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A Renegade Reborn

Pt 9 - All In The Family

By H. A. Kirsch

--

(Continued directly from pt 8.)

Everyone crowded around the cargo bay. Tally had unceremoniously cut my left coat arm off to get access to my arm, while I sat on a chair. "I can take it off," I had said, and he told me not to interfere. Fine, ruin my extremely expensive real-leather outfit in order to save my life, fucking robo-puppy.

Apparently, according to Tally's scanning - he was x-raying my arm as well as ultrasounding it with some handheld device - I had been a very lucky bullet recipient. It had gone through my deltoid muscle and out the other side without hitting a bone, major nerves, or the very important artery about an inch to either side.

Then, there was... "Xyrex."

He came out of his tetanized daze while Tally was injecting something into the bullethole which felt like someone pouring flaming breath mints directly into my arm. While the other wolf was held down bodily, his head wasn't restrained, and he lifted it up, looked around confused, then turned it over to me. "Aaaarrggh, what the fuck! You shot me in the face!"

Tally had choice words for him, reached over, and pushed his head back down. "Your wounds are superficial from your armor disintegration. You are trespassing on this ship. Please do not move."

"I can't move!" he growled. "I don't think you have to worry about me moving." Without the helmet on, his voice was just gruff. Gruff and familiar.

Marece stood on the other side of him, and had his gun back in hand, and trained on our captive. "Who else is with you?"

"No one," the wolf growled.

"I couldn't find anyone," Strake said, "And I got into all the nooks and crannies."

"Wow, I can't believe you shot a fearsome space pirate in the face and took him down like that! Kind of not really that fearsome, I guess," Mike said, and wagged his tail all over me as he stood too close by.

"Mike... don't you..." I squinted, looked between fox and wolf, and thought really hard. Had Mike ever met...

"Oh fucking say it you jackass," the wolf growled. "Hawk." Then, he turned his head all the way to the side and made eye contact. "Harry."

That might have actually hurt more than being shot.

Marece put on his incredulous face. "Fuck. I get fired, and now this kind of revelation? Let me guess, another friend of yours from back home like this hyperactive fox and that flower-wilting lion? Don't forget the tiger. What are you, a magnet for temporal anomalies with attitude problems? Also, your name is Harry?"

"I don't know him from Earth," Strake shrugged. He seemed unconcerned, although perhaps with the way his tail curled flagrantly while not lashing about, maybe he was impressed at the fast outcome. I mean, I managed to shoot someone in the face, and Tally saved both of us.

"He's my fucking half brother," the wolf groaned. "Harold Allen Kirsch. Otherwise known as Hawk, to match his wonderful glaring and predatory personality."

"And he's my fucking half brother, Bradshaw Daly. Otherwise known as Buck, because... I dunno, he never told me why." While I talked, Tally gave me an antibiotic injection, then pasted a sticky patch of WoundTac on both sides of my shoulder wound.

"Bradshaw's a stupid first name," he grunted.

"And you got here how?" Marece continued, arms crossed.

"Hey, you don't need to ask questions anymore, bunny rabbit. You got fired," I said. "Buck, how the fuck did you get here? You weren't on that ship with me, so what, it was the long way around?"

"Yeah," he growled, and let his head roll back. He also stopped trying to talk for a while. Everyone just stood around, watching us. "Go on, ask the next one. I know you're gonna do it."

"What happened to Kennedy? I mean... wait, Kelly, right? She changed her name." Kelly was a fox who Buck had married shortly before I met him for the first time, as an adult. Neither of us had grown up having a brother.

"Have you heard the stories about what happened during the migration?" He said. I nodded. "Then you know what happened to Kelly because I'm here and she isn't." Despite Tally's attempts otherwise, he lifted his head and looked at me. It was one of those looks that shot daggers.

"And now," Marece continued, distinctly not sensing anything about the gravity of the situation, nor listening to me, "You're a space pirate."

Buck continued to stare at me. "Are you gonna leave me tied up here? Do you think I'm gonna do something to you now? I didn't fucking board your ship to steal your expensive pants off your ass." It was a knowing stare.

I moved my arm a bit, and despite everything Tally had done to it, ouch. "You yelled something about how you knew what business we had back on Corrin," I grunted through my teeth.

