Wings of the Seraph

1

Calling Briton Chalo a shithole was an insult to other shitholes. The sprawling spaceport was a truly unique amalgamation of glamour and sleaze, from the ludicrously overpriced casinos on the main promenade to the dark, dank dens of vice and violence on the lower levels. The Convectorate had officially labeled the station an Unpacified Peripheral Territory, which was essentially bureaucratic shorthand for "lawless backwater nightmare."

This particular nightclub was better than most, though I already regretted that I'd left my earplugs back on the ship. The alien music in the background combined the dulcet, sonorous tones of fingernails on glass with the omnidirectional shrieking of a Rakashi cub being strangled in an alleyway. Worse, the bright, seizure-inducing lights made my brain want to leak out of my ears.

Still, there were some advantages to working out of a place like this. Namely, the ability to find three drunk, easily-impressed alien girls who were eager to suck a lonely spacer's cock in exchange for a few credits.

"

Meshu taale

," my Neyris companion whispered as she nibbled at my ear and clawed at my bare chest. Her friends—a slender, pale-skinned Subari and a leggy, red-skinned Kreen—had already torn off my shirt and were working hard at unfastening my belt.

"Why don't you have something to eat, sweetheart?" I asked, grabbing a handful of the Subari's black hair and pushing her to her knees. Her eyes gaped wide when my thick member finally burst free, and I barely gave her the chance to brace herself before I thrust the tip between her pouty red lips. I didn't really need a warmup—I was so hyped up on stims that I would probably be hard the rest of the night—but I never passed up the opportunity to fuck a pretty face.

While she valiantly struggled to work my full length down her throat, her friends continued biting, licking, and kissing me all over. They had told me back in the club that they were best friends who "shared everything," which was a fairly normal scam to distract me while one of them stole or sliced into my holopad, but this wasn't my first time through the star lanes. At twenty-two, I had probably seen more of this part of the galaxy than most men twice my age. Growing up as an orphan with the Red Ring pirates might have been hell for a whole lot of reasons, but at least I had learned some tricks along the way.

"Take it all," I breathed, holding the Subari's head firmly against me as I probed the depths of her throat with my cock. All three girls were more or less humanoid, which meant that aside from having the correct number of eyes and limbs, they also had proper mouths and cunts for me to fuck. Considering some of the places we visited on a regular basis, a man could easily take such things for granted.

After spending three of the last four weeks blasting from port to port, barely stopping long enough to restock and refuel, I was actually hoping that our contact here would be his usual tardy self. I had raked in enough from the last shipment that I could afford to keep these girls on hand for a few days if I wanted to—and I definitely did. Mostly because they still had a lot of young, tight holes to fill...but also because I would have given just about anything for a few days away from my annoying partner.

My cock throbbed in delight at the Subari's strained gurgles, and I knew if I wasn't careful I would drown this poor girl with a month's worth of loneliness and frustration. But as much as I would have loved watching her try to swallow the flood, I had other plans for my first offering of the night. Besides, I was confident I had more than enough saved up to feed her later.

"Not so fast, sweetheart," I said, tugging at her hair and pulling her off me. Her lips smacked like a suction cup, and she looked up at me in confusion with her big black eyes. "You're doing great, but I want to have your friend here first."

I dragged my fingertips across the Kreen's taut abdomen and gestured with my chin towards the bed. She eagerly pulled me down onto the mattress, her long purple hair spilling across the sheets and her green, cat-like eyes glinting seductively. She was already naked from the waist up—she must have already cast aside her flimsy halter top when I wasn't looking—and her "friends" helpfully pulled off her panties to clear the way. I hoisted her smooth, silky red thighs onto my shoulders, marveling at the intense heat of her skin. If I'd had a milliliter of sense, I would have bought one of the special condoms in the lobby—or, failing that, I would have just fucked one of her friends first instead. But there was something irresistible about the scalding heat of a female Kreen, especially when you were as hopped up on stims as I was right now.

"Holy shit," I gasped as the tip of my cock slipped inside. Her cunt was like a damned plasma conduit, and when she slipped her tongue through my lips I realized her mouth was, too. I knew I was going to have to take this slowly, and I planned to savor every minute of it.

