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A Renegade Reborn

Pt7 - The Job

By H. A. Kirsch

--

It took a bit of wrangling, but I got the group together. Marece was the hardest part; his answer to my request was, 'are you stupid? I can't do that'.

"Okay, so, I'm going to go and do it myself." I then hung up on him, and went about getting a hold of Strake and Varius. What did I want Varius for? Honestly, I didn't know. He seemed to be following Strake around, and he seemed to like me when we were on that station. Also, he was Hener in Exile, which sounded cool. Cool people get exiled. It's like banning a book. You want to read the ones you're not supposed to.

A little research proved that almost all of the time, it was basically a technicality, the way that people would leave the order. Excommunication meant exile - you couldn't rejoin or make use of any Hener stuff, you couldn't wear your gear, et cetera. It didn't seem to stop him from wearing it.

"So what'd you fuckin' do anyway?"

"I don't listen to rules," he shrugged. "Look at me. Am not allowed, but I wear the harness anyway. I am a horse, horses look good in it. Wild horses on Earth pulled things."

Strake's reaction to me: ("You have a ship?")

("No, but my friend does.")

("Prove it.") About half an hour later, Mike and I let him in. He walked around, stomped around, kicked things and tossed things about, then stormed into the cockpit and sat down. "You gotta be fucking kidding."

"No, I inherited it, my husband died and left it to me," Mike said, and only flinched slightly now that he'd been practicing telling people his sob story so much lately. "We used to do robot salvage."

"This is the fucking better model of my old ship." The tiger then turned, banged on the console, and flipped a row of switches on. Mike reached across in a blind panic; all of the lights came on, something clunked deep in the ship, and ["WARNING: MAINTENANCE RESTRAINT SYSTEM ACTIVE - REACTOR OVERRIDE LOCKOUT ACTIVE"] appeared on every screen, our optical implants, and audibly blared in common English and TIL out of the PA.

"Nrrrrrrr you can't start things up, we'll wreck something, it's all clamped down, this docking unit is inactive!" Mike squalled.

Strake laughed and smacked the switches back down. "What's the fucking catch? You can't tell me you're just gonna let me take your ship."

I crossed my arms. "You're taking us with it. And the horsey."

"Fuck you." Strake then spun around once in the command chair. "I get my own room. Alone. Alone. No one goes in it but me, unless I let them in. Anyone breaks that rule, and I let them go sleep with deep space."

I shrugged. "Fine."

--

Once we got the wheels turning and balls rolling, things happened faster than I thought. Mike didn't seem to have a problem with uprooting himself - the thought of getting the ship fully operational both seemed to stress him up to near panic, and also energized him to a degree that I found a bit concerning. And while he had all the hallmarks of an ADHD gadget geek, he also actually seemed to know what he was doing. He and Strake got in the kind of arguments that only come from two people who know the same 'how' and disagree on 'why', or don't even disagree at all. Varius didn't know anything about what we were doing, though he was helpful and did whatever was asked of him, and kept flicking his tail at me while he did it.

I had the most money out of all of us, and what else was I going to spend it on? The two biggest things were fuel for the ship, and also paying to get the docking system reactivated. It wasn't so much that we needed to pay for it; we needed to pay a person to do it since he wasn't supposed to. Even then, it took some grade-A wolf logic:

"Look. We have a ship stuck to a docking unit that's not activated. A ship, worth money. A ship, that could be doing interesting work. You have a docking unit that's got a ship stuck in it, that could be doing some good... docking work, but it can't."

Mike elbowed me; I was talking to a Tark who was much more like the police officer I'd encountered with Cara than the gregarious chef Grix. "Hey, uh, you sound kind of dumb," he whispered.

"What I mean is," I continued, "you have a problem. You've had one for a while. I am going to end that problem for you. You don't like violating these regulations, right?"

"Two hundred thousand credits," was the screaming-orange dragon guy's answer.

Mike made a gagging sound.

"Alright, done."

The fox clutched onto me as we left. "Are you insane, that's ridiculous, I paid like a tenth of that when I was getting him to cover shit up so I could leave the ship there and live in the old shipping frontage!"

"Yeah, but we're not paying to cover something up. We're paying to uncover it. You think that's gonna be cheaper? Plus, we're fine."

A day later, I was totaling up the expenses of our little excursion plan while Strake and Mike worked on some minor repairs to the ship systems - which actually meant Mike doing them and Strake threatening to kill him in a never-ending stream of possibilities. I think that Mike actually enjoyed that sort of thing; or at least didn't believe that Strake would do it. Varius, thankfully, wasn't lying around. He was more than happy to do whatever he was told, and actually had a bit of an eye for decorating. We weren't going to just go into space in a boring ship. We were going to go into space in a ship that looked like a bunch of horny gay bondage renegades lived in it.

"Huh, thirteen thousand," I said out loud.

"Thirteen thousand what?" Mike said, as he happened to walk by.

"Yes, thirteen thousand what," someone said, as they came in the back cargo bay door. It was Marece. He was dressed in a different but similar and no less flashy Hener leather-sex outfit than what I'd seen him in before. Varius immediately babbled in TIL at him, Marece responded, Varius looked extremely embarrassed, and Marece sniffed and walked further in. "It's inappropriate for him to wear that stuff."

"Too bad."

"What do you mean, too bad? Do you remember how we met?" The hare did his best supervillain sashay.

"Yeah. I was a dumb wolf who didn't know any better, and you educated me with your bunny brain stuff." He started to make a complaint and I talked over it. "He, on the other hand, knows better. He's doing it on purpose. That's cool with me, and if it's not cool with you, well, maybe you shouldn't have a job where you have to follow dumb wolves and exiled sex animals around all day."

"Uh, hi, what was thirteen thousand?" Mike cut in.

"Credits. That's what we have left. I mean, what I have left, and we're basically-"

The fox gritted his teeth. "Rrrrrhh that's not a lot of money, I mean, we're full up on fuel and water and oxygen generators and algae matrix and emergency scrubber packs and food stuff and we paid off the docking activation-"

"And the actual docking release fees, I paid those ahead, I didn't wanna have a fuss. I wanted to just blow outta here whenever I felt like it. And by me, I mean Strake, because I don't have my space driver's license." I looked over at Marece. In addition to his blue and black leather, he also had a rolling case with him. "What's that, your other outfits?"

He sniffed. "Regardless of what's cool with me, I do have a job and that job is to follow you around and see what happens and deal with any consequences before they turn into bigger consequences, and so I have to come along with you."

"Great, I have my prissy bodyguard for bureaucratic weenies, and I have my big meaty bodyguard for when people need to have their heads fuckin' smashed in, and I'm pretty sure Mike could hurt someone if he tried, even if it's just making some godawful fucking fox noise."

