Heartless Alliance (Mr Master and Oreo)

Lya D'vahl



Race: Telkran
Age: 32
Gender: female
Profession/Role: Profiteer
Titles: Faction, Alteran Consortium

Notable Skills/Talents: Shapeshifting, electromagnetic capabilities
Notable Weaknesses/Flaws: Saline/Salt water, disruptor fire, anything that interferes with her electromagnetic field, panic, a specially trained individual might be able to block her mind merging if they so desire.

Notable Possessions: Alteran Freighter class Interceptor - with one chrono-phase canon, chrono-phase pistol. Full supply of illegal trade weapons, shield generators, exotic liquor, computers, wetlinks, holo-grids.
Powers: Can merge with most any mind, (note there are strict laws regarding the melding of minds and thoughts. To do so without consent constitutes rape, a serious offense for a Telkran.

Background: The Telkran are a race of shapeshifters from the Alteran Sector. Their borders cross that of the humans on the outlying regions of their quadrant. Because of their ability to blend in with any environment, they found it quite easy, as a race, to get away with illegal activities. Subsequently they became renown for their Black Market goods. They deal in anything; guns to planet killers, shielding, starships, and even slavery. If there is something in the known galaxy that you want, the Alteran Consortium can deliver it. They are first and foremost profiteers, having no allegiance to anyone but their own Syndicate. They have a self serving code of ethics, and little care for the dilemma of their customers. 'If you have the credits, we will supply.' Lya is somewhat of a rogue character, that tends to get into trouble more often than not. Perhaps a bit over eager for sales she doesn't always think things through to the end result and gets swept along wherever life leads.

~~~

Lya practically absorbed the control panel. Her electrical impulses interfaced directly with the circuits and crystals, constantly adjusting her flight path through the asteroids. There were no actual buttons or switches to manipulate or read, just a flat sponge-like surface allowing her to connect directly with Ship. The symbiotic feeling as he responded to her thoughts was bliss. Ship was but a shell for her form. Sealed inside the control room, she could let go her cohesion. In her natural state she appeared as nothing more than a gaseous cloud, loose particles of energy that flowed and ebbed through the chamber, slightly golden in color, glinting in the starlight. Needing a certain amount of free space to relax, her control room was built to her exact requirements. She and Ship were as one. Lya could even feel the absolute cold of his hull as if it were her skin. They were two minds joined in a single purpose...flight.

Wondering why the Hunters even bothered their pursuit, Lya couldn't remember the last time a Telkran interceptor had been captured. Her ship was created for speed and as soon as she got clear of the asteroids and activated her cloaking device, she'd be free. The next instant, she lost control as a photon burst, blasted against her hull. Careening wildly at the searing pain, it took a moment before she regained control. That was not a smart thing to do, she chided them. Normally she liked to toy with Imperials for the fun of it, but this just got her angry. She swept into a loop around the next large asteroid heading straight back for the Hunter. Firing her chrono-phase cannon at point blank range, while swiftly banking to the right, she shimmered in pleasure, her electrons dancing erotically at the gaping hole she left in it's hull. The particles had been dispersed along the space-time continuum as so many random bits of metal and flesh. The Imperial ship slowly tumbled into an oncoming asteroid with a satisfying plasma burst, and was no more.

She and her race were renowned for their ability to procure and deliver anything you might want, need...or desire. Although Telkrans did reserve the newest and best technology for themselves. Their ships were the finest in the sector and their illegal activities were virtually unstoppable. Having the technological edge took some of the fun out of running, but she could live with that. She had no death wish, but adrenaline and endorphins were the spice of life. To use them naturally was the thrill. She hated the sloths that just bought the stuff, Endo-heads, she cursed. In her thirty two years she had never understood them. They didn't deserve to call themselves Telkrans.

Now, where to go? She had a hull full of weapons, and contraband, with no place to unload them. Sensing the star map, she saw that she had run straight into the Terran Sector. It was primitive, but perhaps she could have some fun and dump some of her cargo. She also needed to tend that photon burn on her wing. She really shouldn't run without her shields, but were was the fun in that?

There! Daltron Delta 7 seemed to have a well established colony. With her subspace warp field engaged she made the almost instantaneous jump and was soon streaming through the atmosphere of the remote planet. With luck, she might be the first Telkran to have contacts here. Thoughts of profit had her eager to land, when she caught sight of a downed ship. Scanners showed no life forms aboard, free salvage. This was her lucky day. As she scanned outward toward the city, she spotted a lone male heading away from the ship. Good she had time to peruse at her leisure. If he didn't care enough to guard his vessel, she wasn't above absconding with a few things.

She settled her ship next to his and turned on her cloaking device. A rough scan gave her a good idea of the species here and she adjusted her form to humanoid. Her long black hair flowed to the small of her back. Her eyes were so dark they appeared black. Her otherwise perfect, dark skin was bare with the exception of various, decorative, tribal tattoos trailing along her arms, sides, rounded hips, and continuing down her long legs.

Gravity lift in one hand and chrono-pistol in the other she headed to see what could be salvaged from the wrecked ship. As she looked over the vessel, she was disgusted. There was almost nothing worth taking, except perhaps the starjump-drive. A quick scan of his computer revealed much. The jump-drive appeared disabled, but the unit itself was functional. Just the impulse booster was damaged. Her dark eyes twinkled with thoughts of profit. It might take the better part of the day to get it disassembled, but it would be well worth it. After looking over the schematics, she set to work. Her hands morphing into whatever tool was required to remove the nuts and bolts that held it in place. Several hours later she was easing the drive into her own ships cargo hold. Now to find the local space port.

Well, at least the space port was obvious. She brought her ship to a hover on the outer edge of the port. After the few moments it took Ship to translate the locale language, Lya contacted the port authority, "Daltron Delta 7 spaceport, this is Lya D'Vahl of the Alteran Consortium, starship 'Profiteer', freighter class interceptor. May I have permission to dock?" There was a buzz and slight shock as she adjusted the frequency.

"Profiteer, permission to land in red sector, docking berth thirty two. Your species is unidentified. Prepare for inspection before exiting your craft. All items deemed contraband by the port authority will be seized. Failure to comply will result in confiscation of your vessel."

"What the hell? Crank it out your space shaft! I'll blow you to Deveron, before I let you touch my cargo." She turned the Profiteer to flee, when they had the nerve to shoot at her. This was not a good first impression. "Oh, frag it all." Flinging up her shields she streaked away from the station. It wasn't like they could cause her damage, but, really, all she wanted to do was leave. They didn't have to shoot at her. Stupid humanoids. If they were all like this, it wasn't likely she would be selling her goods here. Too bad for them, from the looks of their ion cannons, they could have used a Plasma upgrade. As she shot out of the atmosphere she cloaked her ship, and settled into a low orbit. If she couldn't do business planet-side, maybe she could flag some passing ships, or find a way onto the space station.

Dizzik "Dizzy" LaFontaine



Race: Human
Age: 35
Gender: male
Profession/Role: qualified Ship's Master, alternately itinerant spacer
Titles: none

Notable Skills/Talents: unconfirmed psychokinetic capabilities
Notable Weaknesses/Flaws: loves not wisely, but too well, i.e. all his major betrayals and the greater proportion of complications in his life have been at the hands of women he cared about. Otherwise, has similar weaknesses and flaws to any other human, most noteably his intense stubborn streak.

Notable Possessions: After the crash of his Yutani-Immelfarb TX5010 light freighter/explorer, very little. Vacc Suit, spacer's "chest." Phased laser pistol, mag-grapple pistol, tachyonic tracker. Personal computer array.
Powers: can exert force without physical contact; exact dimensions and capabilities of power have not been formally rated by an outside authority.

Background: Dizzy was born in an orbital station, and views time spent on a planet as "exotic." Has grown up dealing with occasional microgravity, and has always thought in 3D; it's possible this mental adaptation helped enable his telekinesis. The Terran Sector Federated Alliance has a secret faction that brings known psionic practitioners under its control, and Dizzy was determined to remain independent. So far, he has been successful. His interests range widely, from archaeology to zero-gravity manufacturing. If he were able to settle down in one place for any real length of time, he could establish himself as a polymath and talented jack-of-all-trades, but his avoidance of the Feds has kept him mobile.

~~~

He'd come out of the jump with half his systems blown, and the other half wildly malfunctioning. It was a miracle he'd made it to the habitable planet of Daltron Delta 7, much less almost to the colony. Once he woke up after plowing into the ground, he had his array do a systems check on what was left. There wasn't much, but his payload was still hidden. He couldn't even set up a guard perimeter, or a signal beacon, much as he wanted to. There was nothing to do but collect up the last of his credits and hike on in to the colony and see what he could arrange as salvage.

It was a good plan, too, until he came back in a rented grav skiff to find someone had lifted his starjump-drive. He stared at the space where it used to be, running a hand across the top of his head, rubbing his short brown hair. Clearly, someone had been here. There weren't tracks, so that meant something airborne. Which meant port authority would likely have some sort of record. But that meant bribery, and he was short on funds. Well, that was nothing new, either. He sighed, and looked over the rest of his erstwhile vessel.

"All right. Array," he said, accessing his computer system's voice command subroutine. "Update the records of the ship to reflect the stolen jump drive and post on the local datanet as salvage for sale. Include full evaluation details, specify as-is and inability to transport. Notify me of the best offers to come in within the next day." He shut down the link and scowled at the empty engineering bay. Of all the places to hide his payload, he thought the extra space within the jump drive casing would be safe. After all, the drive was too large to be easily moved, and despite its value, a thief would have trouble getting it free and taking it away, right?

Apparently not.

His array bleeped, and he hit the response button. "Query: do you wish to post an inquiry about the missing jump drive, with intermittent tachyon leakage from the exotic matter containment field?"

Dizzy was about to make a snide remark which would have been lost on the computer when he realized: he'd been dealing with that tachyon leak for weeks, now, and he could almost repeat the pattern of leakage in his sleep, a regular burst every time the exotic matter "spun" around the right way. It was entirely harmless, more of a simple annoyance on ship's sensors, particularly older ones like his had been (newer ones were more likely to account for the variance and filter it out), but it was regular enough that he could theoretically track it, if he could rig up a tachyon detector. Unfortunately, most everything he could use on the ship was fried.

"No, don't make a post. Just offer the salvage on what we have left. And I want you to put a query out into the colony's net for the following parts..."

~~~

"Quite frankly, sir, it's not your concern what I intend to do when I leave the ship," Dizzy told the tugboat captain. "I have my own reasons."

"I'm not going to let an unprotected man just drift around in orbit," the captain said patiently. "What are you gonna do, circle the planet until you either run out of air or your orbit decays or you hit something?"

Dizzy checked the readout on his cobbled-together tachyon tracker. It indicated they were in the right orbital plane, but there was nothing on the tugboat's sensors in the direction the tracker indicated. Which, to Dizzy, indicated some kind of sensor cloak, but not everybody believed such a thing was possible. Still, there were lots of things Dizzy dealt with that people didn't think were possible, so he didn't pay the deniers much attention.

"I'll tell you what. How about I give you an extra hundred credits, and you stay tuned to my suit frequency. And if I haven't found what I'm looking for in, say, three hours? I'll be at the limit of my suit's air regen capacity, so I call you, and you come and pick me up. How's that?"

The captain looked doubtful, but Dizzy knew he was on the right track when he said "A hundred wouldn't cover my fuel costs..."

