can manage."
A draft brushed Rory's skin and stirred his hair, then a thick and viscous black liquid oozed from the vent and began to slither over his body.
Within moments a pair of dark shiny pants, not unlike leather, had firmed around his lower half, but his top was left bare.
Boralle frowned. "That's odd."
"They fit well enough?" said Rory.
"No, I meant that no shirt was provided." She twiddled knobs again, but the vent emitted nothing but a sigh.
"Well, I'm sorry. It looks like that's all we can provide for you."
"It'll do me fine, lass. They're excellent braies, don't you think?" Wickedly, Rory grinned at her and turned around, knowing she was looking at the planes and contours of his broad, naked chest.
"Um, yes."
"I like them, and I thank you. Now. We were going out?"
Boralle swallowed once more and dragged her eyes away from his body. He hid his satisfaction and kept his expression calm, in spite of the demons that were dancing within his mind. He really wanted to arouse this woman. She had fire buried in her, he was positive of it.
"All right. Let's take a walk, shall we?"
He followed her from the cabin into a long, dismal, gray corridor, and listened to their feet thudding on the steel lattice beneath them. It seemed endless.
"Are there no windows in this rather dreary ship of yours?" asked Rory, feeling even more claustrophobic in the corridor than he had in Boralle's quarters.
She chuckled. "Oh yes, we have windows. But you have to be in service for several years on the same ship before you get a cabin that has one."
Rory sighed. "This is not the greatest walk I've had," he admitted.
They passed more corridors, equally gray, equally dreary. It was quiet, almost hushed.
"Where is everyone?"
Boralle glanced at the chronometer that was part of her suit. "Right now, most everyone is working. Preparing legal arguments, working on negotiations, researching, writing, filing, meeting with higher ups, kissing ass with higher ups..."
Rory picked up on the bitterness in her tone. "Problems with higher ups, Boralle?"
She snorted. "Only that when you're the youngest and most recent crew member, you get the real shit jobs. I wish I had an IMU for every time I had to make a duplicate datacard of something we've already got twelve duplicates of. Or the times I've had to run and fetch javeine for people who could perfectly well have fetched it for themselves."
"So you're not working now because..."
"Because the mighty powers-that-be have decided to make me the sacrificial goat for the Frallien Olympiad. I'm allowed more off-shift hours now, so that I can practice with the TUNG booth. Got to have bigger and better orgasms, so that I can score bigger and higher numbers and make the CGC look good."
"The CGC?"
"The Central Galactic Court."
Rory raised an inquiring eyebrow as Boralle slowed her march to a stroll and allowed him to casually slip his hand into hers.
"The Central Galactic Court," she began, "was formed several hundred years ago, when Earth Central began seriously exploring, colonizing and interacting with nearby neighbors in our quadrant."
Rory squeezed her hand slightly, indicating his interest.
"It was quickly recognized that some kind of regulation would have to apply to such interactions, otherwise lawlessness and anarchy would run rampant. As indeed it did, for a short but bloody time." She shook her head. "I'm not even going to go into that. It's over, thank God."
She glanced up at Rory. "We needed laws. Laws that were fair, applicable across the board to all species, and that could be easily translated and administered." She stopped before a very small porthole that gave Rory his first glimpse outside the ship into the wonderful universe full of glittering stars and magical worlds.
He stood behind Boralle, looking over her head into infinity, and caught his breath at the beauty of it.
"It was a new frontier, Rory, and it needed order, and some semblance of justice. Not all planets
A draft brushed Rory's skin and stirred his hair, then a thick and viscous black liquid oozed from the vent and began to slither over his body.
Within moments a pair of dark shiny pants, not unlike leather, had firmed around his lower half, but his top was left bare.
Boralle frowned. "That's odd."
"They fit well enough?" said Rory.
"No, I meant that no shirt was provided." She twiddled knobs again, but the vent emitted nothing but a sigh.
"Well, I'm sorry. It looks like that's all we can provide for you."
"It'll do me fine, lass. They're excellent braies, don't you think?" Wickedly, Rory grinned at her and turned around, knowing she was looking at the planes and contours of his broad, naked chest.
"Um, yes."
"I like them, and I thank you. Now. We were going out?"
Boralle swallowed once more and dragged her eyes away from his body. He hid his satisfaction and kept his expression calm, in spite of the demons that were dancing within his mind. He really wanted to arouse this woman. She had fire buried in her, he was positive of it.
"All right. Let's take a walk, shall we?"
He followed her from the cabin into a long, dismal, gray corridor, and listened to their feet thudding on the steel lattice beneath them. It seemed endless.
"Are there no windows in this rather dreary ship of yours?" asked Rory, feeling even more claustrophobic in the corridor than he had in Boralle's quarters.
She chuckled. "Oh yes, we have windows. But you have to be in service for several years on the same ship before you get a cabin that has one."
Rory sighed. "This is not the greatest walk I've had," he admitted.
They passed more corridors, equally gray, equally dreary. It was quiet, almost hushed.
"Where is everyone?"
Boralle glanced at the chronometer that was part of her suit. "Right now, most everyone is working. Preparing legal arguments, working on negotiations, researching, writing, filing, meeting with higher ups, kissing ass with higher ups..."
Rory picked up on the bitterness in her tone. "Problems with higher ups, Boralle?"
She snorted. "Only that when you're the youngest and most recent crew member, you get the real shit jobs. I wish I had an IMU for every time I had to make a duplicate datacard of something we've already got twelve duplicates of. Or the times I've had to run and fetch javeine for people who could perfectly well have fetched it for themselves."
"So you're not working now because..."
"Because the mighty powers-that-be have decided to make me the sacrificial goat for the Frallien Olympiad. I'm allowed more off-shift hours now, so that I can practice with the TUNG booth. Got to have bigger and better orgasms, so that I can score bigger and higher numbers and make the CGC look good."
"The CGC?"
"The Central Galactic Court."
Rory raised an inquiring eyebrow as Boralle slowed her march to a stroll and allowed him to casually slip his hand into hers.
"The Central Galactic Court," she began, "was formed several hundred years ago, when Earth Central began seriously exploring, colonizing and interacting with nearby neighbors in our quadrant."
Rory squeezed her hand slightly, indicating his interest.
"It was quickly recognized that some kind of regulation would have to apply to such interactions, otherwise lawlessness and anarchy would run rampant. As indeed it did, for a short but bloody time." She shook her head. "I'm not even going to go into that. It's over, thank God."
She glanced up at Rory. "We needed laws. Laws that were fair, applicable across the board to all species, and that could be easily translated and administered." She stopped before a very small porthole that gave Rory his first glimpse outside the ship into the wonderful universe full of glittering stars and magical worlds.
He stood behind Boralle, looking over her head into infinity, and caught his breath at the beauty of it.
"It was a new frontier, Rory, and it needed order, and some semblance of justice. Not all planets
Similar Books