Now Tally moved to him, and started prodding at his face. "I got word that a ship docked there full of Prak to sell off. That sounded a little suspicious. This is a dinky little ship. What's a dinky little ship doing with a bunch of Prak? That stuff gets moved around on small freighters and you could fit this ship into one of those ships' exhaust ports. So as soon as you left, I followed you. Either you were going to get more Prak, or you had something equally interesting and probably gray-market at best."

"How? We didn't see anything coming after us," Mike said.

Buck groaned and squirmed under the white leather as Tally cleaned his face and applied WoundTac. "Of course you didn't see anything. I have a cloaking rig. I painted karr lines on my ship - if I want to be seen, everyone will know who's coming. If I don't want to be seen, no one sees me." Buck spoke with a serious, disgruntled tone. Unlike me, he didn't have much of an accent. Maybe a tiny hint of country twang now and then; he'd spent much of his life growing up in suburban Atlanta, Georgia, United States, Earth, et cetera, before he moved back to New Yawk, baybee.

"Strake, you said you registered me as the captain on this ship," I looked over at him.

"Hah! Why would I do that, I'm the one who knows how to fly this thing, and he owns it," the tiger pointed to Mike. "I just didn't want your ego to pop at the wrong moment."

"It doesn't matter who's registered to who. As soon as I connected to your ship systems when you left Daleon, I knew who was onboard. And then I found out who you all _are._You know what I mean. And that's interesting stuff, except for him." He glared my way again. "That's not just interesting. That's... that's..." Buck started to get, I don't know, visibly upset? Excited? "Oww! Fuck." Tally's medical treatment interrupted whatever reverie the wolf was having.

"So you just happened to blunder into the one ship carrying your half brother from five hundred years in the past," Marece got to the real point, and didn't look like he bought it.

"Lemme tell you something," Buck growled, and tried to sit up again. "I never thought I'd ever meet this jerk in the first place. Long story. I just... he wasn't part of my life. He was just a fact, somewhere there was some wolf who had the same father. So what happens?" He started to tell the a story, even if it's not the whole story. "I'm fucking my wife on the hood of her car in a parking lot because we were just starting to date and I was hot as fuck for her, and he rolls up because he followed us because I had a fox in the car. And then I run into him again. And again. And finally, we find out who we are." As he spoke, Buck turned and made eye contact with me, and his look said, don't you dare say anything. I didn't; he continued. "Obviously, if we end up in the same universe, we'll smash into each other like, I don't know, antimatter and matter or something. Can you fucking untie me? I'm not gonna do anything. I'm the only one in my ship. I'm working alone today. I didn't want to risk a bunch of other people from my crew on a... personal visit."

Strake walked over to the emergency airlock, shut the door, and cycled it. ["WARNING - EMERGENCY DOCKING CLAMPS REMAIN ACTIVE."] "There. No running into your ship and blowing the clamps and spacing us."

Marece walked over, and methodically undid the straps. I gave him a rotten look, and he sniffed back. "I don't care if I'm not a TARE agent anymore. I have the most situational training out of all of you put together. Clearly this is a ridiculous_situation, not a _dangerous one."

Buck sat up and groaned, then climbed down off the bed. He staggered, leaned against the wall, and eyed Tally who did nothing. "I fucking hate those robot things. I could fall flat on my face and if I didn't hurt myself, it'd just stand there staring at me like a guard dog."

Strake stepped in between Buck and everyone else. "You expect us to believe you're just coming over for tea and cookies?"

"Yeah, this is kinda fishy," I said. "You're probably recording this. You're probably live streaming this. Isn't that what you do?"

Buck cackled. "You think I'm gonna release a video giving my name, face, and the fact that I shot my own fucking half-brother in the arm and he shot me in the face? I don't televise my failures." He looked as if his entire body was waking up from being asleep from sitting on it wrong. "If I tell you why I do this shit, you're gonna laugh, so I won't."

"I don't laugh at anything," Strake crossed his arms.

"That's not true, you laugh at me when I accidentally shock myself a little working on the ship," Mike said. Strake turned and chuffed at him.