~~~

So it was that Dizzy kicked off out of the tugboat airlock in his vacc suit with all his worldly possessions strapped to his back, holding only a standard mag-grapple pistol in one hand and his tachyon tracker in the other. "Goddamnit, Dizzy," he muttered to himself, "I hope you're right." The port authority had sold him the records of the ship that landed near his, then approached the colony and taken off after being challenged. They hadn't read the energy signature of a standard departure, but the ship had dropped off of sensors abruptly. Between that and the still-present tachyon signature, Dizzy was sure his thief was sitting pretty in a cloaked ship of some kind. Though why someone with that level of technology would bother with his jump drive didn't make much sense to him; weren't higher-tech people usually charging around with things to do and places to be?

Still, he wasn't in a position to judge; he'd used his technical savvy to essentially come up with an excuse to jump out of an airlock in the vain hope there was something he couldn't see to interrupt his freefall. He used his suit's attitude jets to keep him on the course his tracker said he should be on, and kept expecting to run face-first into something unseen.

Lya managed to calm down, but only after Ship began reasoning with her. "They are lower forms of life. You cannot expect them to act in a rational manner. They did not damage us more than we are able to repair. The sunlight here is ample for me to restore our wing. Relax and let your particles drift. I will wake you if there is a need. I am always aware of you."

For some reason his deep voice was capable of bringing her back to reality. She had specifically picked a male ship. They were typically sturdier and less inclined to histrionics. Lya got along well with him. After their last six years together, it was safe to say, he knew her better than most of her Telkran friends did. She took him at his word. Most of the time he left her alone, but for now he was right. "Keep your sensors on anything I might find of interest around the orbital space station, or entering the system. Oh and I'm interested in anything to do with that salvage vessel. If the owner returns keep a record of his transmissions." A spark of pleasure lit the black depths of her eyes before her humanoid shell dispersed. Perhaps I can sell him his own jump drive.

At her command, Ship turned his wing to the sun allowing the energy from the electromagnetic radiation to flood the wounded area. Within moments Lya's loose floating particles lost their glimmer, their agitated swirling ceased, to lay suspended and inactive. Everything in the control room was deathly still, but Ship was alert. Slowly the wing began to smooth over and fill in as energy was converted to matter.

Suspended in the absolute cold of space, it seemed she had been inert for mere minutes when Ship woke her. A gentle pulse through the control panel and she was stirring. "What is it?"

"An unidentified ship has approached our orbit. Their course led directly here Lya. Do you want me to establish a communications link with them?"

"Show me, Ship." Perhaps it was someone with whom she could do business. The thought lifted her spirits a bit. Her only concern was how had he tracked her? There was no way their technology was advanced enough to penetrate her cloak. "I want to see them before I open a hail, and remained cloaked, they might just be guessing I'm here." Yeah, fat chance of that Lya. "Were there any transmissions from the scavenged ship?"

"Only that it was being offered for sale as salvage. If there was something of value, you would have taken it earlier. I saw no need to wake you."

"Braelacks Mother! I was really hoping he'd want to buy it back." Her particles swirled lazily around the control room as ship turned the view port toward the alien vessel. Freezing for a moment before sparking to life, "What the hell kind of maneuver is that?" Someone had launched themself toward her vessel. Lya almost couldn't believe her senses. All she had to do was slowly change position and they'd fly right past her. Curiosity stroked her in sweet pleasure; instead of moving out of his trajectory she aligned her port hatch to receive him.

Tiny golden flecks of light drifted to the center of the room, merging into the humanoid form she had taken earlier. Her rich tanned skin seemed to ripple as she stepped toward the exit panel. Bare feet crossed the durafoam coated floor of her ship as she made her way to the airlock. There hadn't been time earlier in the day to notice, but this shape felt almost sensual as she moved. The rotation of her hips, and her legs brushing each other, almost distracted her. It bore no resemblance to the jerky movements of many races, like the bugs. She didn't care for assuming that form, but sometimes it was necessary. But this, was pleasurable.

For the moment she remained unarmed. It wasn't likely that they could hurt her anyway. Unless they had a disruptor...they wouldn't go to all this trouble as a ruse to get aboard her ship and try to kill her? Steal her cargo? Would they? Lya's hand diffused into a glimmering golden haze as it stretched toward the air lock mechanism. Merging with the small gray circle, slightly different in texture from the rest of the wall, she commanded, "Ship, released the force shield to the outer hull of docking hatch two, and initiate Deadman 30, authorized Lya sigma three, initiate now." Whoever they were they weren't getting their hands on her cargo. Especially her planet buster, the regs on that were strict enough to get her defragmented.

Stepping into the air lock, she sealed it behind herself and opened the outer hatch manually. Calmly Lya watched as the cloak shimmered and her 'guest' drifted into the airlock. Completely at ease in the void of space she turned to look at the suited human while simultaneously sealing the hatch. "I would have answered a hail. Are you here for business or pleasure?"

He was drifting through orbit, eye on the tachyon tracker, which kept telling him his stolen jump drive was RIGHT THERE, in empty space, when all of a sudden, bam, no warning, he was in a chamber, what looked like an airlock. The instant transition was like teleportation, and it was instantly disorienting. Then his heels hit the deck, and he pitched forward. The airlock was stationary to his relative forward drift, and it had an internal pseudo-gravity of reasonably close to a standard G. End result? He hit hard on his feet and fell to his armored kneepads, almost cracking his faceplate on the deck before he caught himself with his hands, risking shattering his mag-grapple and his tracker. Not that, apparently, he needed the tracker anymore; this was clearly the place.

The instant his brain reoriented itself (which it can do remarkably quickly when pain is involved, and hitting the deck was indeed painful), he noticed he had company. Not just any company, either; he twisted and half-straightened from his bent-over position to take her in. Which also let him see the open outer airlock door. Naked... woman... in space... is what his brain kept telling him. Her beauty, her tattoos, all that was secondary in his initial reaction to the mere fact of her standing calmly by an open airlock door of an orbiting ship. This was so much like one of his recurring dreams, it was insane. Now if she turned into his mother and tried to make him visit the school-pod naked, the re-enactment would be complete.

The hatch slid closed behind him at her touch on the panel. His suit telltales climbed into the green, showing air pressure was returning, and it was a breathable mix. As soon as the air was thick enough to carry sound, his external suit pick-ups automatically turned on, and so he heard her mellifluous voice. "I would have answered a hail. Are you here for business or pleasure?" Now it was turning into another one of his recurring dreams... but he shoved that one out of his mind before his body had any distracting reactions.

As he slowly climbed to his feet, he muttered without moving his lips too much: "Array. Make a full spectrum recording, every sensor. Passive only. And check if radio signals are being blocked. Activate external speakers." He could have tongue-toggled the speakers, but that always looked undignified through the faceplate, and he wanted to make a good impression.

Straightening up, he slowly clipped his mag-grapple to his belt while he looked the strange woman in the eye. Her eyes were dark and fascinating, but again, he couldn't afford to be distracted. "I apologize, I couldn't be sure there was actually anyone here. You have done a good job of appearing to be empty space."

He looked around. "I think I'm here for business, but since I don't even know what exactly 'here' is, I'm trying to stay flexible."

His instincts told him to leave it at that; he was in a totally new situation, and he didn't know the rules, so it was better for him to shut up and try and observe everything he could. Let her make the next move, and try and figure out how to play off of that.

Well there was no denying he certainly appeared awkward. But, then again, she had no idea what it felt like to burst into a gravitational field the size of a large crate. Her richly tanned skin seemed to ripple as she stepped closer to look at him.

"I apologize, I couldn't be sure there was actually anyone here. You have done a good job of appearing to be empty space." He seemed more formidable as he stood, as if he had regained his presence. He did not appear aggressive, and her hand withdrew from the control panel.

"It would be foolish to remain uncloaked after the reception I received below. For the sake of profit I am going to assume the attack was military. Throughout the galaxy they seem to lack proper cognitive abilities. Shoot first ...reason later. Bad for business." It was about this point that she realized he had just been guessing that she was here. Just as quickly the thought was shunted to the edges of her mind as he spoke again.

"I think I'm here for business, but since I don't even know what exactly 'here' is, I'm trying to stay flexible."

A surge of pleasure struck her, and for a brief moment her body flickered, a golden sheen. Cohesion loosened, then she reined it back. This was more like what she had expected planet-side. Her sultry voice resonated in the enclosed space of the airlock. Lya didn't want to mess this up. She met his eyes with an earnest look from the black depths of her own. "I am Lya D''vahl, of the Alterran Consortium. I am here to barter, but I don't take kindly to threats; like the one I just received from the planet below." She continued to close the distance between them as she spoke. Each step graceful, fluid. "I pose no threat to you. I am but a simple trader of weapons and other sundry items." A smile eased across her face, as her brow arched. "Can I interest you in a jump drive, or perhaps multiphasic shielding?"

After looking over his gear, her gaze halted at his weapon. "No harm shall come to you within my vessel, but I cannot permit you to enter with your weapon. If you wish egress to look over my merchandise, I must ask that you disarm yourself. There is only myself and Ship. I am non violent by nature." Well except for Imperials...and Reticulans, but she had her reasons for that. "Else I would have fired on the station below." Her palm hovered over the control for the inner hatch, a questioning look in her eyes.

The inconstancy of her appearance set off alarm bells in his brain right away; combined with the endurance of hard vacuum, it made him think she might be some kind of ultra-real hologram, an Artificial, or some kind of shape-shifter. He'd heard of chameleon suits, as well as alien beings who could take on the appearance of humans; he'd even heard distant old spacer's tales of infinitely protean beings who could take on any form they wished. Pure nonsense, of course, but there was something amiss with this woman and her flickery skin.

"It would be foolish to remain uncloaked after the reception I received below. For the sake of profit I am going to assume the attack was military. Throughout the galaxy they seem to lack proper cognitive abilities. Shoot first ...reason later. Bad for business." He nodded; she was right, it was out of character for a spaceport to fire on a ship without provocation. They usually only did that to attackers, or smugglers or thieves who turned tail when challenged. From the reports he'd bought, he recalled they'd fired a warning shot, but their sensors hadn't registered a hit. Maybe she didn't realize how her reactions had seemed to the port authority. Ah, well, it wasn't his problem.

She gazed into his eyes and he felt like he was falling into those dark orbs. "I am Lya D''vahl, of the Alterran Consortium. I am here to barter, but I don't take kindly to threats; like the one I just received from the planet below." She stepped forward toward him, and although he was appreciating the better view, she made him twelve different kinds of nervous, so he found himself involuntarily stepping back, hesitantly.

