Shore Leave
#11 of Casey and Dev!
It's Casey's special day, and when jackals are involved, that makes things very special indeed.
It's Casey's special day, and when jackals are involved, that makes things very special indeed.
This is a follow-up to "So Frantically Hectic" and "Inhibitions," and either resolves or worsens the plot introduced with Casey's kidnappers. Things'll work out, just in a very troubledog way. Patreon subscribers, this should also be live for you with notes and general worldbuilding stuff. Thanks to
Released under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. Share, modify, and redistribute--as long as it's attributed and noncommercial, anything goes.
"Shore Leave," by Rob Baird
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
Devin shrugged. "Can you do it?"
The engineer looked over the computer again, and then back at the Long Tall Sally. "No?"
"Why not?"
He was a rather overwhelmed-looking Border Collie, and at Devin's question he gave the computer a lingering stare. "Just this one line-item, the second one." He gave it a tap. "I'd have to rebuild the whole ventral bus. This is a Sierra, for God's sake!"
"And?"
The dog's muzzle hung for a baffled few seconds. "What do you even know about penductor resonance?"
"Enough that I've already swapped every pentavane out. And the ventral power relays are overspecced from when I put the auxiliary reactor in. I'm not crazy."
With a jolt and an incredulous snort, the collie held the computer up in Dev's face. "No? Fucking coyotes..."
"Standard mid-life rebuild. I figured I'd talk to the best about that, y'know? The main drive's been through a whole lot."
"I need to check with my boss. She..." He trailed off, and Dev watched the dog deflate. "Fuck me," he muttered. "She just went on maternity leave yesterday. Frank's standing in for her."
"Well, get Frank, then."
Instead he shook his head. "Two million credits. Ten days of work."
"Deal. And let's say an extra... one-fifty for every day under ten can you manage."
"Fucking coyotes," was all the man said.
It wasn't anything that Dev hadn't heard before. He grinned, patted the dog's shoulder, and went to catch the maglev back towards the city center. It was a beautiful day on Clearwater--of course, it was always a beautiful day on Clearwater.
Their hotel room overlooked a flawless beach, and crystal ocean beyond it. The snorkeling was supposedly fantastic. The entertainment was even better. The food was unparalleled in the sector.
Casey was sitting cross-legged on the bed, a box of delivery food next to her and a map of the galaxy hovering in the middle of a darkened room--the day outside notwithstanding, she'd turned the window tint up to full. She looked up to give him a wave. "Find somebody to work on the ship?"
"Yeah. Pricey, but we needed the rebuild. They said ten days. Which, I mean, I figured at least a couple weeks..."
"Didn't I tell you Frank would love to get his paws on an old 250?"
"I think that's what the engineer I talked to was worried about." Devin joined her on the bed, peering into a half-eaten box of what looked to be Chinese dumplings. "Aren't you supposed to dip these in something?"
"In one of the other bags," she said, her paw gesturing distractedly into the darkness. Reminded, she popped a dumpling into her mouth, devouring it in two quick bites. "We might have an opportunity. What do you think about Tevralon?"
"Border planet, right? Only thing I've heard about 'em is they produce more Akirium than the TC knows about. Filters into the black market, I suppose."
"Mm-hm. Did you know palladium hexafluoride is important in its synthesis?"
It was not that uncommon for Devin to feel the same way as the hapless Border Collie, although he kept his ears perked. "I didn't."
"Neither did I. It's fairly well-regulated, but I've got a line on a good price from a chemical supplier here. Finding a buyer on Tevralon wouldn't be very difficult, either."
"I wonder if... maybe..." He paused to consider his words. "Given that this was supposed to be a bit of a break, I wonder if we could maybe hold off on doing crimes for... I mean. A couple weeks after we get the ship back? One week?"
"You're no fun," Casey said. But she grinned, and stuck out her tongue. "No running drugs, either?"
They could definitely get those on Clearwater. "I didn't make you go to the beach, did I? I didn't make you relax."
Casey turned the map off, and tossed her computer to the side. "You only wanted to see me in a bikini, Dev."
"Well..."
"And that would only have been relaxing for a little bit."