I fucked her hard for thirty seconds before I pulled out and had the Subari cool my cock with her tongue. After another fiery plunge, I ordered the Neyris girl to do the same. When I pounded into the Kreen for the third time, I knew I was only seconds from leaving my gratitude all over her stomach and tits. Watching her friends clean up the mess would almost certainly get me ready for round two...

"Cole. Cole, please respond."

I turned and glared at my holopad. It was attached to my belt on the floor, and if I'd had a pulse pistol in my hand I almost certainly would have shot the damn thing.

Not now, Raxyl...

"Ignore that," I said as I grabbed the Kreen's thighs and thrust into her even harder.

"Based on your past behavior, I can only assume you are ignoring me," Raxyl's infuriatingly calm voice went on. "Our contact is early. I need you to meet me in the lounge as soon as possible."

I hissed and continued pumping. There was no way in hell I was going to answer him right now. The only question was whether or not I could make myself spill before the Kreen's smoldering cunt burned my cock to cinders...

"Since I assume you are currently entertaining multiple females," Raxyl added, "did you at least inform them that your last test for Thalydia came back positive? I realize the disease only affects a handful of species, but sexual transmission is the most common cause of infection. Your partners should be informed just in case—"

"

Baluta

!" the Kreen screeched, bracing her feet on my shoulders and kicking me off of her. I stumbled backwards, waving my hands defensively in front of me.

"Don't listen to him!" I pleaded. "He's just trying to mess with me, I swear! I don't have—"

The girls hissed and swore at me in their native tongues so quickly and so angrily my translator implant couldn't keep up. When I tried to grab their arms and calmly explain that my partner was a piece of garbage, the Neyris smacked me so hard she actually drew blood. The girls retrieved their clothes in record time, and a few seconds later I was standing there alone rubbing my jaw, my cock still hard and sizzling.

"Fuck!" I growled, leaning down and grabbing the holopad. "Listen to me, you spineless little snake. When I get down there, I'm going to—"

"Our contact has offered to pay us quadruple our normal rate," Raxyl said. "And he plans to give us half in advance."

My rage cooled like I had just dunked my head in ice water. My cock, strangely, might have actually gotten even harder. "

Quadruple

?"

"Yes, and the delivery is only a few parsecs outside our normal operating zone."

I ran a hand back through my hair and glanced at myself in the smudged mirror beside the bed. "So what's the catch?"

"I don't know yet, but he wants to meet us outside in thirty minutes. I suggest you get dressed and join me in the bar."

I swallowed and forced myself to take a deep breath. I refused to get my hopes up—we'd had enough deals fall through these past few months that I was suspicious of anything that sounded too good to be true. But for twenty thousand credits, half in advance...

"I'll be there in a minute," I said, glancing down at my discarded clothes. "Have a drink ready for me."

***

The lounge in the basement of this particular club had even worse lightning than most of its competitors, but for once I was thankful for the long shadows. Those alien girls could have run down here and told everyone I was trying to give them Thalydia for all I knew, and the harder it was for any local thugs they'd hired to recognize me, they better. I kept as low of a profile as I could while I maneuvered through the undulating crowd towards the thin serpentine man sitting at the bar.

"Here is your beverage, though I am not certain I trust the intentions of the bartender," Raxyl said, his normally brown neck scales rippling a curious shade of blue. "He does not seem to care for me."

"I can't imagine why," I grumbled as I hopped into the seat. "You don't drink, you don't gamble, you don't fuck...do Kali do anything for fun besides eat those disgusting worm things?"

"We enjoy making business deals that will enrich ourselves and our partners," he replied mildly. "Or would you have preferred I took the money and left on my own?"

"This is why I changed the security codes to the landing ramp when you weren't looking."

"You honestly don't believe I could slice into the console before you finished your reckless copulation?"

I grunted and took a sip of the blue liquor in my glass. There were times I seriously resented having an alien as a partner, though it wasn't as if there were a lot of humans out here for me to choose from. The Varsellian sector was ten thousand light-years from the nearest Dominion world—I hadn't even seen another human in almost a year.

Still, I could have chosen a more agreeable species. Kreen were normally pretty submissive, especially the females, and I could always purchase a maintenance drone to handle repairs. All she would really need to do is watch my back and give me something fun to look at on the long jaunts through the Hepates Cluster...

