Page 8

T he camouflage netting that hid my cyber implants itched over the left side of my face.

Since this trash heap of a moon didn’t allow any cyborgs on the surface, I had to be careful not to reveal what I was.

Being here, outside of the safety that an official GIB operation would’ve provided was bad enough, but getting arrested for being an unsanctioned species? That would be even worse.

My cybernetic left arm was also covered in the netting, making it match my flesh and blood arm as I swayed through the room.

The place was a knock off of early Earth twentieth century bars, complete with a stage where a curvy woman in a clingy silver dress crooned about a lost love.

A beautiful baby grand piano sat to her left and a string quartet sat behind her.

The room glinted and gleamed, and the white floor was so polished I could see my face in it if I looked down. The walls were draped in silver and black fabrics, the booths and tables a stark black with silver flowers in bowls at the center.

The whole place was a nightmare for surveillance, every surface reflective and security at short intervals along the few hallways and the kitchen. I hadn’t wanted to be here, but there wasn’t a choice.

I’d been hunting for Cypher nonstop since I left Jax a month ago, hitting one dead end after another until I finally got lucky last week.

An informant of mine told me that there was an uproar at the GIB in the last few days.

A hacker no one had ever heard of had acquired the identities of some deep cover agents.

Every low life, pirate, cartel member and government that the Galactic Union of Planets had pissed off would be salivating for the info. Including Cypher.

I had good intel that he was aggressively hunting for the data stick with the list. If I got my hands on it before he did, I could set a trap for him. Problem was, the hacker had already offloaded the data stick to someone who hadn’t been inclined to sell.

Until now.

After paying a hefty sum, and torturing more than a few lowlifes, I’d gotten the name of the person who would be selling the data stick tonight at this bar.

He was a Valtoshan male by the name of Rixam.

Earlier today, I’d tried to steal it from the hotel where he was staying, but I’d almost gotten caught.

A few hours’ worth of research had told me his proclivities: expensive booze and clothing, and Human women, the bustier the better.

My boobs weren’t spectacular, but put them in the right kind of dress and they weren’t half bad.

Hence the clingy red dress I wore in a sea of gray, black and white.

The padded cups in the dress gave me a bit more lift than usual and showed my curves to stunning effect.

It didn’t take long for me to spot my mark, thank the gods.

He was on the older side, with gold rings on his tendrils, a distinct scar on his face and looked to be a few drinks in as he sat at the bar.

All I had to do was catch his eye and get a little up close and personal so I could steal the data stick before he sold it.

My black heels clicked on the floor, and I was grateful for the spaghetti straps and cool silk of the gown considering how warm it was in here.

The singer on the stage started another song, this one more upbeat and couples started to gather on the dance floor, giving me a little bit of cover as I wove through the gathering crowd.

I passed a table of Magrims, bulbous orange aliens that had sprouts of yellow hair-like substances on their heads and beady eyes that made my skin crawl.

They were a misogynist society, locking their women away in breeding colonies and subjugating nearby planets.

I heard their snorting, wet breathing pick up as I passed by and I pretended not to notice them.

I’d had dealings with Magrims before and it always ended the same: with a bunch of dead ones surrounding me after I’d stopped them from assaulting me.

The only time they were of any use to me was when I needed good intel on smugglers in the gamma quadrant of the outer rim. Their skin was thin and they weren’t exactly known for being courageous, so interrogating them was messy but relatively easy.

Tonight, however, I needed to get in and out without causing a scene, so I tried to give the gross orange blobs a wide berth.

I slid onto a silver and black stool and caught the eye of the Human male bartender. He was tall, lean and broad with light brown hair and deep green eyes that gave me pause. There was something familiar about those eyes…

But then I noticed a slight shimmer on the right side of his face and realized that he was also wearing a mesh netting.

I usually concealed my shimmer with makeup, and it looked like the bartender had the same idea.

His eyes were accented with dark liner and a golden swath of bronzer highlighted his sharp cheekbones.

“What can I get for you?” his voice a raspy lilt.

“I’ll take a Talosian Sunrise please.”

“Don’t get an order for many of those around here,” he said.

