Sixshooter

By Lyndi Alexander

Valeni Pascual wants to be free to make a living hauling cargo with her spaceship and to understand the shapeshifting alien who presents sometimes as the steamy male Nik and other times as the blonde bombshell Nikki. As a rebel insurgence builds against the oppressive government known as the Agency, Valeni and Nik/Nikki encounter a sexy Terran cowboy named Garrett Rawls. Since being pulled into this region of space by another mysterious wormhole, Garrett has looked for a way to return to Earth. After meeting Valeni and Nikki, he might have found something worth staying for. However, dark forces may have a much bigger picture in mind for all of them. Valeni, Nik/Nikki, and Garrett are pulled into a life and death fight that lays bare all of their secrets and their desires. Will they lose everything as the battle against the Agency rages around them or can love pull them through? [A Horizon Crossover series science fiction romance available in print and ebook from Dragonfly Publishing, Inc.]

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dragonfly Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9781941278949

Lyndi Alexander

Lyndi Alexander always dreamed of faraway worlds and interesting alien contacts. She lives as a post-modern hippie in Asheville, North Carolina, a single mother of her last child of seven, a daughter on the autism spectrum, finding that every day feels a lot like first contact with a new species.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The ones that seem so easy go sour the quickest. Every damn time.

Valeni Pascual’s throat tightened. Hot sweat ran down between her shoulders, and her finger itched for her trigger. Too bad her gun was behind her on the wide leather seat of her sandrunner, gleaming beautifully in the late afternoon sun. The four men standing in front of her already had theirs in hand.

The pack leader, a thick-necked lubber called Fat Jonny, had the nerve to laugh. C’mon, Val, don’t make this hard on yourself. And when I say hard, I mean the application of solid lead to your silky, kaff-colored skin. His minions snickered.

Eight crates of cargo sat in a pile a dozen meters to the right, near her sleek ship, the Tiburon. It stood silhouetted against the rocky Marriel landscape, a swath of brown and tan sands.

If she connected with the buyer due any minute, the profit would cover six months of expenses and her late Agency dues. The deal had been a wild, desperate risk that nearly cost her landing gear in a hasty and ill-advised takeoff from the far side of the desert. No way she could afford to surrender the cargo. She had to stand fast.

Wishing her radio was handy, not tucked in her jacket pocket next to her sandrunner on the ground, she smirked, hoping attitude alone might shield her. Still expecting everyone else to do your work for you, Jon? Don’t you have even a shred of pride inside those layers of pork?

He cocked his gun, leveled it at her. Last chance.

Damn again. She’d intentionally chosen this spot way out at the edge of the tarmac for its privacy. The down side? It also left her out of public view of anyone who could offer her help. She was out of options. Fi—

A voice behind the men interrupted her.

What a bunch of fine-looking gentlemen! Are any of ’em spoken for, or can I have my pick?

The men turned around. A petite blonde woman wearing a thin white scarf tied around her breasts and a scandalously short skirt greeted them with a broad smile and a charged laser rifle.

Val nearly fainted with relief. How had Nikki known? She’d been in the bowels of the ship repairing one of her many gadgets. Now, she was the cavalry.

The attractive woman eyed the men. I didn’t know we were expecting company.

We weren’t.

While Fat Jonny ogled Nikki, Valeni lunged for her gun and then leveled it at his double chins. Jon and his men were just leaving. Weren’t you?

Triumph faded from the opportunistic bandit’s cocky expression. It might be safe to gang up on an unarmed woman. It was quite another to face one in front and one behind, both ready to shoot.

Losing their battle with divided attention, the minions backed off and holstered their weapons. The blonde stepped between them and the cargo. As a final incentive, she fired up the laser generator on her gun. Get on out of here, like good little boys.

Grumbling, they skulked away, headed for the central hangars in the distance, Fat Jonny waddling in the center of the group, the others bitterly gesturing in complaint, looking back over their shoulders once in a while.

Probably checking out Nikki’s legs. They’re worth a second glance, that’s for sure.

They weren’t in the clear just yet, so Val held her sigh of reprieve. Their cargo still sat exposed on the tarmac awaiting their buyer. Nikki’s jaw firmed up into a stubborn pout.

You want to explain how you got caught with your figurative pants down?

Valeni tensed, guilt gathering her stomach into a knot. We haven’t been here but fifteen minutes. I went ahead and offloaded the stack ’cause I didn’t want to bother you. Besides, Jowalt should be here any time.