"I do regret disrupting your mating rituals," Raxyl said after a moment. "I had intended to play

kolarjik

all night, but I did not want to risk missing this opportunity."

I turned and eyed him for a long moment. His scales were shimmering a neutral gray, suggesting he probably meant what he said. Unlike most other humanoid species, Kali didn't have conventional expressions or body language. The only way to discern their mood was from the color of their scales, and in my experience his people weren't particularly good at lying. The biological response was probably too powerful.

"If it works out, I'll forgive you," I murmured.

"And if not?"

"We'll see," I said, taking another sip of my drink.

His scales turned a pensive black. "If we do get paid, you will have ample resources to purchase the services of as many females as you wish."

"Is that your version of 'I'm sorry for saying you had an STD over an open com?'"

"Perhaps," Raxyl murmured. His yellow, serpentine eyes blinked twice. "In a different port, you may even be able to find females more to your liking."

"I liked the ones I had just fine."

"Yet you have spent the last forty-six seconds staring at that Boromid on the stage. I assume you wish to copulate with her."

I nearly spit the last of my drink across the bar. "What?"

"Earlier, you only spent thirty-two seconds staring at that Neyris dancer before you attempted to purchase her services as a prostitute. Since you have been making direct eye contact with the Boromid for an even longer period of time, I assume you also wish to—"

"She has fourteen arms!" I interrupted, scowling at him.

"Yes, and in my experience humans enjoy the sensation of tactile contact. A being with multiple limbs could—"

"She's a giant disgusting bug! I prefer my women without shells and mandibles, thanks."

"Interesting," Raxyl replied evenly. "I shall update my behavioral profile."

I sighed and rubbed a hand across my temples.

He wasn't actually sorry about what he did at all—he was just trolling me. Apparently I had partnered with the only Kali in the universe capable of sarcasm.

"We might as well head to the rendezvous," Raxyl said after another moment. "If we're late, Maarka will get nervous."

"Maarka is

always

nervous," I reminded him. "He better not ask us to smuggle weapons again."

"For this price, would you refuse?"

"No," I muttered. "But I'd rather not end up in a Convectorate penal colony if at all possible. You know how hard they've been cracking down lately. They're worried someone's trying to arm all the resistance groups cropping up on the border worlds."

"I am not overly concerned," Raxyl said, standing. "You are a surprisingly competent pilot despite your other obvious failings."

I grunted and followed him out of the club. The alley in the back was every bit as shady as I remembered from our last visit, which was why Raxyl had thought ahead and scheduled the meeting a few streets over. Thanks to all the drugs still pumping through my system, my eyes were reflexively flicking about in search of potential threats. My partner helpfully decided to activate his full camouflage reflex, which shifted the color of his scales until he was virtually invisible to the naked eye.

"Great," I muttered. "I love being the only target."

"Do not worry, Cole. If someone does shoot you, I should be able to sneak up on them and avenge you with ease."

"Wonderful."

Thankfully, no one decided a lone human in a shoddy jacket was worth murdering, and barely thirty seconds after we reached the rendezvous a blue-green Meldonian man rounded the corner in front of us.

"Wonderful friends: great gladness for your arrival!" Maarka said in his barely understandable language. Without my translator implant, I would have assumed he was trying to blow bubbles through his gills. "Ready for business, yes?"

"You know we are," I said, reflexively scanning the rooftops for snipers. I couldn't imagine why a dipshit lackey like Maarka would want us dead, but in a port like Briton Chalo it never hurt to be careful.

"Rare cargo for you this time, yes? Very special. Very delicate."

"You know from experience that we are capable of handling anything," Raxyl said. He had already dropped his camouflage; Maarka was skittish enough without my partner materializing out of thin air.

"Yes, yes," the Meldonian said. "But big boss worries. Big boss wants guarantee."

"If you're still promising ten thousand up front, I'll guarantee anything your boss wants," I said. "Just tell us what we're moving."

"No tell," Maarka said, shaking his stupid fish head. "We show."