"Talk, pirate puppy." Strake then uncrossed his arms and pulled out a gun. This didn't surprise me - but it surprised Marece, who looked as if Strake had just pulled a rabbit out of his pants. An unexpected, bullet-spitting rabbit.

"Alright, fine. I always wanted to be a pirate. Since I was a kid. It looked and sounded cool. And after having everything in my life ripped away from me and also killed right in front of my face, I thought, what's stopping me from being a pirate? What's stopping me from putting on some fancy outfit and stealing a ship and doing whatever I wanted and shoving it in people's faces and getting drunk and fucking whoever thinks fucking pirates might be a good idea? Nothing. So I spent about fifteen years making little mistakes and learning from them." He started taking off his boots and armor; underneath it, he wore a kind of black stretchy bodysuit, which he unzipped down from his neck.

Buck had not made little mistakes. Buck had real, serious scars. Several on his chest, his neck, and now that the spit and blood was cleaned up, his face. A pretty attractive rogue scar on his cheek up through his eyebrow. A deep scar. It should have intersected his eyeball, though at first glance, there wasn't anything weird about his eye.

"After a while, I stopped making little mistakes. I didn't make big ones; I just stopped making mistakes. Other people made mistakes, like crossing me, or not surrendering their shit when a fucking space pirate and five of his henchmen board their ship. Do you know how many people don't realize you can blow the emergency airlock door at any time on these Teron ships? There's no magical safety interlock. Supposedly it's for fire safety, since the fastest way to put out a fire in space is get rid of the air."

Marece looked at Mike with a bit of shock on his face; the fox nodded in confirmation.

"Can we not talk about airlocks so much," I grunted, and found myself uncontrollably envisioning Kale the pathetic coyote and the look of weird serenity as he closed his eyes and was blasted backwards out into death.

"Whatever," Buck grunted. "You wanna know what's the best?" He continued removing his bodysuit, until he was naked, save for a pair of briefs. His entire left leg was synthetic. It wasn't furry, though it was black like the rest of him, and looked a bit like articulated plastic and metal, a color-matched version of the bare-metal stuff the doberman at the slave club on Daleon had in various places. "That's right. I have a fucking peg-leg. I'd wear an eye-patch, too," he gestured to his face, "Except I'm not going to go around with one eye. If you get your whole eye replaced, it beats the shit out of those implants everyone has. I can see colors you wish you saw," and he said that last bit contemptuously. Unlike the leg, his left eye looked really did look completely normal at first and second glance.

"You gonna show off your tattoo next?" I offered.

Buck's shoulders lifted up and his face wrinkled into a snarl, his ears canted back, he took a breath, and basically he adopted instant attack wolf posture. Mike and Varius actually stepped back; Strake lifted his gun.

I lifted my hands in mock safety. "Hey, if it was my tattoo, I'd show it off. But you. know. me," I said, making sure to enunciate every word at the end. I could not help antagonizing him. I had to. I felt this giddy rush inside. The mere presence of him caused me to buzz and roil and hold my tail in alert. It was a feeling I had felt ever since I laid eyes on him in that parking lot, heard him grunt while he fucked his fox toy, since I smelled him after he finished.

Buck snarled enough that he drooled onto the floor.

"Alright, alright, no need to get fucking uptight," I said. "Maybe we oughta eat something, huh? Maybe you're just hungry. Maybe that's why you're crabby."

"Uh, Hawk, I don't think teasing a space pirate is a smart idea," Mike actually tugged on my arm when he said it. "Also, eating doesn't solve problems. Multiple therapists told me that."

"It does if you're hungry. Don't worry. He won't do anything to me. We already had our little spat," I said, tapped my shoulder, and tried to avoid gagging from the pain.

--

I had enough room in my captain's quarters to pace around, so I paced around. Not in a circle; just back and forth, an anxious wolf. I can't believe Buck's here, I can't believe Buck's actually a fucking pirate, I can't believe he almost killed me, I can't believe I almost killed him, I can't believe he almost took his whole fucking clothes off right in front of everyone so I'd have to stare at his dick bulge and I can't believe I managed to keep my mouth fucking shut about-

Bang. The door flung open.

