking for him pretty much all this time. He isn’t an easy man to find.

Could be a reason for that.

I expect there is.

Jacoby relaxed a fraction more. What do you want with him?

Alex tapped the case with a toe. I’m returning something of his.

He left that with you?

Alex thought back to that day. He had to leave in a hurry. I doubt he remembers he’d bought it.

Why don’t you show me? Careful like.

Moving slowly and keeping his hands visible he crouched, unlatched the case and opened it.

Jacoby glanced down, then studied the statue of the Defender.

Alex knew the effect the sandy colored stone Samalian had on people who’d met Samalians. Even with the damage and faded colors, the details were impressive. The curved swords, one held, the other on the ground. The look of resolve in those painted eyes that spoke of the pain he could cause to anyone who dared threaten what he protected.

Jacoby looked like it took an effort to look away. All this way, just for that? There was disbelief in his voice, but he didn’t tense.

It has sentimental value. He didn’t need to know the value was to Alex rather than Tristan.

That…friend of yours, he got a name?

Alex closed the case. Would he go by Tristan? That was a common enough name among humans, but for a Samalian? For a Samalian wanted by SpaceGov? Tristan had used plenty of aliases over his long career, but his look was as distinctive as his name.

I knew him as Jack. I doubt he still uses that name.

If anyone here knew who Tristan was, they’d try to capture him for the reward, or call in bounty hunters. Either action would have had the same result; this place would’ve been erased off SpaceGov’s registry. Tristan wouldn’t be captured by anyone.

Jacoby took his time replying, his gaze on Alex as he stood. The man was thinking hard, he could see that. What about? He couldn’t be sure.

Unlike what the vids showed, mercs didn’t have a code. There was a reason they were both loved and despised by the corporations and SpaceGov. If there was enough money involved, a merc would do just about anything. One individual merc might have scruples, but there would always be one willing to commit that unimaginable act of atrocity.

We call him Tech, Jacoby finally said. On account of him knowing so much about machines and stuff.

Alex nodded. This did confirm it could be him. What’s his name?

Just Tech. We don’t prod here. Jacoby indicated one of the buildings. First thing I saw him do when I got here was fix up Cornelius’s ship.

Why did he do that?

She had to rush off in a hurry. I offered mine, but hers had all this medical stuff. I guess that whatever took her away needed that. Tech fixed it, so she could go. When she came back, he went over it again. Fixed it good enough she hasn’t had any problem since.

Just like that? He fixed it for her? That couldn’t be him. Tristan didn’t help people unless he needed something from them. Maybe that was it? She’d done a job for him? No, Tristan used people, he didn’t trust them. Unless she didn’t know what she’d been doing for him? Maybe obtaining something illegal? But then why repair the ship afterward?

Tech’s a nice guy. He’s fixed just about everything that’s been broken here.

Could there be two dark-furred Samalians? It did sound like it. So this might be a waste of time. But he’d be here for months, even if he could find someone to pick him up now. Unless he asked that ship when it woke up? That would fall under the stupider stuff he’d done in his quest to find Tristan.

He might as well go check this Samalian out. Where can I find this Tech?

You willing to give me your word?

What about?

Tech’s part of this community. I want your word you’re not going to cause him trouble. If you’re here to hurt him, I got a cot over there. You can stay there until someone’s here to pick you up.

As one man from the life to the other, I promise, I’m not here to hurt him. Alex wouldn’t trust a merc to keep his word, but he did his best to keep his.

You’re lucky. He got back a couple of weeks ago. Right now he’ll be home, but unless something needs fixing at one of the farms, by the time you get to town, he’s going to be at Diny’s Tavern. He always eats lunch there.

Alex picked up the case. Thanks. How long has he lived here?

Jacoby shrugged. Don’t know for sure. I’ve been here forty, subjective, and he was already here. We’re not all that keen on documenting stuff here. Ninety years is what I’ve heard for how long he’s had the land. He travels a lot. He indicated one of the larger buildings. That’s his ship in there. He got a new one this last trip. Nice one too.

Alex glanced at the building, but was too surprised by what he’d learned to see it. Ninety years? There was no way Tristan had kept a base of operation for that long. Every other base he’d gone too had been abandoned after only a few years, some as fast as only one job.

He looked at the path, toward the town. None of this made sense.

How do I find this tavern? He slung his pack over his shoulder.

Just follow the path, it’ll take you to the middle of town. Jacoby smiled. When you reach the fountain, just look left.

Okay. Alex picked up the case. Are you escorting me there? To ensure my good behavior?

Jacoby snorted. You gave me your word. Anyway, I need to see to the buoy. If I’m going to tell that ship no one landed, I can’t have it make a liar out of me if they question it directly.

Alex began walking.

But, Jacoby said, if you decide to break your word, I don’t care just how good you think you are out there. I am going to put you down.

Alex didn’t reply. He didn’t even slow his pace.

The walk was quiet, and not as boring as he’d expected. The SpaceGov registry had this planet at the bottom of the colonization scale, so Alex had expected a mostly barren world, with a breathable atmosphere and maybe a few patches of green. This might’ve been the only area with land that could be used for farms, but Alex recalled seeing a decent amount of green as they landed.

Now, if he were to take a second look at the registry, he wouldn’t be surprised to find subtle traces of coercion.