"I can tetanize someone and keep them conscious at the same time!" The fox piped up. "And I have a robot that almost works!"

Marece looked pained. "You better be glad I'm already somewhat in trouble, and that getting in trouble is like peeing after alcohol, in that once you start doing it a little you might as well keep going." He walked past me, and lifted up to talk into my ear. "I'll actually explain later."

I got the captain's cabin, even though Mike owned the ship, and Strake was going to 'operate' it. Strake got his own cabin, and weirdly picked the smallest one where it was scarcely wider than the bed frame. Mike moved his robot stuff into the cabin next to mine, and while he technically got it to himself, it was more like 'Tally' - the robot's apparent name - got the cabin and Mike slept in the corner.

That left Marece and Varius sharing a room. Despite the hare's bitching about Varius and his costuming tastes, the two actually didn't seem to have much conflict. For one, Varius really wasn't very good with English and Marece was the only one who spoke TIL. For two... I didn't really trust Marece, and I also didn't trust Varius, so putting two people who I didn't trust together meant their distrustableness was less likely to spread. Back on the Prak station, Varius had come after me to fool around. He'd done it because Cal told him to; he'd acted like he just wanted to play. He got exiled for 'not following the rules'. Marece could keep an eye on me and Varius at the same time.

Things really happened faster than I thought once 'the gang was all here'; Strake shut and locked the cargo door, went back to the cockpit, and hit the switches.

"It's interesting that this thing has switches and not, you know, a brain interface or something-"

["MAINTENANCE RESTRAINT RESCINDED - REACTOR INTERLOCK DISABLED - SYSTEM STARTUP. STAY CLEAR OF EXTERNAL VENTS."] Appeared and blared everywhere it could blare - it probably deafened people outside of the ship, except there weren't any, because we were in that singular utility dock thing.

"There's a Tark word for that," Strake said. "It's shut the fuck up for once. Okay everyone, get into the acceleration couch. We're gonna move."

There was only one acceleration couch, which was in the 'common area', and it was actually a convertible lounge sofa. One minute, you could sprawl about and look longingly at people who walked by (Varius). The next minute, you were dumped onto the floor, swearing in another language as the sofa lifted up and tilted and inverted to display the restraint seats (also Varius). Everyone but Strake clamored onto it and strapped in. Like the three other times I'd done this, restraint belts popped out to five-point me in, and then a shoulder restraint came up and over. "What happens if you don't fit in that?"

"You get belted in and wiggle," Mike said.

I could see why we could handle four or five people. There were two acceleration-capable seats in the cockpit, and four on the couch. You could fill the couch, but someone would have their elbow in someone else's face.

["DOCKING RELEASE IMMINENT - IMPULSE ACCELERATION FOLLOWS - BRACE"] the computer yelled, and I'd barely clicked in before the ship lurched with an awful clank and then dropped what felt like twenty feet in about half a second.

I was about to open my mouth again when a big rumble filled the space and my head smacked the couch.

"You know, this is probably a good time," Marece grunted, "For you all to tell me where we're going."

"Shouldn't you be more concerned? You're TARE," Mike said. "That's like special forces in the marines."

"I don't know what a marine is, isn't that water? And I'm special operations, not normal military stuff operations."

I didn't want to admit that I didn't know where Strake was going, because what captain Earth-Wolf would do that? "Hey Strake, what's our ETA?" I yelled.

"Look at the fucking chart yourselves," he yelled back, instead of using the comm PA, and a huge chart materialized in front of us. A hologram, not just augment 3D stuff. First, it looked like a starry cloud, and an arrow pointed to us as the cloud shrank. Then, five lines plotted between us and another point, with a time indicator between them. Then, an arrow appeared for the destination. 5 translations, a total of 3 days common time, fifty percent fuel reserves. The chart then zoomed in on the destination, a weird structure that looked sort of like a sea cucumber, or maybe one of those 'infinite weiner' squishy desk toys that inverts itself when you hold onto it.

Marece said something in TIL, and Varius concurred. "You're going to Corrin? What business could some loud, violent animal like you have there?"

Strake ignored him.

"Well?" Marece said, and looked my way, then groaned and smacked his head back against the seat. "I forgot I hate space travel."

"Too late for that. What're you looking at me for?"

"Well, aren't you in charge here? Or are you just being impulsive again?"

I was being impulsive, and it felt great. "Strake has his business."

"I'm delivering something personally. It's none of your business," the tiger yelled, this time over the comm PA, specifically so it would also yell into our brains through the implants.

"Hawk, do you know that Corrin Station is the ultimate Galactic Network station, which among other things means that it has the most wealthy non-private settlement outside of Selnar itself?"

"I don't know anything you just said, bun-bun."

Marece just sighed.

--

I did not think my plan through. That's okay, because my plan was, 'I don't want to live on the station', with a side of, 'I'll get people I know to come with me'. I was actually surprised that they did.

Marece wasn't leaving a life behind - he lived in a welfare apartment near mine not because he lived there, but because it was near me. He didn't have a desk job doing social services stuff; he was basically cyber-stalking me. This was an important situation I needed to address, however, as much as I didn't trust him, I also got the feeling he was holding back something positive as much as negative.

Mike seemed pretty excited to go on an adventure, especially since he could tinker with his robot.

Varius... I was going to have to get to the bottom of him, too.

Strake was maybe the most clear-cut. I went to talk to him once we were basically on autopilot between location point translations. "So, what are we actually doing?"

"I'm delivering something, in person, to the person who contracted me to obtain and deliver it. Now leave." He was in his room; I was in the doorway.

"Nah. What's the something? Who's the person? If this is some shady criminal shit, I don't wanna be making that mistake."

"You think you can un-make it or something? It's not shady criminal shit. It's none of your business."

I turned and gestured. "Is it all that Prak stuff you have in here? I thought you'd have gotten rid of that already."

"You think I'm gonna put all my eggs in one basket? They got my money when I 'died', I kept some of that, what'd you call it, sex-weed? As a hedge. In a storage unit."

"More of a cranberry bog than a hedge. Doesn't it grow in mud?" He was not amused when I said this. "Okay, so that's your hedge. What's your thing?"

Strake didn't seem to have belongings except his clothing - which he needed to clean somehow - and a rolling case like Marece had brought. He was lying on his bed and swung his leg over, and kicked the case down, then banged it with his heel underneath the bed frame into the storage area. "I'm not telling you, and if you go looking into that thing that I'm not telling you about, you know what's gonna happen."

"You're gonna throw me out the airlock."

"No."

"You're gonna shoot me."

"No."

"Then I don't know what's gonna happen."