Nikki’s green eyes blazed. And what would we be eating for the next several months if Fat Jonny had walked off with our cache, hmm?

Val bit her lip. She shrugged. The ship was all she had. At 23, most other pilots were still slaves to some corporate entity, working to make their bosses rich. But she’d saved her credits since she was a young teen shoveling rock on construction sites, and paid for the Tiburon outright. She couldn’t lose it now.

Her partner pointed toward the horizon. Fortunately, we’re good. There’s the pickup.

Val leaned forward into the dry wind, spying the floating hovercraft Jowalt had sent. Now, she sighed that sigh. Wonderful.

The boxy metal craft settled onto the worn black tarmac with a thump. Nikki kept her weapon at the ready, scanning in a complete circle around both ships. Val took her pager from her belt and entered the agreed-upon code. The hatch of the hovercraft slid open. Jowalt Edward peered out, thin black hair dangling over his gray eyes. His shabby clothing, covered in black engine grease, wilted in the heat.

This best be worth coming all the way from Roandock, he said through gritted teeth.

It surely is. Genuine Alcarsic engine parts and original design plans. Valeni glanced at Nikki, reassured she stood on guard. Satisfied, she opened the first crate.

Jowalt jumped down and loped over to peer inside. The widening of his eyes and subsequent smile told Val all she wanted to know. She just needed to wrap up before Fat Jonny drank enough to re-fuel his nerve.

So where’s the cash?

Jowalt reached into the back pocket of his coveralls and yanked out a small electronic device. Credits ready to transfer. He showed her the display. The agreed amount blinked there in gorgeous green numbers.

Always a pleasure. She held out her own unit and touched them together, watching closely as the crystalline numbers dissolved off his screen and reappeared on hers.

Jowalt hit a button on his device, and two scruffy men bailed out of the hatch to load the cargo, each box only carried to the hovercraft after Jowalt had thoroughly inspected the contents. Can’t be too careful, he muttered, without a speck of apology.

Val’s heart beat like an undisciplined tambourine while she awaited the conclusion of the transaction. She stared up into the sky. Spotty clouds slowly evaporated. They would soon be on their way back to the stars, and she had the money in her account. They were saved.

After what seemed an interminable time, Jowalt took the last crate into his ship, leaving them with a small salute before the craft left the ground. Val and Nikki took one last visual sweep of the area, but saw nothing threatening. Time to fly.

They retreated to the Tiburon. Nikki went below, and Val jumped into the pilot’s chair, short-cutting her usual takeoff sequence to make a quick escape. She didn’t breathe comfortably until they were decans away, heading into the upper atmosphere.

We’re clear, she broadcast over the ship’s intercom.

Val should have felt better, but she couldn’t let go of her panic. Idiot, she murmured, reviewing the deposit to her accounts. "You shouldn’t have waited alone. Always some bastard ready to sneak up and filch what you have, you know that. You know that. You’re smarter than that."

She leaned back on the well-worn headrest and closed her eyes. Nik would have thoroughly kicked my ass if we’d lost this one. Still hasn’t forgiven me for the last one.

Footsteps sounded behind her. A pleasant baritone caressed her ears. Of course, you are forgiven. We can never stay mad at you. Strong male hands massaged her shoulders. Nicholas always knew how to touch her in the way that soothed when she was trying to pull herself out of her own woes. And thanks to us, Fat Jonny’s eating noodles tonight, not steak.

She opened her eyes, looking up at Nicholas’ handsome face, his deep-set hazel eyes, the slightly-crooked smile that melted her insides. If you hadn’t guessed we’d be ambushed—

How did we know? Love, it’s Fat Jonny. He and that bartender Oke Runyon are soul brothers. Can’t be trusted farther than you can throw ’em. He leaned down to give her a gentle kiss, pulling the ribbon from her auburn hair so that it flowed loose. And, my dear, neither of us can throw Fat Jonny more than a meter.

She laughed softly. Nikki can’t. But maybe you could.

He straightened and held out his hand. Maybe. But Nikki’s more eye-catching. At least to that crowd. He pulled her to her feet and into his arms.

In this form, Nik stood six inches taller than Valeni, the healthy example of a well-built, muscular human male. When he was Nikki, the gender-adaptable alien could have been a photographer’s model for any sort of female lingerie with exquisite curves, a sweet smile, and a sunny disposition.

