A Whore at Dread Harbor

Embrace Her

To hell with it. Deckard had spent so many years of his life alone on the frontier that the need for honest companionship overrode his lawman's instinct to find answers.

He hugged Corani, pulling her tight against him as she purred into his chest. He felt a rush of emotions rise up.

"Goddess," he murmured, feeling ancient wetness well up in his seldom-used tear ducts, "where did the years go?"

He'd been on

Dread Harbor

for the better part of a day now, but it was only here, with his old friend that he realized how real it all felt again. All those memories, all those awful moments shared with Corani. She was the only person in the galaxy who understood what he'd gone through, and vice versa. Time and space might have separated them, but their shared camaraderie transcended all of it.

They were back again, in the bowels of

Dread Harbor.

All alone, except for each other.

They stood there together for more than a minute, two survivors clinging to one another as time flew past them in reverse. Corani settled her head against his shoulder, taking deep inhales as she held him. Deckard wrapped his arms around her, enshrouding her in his duster coat. No words were exchanged, but the feeling was there all the same.

Dearest friend, I've missed you.

At last Deckard - with some reluctance - pulled away. Corani stared up at him with shining eyes. They reverted to their true color - the color they'd once been before her transformation: a pale, baby blue. The shade of Catia's night sky when its first sun had set.

She smiled that awkward smile of hers, breaking past the cultivated expression of her seductress persona to reveal the real person underneath. Deckard grinned, feeling suddenly ten years younger.

"I'm sorry," She said, sniffling. "I should have called you. I always wondered what had happened to y-" she stopped herself, shaking her head back and forth. "I-I never was very good at following through, was I?"

Deckard smiled, patting Corani on the head. "You did all right, little mouse. I'm here, aren't I?"

Corani's face lit up at the sound of his old nickname for her. Her irises flashed a dazzling pink. "Where have you been? How did you get my message? I would have thought you'd be halfway across the

galaxy

by..." She stopped herself. The flustered Catian let out a heavy sigh.

"...I'm sorry. My heart got the better of me there for a second. I want to know

everything

about your adventures the last decade, really I do." She straightened her shoulders, and suddenly the cool, confident Corani from the bar was back. "But first things first: to business."

His old friend pulled away from him and circled around her small desk, taking a seat and gesturing for him to do the same. "Please." She said, allowing a small smile to cross her artificial lips.

Deckard took his seat, settling into the uncomfortable palasteel chair in front of her. He hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his duster jacket and adopted a cocky grin.

"So..." He said, "Running with the Loupian Mafia, are we?"

Corani shrugged. "Comes with the territory, I'm afraid.

Dread Harbor

's a frontier station now, a shared enterprise between three competing Megacorporations. With all the crime, corruption and turf wars between affiliated gangs that that entails."

"Venture Capitalism at its finest." Deckard said, putting his foot up on her desk.

Corani was polite enough to ignore the gesture. The flickering light of the monitors at her back cast a shadow across her features. "If wasn't the Loupians, it'd be the Catian Cartels, or the Taiyō-Gumi Yakuza. There's no such thing as an 'independent business' here on

Dread Harbor

."

"Was the station really bought out

that

fast after the GFP vacated?" Deckard marveled. It was amazing how quick the Dwarves could pounce on a potential profit margin.

Corani folded her hands together on the desk. "I don't have to tell you about this station's checkered past, Deckard. After the Goblin attack, there wasn't a single sanctioned colonial company willing to go within ten light-years of this place. No one wanted to try to repopulate a haunted station. So the Megacorporations bought it on the cheap."

She shifted back and forth uncomfortably in her seat. "Times were... tough after you left. Not a lot of job opportunities for damaged goods like me. Not a lot of credits

anywhere

. I had to make ends meet."

Corani closed her eyes, her brow furrowing as she concentrated. Like ripples in a pond the color of her hair shifted, fluttering from white with a streak of red back to her natural, raven black. Her hair shrank into her scalp, her Catian ears growing larger and more pronounced.

With a grunt of pain her body shifted as well, shrinking in some places, swelling in others. After a few seconds of effort, she was back to her 'normal' self. Not quite as curvaceous as before, but still abnormal in size compared to the rest of her species.

"You've gotten better at that." Deckard remarked.

Corani's lips twisted with distaste, her eyes fading to a disapproving brown. "A girl's gotta keep up appearances. Being the Madame of the most exclusive bordello on

Dread Harbor

, I need to look the part."

"You own a bordello too, huh?" Deckard quirked an eyebrow. "You've been busy since I've been gone."

Corani rolled her eyes. "Spare me the moral lecture, Lieutenant. I'm too old and too jaded to care about how I earn my meals."

"Keeping the entrepreneurial spirit alive, eh?" He joked. She smirked at his off-color humor.