"Good. Keep it that way." He then activated the door control, which loudly beeped at me until I backed up, and then the pocket door slammed shut and ripped one of my whiskers out.

So, to recap what I learned, Strake had something in a small box that he didn't want me to get into, and whatever it was had to be delivered to apparently the richest place in the galaxy. No risk or worry there.

I thought about going to see Marece, however, I instead actually went to see Varius because Marece was nowhere to be found. "Hare is in the bathroom."

"What, did he eat a bunch of those Hooly things or something?"

Varius snorted. "I don't think he likes the anal," he said. "We go to fancy station. I listen to Marece about outfit, then."

"So, why'd you come with me? You're not really just following Strake around, especially because I don't think he likes you. I don't think he likes anything. Are you lined up with him?" I gestured to the bathroom. No one had private bathrooms - there was one on the ship, with a sink, urinal, toilet, and shower (which could be used as a squat toilet by pushing a foot lever by the drain) all isolateable in one 'big' room.

Varius smiled. "I like wolf."

"That's a bunch of bullshit," I laughed.

"I like wolf," he repeated. "And nothing to do on Daleon. Bored of the tiger. He won't hire me."

I shrugged, then walked out of the room and back to the Captain's Cabin. I was just about to go in the door when I paused, and looked back behind me. Marece was apparently finishing up in the bathroom as I could hear the sink. Varius was still in their room. Mike wasn't to be seen though I could hear him muttering to himself while he played with his robot boyfriend. Strake's door was closed.

I returned to Varius. "Hey, can you come with me for a minute? I wanna talk about something."

He nodded and got up off the bed and followed me back to the captain's cabin. As soon as he was inside, I shut and locked the door. He stood up straight, ginger-perked his tail, and put his hands behind his back.

"I don't really wanna talk with you. I know you probably don't wanna talk with me, since you don't like speaking English." I backed him up against the door. "What's with this posture stuff?"

"I like wolf," he said, for the third time. "Alone with wolf now. So am ready."

I'd been wearing all of my leather stuff minus the mask, and instead of putting the mask on, I took the coat off and climbed back into bed. Then, I chuffed at his response. "I'm sure you have your reasons for being here. I bet they involve Marece. You're both Hener. Right now, I don't care, because I'm kind of lonely. The kind of lonely that a sex-worshipping horse can probably fix. I bet you think I want that, right? You brightened up right when I walked into your room. Do you really 'like wolf', or do you just 'feel like you should like wolf'?"

He looked pensive for only a moment, then sat down on the side of the bed. "I understand fine, I talk bad."

"Well, I am bad. So we have something in common." I reached over and grabbed his long-gloved wrist, and put his hand on my chest. "I had a little thing with... hah, with a girl... and she was doing this," I said, and brushed his fingers against the midline between my pecs, down to my navel, and back. "And I really liked it. Because I'm a wolf, and wolves are just wild fuckin' dogs, and dogs like that. So do it."

I showed him with his fingertips, and with the backs of his fingers. He picked it up easily - I'm pretty sure he knew what to do, he just let me show him. He brushed my fur more than he rubbed, and I groaned back into the feral moment of bliss.

"Wolf is dangerous," he said, after I was just about to fall asleep.

"Heh, yeah, a big, scary wolf."

"I want to make wolf feel good. I can't help to want it," he said, and then straddled onto my lap. He held me by the shoulder so he could lean down, and kept stroking me.

Hmm. "You don't have to talk about stuff to make me feel good. I mean, if I want you to tell me how much you like me, I'll ask for-"

He leaned closer, and nuzzled my face, horsey lips grasping at my whiskers, my muzzle lips. "Wolf can't understand, something is wrong with him," he whispered. "Is fine, I like this." As he 'kissed' me, he slowly ground against my cock through my pants.

"I think I know what you're saying, and I agree, something is wrong with me. However, you unbuttoning my leathers and sucking my cock is not wrong by any stretch of the imagination." I put a hand on his petting one and stopped it, then put the other hand on his head in front of his ears and pushed him down towards my groin. Then, I looked up at the ceiling. I could watch him move down, my groin blocked out by his head, his black-gloved hands stroking the front flap of my pants. "I'm glad I have my own fancy captain's quarters. I can stay in here. That way, I won't bother you and Marece, huh. That fox, he doesn't care to have sex with me, and I don't wanna fuck him, weirdly enough for him being a fox. Strake... eh. He actually seems violent."

He pulled the flap down and simply hung over my lap, fingers holding at my belt and pants waist. I leaned to the side; he was just looking at my cock, as I watched in the reflection. I slowly throbbed harder and harder, and then felt the urge to clench up and made it bob, the black length smacking down against my leather and then my bare fur.

"What's the matter?" I said, and grabbed the base, then tapped the underside of my cockhead up against his lips. He flexed them slightly, parted his mouth. I did it again; he subtly pressed harder down against me, but didn't move his head. Smack, slap, smack. "I get it," I said, and grabbed into his head mane, then pulled him down while I smacked again and then aimed to push into his mouth. He groaned and tightened his mouth up, cheeks caving in as he sucked and pulled back. There was a wet splop as my glans pulled free. "I really get it. I gotta do my own fuckin' work."

I could, as I grabbed onto his head with both hands and made him bob over my cock, feel a sense of warmth emanating from him. When I pushed and pulled and got close to the back of his throat, I felt just a little surge of it. _Is this what he feels? Is it just like a hundred times stronger? Is it like a blast furnace of wolf sex in his face or something? _

"I'm not gonna beat you up or anything after I get off. Your little punishment is gonna be going back to your room with a hard dick stuffed in that sex-horsey pouch thing you have on." I pulled out and held my cockhead at his lips, then tilted his head so I could look at him. He gave me a desperate, pleading look. "You're only gonna cum when I say so. Any time, as long as you're on this ship with me. I don't care what you think otherwise, and I don't care what anyone else says. You got it? And you tell me if anyone tries."

"Yes...H-"

"Don't ever call me 'Sir', and call me Mister Wolf."

"Yes, Mister Wolf."

"Good. Keep sucking," I said, "Do it yourself for a bit. See if you can swallow my dick again." I let go of his head, reached up behind mine, and wove my gloved fingers together. Then, I watched up in the mirror.

_You want me. You want me twice. You want me because you want sex with anyone you think is hot because you're one of those fucking Selnari and you're the Sex Worshipping kind and even if they kicked you out, you still want to live like that. You want me because you can't help but want me. And you want me a third time because you get off on being unable to stop wanting me. What a fucking disaster. At least you have a cocksucking mouth, horsey. _

"Yes, Mister Wolf," he said, and then tried to deep-throat me, and noisily gagged. He tried again, and again, and it wasn't so much 'trying' as 'gagging on it on purpose'.