Fair enough. "Probably. What if I bought you a bikini?"
"Why?"
"No occasion? Just... wanted to?"
"'No occasion.' I bet," she said with a snicker. "You could think of one."
"Relaxing. For a little bit..."
She rolled her eyes and reached out for the computer again. "Anyway, let's see what the spot prices are..."
***
Outwardly, at least, Casey professed no great ambition for relaxing. She did, though, abandon plans for a career in chemical smuggling. And, a week later, he came back from fetching them breakfast to find the jackal's silhouette posed against the window.
As he closed the door behind him, she clicked her teeth together. "Took you long enough..."
"There was a bit of a line. Also, you're not normally up this early. What changed?"
"Boredom. And my birthday's coming up." She stepped away from the window, and with the light hitting her now he saw that the jackal had changed out of her ordinary outfit.
She had not, as it happened, found a bikini. What she wore instead was a one-piece--or possibly several pieces, because the sky-blue cloth seemed made mostly of stripes. They crossed over her belly, and met at her chest, and--he couldn't help noticing--put the jackal's charcoal saddle on fine display.
"So. Breakfast, coyote?" she asked. She'd only half-turned to him, and her response to his abrupt, obvious distraction was a very characteristic smirk. "Did something else come up?"
"Well, you know how it is. Admiring your fashion choices."
"That so?"
Of course, his tail was starting to wag. "It looks very good on you. You're happy?"
"Well... I could get used to this, I guess..."
"Mm." He stepped up behind her, tracing the patch of bare fur between her chest and her slim waist. "So could I."
"Figured you might like it." She forced her hips back with a sharp, sudden movement, shifting into an inquisitive, circling grind. "Yeah, that seems about right."
"Gonna blame me?"
"Depends on what you do next."
He got his pants off to the sound of Casey's knowing chuckle. "Be a shame to tear this. More than it is already..."
"It's not. Supposed to look like that."
"Oh. Well. Be a shame to tear it for the first time, then."
Casey huffed, and then she glanced over her shoulder, narrowing her sharp eyes at Dev. "How about you don't. Don't be such a damn coyote. For once."
The fabric was, in any case, yielding enough to nudge easily to the side, and when he did that Casey turned back to the wall, widening her stance to let him situate himself between her legs. He nosed her pricked ear. "Better?"
As he asked the question he ground into her, and the tip of his cock slid over her lips provocatively. The jackal sucked her breath in, sighing hoarsely. "About to be..."
Dev guided himself into place, and straightened carefully, pushing inside to judge the angle--suitable, from her gasp and the way she stiffened. He waited until she was steady on her feet, and arched up into the firm thrust that sank his length deep in familiar warmth.
She groaned, flexing her fingers against the wall as a shudder ran through her. By the time it passed the coyote was already starting his next slow strokes, pausing to savor the wet, slick heat around him every time he hilted in his mate. The way she parted around him as he pushed into her, and texture of her folds as he withdrew. Her unsteady moans. The fur of her thighs next to his own.
When Casey recovered she allowed a few more pumping thrusts before the jackal bucked her hips to meet him: sharply, spilling a growl from between his gritted teeth into the scruff of her neck. But he got the message despite that: grabbed her sides in his paws, and rammed the next countermovement from her before she could interrupt his pace again.
Her ears flicked back, and her eyes shut. She grunted at the hard penetration, stretching up on her toes, and he drove the next claiming plunge home with the same swift energy. And the next, hammering the jackal into the wall as it took the brunt of their movements, and heightened volume of her gratified moans.
Most of his world was jackal. Her cries echoed in his ears, and the warmth of her back blanketed his chest as he leaned into her. Her pelt was hot and soft in his paws, circling her belly, and her heady scent flooded his nose as he panted for breath through her scruff.
In her--deep in her; he was lifting her hips up with his own in the clashing jolts of their raw coupling--was warmer still. Sodden and snug and welcoming each thrust as he rutted the yelping jackal bitch. Getting a bit more sodden as his precum pulsed into her, he sensed...