"I pose no threat to you. I am but a simple trader of weapons and other sundry items. Can I interest you in a jump drive, or perhaps multiphasic shielding?" He froze and looked at her, his mouth just slightly agape. She wasn't actually trying to sell him back his own jump-drive, was she? Surely that was a coincidence. If it wasn't... his appreciation of her moxie was growing by the minute, even as his caution about who or what she was also grew. He saw her looking down at his gear.

"No harm shall come to you within my vessel, but I cannot permit you to enter with your weapon. If you wish entrance to look over my merchandise, I must ask that you disarm yourself. There is only myself and Ship. I am non violent by nature."

He looked at his tachyon scanner, confused, but then realized she was talking about his holstered phasegun. "Oh, this? I only carry it because some of these fringe colonies are a little rough and tumble. Plus there's pirates, slavers, shipjackers, thieves that would strip a downed ship before the owner even got back with repair parts..." That last was delivered with a casual tone, but the words were not accidental. "I'm surprised you feel threatened by it, given your own capabilities." He changed the tracker to his other hand, drew the pistol, and popped out its power cell. He flicked the self-test cycle, which discharged the capacitors with an audible zap. Then he looked at her, arching an eyebrow. "Is there a lockbox or something to keep my stuff secure?"

It's not that he didn't trust her, except that he didn't. The whole reason he was here was because she'd stolen his jump-drive, so he didn't think he was being entirely unreasonable.

Her smile widened as he stepped away from her. So he has some fear...this is good Lya. Common sense is always beneficial. At least she knew he had the power of reasoning. Any good trader could work with that. Watching intently as he removed the power cell from his pistol, her mind barely registered his last words about stripping a downed ship. How ironic if this was the fellow from the vessel on the surface. Surely he wouldn't go to this much trouble for a used jump drive. They weren't that expensive of an item. It would probably cost him less to replace it planet side that the cost of coming here to purchase it. How had he managed to track her? If he was the fellow from the planet, how would he possibly know it was you, anyway, Lya?

"Wouldn't you feel threatened if I had a weapon?" She looked down at herself, "I am completely defenseless. I simply seek to deter any chance that you might try to damage my ship, merchandise or steal what is rightfully mine." Her eyes fell to his hands as her own began reaching for the power unit. "It will be sufficient if you allow me to hold the power cell." Her form flickered again as he discharged the weapon, eyes narrowing in anger. Had he done that deliberately to frighten her? Her fingers extended toward the power-cell, dispersed in a soft glow, and his power unit was assimilated into her form for safe keeping. "I will return it when you leave. You may retain possession of your weapon."

As she opened the inner hatch, she decided there was no harm in making her position clear. If he was the man from the ship below..."I am no thief. I know the laws of salvage. Any abandoned vessel with over fifty percent damage is legal salvage. I always scan a vessel before taking any unguarded merchandise. If it was of value a person would stay and watch over their ship. Only a fool would leave one unattended." Her pleasure fluctuated with the thought that he was worried about securing his weapon, but would be willing to leave an entire ship unprotected. If ...he were the man. One way to find out.

"If this is about the wreck I found planet-side, I could have claimed the entire ship had I chosen, but it was of little value to me. Surely you know the rules? Salvage laws are standard in every known quadrant." She sauntered forward till she was but inches away from him. Staring him straight in the eyes, with a slight taunting lilt to her voice. "I only took the jump drive." She fairly purred the words, her black eyes doing their best to look innocent. "Come, I have merchandise that will make a jump drive seem trivial."

Once inside the vessel her eyes drifted over him, "If it is cumbersome you may leave your space suit, here." Lya indicated a protuberance from the rounded wall. The entire inner structure of the vessel was without angles. The surface, a light photoluminescent lavender, blending into a black non-conductive flooring. The outer hull was manufactured, but everything inside was part of Ship, bio-engineered. A weapon discharged in here would certainly damage Ship, if not her. There was no reason at present to let her client in on that bit of information.

Deadman thirty at fifteen and counting. Ships masculine voice filled the space between the control room and the cargo hold. Lya had the man's power cell, there was no further danger. "Suspend the count, Ship. We are in no peril at present."

Turning her attention back to her guest, "Now, what was it you came all the way out here, risking a flight to nowhere, to see me about Mr....?"

His eyes caught the flicker once again with the zap of the self-test diagnostic releasing the capacitor charge; the sound must have startled her. Then it was his turn to be startled when she seemed to... dissolve, somehow, and take his power cell away and into her own hand, somehow inside the very skin. He blinked at her as she said "I will return it when you leave. You may retain possession of your weapon."

"Thank you," he responded, holstering the pistol. "And with abilities like that, I doubt you need a weapon as much as I doubt you're actually defenseless." That was okay, though; he had some hidden capabilities himself, but there was no need to draw attention to them. The more aces he had up his sleeve, the better.

He listened to her speech about salvage rights, and nodded, but held his tongue. He didn't take her offer of removing his vacc suit, and indeed, tongued off his outside speakers so he could replay some recordings on his helmet heads-up display while he listened to her justify her actions. He raised an eyebrow when she addressed her ship AI array and told it to cease the deadman protocol, whatever it was. A wise precaution, one he himself might have taken in her position, though he more likely would have avoided her first pass through his cloaked space, just to see what she'd do then. Finally she asked, "Now, what was it you came all the way out here, risking a flight to nowhere, to see me about Mr....?"

Dizzy's mind flashed to the ancient novel he'd just been reading, during the crash and during all the down-time he'd had in between. He'd just read the part where a nome de plume was required, and what would this woman know about old Terran literature? "Underhill," he said, "Frodo Underhill."

"And yes, let's get right to it. You're right about the laws of salvage. Fifty percent damaged, no beacon or local net notice or guard. Doesn't matter that I was alone in the ship, and the crash fried every operable piece of electronic equipment attached to the hull that wasn't shielded by the jump-drive casing. So, you know, a beacon was impossible, a guard was impossible, contacting the colony datanet was impossible. What was I gonna do, leave a note? The crash was far enough away, the colony retrieval team wouldn't have gotten to me for at least a week, possibly two, and my automat was out with everything else. So I had no provisions, and you might notice Daltron Delta 7 has atmosphere, but the biosphere is still native; nothing I could eat. So I had to hike ten hours up to the top of the nearest mountain just to get line of sight for my wimpy little personal array to contact the colony's geosat and call for a pick-up and register the downed ship. And that, actually, is kind of the crux of the matter."

"Yes, you're right, what qualifies as salvage is the same or similar in sectors across the galaxy. But the Terran Sector Federated Alliance has this thing about record-keeping. It's just about pathological, I can tell you that. What you didn't do is log your salvage with the local authority before taking possession, and that means my crash report remains the first citation on the record. In fact, the first record the local authority has of you is your requesting docking permission, and then fleeing when informed of standard inspection protocols. Array, make those records available to the local ship, would you please?" He'd already instructed the array to offer whatever intrusion resistance it could, though, judging by the extent of the technology, that probably wouldn't amount to much. Still, he had to offer the token resistance.

"Legally, that jump-drive is still mine, and any Fed court would back me on it. Even if you had a salvage claim, the courts would most likely look favorably on the extremity of my circumstances, in the specifics of the crash, and that's not even counting the suspicious actions you took coming up to the spaceport." He paused, but continued before she could say a word. "But wait, you say! How could I possibly know the jump drive was here? How could I possibly have determined that the jump-drive I flew with for a year, with the leaky shielding in the exotic matter containment that released a regular, repeatable pattern of tachyon bursts, a pattern well-documented in the ship's repair logs, for identification purposes... how could I have possibly ever known that was here?" Tachyons, like neutrinos, were nearly impossible to stop or mask once released from whatever generated them, and they were utterly harmless on their own, so it didn't matter, but in this particular instance, they caused an issue, as Dizzy hefted his tachyon tracker, letting her get a good look at its standard parts, enough so she could figure out what it most likely did.

"I have a timed hardfile back at the colony. If I don't check in appropriately, it'll get downloaded to the law enforcement net, with details on the jump-drive flaw and my theories on the theft. The tugboat captain who let me off up here kept his sensors on me, at my request, so he saw me vanish. If you're still here, you'll be floating around with a tachyonic beacon saying 'here's the stolen goods! come get me!' I'm not saying you couldn't run or fight, probably do a lot of damage, but that'd be a whole sector of suckers and customers you would lose access to." He looked her in the eye. "You're probably revising your opinion on whether or not you mean me any harm, at this point."

"Before you do something drastic, let me just say, you can have the drive. I have no use for it; if I had a ship to fit it in, I'd have flown that up here instead of kicking around in this suit. So I'll sell it to you, cheap. You can probably just barter something you've got lying around, the high tech equivalent of Mardi Gras beads, but it'll still be higher tech than we've got here. Whatever price we fix on, I want to take a look at my property first." That was the crux of the matter, but he kept his poker face calm. He couldn't tell right away if she was at all concerned about any of his (mostly) factual recitation, but he knew he had to deal from as much of a position of strength as he could manage, because she held cards he didn't even know existed, and this was her table.

On and on he went explaining each little sore spot of his day. Like he was the only person in the galaxy with problems. Was he attempting to garner sympathy? Lya knew races that tried the tactic, but the only thing that concerned Lya...was Lya. Her day had been no A class paradise either. That was the way of the universe; Luck and the Great Scales. Sooner or later everything balanced. Except for those few individuals that seemed to wallow in muck like a Dilbian slime worm, bad fortune following them at every turn. Lya tried several times to intervene his little tirade, but in the end just let him continue until he ran out of steam. As his last statement fell like a demand she simply smiled. Perhaps he would be more reasonable after venting his anger. It worked for her, and if it brought her closer to making a deal with him, all the better.

"My, how you do go on, Mr. Underhill. Or is it Frodo? Odd name. Do you know that on Vendar 6 that's something someone's mother...well, that's beside the point. No sense starting off on the wrong foot, is there? It sounds like you're not having too good a day either, Frodo." Lya tried to not snicker, but the image his name kept producing, held an element of pleasure she was finding difficult to contain. "My day has been less than desirable, too. Ever been chased across two sectors and into a high-inclination group in the inner part of the main belt of an asteroid field by Imperial androids intent on annihilating your species? Hmmmm? I can't return home until I dump my cargo. Now I'm stuck in this waste hole of a quadrant, dickering with a hapless human over an apparently worthless jump drive."

"My cargo is my own. The spaceport officials had no right to say they would confiscate what is legally mine." Her anger was re-surging at their presumption. "They could have just allowed me to leave. If not for my good nature you would never have gotten the information you received from them. Because all I would have left was a gaping hole where your precious Daltron Delta 7 spaceport used to be. As for them coming after me, all I have to do is jettison that jump drive, and blow it straight to the last remnant of the big bang. In fact at the moment that is beginning to sound like the best solution to the whole problem. I've been shot at enough for one day, thank you very much. I'm sure with the proper alignment we can shove you out the airlock on a direct course back to that ship you came from. Though I'll be sure to stick around long enough to make sure you're safely back aboard. I wouldn't want to be known across the sector as the person who abandoned poor Mr. Underhill!"