"I fucking said that out loud, didn't I," I said. He didn't respond, because my cock was in his throat and he couldn't even make a sound around it that second. He pulled off and looked excitedly ill for a second, and then drooled all over my cock. Before I could make him do something about it, he fondled my shaft, brought it to his mouth, and kissed his spit back off before starting to bob again.

I let him suck me for... a while. Varius showed no signs of getting bored of it or losing arousal over it; and frankly, I could get sucked for a long time. It feels great; I just need a bit more to get off. I reached down and grasped at my own balls, holding the loose sac and tugging downwards. That changed 'I could get sucked all day' to 'I immediately tensed up, growled, snarled, and held him in place while I pumped my seed into his mouth'. Not his throat; his mouth.

"Good. Now swallow," I said, and he audibly gulped. I pulled out of his mouth, and just a little wolf spunk drooled down over his chin.

"Was good?"

"Yeah," I grunted. "I uh... hey. I know it's gonna probably make Marece wonder what happened to you, but stay here a while." I nudged him to roll off my lap. "It's been a long time since I had someone next to me while I fuckin' slept."

"Yes, Mister Wolf," he said, and then moved up next to me, reached across my chest, and leaned his head on my shoulder. He wrapped one of his booted legs around mine. "I would sleep anyway."

He started stroking my chest again, and while it was a little arousing, it was also-

--

A horrific pounding woke me up. It also woke Varius up, who clutched onto me, whinnied, and put a hand square on my face as he craned around. By the way, this wasn't right after he sucked me off. It was couple of days later, after I'd just made out with him before going to bed. He really wanted to be fucked, and I told him, no, not until after we finish The Job, whatever the fuck it was. He seemed visibly pained by it, and by pained, I mean erect.

Thud, thud, thud. Oh, someone was hitting the fucking door. "Who is it?" I growled.

"Who the fuck do you think it is," someone else growled.

I fumbled around, couldn't find the button. "Hey, ship computer thing, open the fucking door to my room!"

Fwip, the door slid open. "Son of a bitch. Why'd you even put him in that bunny-boy's room if he's gonna just crawl all over you," Strake chuffed. "Anyway, we're in system now. You better brief us on what we're gonna do, Captain Wolf."

I kind of liked how that sounded. I didn't like how I was underdressed; I was nude. It turns out Varius likes bare hands and feet, in addition to gloved hands and booted feet. Okay, sure. It's space, [five hundred years] in the future. I already fucked a girl.

I put my boots and pants back on, and blundered out into the common area. Mike and Marece were already out there. Marece immediately frowned, upon sniffing at me.

I didn't care; I could see this Corrin Station place right out the window. It looked just like the simulation. "Huh. It really does look like a... sea... thingy." _You dumb animal. Fuck, I'm even thinking in Marece insults. _

"Well? Are you going to tell us what to do?" Marece crossed his arms. He was wearing his top harness and a pair of rather silky pants, and sandals. Something was a bit fishy about him, and I couldn't place it.

"Fuck no, it's his job," I pointed to Strake. "And he didn't tell me what we're gonna do."

"We're gonna go here," up popped a station map, where Strake pointed generically to one part of the station, "And I'm gonna deliver the thing I have in my room, and I'm gonna get money for it. And if you all want money-"

"Excuse me, we're going to the richest part of the richest station in the entire Galactic Network?" Marece went crazy-eyed.

"You aren't going, me and him are going. He's my ship captain. I put him on the register. Sorry, foxy, it's easier this way."

Mike shrugged.

Him, by the way, was me. "Aww, how sweet."

"No, we are going, because I'm not letting him out of my sight anywhere off this ship," Marece said. "And if you don't like that, you can find out what happens to people who directly interfere with TARE business. I don't care if you're some strange un-dying thing."

"Yeah, I saw what happens, you wanna try to grow a brain back through a hole in your skull?" I added, also crossing my arms. Marece continued to look unhappy.

The hare squared me by grabbing my biceps. "You, are going to have to dress nicer. And clean yourself up. You smell like wolf cock and horse sweat, and then there's your leathers."

"I don't have anything else to wear."

He rolled his eyes.

"I don't have anything else to wear! I just have this outfit and some work stuff I left back on Daleon! By the way, apparently, I've been fired, because I quit without announcing it. Oops," I shrugged, referring to a message I'd received earlier. "I can just get some clothes when we get onto the station. I got some money left. And we're gonna get paid-"

"I'm gonna get paid," Strake growled. "You wanna get money, you do something for yourself. Maybe someone'll pay you to talk," Strake chuffed, and went into the cockpit. "Watch your fuckin' step, I'm on slow braking on our approach." He did something, and yes, definitely braking.

I felt like I was standing up on a subway train. I went towards the bathroom and before I could get into the shower, Varius was in there, quickly stripping out of his leathers. "Hey, I can shower myself."

"I make wolf cleaner," he said, and set his gear out of the way, then shut the shower door. While the outer door was open, so everyone could see. He was very serious, too; while it was erotic because we were mashed together and he had to touch me with most of the front of his body, he actually scrubbed. The water didn't go straight down - it splashed against one side of the shower due to the deceleration.

"I thought you liked the smell," I huffed, and lifted my arms while he sprayed, frothed, and sprayed under my arms. Despite the fur, us hybrids still had human scent sweat glands.

"Corrin Alrex Sector is too nice, you could be thrown out," he said. Once he had scrubbed me up down and sideways, he had me do the same to him. This was very serious showering.

I walked out of the shower and basically into Strake's chest. "Thanks for hogging it, asshole. You know that horse is a prostitute, right?" He then stepped right in after me, and physically moved Varius out of the way.

"Is that true?" I turned to the stallion.

Varius shrugged. "Sometimes, is money," he said, and then headed back to his room.

We all busied around the ship getting ourselves ready. Mike and Varius were going to mill around the shipping area - which we didn't need to go to, we just couldn't afford to dock anywhere else whereas shipping had low and no-cost. I got dressed, and it was pretty obvious Marece was not exaggerating: my leathers smelled.

"You can get them cleaned. In fact, I know just where we can get some clothes fast, easy, and nice. Cheap? Well, you can afford it with what you said you have," the hare said, and emerged in... basically a uniform, without the insignia. Several shades of orange and black made for an almost sun-beam motif on his torso via a spandex-type material, gleaming gleaming riding boots covered his legs, and fingerless opera-style gloves covered his arms. His legs were clad in cream fitted pants, and I realized something right away: when he'd been wearing his Hener Shadows-ish outfit when we went to Mezz-5, he very obviously had a big bulge. Right now, he very obviously had no bulge, at all.

"Uhhh," I stood dumbly in the middle of the 'lounge' area, ogling Marece.