Getting a more snug, too. He had no idea how close he might've been to tying her, and only slightly more concern, given how readily she distracted him. The coyote's first indication was a second of resistance when he pulled out--and when he stuffed her again Casey's paw thumped erratically at the wall, and a giddy oath ripped from her pointed muzzle.
That did it. He tightened his hold on her and shifted into the quick, short tempo that he knew he'd lose control of before long. Just a few seconds, really, enough to start to feel his jackal give in herself. She caught a howl in her throat--he gave a cautionary nip to her ear and instead of shutting up she wailed, and her claws raked the wallpaper.
And as release locked her lean frame up Devin traded the nip for a proper bite to her scruff. He pushed in, and pinned her to the wall. And hit the first throbbing spurt of his climax in a groan that her fur muffled because at least one of them could be quiet.
Casey proved loud enough for both of them, anyhow, howl kicking up a notch when he joined her. But like the room damage, it was abruptly a secondary concern. More pressing was scruffing her again, snarling, each shove working her higher up the wall.
Or the tension, ebbing from him as he painted the jackal's pulsing walls off-white in thick coyote seed. Pumping his bitch full of cum instinctively, until the heat spread from his deeply buried tip all the way around him to the solid wedge of his knot. Until he was finished claiming her.
Until the strength drained from the coyote and he staggered unsteadily back. Casey grunted, and her legs didn't seem to be much use, but he managed to guide them to the bed.
The collapse was less than grateful, but nobody had to know that. Not the neighbors, at least, who'd learned the only important thing about the encounter as far as either of them were concerned. "So, you liked the new outfit, huh?"
"Or I just liked the jackal in it..."
Her back arched, and she twisted about to grin toothily. "Well, I'll take that."
"Again? You don't want breakfast first?"
She grumbled thoughtfully, and split the difference by wriggling against her mate, letting him work his arms around her to keep her close. The time it took for his knot to shrink changed her opinion; when he could finally withdraw, she pointed wordlessly at the bag he'd brought in from a café down the street.
"Alright, alright." Devin got to his feet, and she sat up to watch him collect the food. "What actually had you up so early, anyway? You're usually still asleep when I come back."
"Plans. Busy day, y'know."
"You're very good at worrying me in a small number of words," the coyote muttered. "Before I hear about your, ah, 'plans'... I got a message when I was out. Frank says the Sally's ready to go. Passed her checks with 'flying colors,' apparently. You trust him?"
"Frank? Frank's a jackal, Dev. Of course I trust him. Anyway! Now that that's settled..."
He looked back, and found Casey with her computer out--and turned on. "Oh, God. You have another contract." Her smile was wide, sharp-toothed, and unsettling. "That's what 'plans' meant. Where this time?"
"In the coreward Revini."
"You know how I feel about frontier sectors..."
"Much-needed excitement?" she suggested.
There was no way he was leaving the room without at least hearing her out, and he wanted to be able to eat breakfast in peace, so he leaned back against the wall and got comfortable. "I'm hoping if I pretend this isn't the kind of thing I should be sitting down for..."
"It's not. Simple job. See, the Keth Deruj control a lot of contraband coming in through Sivala and the Edra. Not everyone's friendly to them... some of them would be happy to pay us if we disrupted their supply chain."
"I'm waiting for this to be simple, Case."
"There's a supply depot. Here," she said, and brought up a map, expanding it with a deft flick of her paw. "Unguarded. This is what the Deruj use for... inorganic contraband. In this case, sixty thousand tons of refined xat precursor."
"Chemicals again?"
"Unfinished xat is extremely sensitive to ionizing radiation. A few bursts would be enough to destroy the whole batch. Jump in, take it out, and leave before anybody knows we were there..."
Dev rubbed at his neck. "Case, do we really need to piss off another criminal organization? Who's paying us, anyway?"
"That's not important." She got up from the bed and stepped towards him. "Keth Deruj also has operations in the Kevarat-Patrak sector. The Banshee's Nest."
"Fuck."
"The ones who tried to kidnap me at Pamir, too. They're slave-traders, drug-runners, mercenaries for scummy corporations--even the New Families won't work with them, Dev. They don't have friends here... they're trying to establish a foothold through brute force. Not to mention? We're already on their bad side."