"Perhaps. I own the bordello, a few bars, a nightclub. The last few years have been good to me." she shrugged, "But at the end of the day, most customers want just one thing from me." She plumped out her cleavage to indicate her meaning.

Deckard's expression softened. "...I never wanted this kind of life for you, Corani."

Corani's eyes narrowed. Her prehensile tail twisted and warped behind her. "Don't you

dare

go acting the guilty martyr with me, Deckard. I chose this life, warts and all. When the Goblins were driven from

Dread Harbor

, there was nothing left. No jobs, no opportunities. What other options did a...

thing

like me have?"

"You could have come with me." Deckard murmured, speaking the words he'd been waiting almost ten years to say to her.

Corani let out a humorless chuckle. "It would have never worked. I didn't want to leave, but you couldn't stay. You had your own path to walk, Deckard. I long ago came to terms with what those monsters did to me. You, on the other hand..." She trailed off, her eyes searching for something in his features. "Did you ever

really

leave this station behind?"

Deckard shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Corani had always been a straight shooter. But these particular shots were hitting a bit too close to home.

He decided to change the subject. "...You still living out of that old apartment of mine on Deck C?" He asked, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and bringing it to his lips.

Corani smiled faintly, as if reminiscing on a fond memory. "Sadly, no. I had to sell it. Thats ass-deep in Cartel territory, nowadays."

"A shame. I liked that place." Deckard pressed the tip of his index finger against the thumb on his right hand, depressing a small button beneath the fingernail. It popped off up to the first digit, revealing a metallic shell crossed with wires beneath.

He snapped his fingers, and his thumb-lighter came to life, spewing a short burst of flame out the top that he used to light the cigarette. He flicked his hand and the hollow digit popped back into place.

Corani's eyes trailed to his cybernetic thumb. "...Where'd you get that beauty?"

Deckard chuckled, taking a drag off his cigarette, "Acquired it a few years ago while working as a Sheriff out on the fringes. Pissed off the wrong Megacorporation trying to bust an illicit Goblin slaver ring. Nearly took a bullet to the head." He let out a breath of smoke, "My thumb caught one, instead."

"How very, very like you, Deckard." Corani said, a smile growing across her face.

"Stick around, maybe I'll show you a few other scars I've picked up." He said, grinning.

Corani let out a sultry chuckle. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." She purred.

Deckard huffed, taking a second drag. "...So what's the deal, Corani? A woman like you, you don't call a guy like me unless it's urgent."

Corani sighed, "No, I suppose I wouldn't, would I? Ten years, and I never once tried to contact you."

Deckard blew smoke into the air. "Don't get all wishy-washy with me, little mouse. It's not like I ever bothered to pick up the vid-caller to give you a ring."

"You don't owe me anything, Deckard." She retorted in a heated tone. "I owe you

everything

."

Deckard chuckled, hiding his smile behind the cigarette. The burning tip illuminated his face for a brief moment in hellish, orange profile. "And yet, here I am."

Corani huddled into herself, staring at her desk for a long moment. "...I didn't really expect you to answer my call. I shouldn't even be bringing you into this mess. I can never repay my debt to you."

"I don't need your debt." Deckard said, "I need details."

Her eyes rippled a contemplative purple. "...Fine. I suppose I'm in too deep already." Deckard's eyebrow rose. Corani took in a deep breath and sighed.

"A few years ago, I had a chance encounter with a Catian geneticist who was passing through

Dread Harbor

on her way out to the frontier."

"A Catian 'geneticist?'" Deckard took a long, thoughtful drag off his cigarette. He let out a cloud of nicotine. "An illegal gene splicer, you mean."

Corani nodded, not bothering to deny it. "She was on the run from some trouble in Catian space - I don't know all the details. In exchange for protection and a place to stay, I had her take a look at me."

Deckard frowned. "Corani, you know what the GFP doctors told you. The kind of changes the Goblins made to your genetic structure? You can't just change that back."

Corani's eyes dulled to a dim yellow. "They mutated me, Deckard. Hollowed out my bones, warped my muscles, and cut off my real tail. They bolted on cybernetics and injected me with transformative enzymes that turned me into a freak. Thanks to those beasts, I can never bear children, nor form a pryde-bond with my own kind."

Deckard stopped short, his cigarette halfway to his lips. "...You can't form pryde-bonds?"

Corani nodded, unable to look him in the eyes. "Something's missing in me, apparently. Whatever they did to try to warp my genetics made me incapable of sensing other Catian's pheromones, and thanks to the Goblins

I

give off none at all."

Deckard quietly put out his cigarette, no longer able to stomach the corrosive air. "...How long have you known?"

"Years." She said. Deckard winced. Catians weren't like Humans: solitude and loneliness were deeply uncomfortable to them, to the point of outright torturous. For Corani to have been unable to form a Pryde for all that time...