"Hey! Don't fucking hit the panel that like that!" Strake hollered. Mike followed up. "Yeah, don't fuck up my ship!" The fox sounded like the second-rung upstart who wouldn't have any balls if he wasn't stationed behind a tiger who could take a fist through the heart and not die.

Buck walked into the room and the pocket door slid shut behind him. He'd cleaned up his face entirely; parts of his muzzle had lines of sticky WoundTac. With a lot of arguing between everyone else - and a flippant 'fine' from me - Strake had let him go back into his ship to put on some clothes. He had the boots and pants from the video clips I'd seen, which meant identical pants to mine and the slightly more futuristic yet fold-top boots. He also had a vest, which was fancy black leather and which had buttons and chains down the front. For a shirt, he had a red fabric one that looked pretty much like Varius' black flowing pants: loose at the arms, open V-lacing at the neck. A fucking pirate shirt, like he was at a renaissance faire. He had fingerless leather gloves.

"Are you fucking shitting me?" I laughed at his appearance.

He bobbed his eyebrows, and then backed up against the door, and beckoned me over. He tapped something on the door panel, and suddenly it wasn't so soundproof anymore. He put an ear up against it, and I did the same. I could hear voices on the other side of the door.

Strake: "Hey, faggot, did you see what he was wearing?"

Mike: "Why do you keep calling me that? We're all gay. Or at least bi, I don't know about Marece and Varius."

Strake: "I dunno, you just look like a particularly faggy fox."

Mike: "No, I didn't, I mean, I was trying to get Tally to be nicer and didn't see-"

Strake: "Look at the fucking camera shot here, huh."

Mike: "Hahahaha! Oh my god that's like swashbuckler pirate!"

Varius: "What is so loud? Ohh. He is, what is the word for... rushing!"

Strake: "Do you mean fucking dashing?"

Varius: "Dashing! Is dashing wolf! I see why so popular on media."

Mike: "There's fan fiction porn of him!"

Strake: "There better not be fan fiction porn of me or I'm gonna need to buy more ammo."

I sputtered and tried not to laugh out loud, holding my muzzle.

"And now, you're doing it too," he said, and I saw him lift a hand.

"It was a fucking laugh of endearment!" I said, and then punched him in the shoulder as hard as I could.

"Aahhh! God dammnit! What was that for? You're the one laughing at me!" He shoved me and I toppled back against a rack of stuff which wasn't really mine. "Look at this, your sex toys have sex toys."

"You fucking shot me, you could have killed me!" I lurched forward, grabbed him, twisted him away from the door, and tried to knock his knee out so he'd go down to the floor. I tried to use my left arm and immediately buckled instead. We both went down, and I tried to roll a bit to my right. "That shit isn't even mine," I grunted, rolling on top of him. "It's that fucking fox, he's a cosplay BDSM sex lunatic. He likes being sex-tortured by guys dressed up like Batman and robots and stuff. He used to rent this room out for money when he was stuck on Daleon."

Buck headbutted me right in the end of the nose.

"ARFGH! WHAT THE FUCK?!" I coughed, and spat in his face.

"The second_they found that stupid rich people escape ship, I couldn't even _see straight, I was thinking about it. One thing, just one fucking tiny thing, one little bit of something from a world that was gone out of existence, and finally fucking gone out of my mind! One thing and it's you, you slimy disgusting piece of wolf shit!"

I wrestled him off and clambered up; he rammed me into the wall next to the door and then dragged me, and hurled me towards the bed. I staggered back, fell, and used the bounce to come up and grab him. Nope, nope nope, shoulder again. He got me back down.

He didn't stop. "You're the fucking reminder that I grew up with someone other than my real fucking dad! I never met him! I never got to! HE DIED IN THE FUCKING LOS ANGELES WATER RIOTS!" He tried punching me and I blocked what I could with my right arm; he got a good one into my neck, fist shoving my own hand back, when I tried with the left and the pain from tensing my muscles made me weak.

"You wouldn't want to meet him! You think I'm slimy, why do you think I'm slimy, do you think I just decided to be slimy one day? He shot his slimy genes into my mom's cunt! At least I don't knock chicks up for fun and then bail on them! And fuck you, both of my parents are fucking dead, my mom died in that fucking Alaska permafrost subduction accident! Everyone's parents on Earth have been dead for fucking five centuries, you space-scurvied idiot!" I decided to see if I could punch him in the face or if he'd do something stupid. So I clocked him in the jaw and he barked like a kicked puppy.