"Hare is kine," Varius said, and it was pronounced kee-nay, except when I repeated it, the stallion frowned. "I don't know CE word."

"Intersex," Marece said, on his way into his room and then back out with a duty belt/sam browne type of rig which held a gun. "Yes, I get to carry a gun. It's actually important. I think I know how to sell this. Strake is... the deliveryman. You are his hired gun. And I'm hired to make sure you only gun what you're supposed to."

Strake's reaction was to chuff and hit both of us with his tail as he walked by. It almost tripped Marece off his feet as we were still slowing down. I looked towards the window and couldn't see the station because I could only see the station.

"Oh that is big. What's... are those ships?" I could see small things moving past.

"Those are really big fuckin' freighters. Don't worry, I'll get nicer stuff once we get there. This isn't Earth, they can make a tailored suit in half an hour."

--

Varius is a prostitute. Marece has a vagina - then what was that bulge? - and the only one not kind of freaking out was Mike. He either didn't understand what kind of place we were going to, or he knew and wasn't bothered. Even the horse seemed a little tense. I assumed it was because people could somehow know he was exiled Hener and yet he was still wearing their gear.

We docked into the station after a quite terrifying final braking deceleration. I swore we were going to crash into it, but after half an hour on the couch and a bowel-shaking jolt, the ship PA chimed and the cargo door hissed and unlocked.

I expected us to walk out into something like Daleon's docking bays, and was completely taken aback. After a connecting 'spaceway', we walked out into an area something like a first-class airport lounge back home. "Wait a minute, I thought we're in the shipping sector or whatever," I said, ogling the architecture. It was nice, if thoroughly streamlined.

"We're a tiny little ship, so even if we have cargo, it's done through the personnel dock," Strake said. "Ungh. This place smells like a perfume shop."

"You could use some of it," Marece said quietly, to a fierce growl.

"Yeah but it's, this is really fancy," I said, gesturing to a planter that was full of entirely alien and profusely colorful flowers and leaves. The base of it had a gem-like material glinting along the edges and corners.

"This is actually pretty normal for a ship terminal cross-network. You've just never been to one," Marece said. "Alright. Mike, Varius, you can go do whatever you want or need to do. We three are going to catch a private transport."

"Don't worry! I'll make sure he gets his feed-bag," Mike patted Varius on the shoulder. Varius's reaction was confusion, then a distant squint, then a moment of shock as he must have been looking up the reference in his augment display.

Both of them were dressed quite rakishly compared to everyone else - then again, so was I, and Marece didn't match and actually looked quite sci-fi-tv versus the people around us. Strake, on the other hand, looked out of his element entirely as a biker tier, and as grumpy as he always seemed to act.

We approached something like the tram terminals back on Daleon, except instead of a long waiting area, there were individual platforms. Within seconds, a small pod showed up. No track, no road, no cables. We even fit into it, although Strake had to sit in the center, and even then he had to duck. His only response to anything either Marece or myself said was to growl.

"Do you think we can afford something larger? We aren't exactly full of money right now," Marece said.

"Aren't you special whatever? TARE?" I looked over.

"My business is following you around, not hiring gilded transports. What exactly have you been up to?" He wrinkled his face as his snort muzzle and whiskers wiggled for a sniff at me. "You smell like you rolled around on the floor in a wet club in the Shadows. The tiger just smells like he looks, which is deadly and a little like blood," Marece tapped Strake and immediately had his hand bent back far enough that he squeaked.

"You're the one who showed me that place. What'd you expect me to do, just stand around outside sniffing the flowers? And... uhh... I could have sworn you had a dick bulge."

Marece rolled his eyes. "It's called packing. I like to peg other men. Then, if they're very nice to me, they can eat me out. You _do _ know what pegging is?"

Strake, for the first time, made a legitimate sputter of humor.

"I'm gay, not stupid," I grunted. Then I realized that Marece wasn't just bothering us with his snarky attitude; he was distracting us, or perhaps me, from looking out the window. I looked out, and we were in an enormous space and at an angle that seemed entirely wrong. Nothing felt weird in the pod; it just looked like we were sideways, and moving extremely fast. "Ohhhh. That's not good."

"Just close your eyes," Marece sighed. "The artificial gravity isn't applied universally inside the station, just wherever there are people."

Thankfully, we had a short trip thanks to the aforementioned extremely fast, and when we came to a stop we very normally walked out on a very normal twin to the platform we got on at. We were in a nicer part of the station. Much nicer. Bigger, more spacious, glinting with metals and more of those gem-like edge highlights, and with elaborate sculptures and landscaping detail. Much of it wasn't even affixed to the ground, and floated in space, not even visibly tethered for power to whatever kept it floating.

We were walking on something akin to marble, with a glorious sweeping design that also seemed to indicate where people should walk. It was hard and made a beautiful boot-heel clack, yet there was little echo nor roar from people walking and talking. There was also music, from several live performers.

"The shop is right here," Marece said, and ushered us into what seemed like a very small storefront. Nice, but small. Inside, there was actual wood furniture, a thick and short red carpet with fancy patterning that looked oriental and yet unfamiliar, and some sort of gazelle-type hybrid in a variety of business suit as the only other occupant. "Perfect, we're the only clients right now, too. There was a cancellation," Marece whispered.

"Greetings, hai," the gazelle said, and bowed his head, then uttered something in TIL that I could at least recognize as some sort of greeting. "You are in need of something more upscale to wear, is that correct?"

"Whatever," Strake said, and started looking around. It wasn't that there weren't any clothes on display - it's that everything was a display, which came to life with holographic showcases the moment the tiger got close enough.

"These two are," Marece said. "I'm their consort. We are in a little bit of a hurry, so you know."

The gazelle nodded. "There will be no problems with time. Now, come with me." He gestured for us to follow, and Strake and I both shrugged as we walked back with him.

We stepped into a back room, and I looked around. It looked a lot like a tailor's dressing area, where someone might get measured or a suit pinned for fit. When I looked back, Strake was gone. "What the hell?" So was the gazelle, except he then walked out from a different direction.

"Ahh, of course, a bit of a trick. Another sales associate is with your friend. May I ask your name, and your desires?"

"Hawk, just Hawk, like the bird..." This got a look from him, "Uhh, and, well, I need something nicer to wear. We have a very important appointment. I'd like to look... professionally dangerous, if that makes sense. You want me to be more specific?"

"Mmm. How much does your current outfit reflect your personal style?"

Now, there was a mirror around me, so I could see myself from several angles. Or at least it looked like there was one. "Uh. Well, I picked it out..."

"Materials, color, the... aesthetic," the salesman continued.

"So you know, I'm kind of, a special case. I'm sure you watch the news, or have it beamed into your brain or whatever. I'm that wolf who was unfrozen from that ship, from..."