Lya leaned in toward him, "On the other hand, this could become a very...lucrative day for the both of us. I need a way to sell my merchandise, a middle man if you will. Your jump drive means nothing to me. We could both come out of this travesty with..."

Lya we have received an encrypted message, playing back now. "This is Jediah Erhart, Captain of the Federated Alliance battlecruiser 'Heracles'. You are receiving this message on a two-way encrypted private channel. My ship's sensors have detected your cloaked vessel. You have five minutes to respond to this hail or you will be fired upon."

"Frodo, do you have anything to do with this? If they're sensing me because you gave them the information, I'll dump you and your tachyon leaking jump drive out the airlock and let your own people blow you to subatomic particles. If not, I'm getting the hell out of their firing range. Not that they could substantially harm me, but I hate being shot at!"

Dizzy raised an eyebrow when she started to discuss her bad day. Was she really just taking from his illustration of the various points on which he legally had claim to the drive as some kind of grousing, some kind of sympathy play? He was laying out his case that he could take to the Fed courts (not that he intended to, but she didn't know that) just to try and score five minutes alone with the drive so he could retrieve his property hidden within. He had though the appeal to her greed in accessing the Terran Sector market would have made that clear. The last thing he would try to do is play on her human compassion, since he was convinced she wasn't human. Her description of her own troubles didn't smooth his concerns at all, either.

When she leaned toward him, he took a step back again, and felt like raising the tachyon tracker, if only to put one more thing between himself and this crazy alien... he almost thought "chick," but as far as he knew, that was as much a facade as the rest of her. And then the battlecruiser message came through, and he thought she might grow claws and rip his face off.

"If I had pull with a Fed battlewagon, you think I'd have had to bribe my way into all this data and jump myself out an airlock to try and find you? I've told nobody anything; I was trying to present my legal case to you in the hopes we could settle up out of court. If you'd calm down, you'd realize they probably did a standard sweep of the area, found a cloaked blip where nobody ought to be, and now he's giving you a hail to see what you're up to."

"If you talk to him, he probably just wants to know who the hell you are and why you're just lurking around up here all invisible-like. This is a border colony; they never know when a psychopath alien might be wanting to, say, leave a gaping hole where our precious Daltron Delta 7 spaceport used to be." He couldn't keep the tone of sarcasm out of his voice there at the end. "Don't you ever, you know, try to talk your way out of things? Or are there just the two settings on the 'fight or flight' dial for you?"

Lya stood there for a minute simply staring at him, trying to decide whether to fight or flight as he so quaintly phrased it. Profit won out. As her mind sorted all the available data, his words finally made sense to her. "you think I'd have had to bribe my way into all this data and jump myself out an airlock to try and find you? I've told nobody anything"...nobody goes to that kind of trouble for a jump drive. He was here for something else, but that could wait until after she took care of this Federated Alliance fellow.

"I apparently don't have time to deal with you at the moment. Just in case they open fire you'll be safer in the control room. If I have to move Ship, the inertial dampeners in this section..." She looked him up and down once, "would be less than sufficient for your structure." With a bit of a growl Lya turned on her heel and made her way to the control room.

Lya had been so worked up for her deal with Frodo, she was unprepared for this. "Darmet's Mother, a Federated Battlecruiser!" Think fast Lya, there's no time. She jumped on the holo-pad just a step away from the control panel. "Ship, link me to this Captain Jediah's bridge, Now!" A second later she appeared in the command center of the Herecles with not a moment to spare. She was pretty sure her ship could take any blasts from the battlecruiser. What had her in turmoil was the opportunity that just fell into her hands. The jump drive was hardly worth the effort compared to this. Jediah Erhart might just need what she had to offer. He was a military man, and one thing they all wanted was the biggest and best gun. Grinning inwardly...Lya D'vahl had the best weapons this side of the quadrant.

Long bare legs slowly turned her around, until her eyes finally fell on an impressive looking male, in a huge chair. It appeared to be a command center. The first thing she noticed, beside his annoyed attitude, was the organic coverings draped on his form. Another silly custom, common to humanoids, this obsession with skin coverings. It was annoying, and just another irritating task for her. Should she stay as she was to keep him off balance? Best not. Her torso was soon covered in a sleek black garment, that stopped mid-thigh, albeit seemed a shame to cover her lovely tattoos. Though being clothed or not, made little difference to her, Lya's face poked out of the holo field, "You could have told me your species prefers organic coverings, Frodo."

Leaning back into the field, "Captain Erhart, I presume?" Her husky voice resonated around the room. She didn't want to mess this up. She met his brown eyes, with an earnest look from the black depths of her own. "I am Lya D''vahl, of the Alterran Consortium, responding to your hail. While you're free to attempt blowing my ship out of Gendon Delta 7 space, you are not likely to succeed. I am here to trade, but I don't take kindly to being shot." She continued with the standard Telkran greeting, as she sauntered toward him. "I pose no threat to you. I am but a simple trader of weapons and other sundry items." A smile eased across her face, as her brow arched. "Can I interest you in a planet buster, multiphasic shielding, or perhaps a jump drive, of which I have recently come in possession? I am most eager to unload it."

"That's far enough." He said, and lowered his hand back unto the console and leaned back. "So, I take it you are a dealer in contraband?"

She stopped as his hand raised. He seemed cautious of her, and she allowed him the feeling of safety. But it did bring a slight chuckle when he raised an elctron-plasma shield. What he considered a protection was more of an appealing meal to her. She was glad she wasn't actually there to be tempted by the snack. "Be at ease, this is merely a holo-projection. It cannot harm you."

From the look in his eyes and body language, she could tell he was interested. The best policy was always honesty. She did her best to put him at ease. "If you consider weapons, ship enhancers and luxury items, contraband. Then Yes, I am a dealer of contraband. But Captain, I have supplies that would make you the envy of this sector. Advance your technology by at least a hundred years. My people are peaceful and only attack in self defense. As you may have noticed, I made no effort to lock my weapon onto your ship. I only wish to sell my cargo."

"From what you've offered me so far, I'm not to take your faction lightly. As a matter of fact, I am interested in a variety of your wares." He went on to question her integrity, what guarantee did she offer on her merchandise? Lya began to wonder just how these people managed to conduct business. Are they really that devious?

"Oww, damn it Ship! Pardon me a moment Captain." Without leaving the holo-pad, she leaned out of its beam. It left an odd looking half figure of her bent over hips and legs on his command deck, but at least he knew she was still there. She glared at Frodo for a moment. With the deal she had going she wouldn't be needing Mr. Underhill. "What is it ship? You know how I hate being shocked."

"Pardon, Lya, but a fleet of five ships just entered the sector. They are too long range for me to identify. I thought you would like to be informed."

"Just keep an eye on them, Ship. I'm almost finished."

"This might turn into a great day yet, with or without you Mr Underhill." Standing back up she re-entered the field. Tugging a bit at the hem of her dress. It felt as though it was riding up her legs. She never had been any good at simulating clothing. The Captain was looking at her with suspicion. "Sorry for the inconvenience. I will remain on board until all equipment has been installed and tested. Full schematics is not a problem, I will help install any and all items personally. Your satisfaction will be required before payment is rendered. Telkrans are an honest people, looking for future relations and profit. It is bad business to cheat a customer. As for the payment I would have to examine any ship hardware to determine it's value. Your Federation credits, are they exchangeable for heavy metals and such? If not they would be of little value to me. Slaves in good condition are a valuable commodity. If you have war prisoners, criminals, I could take them off your hands for a tidy profit or trade...If these terms are agreeable with you, it would be my pleasure to show you my goods. Do you have a suitable docking berth?"

Her fathomless black eyes locked with his as she awaited his answer.

"Oww, damn it to Devlon Ship!" He was doing it again. "Ouch, just a second." She stepped off the pad this time. "Ship this had better be good, or I swear I'll start sticking pins in the console!"

"The fleet that arrived earlier...they're Reticulans. Pardon me for bothering you but it seemed worthy enough to mention."

The day couldn't get any worse.

She turned and walked away from him, apparently into the control room. He took a look around the rounded, almost melted-looking ship, clearly organic in nature, and wasn't sure if he trusted being left behind like this. "She" was a wild card, but she at least seemed to have a reasonably negotiable mind-set.

Following, he took in the reasonably featureless command center, wondering how exactly such a complex ship might even be commanded. Couldn't she just give the AI orders from wherever she was? He saw her step on a panel, and then a fuzzy illuminated field sprung up around her. He'd seen a holofield in action, but most human builders put theirs inside booths or something; it was easier to keep the projection parameters maintained, and you didn't risk falling outside of the pickup zone. To see one free-form in the air like this was surprising, thought not impossible. Still, it spoke of a higher tech level, and once again, he felt out-classed.

He watched her move and saw her suddenly... well, grow or manifest a dress of some sort, something slinky and black and altogether alluring. The secret of clothes as aesthetics, of course, was that they hinted, suggested, and teased. She poked her face out of the holofield and said "You could have told me your species prefers organic coverings, Frodo."

"I'm not your research staff," he retorted, but she was already back in the field and talking to this "Captain Erhart." It was like listening to one side of any other com call, except that he could see the light squiggles change in the field around her. They were tuned to be fully resolved only from within the field, so he couldn't tell what they were at all. He stood around, frustrated, looking at the woman. "I pose no threat to you," she said, but her words of "gaping craters" still stuck in his head. Was there anything this creature said that could be trusted? "...perhaps a jump drive of which, I have recently come in possession? I am most eager to unload it."

"Oh, low blow, Lya." he muttered, loud enough for her to hear but not loud enough to draw her out of the conversation. When she jolted and leaned out of the field, she favored him with a glare, and he returned it right back. She may have held... well, the entire deck, but he wasn't going to give up his hand quite yet. "This might turn into a great day yet, with or without you Mr Underhill," she said before returning to her conversation.

"Don't count your chickens," he muttered, knowing she would have no idea of what the idiom was referring to, but disinclined to explain it, even if she had asked. He listened to her spiel, making her promises, talking about payment. When she spoke of slaves, he blanched. Officially, the Federated Alliance outlawed slavery and didn't respond well to slavers. The secret practices of some member worlds or some high-ranking officials was ignored when it came to this policy, and the concept of indentured servitude was still alive and well, but official response was fairly mandated, and Lya was walking into a danger zone without the least awareness of it. He couldn't help but comment on it. "Jesus, Lya, don't you do any research whatsoever?"

Just then, the ship shocked her again. The fleet that arrived earlier...they're Reticulans. Pardon me for bothering you but it seemed worthy enough to mention. Getting a look at her expression, and hoping that it corresponded with human emotions, he got worried as well. "Reticulans... never met one, but I've heard of the species. Am I to take it they don't much like you? Maybe I've got something in common with them after all..."

Actually, that wasn't fair; he didn't dislike her. But she was the sole cause of his entire current troubles, whereas things just seemed to happen to her willy-nilly. If he could retrieve his hidden property and bail out, he'd be out of her hair-analogue, but seeing how she did business, he couldn't very well just ask for it. His argument hinged on (actual) legal authority, but she wasn't the type to pay much attention to that, he was finding, so he was at something of a loss as to how to approach his goal, now.