Val had never seen Nik in their native form, or in any other human appearance. Just these two. And she loved them both, in very different ways.

Set the ship on autopilot and come below, Nicholas whispered. There is something special for dinner. Considering we’re flush now.

Val didn’t need a second invitation. She secured their trajectory, and set it to run on its own. Fifteen horas until landfall at Hogran.

A whole five-day off, all to ourselves. Nicholas winked and led her down the narrow passageway to the lower deck. The thin wooden table wore a lace cloth, lit by a tarnished bronze lantern, and was set for two. A bottle of Lallecote wine awaited with stemmed glasses ready to be filled.

The Tiburon could have supported six people more or less comfortably, with crew quarters on both upper and lower decks. The galley, however, was a space-saver model with light wood veneered cabinetry floor to ceiling on both sides of the narrow room. This required Nicholas and Valeni to squeeze past each other several times. Finding this more of a gift than a hardship, Valeni took her time with each pass, feeling every inch of Nicholas’ strong muscles, as they rubbed against her. He chuckled when at last they sat side by side on the thick padded bench seat.

We think you’re proud of yourself, he said. Despite that little slip-up with Jonny.

He lifted the imitation silver covers over their plates, revealing some sort of bird meat wrapped in cheese with an aromatic red sauce, accompanied by mixed greens. We found these in town before we came out to the empty lands. The price of the fresh greens was outrageous. But a woman was selling them out of her back yard. It didn’t look like anyone lived there to take care of her. So we took it as a worthy charity donation. Especially in light of the fact we were about to score big.

Pride rushed through Val, and she smiled. Remember when you said you’d never be able to learn human compassion? I told you you were wrong.

He blushed. It was Nikki. She’s got a soft heart.

She took a bite of her food and nearly purred with pleasure. Nicholas was one hell of a cook, able to transform all sorts of odds and ends that landed in the galley cupboards. This was certainly tastier than protein bars and paste. No matter how you dressed those up, they tasted like someone’s worn undershirts. She finished quickly, regretful there weren’t second portions.

One of these days, we’ll be sure to have enough to eat. All the time. Delicious, baby.

Glad you’re pleased.

He tasted his food much more slowly, savoring the bites on his tongue. Each new food was an explosion of sensations for him, or so he’d told her. She’d asked him once whether she could buy anything that would approximate his native diet, a little taste of back home. He’d turned away and shook his head silently. She hadn’t asked again.

She studied him while he finished, admiring his profile in the flickering of the lantern light. How did you know?

Her question caught him mid-bite, and his tongue flicked out to catch a drip of sauce. How did we know what?

That I needed you tonight. Nicholas, not Nikki.

He smiled and sipped his wine. We guessed, actually. We weren’t sure. Not until we came up to the deck. We expected you’d be beating yourself up about what happened. So you needed comfort, not sisterly chatter.

The blood rushed to her cheeks in a hot blush. I wasn’t wrong, though.

He pushed the plates aside and slid his arm around her, pulling her close. No, you were right. It was stupid.

Hearing him say it so boldly made her bristle. She stiffened and went to pull away from him, but he was already tickling her, breaking her resolve, showing he was only teasing.

You made me say it, he said, his fingers lightly poking at her ribs, digging, swirling, stealing her breath away in fits of giggles.

Okay! she gasped, trying to scoot out of his reach. I give! I give! Help! He persisted, and she finally went limp, surrendering.

With a triumphant laugh, he pulled her to him and found her lips, kissing her deeply. Oh, there’s no help for you, dearest. Not tonight. We intend to make sure you are thoroughly rested before we touch down. First, a hot oil massage and then whatever else you need to relax.

Her thoughts washed away by budding emotion. Whatever? she whispered.

He looked into her eyes, his own warm and encouraging. Whatever. Come on. He half-tugged, half-lifted her out of the seat.

But the accounts, and the dish—

Clean-up later. First, we’ll tend to you.

She knew better, from their time together, nearly two revs now, than to argue with him. He pulled her along the corridor to her cabin. The lights came on, harsh and bright, when they entered, exposing the colorful woven tapestries that hung on the walls and the real bed she had. No hard metal berth for her. He turned the illumens down to a sweet glow and pulled back the thick, satiny coverlet woven in shades of brown.

