Spaced Out

Your Thoughts Betray You

Stretched out on the recility ward floor, Gen groaned and rubbed his stomach. An empty bowl rested at his side. Crusty brown residue from Lily's stew coated the inside of the vessel.

"Haven't had a real meal in ages," he said and belched.

The "skills" Vortrand bartered in exchange for the Atarsen were food based. Gen had led her to the camp's kitchen under Artemi's orders. There, she concocted a vat of stew by her usual method of taste-and-mix when she couldn't locate ingredients familiar to her. The mercs had refrigerated and non-refrigerated storage units, but the bulk of their foodstuff consisted of rations; bland synthetic protein and carbs formed into food-like shapes or mashed together into nutration bars. Sneering at the available materials, she'd improvised.

Stale flatbread went into the oven and popped out toasty. The butt of her L-Striker tenderized rubbery meat. Packets of spice mixture pilfered from bagged rations went to work in the roux. The mercs didn't seem to mind the end result. They gobbled it up with the captain and their leader in the mess hall. After snitching his helping and a packet of the salmon-roe-fruit she saw on Myskuul, Gen spirited her back to the recility ward. He reconnected her to the IV then tucked in.

"Can't any of the mercs cook?" With her un-IVed arm, Lily reached for the fruit packet on the floor.

Sugar blisters—she read the dense on the package—were delicious. Plucking a swollen bead from the package, she held it to her lips and squeezed the nectar from its skin. The sweet liquid had a bite like ginger ale. Sucking the blister dry, she searched for a place to put the husk when Gen motioned for it. She tossed it to him and he shoved it into his mouth.

"Most of the Verakian here are ex Command. Soldiers not chefs."

Gen rolled onto his side and carried on talking to her.

"Maybe three successions ago we ransomed a Titian noble, an ambassador from the Spear. Shard court, I think. Whole pod lived in the heart of Gaze Metropolis near Spectralline. That was a good job." He pushed another blister, husk and all, into his mouth. Swallowing, he said, "We were full up on cretch and supplies for a whole succession after that one ransom. Anyway, her highship had a Pashmi on retainer and her culinary talents were exceptional. Made certain she kept her mistress and captors well fed. Thought keeping us sated made things easier for her highship."

"Did it?"

One of Gen's shoulders went up and down. "We don't harm ransoms. This is a business. We don't abduct unless we're certain we'll collect. The food was a bonus."

"What about the ransoms that don't pay?"

Gen judged Lily for a moment, then said, "Depends. Some we've sold for labor or skills off-market. Some were more useful in pieces."

Lily flinched then scowled at him.

"You asked." Gen sat up. "And you knew the answer before you did." Pale fingers traced designs on the floor. "We don't do a lot of skin trade anymore. Artemi prefers information brokering and shipping. Less baggage. Less messy."

"Is that how you got that scar?" Lily asked. "Holding people up?"

Trailing a finger down the left side of his face, the medic laughed. "No, I got this at BreakAcademy. My third year. I got careless with defense in edge training. No one fights to kill at Break, but dealing permanent marks are points of pride."

"Why did you all quit Command?"

"Personal reasons and politics. How are you feeling?"

Lily rotated her skewered arm which dangled out of her barriersuit. The reju treatment made her drowsy at first. Sleepiness soon gave way to comfort and built to energetic alertness as whatever chemical mixture filled the IV bag enriched her system. She told him she felt great.

"Then why don't I teach you a little bakai?"

Rising, Gen picked a bit of blister husk from his fangs, cleaned his hands, and removed the needle from Lily's arm, dressing it with a bit of cotton, gauze, and tape. He helped her sheathe her arm in her barriersuit then led her to the crates stacked on their left. Sitting with legs splayed, he slapped the wide vee of space separating his calves. Once Lily situated herself there he taught her.

"Before I demonstrate the tertiary hold sequence, I have to teach you some basics. For the hold to be effective you'll have to master both the basics and the bakai points through consistent practice."

He teaches a lot better than Vortrand, Lily thought.

"Give me your dominant hand."

Lily placed her right hand into Gen's waiting palm. Hand position and finger configuration and touch pressure comprised the basics. Also intent. Gen said intent was important. Several peccards later, he opened his shirt, arranged her fingers properly, and placed her hand on his bare chest.

"Bakai is about precision, finding your opponent's weak and blind spots and exploiting them. It's an advanced supplementary technique used with any of the three basic styles. Push down here."

Lily pushed. "Am I doing this right?"

Gen squinted as she performed the hold pattern again. A pale tongue pushed against his fangs when she brushed his most sensitive spot. "Feels like it."

"Then how come you're still all..." At the final position Lily dug her thumb into the space between his pecs and twisted the digit like she ground out a cigarette. Wincing, Gen flattened her palm against his chest and covered her hand with both of his. The light thump of his heart pulsed against her fingers.

"Like I said, you'll need practice. If your manta has a recreation lounge there should be basic and advanced combat programs installed on its console. The Verakian simulation will help you get the timing and pressure right and consistent. There's a syncopation you have to pick up with the basics. We're kinda building a house with no foundation here."

While she thought about that, Lily smoothed her fingers under Gen's hands, tracing the outer ridge of his pectorals. The medic twitched and squeezed her hand, stilling it.

"Careful," he said. "Those tender spots are also erogenous zones. An ulari would know that." A mischievous smile curved his lips. "Unless you intended the reaction."

Before Lily retorted, Gen leaned in a brushed the tip of his nose along the bridge of hers. Gasping, she recoiled and a figure poised in the recility ward's entrance turned her head.

The door flap parted under Vortrand's outstretched arms. He glowered down at them. A vicious grin froze his features.

"Oh please," the captain hissed. "Don't mind me."