He smiled as he enjoyed the walk and the air. He tried to remember when he’d last walked planetside, let alone been anywhere without any of the chemicals used to make the air breathable on corporate worlds.

Fryon? No, he’d had to shuttle to the mountain. Dublundor? It had to be that one. The world had been humid and overgrown, and there hadn’t been any way to see anything resembling a building where the sensor picked up power. He’d had to land and trek through the vegetation to reach what had turned out to be the ruins of a building. The power generator still worked, but nothing was connected to it. There had been a battle there, and after that any intact technology had been hauled away.

By the time the town came into view, he wished he’d had a hover ride. He was going to add that to the list of things to get, which meant acquiring a larger shuttle, unless he went for one of those hoverpacks.

The buildings were more varied here. Some of them still had the permacrete underpinning, but most were built of wood, stone, and something that might’ve been the local equivalent of permacrete. This wasn’t the work of people in a hurry to have shelter, or staying only long enough to get a specific job done.

This was people settling for the long haul. Laying down roots. He could see filigree in the wood and around windows, stones meticulously arranged to form a foundation. One had a scene sculpted in the permacrete equivalent. Another had a forest scene painted on one side, and he saw reds, oranges, and browns in the other side as he walked to the center of the buildings.

He noticed Diny’s Tavern before he’d reached the fountain. Jacoby hadn’t needed to tell him to look left; there was no way he could have missed it. It was a two-story structure, the bottom part made of rough-hewed gray-green stones. The second story was built out of a golden wood, which he at first thought had been painted that color.

The door had a wooden banner over it, moving in the breeze, with a busty woman painted in bright colors, carrying a tray filled with food in one hand and a tankard of something foamy in the other. She had a smile on her face that hinted that she might be willing to offer other services, if you were so inclined and had the money.

It certainly said, eating establishment.

He stood by the fountain. It was circular, made of stones and without any water. There was a pedestal in the center, and the tubing to connect to the part that would spew the water, but that was missing.

He looked around, attracting the gaze of some of the people walking or standing around the buildings, but none of them came to ask him what he was doing there. Except for them wearing modern clothing and that the hovers looked to be no more than twenty years old, he could be standing in an old settlement vid. He hadn’t thought there was anyone left who lived this way.

He headed for the tavern, falling in line with the people also heading there, but not talking with them. Inside it was one large room with a bar at the back, tables spread in the center, and stairs going to the second story.

Whatever he thought about the room was derailed when he saw the Samalian seated at a table on the far wall, reading on a datapad.

The room went silent as Alex’s heart stilled.

The coloring was almost right, just a shade lighter than what he remembered, but the smattering of white in his fur? The star field in a dark night that he’d lost himself in so often? He’d never forget what that had looked on Jack’s chest.

Any lingering doubts left him as the Samalian looked away from the datapad and their eyes met. He’d only seen them once, when he’d found out Jack hadn’t been real, but they had haunted his dreams. The coldness in them had burned its way into his heart.

Here, of all places. This was where he’d found him, the alien who had ripped his heart apart.

The Samalian’s eyes moved past Alex, to a man. They exchanged a few words, and he went back to reading.

Alex’s heart began beating again, and sound restarted. Men and woman talking amongst each other. Plates scraping on tables.

He had to go to him, remind him of what he’d promised. He needed to go and make sure he kept his word. He had to talk to him.

Instead, he headed to the bar.

Chapter 03

The new human was a mercenary, possibly a bounty hunter, but not someone to be worried about. If the portmaster and self-appointed guardian of the town hadn’t liked him, he would have sent him away. If the man had managed to avoid him, he would have contacted the tavern owner who, in return, would have warned everyone here of the possibility of danger.

The human knew Tristan—he’d seen the recognition in the human’s eyes—and there had been a moment when the human had tensed, possibly to come to him. Instead, once Tristan’s gaze drifted past him to address the approaching wheat farmer, the bounty hunter had collected himself. Tristan asked about the repairs he’d done on the farmer’s combine and didn’t pay attention to the answer, simply smiling and nodding.

The human sat at the bar and, after exchanging a few words with the tavern owner, was handed a glass with a purple liquid in it. The human downed it, not even wincing at the atrocious sweetness of it.

The bounty hunter possibly thought he was discreet, glancing at Tristan in the mirror as he sipped a second glass. In return, he had no awareness of how Tristan was observing him over his datapad.

He was experienced, that was clear. The gray and crimson jacket and pants were armored, but nothing obvious. No one else noticed how the human was studying him, so he wasn’t horrible at it. The knife at his belt was only one of many. Tristan saw three places where others were concealed.

Motion out the corner of his eye meant he needed to go back to playing his role. The tavern keeper’s wife was approaching, a tray held against her stomach.

How was the food, Tech?

He smiled at her. Tech was a friendly sort, if somewhat of a loner. It was amazing, as usual. I wouldn’t come back every day it if wasn’t.

I’m glad to hear that. Do you want another plate?

No, thank you, I’m not hungry anymore.

Are you sure? You’ve only had one. Her tone became huskier. You’re so tall and muscular, you must need more than just what you had. She was even clumsier than the bounty hunter as she looked down his body. Her skin did nothing to hide the blush, and he could tell where her mind was going.

He patted her hand, and her breath caught. "It’s alright, I don’t like to overeat. It makes me drowsy, and then I have