She’d begun to unbutton her lacy blouse, but he stopped her. Let me, he said.

She dropped her hands to her side and allowed him to undress her, the touch of his fingertips like feathers against her skin. When she was bare, top to bottom, he lifted her gently onto the bed’s smooth white sheets and took off his own clothes. He heated the oil over a candle flame, and then curled up next to her. The warmth and fragrance of the herb-laced oil and his strong fingers released the tension and worry of a hard day living on the Rim.

Freed from her fears, she turned to him, letting his hands and lips distract her. Her thoughts filled with the echo of his emotion, driving her libido higher and higher. Warm skin slid against warm skin, and they pleasured each other late into the night.

* * *

The next morning she woke alone.

Before she opened her eyes, she listened to the thrum of her ship’s engines. The usual vibration came up through the bedframe, dulled by the double-thick mattress. No untoward rumbles or rattles. We must still be on track for Hogran.

Hogran wasn’t ‘home’. The ship was. But every so often she had to set the ship down and feel real ground beneath her feet. A friend had offered her a house-sitting gig in a small settlement on one of the two moons of Marriel, and Valeni had jumped at the chance. Fortunately, it wouldn’t cost them more than their groceries.

Which is good, because that’s just about all we can spare.

She sat up and leaned over the far edge of the bed, grabbing a peach-colored dressing gown she’d picked up in a bazaar on Terza during their travels. The lace insets were hand woven and heavy. It made her feel like a queen.

She wrapped herself in it and tied the narrow waistband just before Nikki breezed through the cabin’s open door, a tray with some fruit and two cups of kaff in her hands.

About time you woke up, Nikki said with a tart smile.

Val glanced at her timepiece. She’d meant to be up much sooner. We’re landing in—

Two horas.

Nikki set down the tray and plopped into a pillowed chair. The whole room was soft and feminine, with hanging gold and peach tapestries decorated with heavy tassels, and a thick rose-brown comforter on the double bed. She snagged a cup and a havafruit. Her yellow jumpsuit fit every one of her curves.

What? We were supposed to arrive at ten.

We adjusted the speed parameters. You have time to deal with every one of the thirty-five messages you’ve been ignoring since we left.

Valeni groaned. "That’s why I was ignoring them. I don’t want to. She pouted, and then glared at the comm screen. Thirty-five?"

Nikki just nodded and smirked.

Ugh. Not reading them until I get my face washed anyway. Valeni swung herself out of her comfortable bed and headed for the refresher, where she ran through her whole morning routine, justifying the self-indulgent delay since Nikki had slowed them down.

A lump came to her throat as her neglect gnawed at her. She’d monitored the messages as they’d arrived. Some she definitely didn’t want to handle.

Doesn’t make them go away, though, now does it?

When she couldn’t look herself in the eye in the small mirror any more, she returned to her cabin, sat cross-legged on the bed and fortified herself with food and drink and activated her portascreen. Nikki pulled the chair closer so she could see without being seen.

Opening the communication panel, she was presented with a long list of blinking teaselines. Those purporting to sell a product that would change your life were relegated immediately to the wastebin. So, sadly, were the ones flogging clothing, accessories and decorating items. We don’t have money for all that, anyway.

But those beaded shoes were cute.

Valeni nodded and sipped her hot beverage. They were. However, we need to eat this season.

The queue included six messages from the Agency, the organization that regulated space commerce in the Sisrian system, which was made up of five planets, Kizra, Marriel, Terza, Perpetra, and Lennor. The first five in the queue from the regulatory group might have been polite, but the sixth was a video message marked Imperative. Whatever it said would define the immediate future of the Tiburon and her crew.

The recorded directive came from some nameless, uniformed lackey who spoke in an irritated monotone. Your license dues have not been paid. You have received multiple warnings of the consequences of failure to honor your contract with the Agency, and you have ignored them. A penalty of one thousand credits has been assessed. If not paid in full by the new moon, your ship will be forfeit and confiscated to pay what you owe. Govern yourself accordingly.

The screen blacked out. Valeni’s hand trembled so violently she spilled the kaff on the bed. If that smarmy face had still been there, she might have chucked the cup at it. Surely their license fees weren’t that long overdue. She’d paid them. Some of them. Hadn’t she? It had been so long since they’d had two solid mercenary jobs in a row.

But that penalty was ridiculous. They’d earned enough from Jowalt to pay the base amount due, and she’d planned to send that last night. Before she’d gotten distracted. But now what would they do?