"Awwrgh! Fuck! That's the side you shot me on!" He clutched at his face.

"Your fucking dead mom fucking made an agreement with my fucking dead mom and both of them were fucking whores and the only reason yours didn't sue mine is she agreed to never let you see me!"

He dumped me back again and clambered on top of me and pulled his gloved fist back to pound me in the face. Then someone opened the door.

"Uhh, is everything okay in here?" Mike stood in the doorway, with all the actual gravitas of a kid watching his parents fight again.

Buck's face crazed with embarrassment, he backed off, and then sulked to sit-lean against the 'writing desk' in the room. "Who the fuck are you again?"

His worried look drained away with that instant flick of emotion shift Mike had for a hallmark. "Hi, I own the ship, my name's Mike Jasek." Despite what was going on in a general sense with a quote-unquote infamous space pirate having disabled and boarded our ship to steal our stuff, and the immediate situation of Buck and I having a little tussle, Mike looked basically like he was in starry-eyed awe.

"Well, Mike, this isn't any of your business," Buck said, got up, pushed the fox out, and shut the door again. He wiped his muzzle. Then, he looked around the room, walked to one side of the bed and then the other, and fell back into it with a tired huff. "Don't."

"I'm not gonna." My shoulder hurt. Theoretically, Tally had put some painkiller stuff along with antibiotic into the bullet hole, however seeing as it was a fucking bullet hole through my entire shoulder, it kind of hurt whenever I thought about moving it, and actually hurt whenever I actually moved it. "So what, you shot me there on purpose? You knew it was me, and you still shot me?"

"I shot you because if I didn't shoot you, you'd shoot me."

"Yeah, well, same. With the additional part of, I didn't know you were my fucking..."

He turned and got within tooth-clacking distance. "You really wanna say it a lot, don't you. Ever since we ran into each other that first time, you want to _remind_me." He then sniffed me. His eyes narrowed. He sniffed me again.

"Say it," I said.

He growled.

I opened my mouth and gnawed all over his muzzle, until he wrestled his head back out. He had a painful flinch on his face. "Nnnnnnrrrhh-"

"C'mon, wolfy, say it."

He wrinkled his snout up so hard it actually undid the WoundTac. I growled back. His eyes looked to the side. I got the searing yellow eyes, but his looked more wolfy, somehow. "Mmmhhh. I love how you smell."

"You ruined my fucking jacket, you know that?" I rolled to try and grab him closer, and winced. "Ungh. Get on the other fucking side, you're making me be on my bad arm." He got up and moved; I immediately rolled him onto his back and pinned him down. "You ruined my fucking jacket. This outfit cost me like thirteen thousand credits. Five hundred years in the future and one of my outfits still costs thirteen thousand something. Isn't that funny, huh?" When I said those words, I could feel him twitch and see him adopt _the look_which was how I felt inside when I thought about it. The time. "And you, you're fucking dressed like a gay-ass pirate, so don't give me shit about fancy outfits."

"I _am_a gay-ass pirate. I gave up on women. I finally got one I liked, even if she started off a dude, and... well, fuck that." Whatever bravado he'd summoned again died on the vine like a special effect in a movie.

"Don't mind if I do," I said, and jammed a leg between his. "We have the same fucking pants on. And that means you have a back zipper, gay-ass pirate."

He grabbed me below the ears and pulled me close. "They can fucking hear us through the door, I didn't turn the soundproofing back on," he grunted.

I licked his face. While I really wanted to lick the inside of his mouth, I got his muzzle again, and discovered that WoundTac has anti-licking bitterant. Ungh! "You got dressed up like that just for me, didn't you," I said, and used my kind of lame hand to pluck at the lacings on his shirt. "You could have just put your fucking armor stuff back on, but no, you go and get out the Errol Flynn shit. I'm surprised you don't have a bandana. Or one of those fucking hats. With a fucking feather in it. Where's the fucking parrot. Or are you going for more of the Dread Pirate Roberts? He wasn't a pirate, he was just a twat with a British accent. Maybe Captain Hook-"

He struggled underneath me. "God fucking shit, this is going to ruin everything! Those assholes out there that you've got with you, they're gonna tell someone, there's probably a fucking camera in here, there's cameras in everywhere in these ships, there's cameras in the toilet-"

"There's cameras in the toilet?" I actually felt surprised. I also pinned him harder, in case he was getting the upper hand.