Her look turned to shock as Ship announced the origin of the battle-cruisers entering the system. "Third Mother of Sechmat! Ship, prepare for silent running! Impulse engines only. I don't want to leave a warp signature." The control room hatch slammed shut sealing the two of them inside. "You better hope they can't follow a tachyon trail, Frodo." Lya blurred for a moment then dispersed into the room, her shimmering form surrounding Mr. Underhill. She hated what she was about to do, but there was little choice in the matter. She merged with the control panel, her voice emitting from the com system. "We're getting the hell out of here. This sector is being invaded by Reticulan Hive-minds, and it's me that doesn't like them...mind-rapers! Trust me you do not want to be here. If you wondered what my Planet Buster is and why I have one...they're the reason."

It felt as though Ship wasn't moving near fast enough, every instinct had her wanting to flip the warp engines on, but she held herself in check. "They have the appearance of humanoids, but all similarity ends there. Funny looking, all gray, big black eyes, bone-dry-skinny...but strong. They often send out scout vessels a couple hundred years before their arrival. Just out of curiosity, do have any history of little gray men showing up on your planet?"

Lya's cloud was swirling. More like buzzing, highly agitated. What the pulsars was she suppose to do now? She couldn't go home, she couldn't stay here. There was no time to dump Frodo. Just keep going, Lya, and she did. As fast as impulse could take her. All thoughts of the sale she had been about to make were gone up in star dust. She continued talking to hide the total lack of pleasure she was experiencing.

"They're hunter-gatherers, having a fondness for meat. What makes them truly remarkable is they are comprised of many creatures, like a hive of insects. They have developed extraordinary mental capabilities. Each separate hive is one individual, but they can join together to create whatever they desire, or create smaller units of themselves to work individually. They are highly intelligent, possessing telepathic abilities. Rapers, they have no conscience about invading your mind and taking control. I would imagine at this point your ships in the area are already submitting to their authority and being used against your own people. They are also incredibly strong, even without their ability to manipulate thoughts they are a menace to be avoided. The only way to kill a mind is to destroy every last insect in its hive. If any remain, they will create a new queen and continue growing. Minds never age either, the individual bugs are replaced as the old ones die off. They are about as close to an immortal creature as one can get."

Turning her attention back to Ship for a moment, Lya had no idea where she was heading, she didn't care. Away at top speed was good enough, but she wasn't about to stop running anytime soon. There weren't enough weapons in her arsenal to combat more than one hive ship. As soon as she was out of the solar system she hit the warp drive, not slowing Ship until so many light years stood between her and the Reticulans that there was no chance of them being caught.

She brought Ship to a dead halt in space. Lya could sense the human's reticence, but he had yet to actually encounter a Mind. Most beings thought in terms of destruction. "Frodo, I apologize for ripping you away from your people, but the Reticulans aren't going to destroy anything...yet. They are going to 'control' it. You don't slaughter your food all at once. Humans will become nothing more than mindless farm animals. Docile, they won't even think of rebelling. We had to get away before they touched our minds."

Coalescing back to her human form, she stepped away from her controls. Perhaps it would help if he could see her, understand the truth of what she was telling him. "Telkrans do not use deception Frodo. I never claimed to have not taken your jump drive. We don't know how to lie. It is bad for business. The items we sell are necessary in this aggressive universe. Deception is something we see in other races, but cannot duplicate. Our minds are always open to every other Telkran. If one lied it would be known by all. Such a deviant would be destroyed without question."

.....................................................

Dizzy's brow furrowed when she locked them in, but then his eyes nearly fell out of his head when she frikking dispersed herself into a gaseous form and began to work her unique controls. He felt better about keeping his vacc suit on; he wasn't in any danger of inhaling any of her. He didn't much care if he was catching a ride somewhere, but he was a little bit worried that he wouldn't be going in the direction of his goal.

She began to fill him in on the Reticulans, and his worry changed focus and intensified. He'd heard little more about the Reticulans than their name and the fact they were bad news. Apparently, some species weren't at risk from them, or weren't of interest to them, so word of them could leak out. But the more he heard about them from her, the more he felt sick. Her talking about little gray men... it was all over the pop culture of some few hundred years ago, places like Rozburg and shows like The X-Cases, or something.

He was in an emotional quandry, now, the more he listened. But part of him was still categorizing and recording what she told him. Telepathic hive-mind, check. Able to dominate other species remotely, check. Physically formidable even without mental powers, check. Able to regenerate if even one of their hive survives an encounter, check. Humanity turned into docile farm animals... check?

He stayed quiet through her explanation of Telkran honesty, then said quietly: "Lya, much as it pains me, I have to point out, if you were indeed lying, you'd say the same damn thing." He sighed, and turned to look out the cockpit window. "It sounds like we're talking genocide, here. Isn't there time for my people to react when the Reticulans come sailing in?" He tried to keep the note of desperation out of his voice. This was no time to panic.

If he could get word, somehow, to the Feds, they could use that overblown military budget for something useful. Hell, Lya could sell them some weapons, and they could mass-produce them to fight the invasion. He had a quest that he hoped would let him live free, but he had intended to live free with other humans around, and the Reticulans didn't seem to be wanting to allow that, if what the shapechanger was saying was true.

Lying? He still thought she might be lying?" Lya's anger was beginning to fill the void where her pleasure normally radiated. Not much mind you, just enough that some might have termed it 'annoyed'."You know, Frodo, you're about the most obstinate, suspicious humanoid I have had the misfortune to meet. I'm beginning to understand the logic of our scouts for this region. Use your head human. All I had to do to avoid you altogether was move my ship a bit and let you sail on past me. Instead I did the opposite and aligned my hatch to let you aboard. I could have dumped you back there with your jump drive...which you 'are' going to tell me why you wanted so badly. If anyone here is being deceptive Mr. Underhill, it is you. No one comes all that way for a leaky drive."

Daggers shot forth from the black depths of her eyes (this particular look would likely cower a Nazghoolian raider), as her finger reached out to poke his chest. "And great Sechmet's mother! Why would you rather truss yourself up in that space suit until you're purple with lack of oxygen than believe me when I say I mean you no harm. Or acknowledge that I just saved your sorry flesh from the worst known species in this particular galaxy? You should be thanking the stars you met me today. No offense intended, but in all honesty, your race seems a tad xenophobic to be wandering off your own planet."

Her form flickered again. Lya neglected to mention she had almost lost consciousness back there in her need to flee. There was only so much stress a Telkran could take before they shorted out. She had come damned close to being a pile of pretty dust on the floor of her ship. How would he have felt then? Hmmmm? hurling through space with her unable to stop the ship? At least she had her anger to hold onto now. As her agitated flickering subsided she extended her palm. "Here, as a gesture of trust, take your power pack." Her voice was a bit tense, her mannerisms curt. "The weapon is useless against me, but it could easily damage Ship. I simply ask you not to use it in here or we could be floating in this sector for a long, long time. We're too far from any sunlight for Ship to heal himself."

"It sounds like we're talking genocide, here. Isn't there time for my people to react when the Reticulans come sailing in?"

"It's not a matter of genocide. They don't want to exterminate you. They want to breed you. I wish I could storm back there with you and destroy them, but I assure you it is not possible. There is rumor of one race that tried to defy the Minds. They created a shield that could keep out the telepathic probes of the hive, but the same rumor indicates that their race was killed off by the Riticulans for their audacity. Perhaps we can track down the planet in question, on the off chance the shield or data survived the annihilation."

"Oh, one more thing. In case you're thinking the wacked shapeshifter is lying about the Reticulans, and maybe all those ships were after 'her'. Follow me." Tugging again at the hem of her dress, Lya opened the control room hatch and stormed across the loading bay to the cargo hold. Her hand fused with the small sponge-like substance that wasn't illuminating like the rest of the room, and the holo-field vanished to reveal a well organized array of goods. Tapping the odd looking devices to the left, "These are the mass drivers and my one planet buster. However, it would do no good in space trying to fight them. It is a weapon of attrition, designed to annihilate the food source of the Reticulans. It sounds cold, but we see it as an act of mercy. If they are at this outpost, more than likely your home planet has already been subdued."

Then she pointed him toward the weapons display. An entire row of cased artillery and handheld projectile and laser weaponry. Gesturing to the far end of the cargo bay, toward the larger armaments for ships. "I have Phase Pulse Cannons, and a Photon Cannon. I also have a few Plasma Blasters, they aren't as efficient but they are more accurate than the cannons."

"You might find these interesting." She tapped the row of personal hand helds. "Most are bulky, designed for war, but you don't seem the type for that. This one here is a compression blaster." She picked up an intricately engraved silver colored half-sphere, with a grip on the flat side of the dome. Sliding it onto her hand, like a ring on a finger, she placed her thumb over the button trigger on the handle. "You hold it like this," she showed him, "with the dome facing the enemy, and press the button. It emits a compressed graviton blast stunning everything in it's path up to 50 paces away, for at least fifteen minutes. However, direct contact to almost any endoskeletal species is fatal. Be prepared for one hell of a kickback and mess if you try it; it shatters their skull. Insectoids are a little tougher to kill, maximum setting is required," she pointed to the dial embedded in the handle. "It takes a few direct hits to be effective. Not so good since you probably wouldn't want to be that close to most bugs in the first place, especially arachinds." Her brow lifted, "That is if you even have bugs in your sector? The pernicious things seem to be everywhere."

"I don't classify Reticulans as bugs." Her head tilted, eyes turning back to the weapon, "On the up side, it is effective through all known armor and metals, except Palladium III." Lya shrugged her shoulders, "It is also ineffective against shielded ships." Slipping it off her hand she held it out to him. "If you aren't actually interested in killing someone instantly, you'll not find a better weapon than this. Each cartridge contains 100 blast caps." Opening the tray below the weapon, she pulled out a button sized object. Holding it up between her fingers. "This is the cartridge," she tilted the weapon to expose the bottom of the handle. "Up to ten cartridges can be loaded here. That's a thousand rounds of ammo in the palm of your hand. It is also programmable to your hand print only." She dropped the cartridge back in the tray and closed it. "But look the others over if you like. Nothing is loaded, so you can't hurt me or yourself."

She wandered to the next section; the electronics. "I have holo-grids like the one you saw in my control room. Liquor and aphrodisiacs from every planet known to Telkrans. Here are all my computers and hook ups. I have a wet-wire links with adapters. Of course there is a bit of pain installing the device." She pressed the side of her neck just behind her ear. "It's shot in here. A brain scan would be recommended before installation. While the unit is highly adaptable, I would want to be certain there were no abnormalities first. With the wetlink you can hook into any computer terminal. It feeds directly to the brain. Just close your eyes and think what you want it to do. Kind of radical, but you're always able to connect. It greatly enhances flight ability, by-passing archaic computer systems. Your mind can pilot the ship, your every thought a command. Handy for flying a ship in circles around an Imperial Class Hunter. Which brings me to the point. I 'am' a simple trader. As you can see, what I have here is barely worthy of mention to Imperials. They wouldn't send a fleet big enough to take over a sector after a single Telkran. And most certainly not into an area of such low technology. Pardon me for saying, but your species is hardly worth noticing."