A thousand credits? she whispered. Where in Sprechan’s name will we get an extra thousand credits?

Nikki hadn’t moved, eyes over bright with tears. Their voice trembled and faded to a whisper. How far behind are you?

That’s not the—

"The point is, we’ll lose the ship. No ship, no income. No income, no home. No home…." The blonde trailed off and bit her lip.

Valeni glanced up, knowing from their association that even the hint of homelessness set Nikki off. Whatever happened to them before they came to me must have been traumatic. They wouldn’t talk about it. But there were nightmares.

So different from my life. I wouldn’t cry one tear, if I never saw my home or my parents again. Ever.

She hurried around the bed, kneeling next to the chair to embrace Nikki. We’re not going to lose the ship. We’re not. I’ll find a way. Probably another job in these messages, something coming right our way, honey. Promise. She hugged Nikki even tighter. I promise.

Nikki sniffed and hugged her back. Let’s see, she said.

Sure. Val clambered onto the bed again and pulled up one message after another, looking for something that might generate some money. An unfamiliar face popped up, and she activated that one. A pale-skinned woman with dark hair and eyes, wearing a navy blue uniform that Valeni had never seen before, spoke urgently to her viewers.

"This is Liang-Chao Chen of the ship Doubtful, under the command of Temms Rogers. We are reaching out to captains of vessels in the Sisrian system in the area of Marriel, Terza, and Perpetra in regard to the intolerable tyranny of the Agency. Captain Rogers invites all interested parties to a private meeting to discuss the situation and whether we are able to negotiate better terms, or failing that, take the Agency down. Details and location will be provided by scrambled message to those who request them. We hope to see you there."

The picture froze as Valeni paused the transmission to consider it. See? It’s not just us.

Nikki studied the viewer thoughtfully. We should verify this ship and its captain before blindly jumping aboard. It could be an Agency setup.

Valeni played the message again. "Yeah, but they’d pick a better ship name than that. Who’d name their ship the Doubtful? That’s—dodgy."

It doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence, that’s true. But we should run it past Jowalt and some of the others anyway.

Yeah. She grasped for the little humor she could find and grinned. Guess if we overthrow the Agency, we won’t have to worry about those late fees, hmm?

Nikki nodded, hands lying idly in their lap for a few minutes, and then they got up to stow a stack of Valeni’s clean clothes from a chair into a proper cupboard. After hesitating, they moved to another chair and then continued to the next.

Feeling embarrassed she was such a slob, Valeni also recognized the behavior that always signaled Nik’s attack of nerves, and the guilt for causing it slowly ate at her. When she couldn’t stand it any longer, she jumped off the bed and embraced her companion.

Baby, I promise! I’ll take care of it. I know this is just you being anxious. We’ve got two jobs lined up that will pay well, that bounty skip from Amy Bee at the Orange sitch and a cargo haul to Terza. We’re fine.

The blonde didn’t resist, allowing themself to be comforted, sulking a little. You can’t keep tempting fate, Valeni. One of these days, your flagrant irresponsibility will get one of us killed.

Now that was a little harsh. I’m doing the best I can.

"And next time, you’ll tell us when we’re behind."

Stung, Val muttered under her breath. And next time I’ll tell you.

Glad we understand that. We are going updeck to make final course adjustments. Join me?

Val looked down at her fluffy lingerie. Perhaps I’d better get dressed.

Nikki waved a hand and winked. Doesn’t matter to us. We like you looking like a daphyn cake.

Val blushed. Yeah, but I’d rather be wearing something a little sturdier when we get to Hogran. Even if we’re only grounded for a few days, I know we’ll have dirty work to do.

Definitely. Nikki chuckled and headed up the angled ramp that led to the bridge.

Val changed into a work shirt and pants, much more practical, and sent a quick message to several captains and suppliers of her acquaintance, asking them all if they’d heard of this Captain Rogers. Anyone who wanted to gut the Agency was a hero in her book.

Maybe this captain is brave, maybe he’s just crazy. Either way, though, it seems we’re on the same side. And I need all the friends I can get.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 2

Nik

Three five-days had passed since Valeni had received Captain Rogers’ invitation, and reluctantly responded. At last they’d received a reply, with a date and time set for the rebels to meet.