"Oh, I recognized you immediately. That explains the unusual name. What exactly is a hawk? You said it was some sort of bird."

"Yeah, a bird of prey, like it eats other birds. They glare a lot, like me." I then glared for effect. "I like black leather, fancy stuff, I say rakish but I dunno if you know what that means. This is a bit much I think, I uh, I bought this for stomping around those entertainment plaza sorts of places. You know what I'd like? I'd like a leather blazer... suit jacket, sport coat, whatever you call it. No shirt. I don't wear shirts. Leather pants, jeans style, that means just straight leg, front pockets, no slash pockets, no pleats. Leather belt. If you can gimme a wolf-head belt buckle that's fine, but a nice simple rectangular one will do. Silver-style metal. And... well, riding boots, but if you can gimme an underslung heel and a kind of pointed toe, and a harness like this," I gestured to my boot. "That's what I want."

He nodded along as I talked, and then went over to some sort of terminal. "You must have culture shock, seeing all of this."

"Ehh, I've been on another station for a few weeks. Daleon."

He paused. "Oh. Well, then I expect you still have culture shock, coming here. Pardon me while I attempt to... find what you might be looking for. You might be surprised to know that the original settlers from Earth brought quite a lot of information with them, and that informed style which has of course changed over time, and yet some things are never quite lost."

"You're pretty fancy. We're in the fancy part of the station. That bunny out there - he's a hare, don't tell him I said bunny - says it's the really really fancy part. So, you know, keep it simple. It doesn't need to be garish or baroque or complicated. A tall, black wolf, in a black leather business suit and fancy boots, who looks like you don't want to find out if he has a gun or not."

"Mmm," the gazelle responded. "Look down at yourself again. Is this a correct view of yourself, without clothes?"

I looked down, and I was completely naked. "Aahhh, fuck, uh, yeah." Not only did I see it on myself, I saw it in the mirrors.

"Good. You must have had a very recent augment entrainment. Usually we have to do it again. Now, how about this?"

Abruptly, I was dressed, in entirely different clothes. I immediately felt myself; that's where the simulation ended, as I could feel the wide lapels of my officer's coat even though what I saw was a double-breasted leather blazer. It was, for the most part, what I asked for. The coat had the same sort of short-front and slant back to tails as what I was really wearing, though it was worn open. Instead of just fur, I had something on my chest. It looked a bit like a vest that was made out of leather straps. "What is this?"

"While you said you never wear a shirt, that would be a very unpopular style this season."

Instead of gauntlet gloves, I had simple dress gloves, made out of something like fine-scaled alligator or even snake, a very faint hint of red in the otherwise black color. A simple black belt, and a two-piece clasp buckle. The pants were fitted as I asked for, with an old-style vertical snap fly, though the knees had that same sort of color and patterning as the gloves with a 'diamond peak' up the center of each thigh. The boots were riding boots with a slanted heel and the pointed toe, and an angular look to the leather I'd seen in Mike's boots. "These are some boots," I said, paying special attention to stare at them.

"Indeed. Flame-surfacing is the style. I regret to say it's because of..." He then sighed, "Xyrex. Apparently, he borrowed from several famous designers when crafting his video look. What a silly thing," he shook his head. "However, the boots do match perfectly with the outfit."

"Alright. Yeah. This is actually pretty cool. This works. This is me," I said, mugging about. Did I get a little aroused? Yes. Did the gazelle notice? He seemed to smile more and more the longer we were in whatever space.

He waved his hand and the simulation ended. We were in a room, however it was very simply adorned with a couple of chairs for waiting, a footstool, and his terminal. "In order to stay in line with your... means of payment, it will be all tier 2 synth leather. However, do note that it's the style that is very important. You likely have no idea that these designs are all from one house here. They will be instantly recognizable."

"Yeah, I kinda have an image problem. I uh, there's something about me that kind of upsets people when I'm just... around, and I'd rather just excite and interest people."

"What, may I ask, did you do before your unfortunate adventure?"

"I ran a sex club. So basically like these Hener Shadows kind of places, except where I'm from, a lot - a lot - of people didn't necessarily like that stuff."

"Ahhh, that explains the excite and interest part," he nodded. "Your outfit will be ready in about half of one hour. You may wait here; I will bring it out for you." He then walked out of a door, and left me alone.

I was shocked to find that there were magazines to read, and not some simulation. Actual glossy paper. There was also a box which I found to be a snack tray, with some sort of familiar nuts and things, and some very obviously Tark weirdo stuff as well. All that was missing was a cigar. Shit, I miss cigars. No one smokes anything around here.

["This is fucking weird,"] Strake messaged me.

["Welcome to the future. I wonder what happens if you have to go to the bathroom. Or the litterbox."]

["Fuck off and die, smelly wolf."]

["I'm not the one who smells like blood. Marece is nuts."]

["That jackalope is probably reading our messages."]

["Jackalope!"] And I laughed out loud.

Thirty minutes later, on the dot, the gazelle returned with a portable clothing rack. On it was a pair of boots, a hanging jacket and the vest-like-thing, another hanger with the pants, and the gloves were tucked into the pocket. There were also several different styles of underwear - boxer briefs, just briefs, and a jockstrap. All were made out of a glossy and almost scintillating dark fabric. There was even a small bottle of something. "Do not take this as an insult, but you could use with a coordinated scent."

"Yeah, yeah, I stink, I know. Like I said, I'm new here, and this is a fancy meeting I'm going to." I bet this guy thinks I'm some kind of mafia muscle. That's fine with me, everyone always thinks I'm in the mafia. I even sound like it, if you're from Earth.

He gestured to the outfit, and then turned away, hands clasped in front. Time to change.

It fit exactly. The leather smelled like leather; I guess synthetic meant synthesized and not plastic. I went with the jockstrap, because I'm that kind of wolf, and I didn't want to disappoint him by not wearing anything at all under my pants. The only real unusual part was the vest thing - instead of having the lapels of a normal vest, it entirely covered my chest. It looked a bit like a harness-strap basketweave, except there were numerous dark metal clasps that formed two 'lines' down either side of my chest, spaced perfectly with the open coat lapels. The cologne was dense and smelled a lot like 'perfume musk', with a hint of tobacco spice. Very classy.

And, in an actual mirror on the side of the cart, I really cut a look. "Perfect."

He came over and reached out, held his hands out, and I realized I was to put mine in his since his fingers had the 'payment lines'. Six thousand credits. "Huh. Uhh, well, that's actually less than what I was wearing... and that was off the rack."

"You had quite an outfit on. T3 leather. We will clean it for you and send it back to your ship via courier. May your meeting go without trouble," he said, and gestured for me to head back out the way I'd come in.