He didn't respond to her complaints about his suspicions and her suspicions and his space suit. He still had a fair amount of air left, and he was too preoccupied to do much about it while he was thinking about the enslavement of his race. He accepted the power pack back automatically, and put it in his belt; he barely even registered it as he did it.

She gave her explanations, and then took him out to show him her wares. He wasn't sure how this was supposed to prove anything about her truth or the truth about the Reticulans, but he observed and noted in kind of a daze, looking at all her wares without fully knowing why. She finally got to her point, and he had to agree, it didn't seem like something any species would do just for one ship, and that meant if he could believe her about the Reticulans that maybe she was right about what they were doing there. And that meant that humanity...

The species wasn't going to be dead, of course; there ere always outlying settlements, individual traders who would see something was up, word would spread. He knew personally a few telepaths who possibly could resist the domination, but that would be, what, two? three additional people? Who knew how many individuals Division Psi had in their stable that might stand a chance, but even still, a bare handful of individuals within and without the Reticulan's influence, scattered over parsecs and parsecs of space, that wouldn't be a sustainable population. The human race might not die, but the free human civilization had just been given a death sentence.

When this hit home, he stumbled. He seemed to lose all sense of balance, and pitched backward to bump against one of Ship's inner walls. Before Lya could do much more than stare, he fell to his knees, and slumped. The tracker fell from his hands, and his suit speakers made an odd noise; the first time, it sounded like some sort of distortion, but the second time, it was recognized as a sob. His shoulders began to shake as he began to cry.

He reached up and fumbled for his neck seals. With a hiss, his helmet came away, and revealed his face for the first time, his slightly stubbly cheeks streaked with the tears of his grieving for his species. A shuddering breath, and he tasted the air inside Ship for the first time; odd, in a way that was more like a natural planet than an unusual recycler. He let the breath out in a sigh, done with his sobs for now. Now he had to speak.

"Unlike your people, deception is sometimes a way of life for humans. We betray each other regularly, so we all are suspicious out of necessity, and protect ourselves whenever we have to. My name's not Frodo Underhill, that's a name from a book, where it was a fake name to begin with. I'm Dizzik LaFontaine, and you'll have to excuse me a minute, but you've just told me my species, almost everyone I've known or cared about, is to be enslaved as a food source. I'm thankful for your help, but I need a little time to adjust."

Foolish human. Had he waited too long to remove his suit helmet? He appeared to be passing out. Was he gasping for air? Lya was about to rip it forcefully from his stubborn head when he began working the seals so he could breathe. For a moment she thought he would rather die than trust her. He seemed to recover quickly, however as he adjusted to her slightly oxygen rich atmosphere.

Lya stooped down to his level as he talked. His face was...interesting. His words however hit a bit hard, and the pleasure she felt while looking at his face was challenged by anger when he admitted to deceit. Would he have continued to do so had the Reticulans not shown up? It bothered her along with many things about his species. They seemed irrational. Like his boasts about courts of law. He would have to get her there first. It was as if he had not even considered that part of his argument. She had just fled a planetary space station and he thought she would consent to go back willingly? His thinking was flawed, and it sounded as if it extended to his entire race.

"Even your name? Why would you lie about your name? No... never mind, it doesn't matter." Her hand extended slowly to touch the wetness on his face, her fingers swirling into a mass of sparkling dust. Contact with his skin surprised her, normally there was no sensation touching a humanoid. Only among Telkrans was there ecstasy with the touching, the lure to merge. Granted the touch wasn't as good as a mental link, but would provide her with his species internal structure. Almost instantly she read his DNA down to the last nucleotide. Everything about his kind was assimilated. Lya had a good concept of human anatomy, and altered the remainder of her physique. Granted it was a little more difficult with a male than a female subject, but the sequencing was there. The change was instantly apparent, "ah, that's better." She smiled in pleasure. "Thank you for the link. I am now...whole, complete?" Her hand that had been cold, adjusted to the proper temperature. A pulse raced through her body, as her skin became sensitive to touch. Interesting, Lya. A look of pleasure crossed her visage. This physique was even more compelling with internal structure. This was something that might be noteworthy back home. It was very rare one found the form of a species pleasurable. Lya wondered if she could get him to agree to a mental scan, she would love to know how his thought patterns were organized.

As her warm fingers pulled away from his face, she was surprised by the sensation of them drifting across the stubble of his cheek. "What is this wetness? Does it signify anger at the Reticulans? Or is it a result of your being unable to breathe?" Her head cocked to the side studying him, "You will not try to deceive me further, Dizzik?" Her face flew through several contortions, getting used to the actual movement of tongue, lips, eyes. Her nose wrinkled, "I liked Frodo better."

Her legs began to ache a bit in the stooped position, so she sank to the floor next to him. "We are safe here. We can wait for you to adjust. You can adjust and talk at the same time? There might be a chance to fight if we had telepaths, or humans with psychokinetic abilities, but your race is too primitive for such things. Without some means of defense, it would be foolish to go anywhere near your solar system." Her eyes held a bit of fire as she turned to look at him. "As a further means of trust, I expect you to tell me why you came all the way to my ship for a leaky jump drive."

He didn't react when she touched him; he was still absorbed in his grief. There was a change in her appearance, in the way she moved, the way she stood and the presence she gave off, all of a sudden, and she thanked him for making her complete. He wondered idly what he had wrought with letting her touch him, get a sample of his DNA, but he had trouble summoning the will to care.

"What is this wetness? Does it signify anger at the Reticulans? Or is it a result of your being unable to breathe?" He blinked at her. Tears? She was really asking about what tears were? She continued on about deception, and she made several faces; he wondered if she was trying out new face muscles. Against his conscious will, he found himself being drawn into discovery mode; despite the death sentence for his species, he was contacting an alien life form, apparently the first human to do so, at least to contact this particular individual. That kind of thing had always drawn him out.

She sat next to him, and spoke of what they could do, what she expected. Trust? Well, it's not like he had a choice. When she finished, he sighed.

"All right, first, this water is called tears. Humans shed tears as a result of a variety of reasons, such as eye lubrication, a reaction to physical pain, and as a byproduct of emotional states. There's a lot of brain chemistry involved, but at the moment, I'm grieving over the loss of my entire species. It's not quite anger, although there's that in there, and it's not quite frustration, although that's somewhere in there, too. It's more sadness over the loss, and of losing nearly everybody I've cared about." He looked at her edgewise. "It's possible humans may have a wider range of emotional responses than your species, I'm not sure; I haven't seen enough of your emotions, yet, and you may not choose to display them the same way I do, even though you wear a body similar to mine. But that's what's happening to me, here."

He paused, took a breath, and continued. "I won't try to deceive you any longer. Deception only matters when there's an advantage to be gained, and I have no options anymore. Ultimately, I have no future; I won't live in slavery, but I'm estimating whatever free humans survive, even if they can find each other, may not be enough for a viable population, so my species is doomed, and so: no options. I'll be truthful about anything I tell you, because I have nothing to lose. But understand; I enjoy my privacy, and I may not tell you everything I know. But I won't lie, anymore."

Then he paused again, and gave her another sidelong look. "As it happens, humanity does have some psionic abilities. Compared to some species, they're newborn, but they exist. I know a few telepaths, and there's a secret organization within the government that recruits and trains psionics of all sorts, develops psionic-based technology, and so forth. But they're rare, very rare; only one every million or two shows up with any power worth mentioning. Granted, with trillions of humans spread across the colony worlds, that adds up, but even still, a bare handful, and again, spread across the entire volume of the Terran Sector; hundreds of cubic parsecs. Trying to find them would be like finding twenty specific molecules scattered through an ocean. And that's assuming any of them were powerful enough or far away enough to resist a telepathic compulsion." Without knowledge of the mechanics of what the Reticulans did, the psionic physics of how their compulsion operated, he couldn't know what was possible, or if resistance was even possible.

"Before I go on, let me ask you: I understand why telepaths would be of value, since the Reticulans work their control telepathically, but why did you mention psychokinetics, specifically?"

Tears? Emotions? These humans were complex, perhaps more worthy of study than she had suspected. He was so peculiar though...erratic? His emotions seemed to be the driving force behind his actions, even somewhat beyond his ability to control. Lya knew other races shared emotions, but Telkrans were unable to duplicate them. There was no feeling with the touch either. Her fingers still tingled, she thought. Rubbing them together even as he spoke, she watched them as if they had somehow changed more than their physical structure. Her hand wanted to touch him again. Most unusual. If the touch transferred with his species, perhaps emotions would as well? His words meant nothing, however. "Sadness? Grieving? I know nothing of these. Telkrans know anger and pleasure, there is nothing more."

Dare she broach the subject? Would he be willing to share his emotions, if possible. He seemed to be closer to anger at the moment, Lya reasoned. It would probably be best to wait. Though the pleasure of the thought itself nearly overwhelmed her. There was a time in the long ago past when Telkrans didn't even know pleasure or anger. How many millennium had they attempted to assimilate other emotions? If there were a chance of more...her pleasure centers throbbed with delight...she could very well become a very wealthy Telkran indeed. The day might be ending badly for Fro...Dizzik, but it just took an upswing for her. Even the prospect of selling weapons for the Earthers to fight with would be a minor profit compared to the riches she would garner for finding emotions. If it worked. How she scintillated with need to just take what she wanted. Lucky for her the Telkrans that classed this sector limited-inferior didn't stop for a closer inspection.

Looking askance at him, she decided it was better to be prudent at the moment. Just as anger wasn't the best time to strike a deal, she wasn't about to risk something this important on the off chance sadness was a bad thing. Her anger flared for one brief instant when he promised to not deceive her again. His admittance of worry over the survival of his race, however, replaced the anger with a tinge of pleasure again. There was a good chance that the Consortium would drop out of warp just long enough to drop a planet buster on his world, but if there was a chance of reading his emotions and assimilating them? The Telkrans might be inclined to help fight for human survival.

But, it was his next statement that truly caught her attention. To duplicate psionic genome abilities in the Telkran electromagnetic structure, they would likely sell entire worlds. She tried to not let the pleasure show on her face, but it was difficult to contain. "There are telepaths among your people? To find even one, would be invaluable to the Consortium. We have long craved the ability to read races other than our own."

"Before I go on, let me ask you: I understand why telepaths would be of value, since the Reticulans work their control telepathically, but why did you mention psychokinetics, specifically?"

"I have reason to believe..." Lya hesitated, not wanting to divulge too much information. His emotions seemed so unstable at the moment. "..from my touch earlier, it might be possible to share your cranial structure with my race. I can duplicate it's form, but a scan would be required to understand the unique electromagnetic patterns of the human mind, specifically telepaths. For this alone they might be induced to help you fight the Reticulans, rather than destroy your homeworld. A for a telekentic? Even one, could mean the salvation of your people, if the ability is transferable. That race that was destroyed, the Launtur, they were psychokenetics and almost managed to fight off the Reticulans. They were able to block the hive mind control with technology, and their telekinesis was able to virtually rip apart a Reticulan. It was just too little and too late."