“Oh? Am I the only one drinking that tonight then?”

His eyebrows slanted down, his smile tight.

“As it happens, no. That Valtoshan down there ordered one too.”

He gestured to the exact male I needed to speak to.

“Interesting,” I crooned.

“Very,” the bartender murmured.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up at the words, a warning that I usually didn’t ignore. But time was ticking, and I had to do this before the male passed out.

As the bartender made the drink, I casually made my way down to the Valtoshan. He looked up at me through half lidded eyes as I purposely made my heels clack a little louder on the tiled floor.

“Well…hey,” he grinned. “How are ya, beautiful?”

“Curious,” I said, arching my spine just a little so my breasts were forward. “How are we the only ones who like Talosian Sunrises?”

“You like them too?”

“I do,” I said, taking the frosted glass from the bartender.

“Mmmm…” his eyes raked down my body, slow and lascivious.

I was surprised he wasn’t drooling on his shoes.

“You know,” I said, my fingers trailed over the loose collar of his shirt, “I have always wondered something.”

“What’s that?”

“These,” I gestured to this tendrils, “are they…sensitive?”

His grin widened and one clammy hand came to my hand, guiding it to the nearest one.

I knew how sensitive they were, I’d been with plenty of Valtoshans to know that.

So I applied just a little pressure to the end of the one he wanted me to touch, rolling it between my finger and thumb.

He gasped, and from the bulge in his pants I could tell that his cock was starting to extrude.

“Oh, they feel…” I purred at him.

“What?”

“Sensual.”

I took a sip of my drink, making sure to swallow hard enough to make my throat work. His eyes traced the motion and he licked his lips.

The Valtoshan plucked the red flower from his lapel and presented it to me like a favor in a medieval story.

“A pretty bud for a pretty lady.”

“Oh, thank you,” I simpered and made a show of smelling the flower.

Then his hand went to my bare shoulder and slid down to my cleavage, his thick fingers grazed the side of my breast. He leaned in and whispered in my ear.

“I have a hotel not far from here.”

I took the opportunity to lean in closer to him, my fingers sliding into the pocket of his jacket, which hung just a tiny bit lower than the other side indicating that there was something in there.

My fingers clasped the cool metal of a data stick and as I pulled my hand out of his pocket, I gripped his jacket as if I were returning the physical attention.

“And if I went there, would I get to play with your tendrils?”

The tendrils twitched and he hissed a breath through his teeth.

“Yes, absolutely. But I have some business to attend to in half an hour.”

“Well, I don’t know if I can wait,” I pouted.

He glanced around and brought his lips closer to my ear, his breath wet and hot on my skin. I suppressed a sickened shiver as he spoke.

“There’s a few rooms that the owner of the establishment lets us use for…special occasions. They’re through the red door at the back. Just tell them Raxim sent you. I’ll be there, waiting for you.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

He laughed, a nervous, high sound and raised his glass to clink against mine. He downed his, while I miraculously drank about half of the concoction without wincing at the taste.

“See you soon,” he chuckled, stumbling off the stool and up the stairs to the left of the bar that led to the red door at the back.

I left a shiny credit for the bartender, who had disappeared, and slid off the stool. The room tilted for a second before righting itself and I frowned. That shouldn’t have happened.

My implants sent signals to my brain regarding all of my internal functions, as well as external data.

It was like having a stream of information going constantly in my subconscious.

When something was dire, the systems would send an alert and I would become more cognizant of the data.

It wasn’t really like having a voice in my head, an option for my AI I’d sternly declined when I’d received my upgraded unit.

It was more like having a secondary brain working behind the scenes.

Pretty handy for quickly analyzing and absorbing evidence or for assessing the dangers of an atmosphere.

I could even see heat signatures with my optic implant.

This time, however, the internal diagnostics that monitored my body’s health were showing a slightly elevated heart rate and a foreign substance of indeterminate origin in my blood stream.

“Shit,” I murmured.

“That’s putting it mildly,” said a voice behind me.

I turned around, the room tilting again and gripped the edge of the stool to steady myself as I stared into the hardened smile of the bartender.