Marece was out there, and looked up from some sort of device he was playing with. It looked a bit like a little zen sand garden, although it hovered in the air instead of sitting on anything. He had Strake's case at his feet.

"How do I look?" I held my arms out, palms up, expansive.

"An improvement," he nodded. "Probably appropriate. Definitely you." He leaned in and sniffed, and nodded again.

"It fuckin' better be. It cost half of what I have left." That made him go agog at me and gasp loudly. "What? Someone just gave me a million fucking credits and I blew most of it on gas for a spaceship. Fuel. You... you're not gawking at me."

I turned around, and Strake was standing there, dressed in a tuxedo. Not a leather tuxedo, not a make believe tuxedo tee-shirt. An actual full-on satin-lapel black jacket white shirtfront italian dress shoe black bowtie tuxedo. He looked sour, and yet, completely full of himself. "This fancy enough, TARE-hare?"

"Do not call me that," Marece snapped.

"No fighting, we gotta go to this meeting thing, remember? And this is a nice place."

Marece stood, wheeled his cart over, and pushed it against Strake so the handle jabbed him in the groin. "Yes, listen to the wolf. And now, lead us on, as you obviously know where we're going."

--

We weren't already in the fanciest part. I could tell, because when we got off another short transport hop, we were somewhere less fancy at first glance. Less conspicuous. Unless your job is to be someone super public, really rich people don't often look it. At least on Earth, and apparently on Corrin Station. That made sense to me - the people on the flight to Dominion Prime looked pretty ordinary. Clean, but ordinary. I knew for a fact that they were unbelievably rich. Poor coyote asshole. He lost all his money, and his family. But mostly his money. I guess his life, too.

We were escorted by a security guard into a building, and then went up an elevator what seemed like a skyscraper's amount, before emptying out into a posh waiting area. No one else was there except for a receptionist. A housecat. Huh. A siamese - teal point, I guess that's the nice way of saying it. Huh, again. Deja-vu. I didn't recognize them; they just were familiar.

"Ahh, you must be the courier," the cat said, to Strake. "He wasn't... expecting others." He then pressed a button, and leaned over towards quite an old-fashioned-looking intercom. "Sir, three to see you. It's the courier you are expecting."

Despite the cat talking out loud, he must have gotten his response into an earpiece. "Hmm. Well, ahh, that's... I don't think he's going to see you."

Strake looked like he was about to rip out of his brand-new suit. Marece looked like he was sizing up the situation. Strake growled. "I, have been contracted, to obtain-"

I moved in front of him. "Hey there. Mind if I push that?" I leaned over and pushed the button anyway. "Hi there, mister expensive person. Strake here has gone to a lot of trouble to get your... whatever it is. It's probably a good idea to honor whatever agreement you've made. Also, we just bought really fucking nice clothes to come up here."

"I don't think that's going to work," Marece said. "You're... a little coarse."

The door behind the cat buzzed loudly and snapped. The cat flipped his ears back. "I guess he changed his mind." The cat then gestured.

I shrugged, and we all walked through the door. It was a blind entry - there was a decorative waterfall, some curios, and... wood flooring. Very nice wood flooring. It made an amazing old saloon clunk when I walked on it. I like that kind of thing, by the way. It's... look, go find a pair of boots, find a pair of horse spurs, and tromp around in an old house, or a make-believe old house, whatever. You'll see what I mean.

Then, we rounded the corner, and-

"Good afternoon, Mister Kirsch." The words were uttered by a lion who sat at a very old-fashioned wooden CEO desk. He leaned forward, elbows on the top, tawny fingers peaked. Even sitting down, his presence loomed so heavily that Marece actually leaned slightly backwards when he caught sight. It was the same sort of expression some Selnari made if I happened to move towards them when I was... radiating, or whatever.

"Holy fucking shit. Harley." I immediately snapped my head over to Strake, who didn't look like he was experiencing any sort of glee at this obvious another fucking Earth person moment.

"Uhh, excuse me?" Marece said.

"My name is Harley Benson," the lion said. "And this wolf is unfortunately a long-time acquaintance of mine."

"Friend. We're friends."

"Those are not my words," Harley said, his contrabass voice beaming directly at me. No tricks; he just had long mastered the art of scaring people shitless by talking at them.

Marece looked frazzled. "You mean, you're from-"

Harley stood up, walked around the table, strode directly up to Strake, and ignored me and Marece completely. "Have your bodyguard wait outside."

"Excuse me, it's consort, and I cannot-" Marece started, and Harley turned to him. The lion wore a dark blue suit and pants, a light yellow cream shirt, a maroon slant-stripe tie, black dress shoes, and his mane added at least another foot to his height, or at least it seemed to.

"I do not care who you are or who you work for. And, I assure you, I know who you are, and who you work for. Go wait outside with my receptionist." Harley pointed a finger, a rotten scowl across his muzzle.

Marece lifted his hands, and backed up out of the room.

"I am really fucking surprised you said that to him, considering what he did to someone-"

Now it was my turn. Harley turned to me. "I have waited five hundred years just for the chance to tell you, once more, to shut up. This is a business transaction, and I intend to complete it. Now," Harley said, and walked back to his desk, then gestured to the top green placemat.

Strake picked up his case and put it up, and then opened it. I moved over so I could see, and didn't dare get closer. I didn't need two large, man-eating felines deciding they wanted to try and see how wolf compares. I'm not sure what I expected - money, guns, jewels, some sort of priceless artifact. Instead, there was a large plastic bag of,

"Weehhd?" I couldn't help saying it, put my hand up to my muzzle, and then grunted into it. "Sorry, it's this cologne, it's gonna make me sneeze."

Harley narrowed his eyes at me, then looked back to the case. Actually, in addition to the bag of obvious cured cannabis nuggets, there were several vials of yellowy-green stuff that I swore was wax extract, and also a glass container full of... seeds. Harley lifted that one out, and looked at it. Then, he leaned in, and sniffed. And sniffed. And sniffed. "I cannot believe it."

"Yeah, well, you can believe whatever you want, but I went to fucking Earth for that. And they don't really like anyone coming to visit."

"I trust you weren't too inconvenienced," Harley said, and while sounding dour, no longer seemed so mad.

"They killed me. I escaped anyway."

The lion winced, a gesture I'd rarely seen him make. "I did not intend for you to make that kind of unpleasant sacrifice."

"You paid me to go buy one very specific strain of fucking marijuana from a planet that refuses to be part of the Galactic Network so much that they tried to start a war over it. What the fuck did you think would happen? They'd just escort me back out?"