Lya was finding it difficult to maintain cohesion. Her particles kept wanting to disperse and sweep around Dizzik. Easy Lya, go easy. "If we could acquire the ability of telekenesis, I can assure you the Telkrans would join your fight. We would still need to locate the technology of the Launtur, but we would have the means to fight back for the first time in known history."

"Sadness? Grieving? I know nothing of these. Telkrans know anger and pleasure, there is nothing more."

Dizzik nodded, absorbing that. "Interesting. I wonder; if you replicate humans, our bodies, and our brains, with all the specialized emotional response areas, the hormones, the endocrine glands... I wonder if you'll start to experience them. Human emotions are as much biochemistry as the operation of the mind, after all. Hm. We'll have to keep an eye on that."

~~~

"There are telepaths among your people? To find even one, would be invaluable to the Consortium. We have long craved the ability to read races other than our own."

He nodded, and the circuits in his mind started to flicker again, starting to calculate, evaluate. How valuable was invaluable, really? Perhaps he wasn't totally without leverage, after all.

"Before I go on, let me ask you: I understand why telepaths would be of value, since the Reticulans work their control telepathically, but why did you mention psychokinetics, specifically?"

"I have reason to believe... from my touch earlier, it might be possible to share your cranial structure with my race..." He listened to her discuss the possibilities, and the need for psionics. He found it somewhat suspicious that all of a sudden, telekinetics were in high demand; what had she read from his DNA? However, when she spoke of the Launtur, psychokinetics with psionic technology, including telepathic shields, it suddenly hit him, and his eyes widened fractionally. He hoped he didn't start sweating, or turn white, as the possibilities and connections coalesced in his thoughts, but she didn't react, so either she didn't notice or she didn't interpret the changes as anything wrong; with an alien you couldn't always tell. Still, he thought he might have an answer, and the realization energized him as more and more pieces fell into place in his mind. "If we could acquire the ability of telekinesis, I can assure you the Telkrans would join your fight. We would still need to locate the technology of the Launtur, but we would have the means to fight back for the first time in known history."

"Not just the Telkrans, Lya. If the Reticulans are the scourge you say, then the market for telepathic shields would be enormous. Entire species, those who weren't naturally resistant or who didn't operate on a different telepathic frequency from the Reticulans, would pay for such shields. And the weapons; if enough humans were freed from control, they'd want to buy as much weaponry as they could to fight back against the Reticulans, plus shields, plus ships. Wealth beyond imagining, and you'd also be hailed as the savior of a species, with all the fame and privileges attached thereto. And that's just on the Reticulan front; there's no doubt profit to be made from learning how to reproduce psionics, and maybe even emotions, if you manage to develop them." He was guessing on that last, based on what she'd said before, but it seemed reasonable.

He gave her a sharp look. The guardedness of his arrival was gone, and the depression sparked by the Reticulans' arrival had been dissipated by this new idea. Now he was showing his straight-up intelligence. "I may have information. Certainly, I'm human, obviously, and I know a few telepaths, if they've survived. I also know other psionics: ESPers, temperocognitives, and yes, even a psychokinetic. I may have even more."

"But I want a partnership. My goal is the freedom of my species, yours is profit. There's no reason we can't accomplish both; if we handle it right, the by-products from the liberation will rake in more wealth than can be counted. If we work together on both, we can both reap the benefits. I'm proposing equal shares for you and me in this venture and all the proceeds and by-products that shake out from it, less a small percentage commission to any human psionics that we find who assist us in the project. I share all the information I can with you, about humans, about psionics, and about the Launtur, and you provide the equipment," he gestured around to the ship and the weapons and gear. "Together, we'll use humanity as a test case for how the Reticulans can be fought and beaten, and then the marketplace will be the universe."

"There's a human tradition, a symbolic gesture," he said, straightening up and turning to face her, still in his suit on her deck. He held up a hand, and took off his suit gauntlet. "An empty hand, symbolizing no hidden weapons, clasped with the empty hand of the partner. We call it a handshake, and it is a traditional gesture to seal a deal. Of course, my computer array and your Ship are recording all of this, too, for purposes of registering the agreement, but I am, occasionally, a traditionalist." He held out his open hand, palm sideways, fingers extended, toward her, and looked her in the eyes. "What do you say, partner?"

Everything he was offering appeared almost too good to be true. Lya felt a niggling of doubt. It was a universal axiom that if something was too good, there was bound to be something inherently wrong. Was it too much of a coincidence that she just happened to be in his sector at the exact moment the Reticulans had shown up? That she met the perfect person to help her attain the life dream of a Telkran? He knew where to find other human psionics? And to top it off he was initiating the deal. It couldn't get any better than that.

"You want to create a partnership? With me?" Lya looked down at his extended hand. There was no need for recording devices aboard her vessel. Her own memory could not lie, and would be readable by any Telkran. Still she was reluctant to mention a true joining of minds, a scan to see if she could duplicate his thought processes. That would be the first step in finding out if they were compatible. If she could get inside his head with the touch, there was a very good chance the telepathic properties were transferable. The thoughts of riches was overpowering, he had no idea what he was offering. There were certain tenets of agreement between the Consortium and its members.

The strangest sensation passed through her chest as her hand clasped with his, as if her organs were made of clay and a hand had just squeezed tightly around them. Humans felt...good. Her thumb couldn't help but trail lightly over the knuckles of his hand. For the first time in her life the sensation of physical touch with an alien filled her with desire. Touching seemed totally natural to him, but for her it was an indescribably intimate gesture. Her cheeks felt oddly warm, and for a moment she was tongue tied. Then the rambling began, and she couldn't seem to stop talking.

"There are no established dealings with humans on Telkran. You would be the first. Until we know if human merging is possible, your credits are useless. Trade will have to be for heavy metals, possibly crystals if humans have them. Certain forms are highly prized among Telkrans." Reluctantly she let go his hand, her fingers trailing across his palm. A sheen of moisture covered her brow. A shaking began in her limbs. She almost asked him what was wrong, but it seemed to ease as she stepped a bit away from him. "I am willing to open a partnership between the two of us as representatives of our respective races. Stake a claim, so to speak. This would establish you as the liaison for your race. All further dealings would have to go through you should other Telkrans wish to trade with humans. It is a humble beginning, but a start. It will involve a great deal of trust on both our parts. However, if you would allow me to attempt to touch your mind..." she hesitated. Would he trust her? "I promise, if we are able to link, I will not read your thoughts or scan you. It is considered a form of rape among Telkrans. Consent must be given for a complete merge. I could, however, allow you access to my thoughts and you will see I speak with integrity." Her look was a steady stare, no wavering of deception.

If he chose to begin a partnership with her, the future wealth they would both earn boggled the mind. So long as her claim went in first, she had rights to the entire earth alliance. Her eyes glinted, "According to consortium law the deal would cover any and all planets where humans reside. It has nothing to do with the planets actually, but the species. In effect you would represent the human trade. You receive half of my ten percent stock in every sale to a human, whether conducted by us, or not." This was the deal of a lifetime, and he had approached her so it was all legal. She was fairly rippling with pleasure, this day that had developed into a dismal disaster, was again turning into a profitable venture beyond her imaginings.

"The important thing is to find out if we are compatible, then get the partnership registered with the Consortium." The goods in her cargo bay were a pittance. A possible merge far overriding the shame of returning home with them unsold. "The next step is yours Dizzik. Either you or another human will need to merge with me to see if we are even compatible. How much is the wealth and salvation of your species worth to you?"

She looked... well, she looked vaguely suspicious, if he could gauge her expressions. They were genetically modeled on his own, after all, so theoretically, they should mean similar things. But she shook his hand, anyway. He thought he might have felt a tingle, something entirely different from just the usual contact, but he couldn't be sure. What he could be sure of was that this handshake was also something more. From the way her thumb caressed his knuckles to the way she stroked his palm when they let each other go, if her signals were at all akin to human, it was... well, it was confusing, really. Because she was an alien, when one got right down to it. Despite the package, the uncanny aping of human behaviors, even without the emotions informing them... even though she gave the impression of being a very beautiful human woman, and gave the signals that would have had him aroused to the point of distraction with anticipation, he couldn't shake the knowledge that she was a Shifter, down to the molecular level. That had a cooling effect on his passions.

And he was listening intently to the knowledge that she was giving him, putting it all together. "The next step is yours Dizzik. Either you or another human will need to merge with me to see if we are even compatible. How much is the wealth and salvation of your species worth to you?"

He sighed, then, and grinned ruefully. "That's an interesting question. Particularly because I'm not quite as interested in the wealth aspect as the salvation aspect, but it all goes hand in hand, doesn't it? At least with your people."

"You know, I just realized that your species doesn't need recordings and detailed contracts and quite as much proof as my species does. A race of telepaths that can't lie to each other, you wouldn't need to spend a lot of time and effort proving what you say is true, justifying your statements. But not every species is as honest as yours, particularly not my own. Hell, I myself have been so used to dealing with deceit that I practiced it instinctively when I met you. This recording I'm making? Is not for your people, but mine. If we're successful, if we manage to wrest the yoke of oppression off of the neck of my entire species, those who come back in power are going to want to take the credit, take control, deny everything they don't like. So this recording is to address them, and anyone else who wants to know the truth."

He straightened up and looked her in the eyes, his tone turning formal. "We've shaken hands on an agreement. Whatever profits come out of this agreement, from your people or mine, we split evenly. I'll help you provide your people what they want, and you help me find a way to free humanity. You say that I have to represent the human species? As far as I know, from what you tell me about the Reticulans, I may be the last free human. At the very least, I'm the only one in a position to do anything about it. Therefore, I have no qualms about speaking for my people, because if I don't, humanity as an independent life form will cease to exist."

"Lya D'vahl of the Consortium, I, Dizzik LaFontaine, as sole representative of the human species to your species, hereby offer to try to merge with you, telepathically, to see if it can be done." He relaxed slightly, and his quirky grin returned. "And if it can't," he continued in a much less formal tone, "then we can still talk about the other possibilities for the partnership."

She nodded with a smile, "Profit is everything. Profit is the ultimate ...pleasure." Again she felt uneasy as he mentioned deception. Lya was reminded just how different they were. His species was an unusual sort, but at least he seemed able to grasp the overall concept of morality. Hopefully he would be able to overcome this predilection for lies. His reason for the recording made sense. Many races worked on a caste system. It would seem he was just a small crystal among the others in the pyramid. It would have been better for his people if they were all considered equal.

"Are these ones in power somehow more intelligent? Why are they granted their position? Is it because they are the most deceptive? This hardly seems a proper qualification to rule over others." Her form quavered for a moment as she pondered the irrational nature of her partner. "Never mind, at the moment it is really of no importance. That has all changed now anyway. The leaders will be the first to be culled from the herd. If we are able to save your species, perhaps you can find a better quality to admire." Dizzik seemed more relaxed and hopeful, she really didn't want to destroy his pleasure if it wasn't necessary. But, if there was no ability to merge with these humans, there was no reason to save them. A planet buster would be launched at his world, no questions asked. The only means known to slow down the Reticulans was to destroy their ...crops. Even with the destruction, Reticulans were getting too close to Telkran space for comfort.