"And it's personal."
"And it's easy."
"That... remains to be seen," he pointed out. "I don't know anything about the Keth Deruj. Their ship was... I don't remember the details, but it looked like it could've been pretty heavily armed, for a simple freighter."
She nodded. "Probably was. That's why we'll avoid them."
"We don't have a great track record with that," the coyote pointed out. "And we'd be completely on our own if things went wrong. Let me think it over, Case."
"Sure." She put her paws on the wall, to either side of his head, and pressed herself against the coyote, close enough that their fur blended together. "How long do you need?"
"Presumably 'until I agree with you'?"
"Exactly."
"I just... this is gonna be dangerous, jackal."
But she knew him well enough to know that his mind was made up. And so, with an airy grin, she let him go. "It is. But it's also payback. Let's check out before anybody, uh... complains."
"About the clawmarks?" Casey looked him over, head canted. "On the wall."
"Oh." A shrug. "Right. Yeah, or... well. Look. The ship's fixed, Dev. You're going stir-crazy. I mean, look at the way you just... had your way with me, like..."
"I'm going stir-crazy?"
"Aren't you?"
He sighed, although more for show than anything else. Neither coyotes nor jackals had really been created for laid-back resort planets, anyway. And as they headed over to the landing pad he told himself that--once they were on the move again--Casey might be talked out of doing anything excessively rash.
In truth this was, of course, unlikely. And that fact was why he'd gone to the Border Collie, but he was not a coyote given to good decisions and all of his most recent ones had been in Casey's favor. So, back aboard the ship, with his harness tightened and his resolve set, he went through their startup checklist.
"We're online, and all indicators are nominal. Check your controls?"
"Yep. Frank didn't break anything. What'd I say about jackals?"
"Yeah." Dev coughed. "Definitely my experience. I have our permits, Case. You can take us out."
"Thanks," she said, her voice a sing-song lilt. "You know you love it, coyote. Okay! Tellar Control, Long Tall Sally is requesting departure clearance."
The man with the answering Clearwater drawl had, plainly, no idea who he was talking to. "Long Tall Sally, Tellar Control. You're cleared for departure. Winds calm; clear skies all the way to orbit. Enjoy your flight, guys. See ya soon."
"Not a chance," she muttered into the dead mic. The Sally's nose tilted up, and Dev felt the steady, familiar acceleration of an ordinary takeoff. Casey was in a good mood: this time, they were steady to nearly a hundred kilometers before she shoved the throttles forward and the ship leapt the rest of the way to the stars in a hungry pounce.
***
Nothing's gonna go wrong. What could go wrong? Casey said it'll be simple, and she wouldn't do anything, uh... Any number of adjectives stood ready to volunteer, but he was out of time.
"Ready, Dev?"
Nothing good could come from that line of reasoning anyway. "Yeah." Prudence took the form of triple-checking the main reactor safeties. "Born ready. Let's do this, jackal."
"That's the spirit! Stand by--normalspace in ten seconds. One more time, Devvy. Just one more, and then I'll settle down."
"No you won't."
She cut the hyperdrive. "Nah, I won't. Shields?"
"Shields up. Sensors online. Well, here's a good sign--I can see the cargo. Standard containers, just about sixty thousand tons worth. Plus a bunch of junk. Uh, about ten thousand klicks off your starboard bow."
"Got it. I'm changing course. How long will you need, Dev?"
He scratched at an ear, looking over the display that monitored the freighter's systems. "If we misalign the jump motivator, that should create a gamma-ray pulse strong enough to do the trick. Keep us... I dunno. No closer than five hundred kilometers."
"Gonna have to slow down with this debris field, anyway. It's a lot of junk. Dev, can you increase the resolution of the nav sensors? Maybe widen the bandwidth a bit? I'm getting some interference..."
"Have to narrow the scan angle, but sure. Try it again."
"That's a little be--fuck!" Wailing alarms punctuated her yelp. "Contacts!"