He signaled behind him, and a moment later one of his goons—an armored Krosian man with biceps the size of my leg—emerged from the shadows with a repulsor cart carrying a two meter long, half meter wide cylinder. Most people probably would have mistaken it for an empty torpedo tube or perhaps some kind of weird coffin, but I recognized a stasis chamber when I saw one.

"Very special, very delicate," Maarka repeated. "You understand now, Captain Cole Vontera?"

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled when I leaned forward to take a look. I expected the tube to be filled with weapons or bombs—stasis chambers could often mask energy signatures well enough to slip munitions through security scanners. But there weren't any crates or explosives or even rifles inside.

Instead, there was a woman.

"Undamaged and unspoiled, yes?" Maarka said. "Very rare, very precious gift for the big boss."

My mouth fell open. The woman was a Velothi, a blue-skinned humanoid race whose females were highly coveted as exotic dancers and pleasure slaves all across the galaxy. They were common in this sector, however—there were probably hundreds on Briton Chalo alone—so I didn't understand why this one would be so valuable.

Unless...

"She is a Succubus," I reasoned.

"Yes, yes," Maarka confirmed. "Unspoiled and ready."

I nodded and swallowed. So she wasn't just another random Velothi slave girl, then. Succubi were essentially genetically-engineered concubines designed to fit the exact specifications of a particular master. They automatically "Imprinted" themselves upon their first sexual partner, ensuring that they would be the perfect submissive mate. And since Velothi lived three times longer than the average human, they would remain young and nubile for many decades to come...

Powerful corporate executives, crime lords, military leaders...they would commission their own Succubus decades in advance, and she wouldn't be delivered until she had grown to full maturity. Even in a lawless sector filled with grift and sleaze, the idea of powerful men literally designing their own sex slave stood out as particularly decadent.

Though frankly, this girl would have been worth a Krosian's weight in credits even if she weren't a Succubus. Her body was the perfect fusion of supple and slender, from her long legs to her ample breasts, and her thin metallic bikini left little to the imagination. The horns splitting through her long black hair were far more exotic in person than in the holos, as were the sleek, twenty centimeter long cranial tendrils sprouting from the back of her neck and dangling across her shoulders. Her tail was curled neatly around one of her legs almost like a bowtie wrapping up a present.

"You understand now, yes?" Maarka asked. "Big boss grows impatient. Big boss wants delivery soon."

"I bet he does," I said, a guilty knot twinging in the pit of my stomach. Maarka's boss, a notorious pirate lord named Gol Zabras, was a truly remarkable piece of filth. He also happened to be one of the only other humans in the sector, and as a result he had been our most reliable employers over the years. We had run almost everything for him at one time or another, from drugs to medical supplies to weapons. But we had never trafficked actual

people

for him before. Somehow it seemed even more disgusting.

"Four cycles," Maarka said. "If you deliver girl within four cycles, big boss will pay you extra."

I glanced back at Raxyl. His scales were shimmering a curious blue, and I would have given just about anything for a private conversation with him right now. We desperately needed the money if we wanted to remain independent, but this whole arrangement was already leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

"Four cycles it is," I said, mentally mapping out potential routes. Reaching Zabras in four days wouldn't be a problem at all—the

Gazack's

hyperdrive was fast enough that we could probably make the trip in two, especially since we weren't ferrying actual contraband.

"Good, good," Maarka said. "I will transfer advance payment, yes? Will deliver girl to ship."

I nodded and glanced back into the stasis chamber and the sleeping beauty within. Just looking at her made my cock ache. The things I wanted to do to her—the things I wanted her to do to

me

. She looked so sweet, so peaceful, so young...

And all we had to do to get rich was deliver her into the hands of a scumbag like Gol Zabras.

"We'll meet you there," I said, trying to ignore the guilty knot twisting in the pit of my stomach. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

***

We arrived back at our ship shortly thereafter, and as usual I took a few minutes to scan the hull for any tracking devices or obvious sabotage. Raxyl had just installed a better security system on the

Wild

Gazack

a few weeks ago, but it never hurt to be cautious. Perhaps the biggest advantage of flying around in an obsolete pre-war freighter was that almost no one would bother trying to steal it. The sensor-reflecting plates would prevent potential thieves from scanning the interior and realizing just how much work we had done to the old girl over the years.