Harley's response was a deep, rib-clattering, "Mmmh." He then turned his hands up in the, 'pay me now' gesture, and Strake reached out. From my perspective, I could see the transaction happen - and the payment glow 'went the other way'. "Of course, you have fulfilled your duty expertly. It is clear that no one else would have likely succeeded without creating an incident."

"I'm not doing that again," Strake said.

"You won't need to. You even got the seeds. Please go wait outside with the Hener agent."

Strake nodded and stomped out.

"As for you," Harley snarled. "We are on the other side of the galaxy, five hundred years in the future, in another entirely different dimension if you believe those fuck-addled zealots like your bunny-rabbit friend, and somehow, you managed to insert yourself into my life again like someone sticking their very expensive and flashy riding boot in the door." His voice was the, 'not only am I firing you, I'm making sure you cry while I do it' sort of one that he had perfected as a ruthless business consultant.

"Yeah, well-"

He then grabbed me and popped my back while hugging me. "You insolent, disgusting fuck. What are the odds?! You told me you bought your way onto that ship and then, of course, it disappeared. And we would never hear from it again. I regretted my own decision for quite some time, joining the migration. Have you heard what happened?"

"Uhh, sorta. This fox guy I knew is here, actually, I'm using his ship. Well, I'm having Strake use his ship." He almost begrudgingly let go, and I straightened my leathers. "He went the long way around, he kinda told me about it the other day. What about Zale..." I said, and when I said just those two words, Harley's face descended into darkness that was not the usual big-cat anger.

"You heard what happened, didn't you? When we were on that 'other' Selnar? Clearly, I am the one of us who survived." Factoid: Zale was his... husband, in a way, of Harley's contrivance. A holly-golightly zebra with a blue mohawk.

"Well, fuck." He continued staring; I felt really stupid. Then his eyes dropped down. "Hey. I'm sorry. I didn't know." I actually liked Zale quite a bit; Varius reminded me of him, except Varius could perhaps say a sentence in English while, like me and Mike, Zale never shut up.

"Why would you know anything," he said. "Not because you're reckless and dumb and canine, just because... why would you know anything? You were frozen." He then sat back down. "I saw your look when Strake presented me with this. I bet you think it is ridiculous." Harley was incapable of sounding casual about anything. Sometimes, it was terrifying. Other times, it was kind of silly. He really, really committed to it.

"It's... you have that thing, right? Carsen's neuropathy."

"One would think that we would have solved all possible medical problems, in the process of building a galactic empire. Clearly not. I would even partake of it right now, however, smoking is... illegal. More importantly, it is inappropriate in the presence of others. In my own private home, of course, I can do anything I want. This is merely my office."

Carsen's neuropathy is a problem that 'First' hybrids often have, that the other kinds of them can't. It's some sort of chronic pain disorder. There's one particular strain of marijuana that, for whatever reason, has just the right mix of those 'terpene' things that make it smell and taste funny. It dampens the pain down without having all the other side effects of all the other treatments. Luckily, I don't have the disorder. Harley isn't lucky.

"Well, it's uh, kinda fun to see you again," I said.

"Did you purchase that outfit just to come see me?" he said.

"Well, we had to dress up nice. This is a fancy place. I didn't know who I was coming to see. Strake didn't feel like telling me anything."

"As I directed him to. As well, he is not very forthcoming about most things. I have known him since the migration. He has made an interesting change in his life - he used to be a renegade biker, and he was excessively violent. I think dying a few times perhaps changed his outlook on life. Perhaps piloting starships is the space version of riding a motorcycle." Harley stood up as he talked and paced around.

"I'm not so sure about the 'no longer excessively violent' thing, although if you know more than I do, I'll trust you. I dunno about me. I'm... I feel like I'm kinda reliving my past. Mechanic job, sex parties, crushing ennui when I'm not doing either of those things... that's how I got started."

"Mmh," he grunted. He idly flicked his thumb clawnail against his middle one. He looked thoughtfully pensive. I didn't like that look. That look meant he was cooking up some idea and whenever he had an idea for me, it was always something... that stuck it to me. We had a relationship, in the sense that he helped me with some non-profit accounting stuff I did on the side, I mean I ran a non-profit and he did the accounting stuff. In exchange for that, I let him fuck me. That's not really the arrangement. We tended to get each other back and forth, too.

"You alright over there?"

"You have not changed, despite everything."

I shrugged. "You want me to?"

"No. I have something for you. I think you might do much better with it than I. It does me no good." He opened up something under a whiskey bar, some sort of electronic safe. It was intensive to get into; not only did he have to do some biometric scanning of his hand, he had to crouch down and look into an eye scanner. Then, he opened it, shuffled things around, and brought something out. It looked like... a USB drive. Of course, it wasn't, because what the fuck would someone do with USB when you can implant stuff into people's eyeballs. Same idea - small finger-sized rectangular object. "It does nothing for me, is what I mean."

"You know, what do you even... do?"

"That is left as an exercise for the reader," he said. I squinted at the response. "Are you not familiar-"

"No, no, I know what that means. I get it."

"You have changed as much as I have changed. You have lost something very important to you. We have both lost the same thing. You will find that I am wealthy, as I was before. The means are different. I can assure you that if there is anything bad about me, there are many, many people in and around the network who are much, much worse." He then handed me the object. "This is not a burden. Neither is it easy. It is also not in-network. That device, specifically, is an artifact of the actual gift; everything is electronic, digital, holographic, or otherwise nebulous."

I looked at the device. There wasn't any way to turn it on. "I didn't do anything to deserve this, whatever it is, uh, I mean, anything, like what'd I even do? Actually, I really ruined someone's... life, by getting on that Dominion Prime ship."

Harley was smiling at me. His eyebrows were raised, his black lips were pulled back, and all of his teeth were showing. It was the same look Strake had used, and it was an awful, terrible, rotten, malicious, nefarious, and worst of all, playful cat look. "You deserve what I jus gave you. Now, leave. I have other business to attend to, and I suspect your TARE 'consort' will be chewing on anything green out of nervousness if he cannot keep his crazy hare eyes on you."

I pocketed the device, into an inside and zipped pocket of the brand-new jacket, and then headed back out to the reception waiting room. Of course that's why the cat was familiar; the siamese cat, the same breed he'd always had for a secretary as long as I'd known him.

The tiger shrugged. "Come on, let's go. I wanna find out what that nervous fox and horseapples are up to. This place makes me itch. I hate rich people."

"You look great," I said, and slapped Strake. He seemed to be happy enough with whatever he got paid, that he didn't get mad and try to hurt me.

Marece was entirely displeased, though relieved the moment he saw me again. I decided not to tell them about whatever had happened just yet. I didn't know what Harley had given me, but if Harley was giving me anything, it was definitely for me. At least it wasn't panties. He had me wear panties once. I don't do good in drag.