When the time arrived, Nik retreated to their tiny, monastery-simple cabin to dress for the occasion. Stepping inside, they enjoyed a few moments of silence and meditation. Nothing hung on the walls. A bed with a blue blanket, a metal chair and table were the only furnishings. Built-in drawers and a small closet held the double wardrobe needed to clothe both Nikki and Nicholas, three-quarters of the space devoted to Nikki’s flashy, girly pieces.

What to wear?

So many considerations when meeting new humans for the first time.

In the past two solars, the time that had passed since they met Valeni, Nik had learned that first impressions often helped make or break potential business deals. Also, in a human society, males often made themselves the leaders.

Nik couldn’t really understand this. Their own species had a matriarchal culture, and females had always been highly valued. They had questioned Valeni about the situation, but all she would say was that women had been trying to renovate the human leadership system for years with limited success.

As far as Nik was concerned, Valeni Pascual could out-negotiate any of the men they’d met. Her words were as strong as her mind, and they had seen her manage most people without putting much effort into it. Her melted-chocolate eyes, warm-toned skin, and thick auburn hair were attention-getters. Her curves were generous, but not overly so, and Nik had noticed her willingness to use her looks to get what she wanted, if that was the most efficient method of work. They had assimilated that skill, using it in situations like the one they’d found themselves in on the tarmac the other day. Nikki’s blonde sylph-like figure had absolutely distracted Fat Jonny and his men. That was fun.

But which one would be best now?

They sorted through the short, neat stacks of clothing in their drawers, hoping that would give them a clue. It didn’t.

A knock at the door was followed by Val walking in without waiting for an answer. Aren’t you ready yet?

Still in the flight suit and persona of Nicholas, who had piloted the ship to the ground for the meeting, Nik shrugged. What’s better? A show of confidence and pizzazz, or blend into the background?

They took a moment to study Val’s non-descript olive green jacket and brown leather breeches. Colors of the land, isn’t that what you call them?

Valeni nodded. She smiled, and then bent down to polish a spot on her leather boots. Terra tones. I figured this is one get-together where making a splash is the exact opposite of wise.

Especially if the Agency has a spy there.

Right.

Nik tasted the air, sensing Val’s emotional state. She was anxious and uncertain, her pheromones a dusky yellow flavor. You did pay them, right?

Yes! I told you I did. Val crossed her arms, her face flushed. I didn’t have the extra for the penalty, but I took what we got from Jowalt and paid the basic amount we owed. I promised we’d get them the rest real soon.

Nik frowned. Yes, I’ll bet that went over well.

Val’s foot tapped, a staccato reminder of time passing. We’re going to be late.

Nicholas or Nikki? Who do you need?

Val relaxed and stepped forward to slip her arms around them. I need you both. You’re my main squeeze. Squeezes. Whatever.

Nik held her close, trying to sense an answer from Valeni’s body language. She seemed to want the physical comfort that Nicholas brought. But based on her past comments, wouldn’t Nicholas potentially upstage her with those at the meeting?

It was hard sometimes to suss out these things. Since Valeni discovered them, wounded and hiding outside the space station on Nula Teter, a far-flung and mostly abandoned place, Nik had been devoted to her. Valeni had coached them in their human appearance and development, healed them, and made sure they felt secure in the Tiburon, the only home Val had. In gratitude, Nik had tried to fulfill every need that Val had openly expressed.

And certainly many she didn’t.

Val pulled away with a deep sigh and stepped close to the closet.

I guess we don’t really know whether this is a trap. Sure, C.T. vouched for Rogers. So did Jowalt. Scuttlebutt turned up nothing bad, other than that Rogers is a rebel of sorts. She examined their clothing choices. I heard Dutton will attend, by the way.

Nik liked C.T. Dutton, captain of the Fuego, and also a mentor of Valeni’s. He had a beautiful and mysterious consort, Kyndra Vilsin, who was a gifted telepath. Maybe she’ll be with him. We always enjoy talking with her. She understands what it is to be…unique in a human culture.

You need a rebel if you want to take on the Agency. Most captains so far have not had the courage.

She nodded and lifted a tan long shirt and slacks from the small space, clothing that would most definitely not call anyone’s attention. I’m not sure what the species mix will be at the meet, or what defines Rogers’ weapons policy. She handed it to them. All in all, it won’t be bad to have a strong man by my side. Just in case.

Nik twitched with relief. Finally, an answer. "All right.