"I told you, I could see you hiding."

I grabbed him by the shirt, and braced myself, and held him down that way. I mostly leaned on my right arm. "Alright. Here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna get up. I'm gonna open the door, and I am going to throw you out of here. You're gonna go back to your ship, angry, licking your wounds. I'm gonna come give you a piece of my mind in like, an hour or something. And you're gonna take it because you love how I smell. You got that?"

I got up and he immediately jumped up to his feet, and tried to muscle me back down. So I barreled him against the door, pulled him back, punched - oww my arm! - the door panel, then tried something I'd never done before. I backed up, lifted a boot, and kicked him out of the room with a heel to the sternum.

It worked; he hurtled out, backpedaling frantically, missed hitting Strake by about an inch, and banged into the far lounge wall. He stormed off out the emergency airlock and then slammed the door shut from his side of the ship. I leaned in my doorway, panting, not so much from the exertion but because I needed to look like I was panting. Strake looked at the door, me, the door, and we both waited. There were no emergency docking clamp noises.

The tiger then grunted and went back to whatever he was doing on his tablet.

--

I gave him his hour. I checked in with Tally, who admonished me for moving my injury around too much. "What, are you gonna strap me down? I'm not a space pirate."

I checked in with Mike, who was incredibly stoned. "For someone who said cannabis isn't popular here, you're high as a kite."

"It's just... it got kind of crazy, I thought we were gonna die or something?" He said, and rolled around on his bed, unable to get comfortable or just enjoying crawling around on his pillows. "This is kind of like, on one hand, I love watching this kind of stuff on tv and in movies and in comic books and stuff! On the other hand, I mean, Xyrex isn't a joke or something. He actually steals stuff and commandeers ships and kills people."

I grabbed his vape pen and had some. He nodded me on. "That seems like he'd have the space cops going after him, or maybe the space navy," I said, throat tense as I was talking the haze out.

"Mmm, well, I think it's kind of usually sorta gray-market people. When I say gray-market that's kind of slang for 'organized crime but like when they run a store or restaurant and not the part where they cut people's fingers off for screwing up', I guess. It used to mean unauthorized distribution obtained legally, like selling electronics where there's no manufacturer warranty coverage."

"We're not-"

"You noticed the crates, right? Strake got a shipment of Prak extract to move to that resort, so why didn't he move all of it and why'd we leave so fast and not hang around there? We totally could have done stuff at the resort station. It's just a generic sort of giant space cruise ship that doesn't go anywhere, but I mean still. We could have had a little fun. He probably just got the number 'wrong'. Someone orders stuff and gets us to pick it up, we pick up the stuff and give them only some of it, say that the price went up. Strake gets the same cut he would have before for shipping it, and then turns around and sells the extra to someone on the black market! Gray market! Whatever market! He used to be a 1%er and I think that kind of thing dies hard, especially since I think he still wants to be one."

I coughed vapor out. "So he's going after people that other people are okay with him going after, is what you're saying. He being... Xyrex."

"So he's really your half brother? You have a half brother? I guess you two kind of look a bit similar, I mean in person, but you're a little taller and he looks meaner. You don't really look mean, you look like you just told a really good joke on someone else and think it's funny even if they don't. Wait! I think he came to The Pit once. He looked uncomfortable even though he was wearing a really nice cafe racer jacket and boots. He bought some poppers from my shop thingy."

I sighed. "Thanks, Mike." I got up and continued doing the rounds to kill time.

Strake: "Go away."

"Hey, I got a question about-"

"Want to see where that robot sticks WoundTac next?" He hauled his knife out.

So, I went to see Varius and Marece. They each had a bed in the room as a bunk setup, and a desk was on the other side. Varius was reading something; Marece was just curled up facing the wall.