Corani wiped the tears that built up in her eyes. "I know what I am, Deckard. This isn't about 'changing back' to what I was before, it's about salvaging what little of myself I have left. I might be a mongrel, but I'm still a

Catian

. I need a family, I need a

Pryde

. "

"...So how does an idiot with a gun like me factor into this?" He asked.

Corani straightened in her chair. "...Over the last decade, I've amassed a small fortune through my business ventures. I used that cash to investigate every potential lead on the Goblins in the local sectors."

"Seeking vengeance?" He asked, "I didn't take you for the type."

"Not vengeance." She answered, "Secrets. If

anyone

might have the knowledge and technology to reverse-engineer my modifications, it'd be the very people who did this to me."

"Different Goblin fleets have particular 'templates' that they use when creating their specific monsters." Corani said, "Given my own changes, it's obvious that the Goblins intended to make me one of their Agents: chemically brainwashed spies who would infiltrate, gather intelligence, and then soften up defenses for future targets. If I could find detailed schematics - or even a physical record of the process... I might be able to reverse its effects."

Deckard had only been a lowly medic in his days with the GFP, but he was familiar enough with the science of gene manipulation to know that what she was suggesting was nowhere near that simple. "-And who fed you that particular line?"

"The geneticist." Corani said, confirming his suspicions. "Turns out, she's an expert in the field. She's studied the Goblin's methods for years. In exchange for me bankrolling her research, she agreed to try to find a way to cure me of my... issue."

"You hired a fucking fanatic." Deckard said, heat building in his chest. At least the Goblins - for all their awful actions - were in many ways not conscious of the morality of their actions. But a rogue gene splicer? They were scum in the first degree.

"I'm not asking for your judgement, I'm asking for your help." Corani retorted. "Six months ago, one of my salvage teams stumbled across a derelict Goblin hive-facility located on a barren moon in the Dorantis system. After a preliminary analysis, they concluded that it had once been a major hideout for the same fleet that attacked

Dread Harbor

, possibly its former headquarters."

Deckard's chest tightened. "...And you want me to go clear it of hostiles." He said, his face going dead.

Corani shook her head. "No. I hired a private mercenary company from off station to do it for me. I sent an elite team alongside the geneticist and her entourage to secure and retrieve whatever information they could from the facility."

"I received monthly reports from the team as they delved deeper and deeper into the facility. It seemed they were getting close to the station's flesh labs, when suddenly the communications stopped." Corani's eyes fell. She couldn't bring herself to look directly at Deckard. "...I haven't heard anything from them in two months."

Deckard scowled. "You of all people should know how dangerous the Goblins can be, Corani." She didn't say anything, as if she'd expected him to be angry at her callousness. "...Why didn't you send a rescue team?"

Corani sighed, using her index finger to toy with her hair. "The situation on

Dread Harbor

is exceedingly precarious, Deckard. The balance of power is shifting; a war could break out between the factions at anytime. As an associate of the Loupians, I'm caught in the middle."

"I nearly bankrupted myself hiring the first group from off station. I did so

specifically

to avoid the danger of prying eyes finding out what I was doing with a hidden Goblin facility."

"If they figure out where my money's going, I'm ruined." Corani's eyes flickered a cobalt blue. "At best, one of the Megacorps would try to swoop in and 'aggressively acquire' the tech. And if the Catian Cartels found out that I was messing around with Goblin ruins..."

She let out a low growl, "Well, let's just say they already think I'm a sleeper agent. The only thing protecting me from reprisals is the Loupians and my relationship to the GFP garrison on

Dread Harbor

. And neither of those things will be enough to stop them if they find out about this."

"I'm in deep with the Loupians, Deckard. And I can't afford the credits to send another team. I'm out of options: I can't just leave those people to die - assuming there's even any survivors left to save. But I have no one else to turn to." Deckard watched her surgically modified eyes fade to an apologetic green. "...Which brings me to you."

Deckard felt a low, animalistic panic build in his gut at the thought of facing the Goblins again. He covered it up by pulling another cigarette from his coat. He didn't light it, instead simply perching it on the tip of his tongue. "Calling on an old friend just to send them on a suicide mission to a Goblin-infested hellhole?" He let out a heavy sigh, glancing away at the wall so he didn't have to show how intimidated he was by the thought. "That's low, Corani."

"I know." She whispered, staring at the table. "But I'm not asking you to do it alone. I

can't

ask you to do it alone. If you agree to help, I'm coming with you. We'll live or die together." She lifted her eyes, a soft smile crossing her full lips. "Just like old times, huh Lieutenant?"

How does Deckard respond?

Agree to help Corani.

Agree to help Corani, but disallow her from joining him on the mission.

Convince her to cut her losses and abandon this fool's errand.