"Over a thousand--what the--Christ, we're getting hit from everywhere! Uh, Case--incoming, right one. And--"
"I see it. It's not junk, they're fucking mines. God damn it!" She shoved the Long Tall Sally over, growling with sudden effort. The mine crossed a kilometer behind them, close enough that the explosion rocked them with debris.
"Aft shields holding--for now. Keep us evasive, I gotta realign the fuckin' motivator."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she muttered, words rushing together. "Got it. Work--" they took the next detonation right against the deflector shields, and the ship's lights dimmed. "Quickly," she finished.
"They're keying on the... here." He shifted the shield frequency, tweaking it until the mines began to wobble off-course. "On our deflectors. I think changing the settings confused them."
"It did, but they're adapting. And I can't get enough room to back us off. Can't fuckin' maneuver in here. How's the motivator?"
"It's been like a minute, Case."
"Well it feels like longer!" She growled, and gravity shifted under him, and he saw that the minefield had reactivated. "Oh, that's just wonderful."
"What's 'wonderful'... oh. God." They'd picked up company: a new ship, and Devin sighed sharply. "It's the Aquarius. But..."
"But?"
"She has an IFF. And if I... there. If we match their shield signatures and the IFF code, the mines won't track us." They weren't supposed to be able to change the IFF modulation, of course, but there were advantages to being a hacker. And to having a less-than-scrupulous pilot. "Now we just, uh..."
"How long 'til they're in weapons range?" she asked, guessing where 'uh' had been going.
"About a minute. And they've... that's, uh. Considering those power signals? That's an auxiliary cruiser. Those are big cannons. It might be best if they didn't hit us, Case."
"There's enough actual debris here I can buy us some time. But a gateway... well, it won't be kind to the space junk."
"Or to us, when it annihilates, no. Let's see what we can do here."
"We're being hailed, so that's a start. Channel open."
The gravelly voice managed to sound extremely displeased despite its computer synthesis. "Hello, thief. What brings you here?"
"Salvage," Casey said. "Scanners picked up a lot of junk. We didn't know it belonged to anyone."
There was a long, unnerving pause. "It's you, isn't it? We meet again. I hardly think that's a coincidence... or unintentional."
"You can think what you like, dude. Didn't mean to trespass. We'll be off now."
"You will not. You'll surrender, or you'll die."
"Big words. You ask Zetut Zetanas how that worked out for him?"
"He's an idiot, and received an idiot's reward. I was a fleet admiral, and you'll find this ship extremely well-armed. Combat does not favor you, Captain Carr. You may be tricksters, but you lack the tactical expertise to see when you should give up."
"Right. See ya, then."
A piece of debris--solid kuritanium, probably a chunk of former starship--shattered off to port, and Casey yelped. "Jesus fuck, Dev! What have they got?"
"I told you they were serious!" Heavy cannons, whose only saving grace was that they didn't seem precise enough to target the freighter. "Don't get hit. I'll have the motivator realigned in a few more seconds, so plot a course out of here."
"Uh-huh." The ship bobbed around more wreckage, seconds before it exploded. "You think this was a trap, Dev?"
"I think we just got unlucky."
"A coyote and a jackal? _Un_lucky?"
"Weird, right?" Another explosion. "Starboard shields are down. I need to cycle the emitter. Snap us... left?"
Half of a derelict refinery ship blocked the next blast before it could hit their exposed hull. "That means we, uh--we used up our bad luck, then?"
"You have a plan?"
"No."
"Want help?" She shot him a look over her shoulder. "Check the panel at your ten o'clock."
Casey's head snapped towards it. Her ears perked and, in one quick movement, she had the covers open and every switch flipped. Tactical power systems are now online. Set IMS to 'Tactical.' "Huh? Our inertial dampeners don't have a--hey! When did the IMS get a 'tactical' setting?"
"Happy birthday."
Confirm control mode. Normal law should only be overridden in--"Fuck 'normal law,'" Casey growled, and the ship lurched with whatever the jackal had just done. "I didn't know a Sierra could move like this. What did you do, coyote?"
"Remembered an important date," he told her. "Uh, FYI--we have enough coolant for five minutes at this power setting."