Great Sechmet's mother, if this didn't work he would likely want to kill her. Not that he stood a chance of harming her at this point, but still, he would be filled with anger, this she did understand. "Now is as good a time as any. You should find the experience painless. Beyond that I haven't a notion of what to expect. I will be aware if you are suffering in any way." With deliberate movement Lya closed the distance between them." Let us hope for success then. I don't want to dwell on what may happen if this fails."

Hands raised to either side of his face, tingled from the simple warm pulse of his skin, the slight abrasion of stubble. The sensation of seeing him through eyes quite alien to her natural senses was a bit odd, but stranger still was her inability to look away from 'his' eyes. It almost felt as if he were trying to bore into her mind, not the other way around. Of their own volition, her fingers traced along the back of his jaw, for the first time delighted by the feel of another species. Her heart beat more swiftly and an odd sound of rushing wind filled her audio senses. Lya almost pulled back. She had told him it was painless and not unpleasant, but she hadn't planned on the swamp of feeling 'she' was receiving. If he found it as pleasurable as she did, he could hardly complain.

At least she only had contact with his mind. What was causing the difference? Probing deeper, she halted as his thoughts started pouring into her. Out of respect she shunted them to the side without listening. If he was in pain it would have come in loud and clear. Her search was only for the ability to merge, and there it was. Her electromagnetic field spun around his cortex, marveling at the intricate patterns, their alignment and function. His unique pattern was commingled into the solid form of his brain cells, but it could be duplicated, possibly even enhanced. Each part of his psyche stored separately, yet all functioning together.

It was stunning, compelling, this tactile sensation of flesh went even beyond the fusing of two Telkrans. When had her body moved closer? Why had it done so? Heat washed over her in a wave of bliss previously unknown. Her desire to merge vacillated between his mind and her body, areas filling with desire, intense pleasure. There, the unique feelings were coming from almost halfway back...Lya couldn't resist. Her field stroked once, long and slow, across his sensory receptors before reason asserted itself. The pleasure so vital she almost couldn't remember what she was doing. Withdrawing her field, she was shocked to find herself breathing hard. Tense frame pressed against Dizzick's from her lips to her knees. Her heart beat profusely as confusion raced through her mind and limbs. A gasp, then heat flooded her face, all in the same instant that her eyes snapped open. Flustered she pushed away, eyes wide, with shock. "What did you do? What was that?"

Whatever it was, Lya, it beat the hell out of profit.

He let the questions about human leadership pass; it was too complex, and he was too cynical, for an easy answer at this time. Her cutting queries were part of the record, in any case. Let posterity poke fun at the illogicalness of government. He just cooperated, letting her touch his face, her fingertips warm against his skin. Her gazed into her eyes, and found them as human and alluring as any woman's he'd seen. Was her entire race capable of mimicking creatures so completely? Body temperature, structure, even clothing (now that she'd created some)... it was uncanny. And her facial expressions and body language were right for what she was supposed to be feeling; she was either a quick study, or she'd already picked up more from just his DNA than he'd ever thought possible.

Her fingers traced back along his jawline, and if he hadn't been nervous about the whole merging, he would have found it tender and quite pleasurable. Her gaze seemed to draw him in, and even though he knew the ludicrousness of it, he found himself wanting to lean in toward her. Then again, it had been an awfully long time since he'd last had someone so physically close to him like this. And mentally, only a very few, less than a handful, had ever been so intimate.

He could feel her mind, on the edges of his consciousness. It wasn't quite like the feeling he'd had when dealing with human telepaths, but it was in the same category. His eyes closed, and he could kind of resolve it in his mind; it wasn't really sight or hearing, but the metaphor of it was the best way he had to imagine it. It was as if her thoughts were a cool breeze infiltrating the whirling hot gears of his own thoughts, sliding in between them, not interfering. Or a whisper of a different tone infiltrating the rhythmic drone of his own brain, a counterpoint with its own identifiable melody that nonetheless played alongside his.

He wasn't trying to probe back, he was trying to be open and let himself be touched by her mind, trying to "merge" or whatever it was she had planned. But even without consciously trying, he could see some of what was going on, and it felt like he could have found out more, if he wanted. He just received some of the knowledge without really trying, sort of like having old memories resurface, except they were memories that hadn't been there before, that hadn't existed in his brain an instant ago, and he knew that they weren't his own thoughts even as he was able to access them. He knew, for example, that she had been absolutely truthful about her species unwillingness/inability to lie, which was reassuring. What little he could easily see of the stream of her consciousness, it was so much more ordered and rational than a human's; there was very little branching of thoughts, very little wandering; some of that could have been just the situation they were currently in, but he got the impression that she was always like this. Was that a function of her species' physical structure? Did he have emotions and random ideas and conceptual connections because of the processes of his consciousness or because of the electrochemical and hormonal interactions of the biocomputer in his skull that housed said processes? Considering human creativity and ingenuity were often the result of said random connections, perhaps that was an advantage that humans had over even some of the older species in the galaxy. Intriguing.

But one of the most overriding sensations, one that was so prevalent throughout their interaction that he had mistaken it at first as a kind of telepathic baseline background hum, was the constant feeling of pleasure. She had said anger and pleasure were the two poles on the single Telkran emotional line, but he hadn't realized she lived in constant pleasure so much as it seemed. But then the pleasure spiked, he wasn't sure from what, and he realized, it wasn't just her normal state, it was her reaction to him! And the bleed-over from her emotions had a powerful effect on him, as well; he realized the initial impetus wasn't his own sensation, but in the face of sensing it, sensing this woman's pleasure from the inside, from her perspective, how could he not react in the same way? He had been too nervous, or too telepathically insensitive, to really instigate his own pleasure from the contact, but it was more than easy to feed off hers, it was inevitable. Some vague, distant part of him registered that she was pressing up against his skinsuit, but he was lost in his brain's sensation of her.

And he could tell his emotions, the plethora of them, were having an effect on her. If his mind was a field of red, and her telepathic probe was a tentative probing shaft of blue, then the edges of her mind's intrusion were beginning to roil with purple, sending veiny lines of color back to the source. He didn't know what that impressionistic image might mean, it was just something his brain painted, but it made him wonder once again whether by holding human form and seeing the example of human emotions if Lya might learn how to feel outside of the Telkran limits. He was not a psychologist, much less an exopsychologist; he had no idea if such a thing were even possible, and if so, whether it would be more dangerous than not. But it was something to think about, when he had the...

At this point, a telepathic tongue darted out, a fractioning shaft of purple-shot blue, and touched on something in his consciousness and his physical brain, and his whole body stiffened, and his thinking went white-out for a long moment, and completely lost track of what had been happening with the merging. He had no idea how much of that she had sensed, but when he came back to himself, her mind was gone from his, his arms were tight around her, having clenched her close instinctively in the throes of his reaction, and his groin was painfully constricted, from the most significant male reaction he'd experienced since his teen years. Lya pulled herself away, eyes large and almost panicked. "What did you do? What was that?"

"That, Lya, I think was an orgasm. I've never had one purely through the pleasure center of my brain before," he panted. He realized belatedly that this was part of the recording he was going to have to edit out. "At least, that's what it was for me; I don't know what the experience was for you, exactly, but when you touched my mind just now... well, that's a state we humans usually only achieve through intimate physical stimulation. Er, not to be crude or anything." Also belatedly, he realized he shouldn't be worried about biological modesty in front of a being who could take on any biological form and internal construction she wanted. But it was a hard habit to break.

"I can go into more detail later, but let's just say it's something that my species has evolved to consider pleasurable enough to pursue. Some who can, pursue it nearly constantly." He chuckled, releasing her a little bit more. "And I can't say I blame them. Um... so... did you find what you were looking for?" He found himself unaccountably shy, and couldn't put his finger on why, exactly.

The feelings had been so totally alien, but already her hands wanted to reach out and touch him again. Her eyes widened in understanding, this was how his species mated. So confusing, and opposite to her experience. Pleasure was calm; reached when two Telkrans joined in a moment of motionless symmetry at the apex of their merging thoughts. The moment in time when both electro-magnetic waves conjoined in harmony. Hadrons, baryons colliding at the neucleonic level, male dominant protons combining with the female neutrons, followed by a burst of ...pleasure... completing the mingling of thoughts and particles. Under the proper conditions, when neutrino oscillation caused enough leptons and quarks to divide off; a new being, an offspring, occurred bearing the composite inherent memory of both parents.

It was a thing of the mind, the pleasure coming from the joining of thoughts, two beings creating something more than themselves. But this! Her body felt the pleasure. Not only her skin, but parts within her were still experiencing pleasure, or was it pain? Lya tried to focus on his words, but found herself staring at his lips. Fingers flew to her own mouth, curious why they felt tingly. They definitely needed to go into detail, she thought. No doubt they pursued this...orgasm. She wasn't quite certain what the word meant, but this form wanted more of what just happened.

"It is like an addiction? There are addicts among my people." The disdain was clear in her voice, "they use substances to heighten pleasure. I think this is different." Glancing away for a moment, the confusion disturbing her thought processes. All she knew for certain now, was they were definitely compatible. "There is no doubt that we can merge. Had you permitted, our thoughts could have combined as easily as the...orgasm was achieved." Turning to make her way back to the control room, she stopped.

"Come, we need to get to Telkra, partner. There is much to accomplish. I think we can safely say your people are unique and valuable to mine." The enormity of what the humans could do for her race was making her giddy. Lya's lips curved up in a bow as a strange sensation began in her chest. Small bursts of air accompanied by inarticulate sounds bubbled past her lips. It tickled against her throat, vibrating oddly against the roof of her mouth and across her tongue. Pleasure she had known, but happiness was alien. The sound felt good, but her concern stifled it almost as soon as it happened.

Turning back to Dizzik mid stride, "What was that?" Her face suddenly serious, "It was not an orgasm, but it was pleasurable." Her brows furrowed in concern, "Will it harm me?" That was the moment everything went haywire. The next instant she lost cohesion. Too much, too fast. Her form phased in and out of focus. Oh, this is not good at all, Lya. Each time she tried to retake human form, her body began to tremble. Her heart racing violently, breath rapid, her skin had turned pasty, clammy. This is not anger, nor pleasure. WHAT IS IT? What had she gotten herself into? Her body was out of control, and what was she thinking? Reticulans? She didn't want to go anywhere near them. Ever!

Each step felt like walking into a disruptor field. Lya reached forward almost phasing through him, before again trying to hold onto the human form. Her fingers sank into his shoulders. "Dizzik? Something is wrong." The look on her face, one that any human would recognize as sheer terror. Lya had never known fear before.