"Noted." She banked the ship again, and whatever part of her crazy pilot brain reacted did so in a happy yelp. "Okay, now I got a plan." But he knew that, because the jackal's excitement was suddenly backed by electric guitar and a quick drum beat. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't have an idea.
Not necessarily a wise one, of course, but an idea. "And that is?"
"If I tell you, you'll yell at me." A cannon bolt sailed past as the Aquarius vented its frustration at the now dramatically more nimble freighter. "But I want the shield frequency controls."
Lookin' for adventure, in whatever comes our way. He could guess what she was thinking, by the request, and it wasn't completely insane. Only mostly insane--but what could he do? "They're yours," he said, and hoped for the best.
Casey brought the Long Tall Sally into a curving arc, back through the debris field. "What's my new g-limit, dear?"
"Forward? Thirty, but watch the other components." The inertial dampeners were optimized for straight-line acceleration, but the present situation called for maneuvering--extra momentum off their primary vector--and he wanted Casey to be careful.
For a jackal, though, this was a tall order. "The other components?" She cackled. "Devvy! Yeah, darlin'--gonn' make it happen--_fuck! _God that's good! How's our shields, babe?"
"Holding." She adjusted their frequency, and Dev watched the sensor readouts become increasingly alarmed and urgent. 100... 130... 170... "Right, one o'clock. Might want to turn..." Left, he might've finished, but Casey--born to be wild and never one to abandon a winning strategy--chose to accelerate instead. It did the trick. 300.
"Hail that goddamn ship." He sent the request as Casey leveled them off. 350. 400. 471.
"Your surrender is--what's that racket?"
Casey was not, of course, about to turn down Steppenwolf. "No, I don't think we'll surrender. I told you: we're leaving. Don't fuck with us again."
"Or what? Your death will send a message. Yours, and your sister's, and those of your allies. We're not to be crossed and you--you, you insolent fool, are not in a position to make demands."
"On the contrary. I'm right in front of your ship. Blind spot for those turrets of yours." They were starting to accelerate, into a head-on collision coming closer by the millisecond. "Surprised your tactical expertise didn't account for that."
"Let me remind you: I am an admiral. If you are counting on me to blink, then you are making a deadly mistake."
"I asked nicely, y'know?"
"You and your tricks? You fail to realize how completely outclassed you are. My ship will--"
Casey cut him off. "We failed to realize that, Dev."
"Sure did."
"Think he might've failed to realize something, too."
Devin matched her razor-sharp grin with an answering one of his own. "Yeah?"
Get your motor runnin', the stereo announced, and Casey growled in delight. "Hold on. Watch the other components."
"Ready!"
She hauled the ship back and pushed the throttle to its limit. Fifty kilometers from the Aquarius, and closing at fifty kilometers a second, thirty gees of straight-line acceleration kicked the Long Tall Sally safe from impact.
There was no such last-minute jackalry for the four hundred and seventy-one mines they'd brought along as company. Very briefly, the Long Tall Sally crossed into the firing arc of the cruiser's turrets, but by that point the Aquarius had skipped 'fire all of your guns at once' and gone right to 'explode into space.'
Casey reached over her head, turning the power switches back to normal and closing the covers. Then she leaned back, grinning at the coyote upside-down, mouthing along to the music. Born to be wild! Teeth flashed. "Not bad, 'yote."
"Well, y'know. I figured the easiest way to contaminate those containers with gamma radiation was setting off a reactor explosion, so..."
"The way you'd be most on-board with." He undid his harness and made his way forward as the jackal straightened up and twisted in her seat to face him. "It worked, right?"
"Yeah." She kissed him back when he slipped his arms around her and brought their muzzles together. "And you remembered my birthday. Did something special, even..."
"Hey. I'm a romantic."
"You just know what's good for ya..."
"Jackals?"
She encircled his neck, pulling him closer for a second kiss. "Jackals are mostly good for jackals."
"I'll take 'being along for the ride.'"
Casey snickered, lunging forward briefly to nip at his nose. "I said 'mostly.' We can make exceptions."
"Can?"
"Did. Let's get outta here, Dev. I got more plans for ya."