"Go away," Marece said.

"Nah, Strake tried that one and I only listened 'cuz he pulled a knife on me."

"I have a gun," Marece said.

"Getting shot's like pissing when you're drunk. Once you do it the first time-"

"You obviously have no idea how I feel," Marece turned over; Varius stopped reading and immediately looked uncomfortable. "Which is understandable, because I'm sure I just sound like a sarcastic twit or something, if I'm using that old word right, and you can't feel anything except your own cock in your pants. Meanwhile, look above me, I'm sure Varius can give you a facial expression that explains how I feel just by lying there."

"I read to try and calm him down," Varius said, and maybe for the first time, really frowned. "Hare is very upset." He waved his book. It was a book. A paper book. It was also titled in TIL and I had no idea what it was about.

I sighed and leaned on the doorway. "Look-"

"Are you getting high? I can smell it on you. Look yourself, I was on my first actual assignment out of my probationary period. I was actually going to do something as opposed to just tagging along with people who always wanted to do every tiny little appropriate thing, because Hener spend so much time trying to follow regulations based on Tark stuff, and I was going to find out what the secret is with this strange wolf and all the other people who disappeared. I didn't find out either thing, the strange wolf is some kind of crude asshole with an inconsolable libido and a broken arkanic ability that is 'harmless' and yet..." He took his turn to sigh. "It doesn't help that you're attractive."

"Do you really think so, or am I making you think so?"

"Do you_think I'm attractive? Because I think you do, because I feel you do, and you wouldn't know any of that if I didn't tell you. And now, because I felt that feeling and decided to go go along with you instead of trying to goad you into some arduous trip to The Temple of Arias so Hener can do things that probably involve vivisection even though this is the 2600s, _I don't have a job anymore."

"I lend you money," Varius offered.

Oof, there's that face-buzz of the weed coming up. "I had a feeling you weren't just some random person, so I wasn't going to go fuck someone who was tracking me, or stalking me, or whatever. On the other hand, keeping people you don't trust close enough to keep an eye on them seems smart, so much that I invited you to come along with me. So maybe I'm just dumb. Sorry if I didn't put out."

"I don't know if I want you to put out with me. Put out? Do you mean have sex? Do you like people like me? You looked at me funny when you saw me naked."

"I've never been with anyone like you, so I don't know. I fucked the first girl in my life a few days ago, and that was okay. I dunno if I'd do it again. Just isn't the tail-tingling kind of thing I usually get out of someone giving me tearful puppy eyes while they gag on my dick."

He snorted and looked away. "Extremely crude," he said. I didn't need some mysterious empathic sense to know he was feeling aroused. I could see him cover his groin, and rub slightly.

"Is not... is it roasting?"

I stared at Varius. "What?"

"When you, make up for better...," he then angrily said something in TIL.

"Do you mean boasting?"

"Wolf is not boasting, he is mean fuck," Varius nodded towards Marece.

"Well unlike you," and Marece seemed to refer to Varius using TIL and not his name, "I like to be the mean fuck! Two mean fucks together is not fun."

I felt a bit dazed, and not just from the drugs. Marece was a problem. On the other hand, he did save my life.

The hare sighed. "By the way, I am very upset because perhaps I should be doing something about the space pirate whose ship has its cock stuck up our ship's asshole at the moment. I don't care if you're related to each other! He's a criminal!"

"So are we, you think we paid for that stuff?" I gestured towards the crates. Marece's eyes went big. "Don't go talk to Strake about it, he'll probably turn you into a rabbit sandwich. Look, I'll handle Buck, otherwise known as Xyrex, alright? I'm sure he'll give us a pass on account of my irresistible charm."

"You're as charming as a," and he made a flutey growl of TIL. "You aren't even wearing a shirt," Marece huffed, and rolled back away to face the wall.

--

Okay, hour's up. Time to go negotiate our release with the dread pirate Xyrex.Actually, I wasn't intending to negotiate anything. I assumed he'd let us go. I mean, why wouldn't he let us go? He didn't interdict us for any real reason, except to see me. This is the sort of thing I think when I'm horny and stoned.

I got his ship's emergency airlock open, and didn't find any surprises like 'it wasn't pressurized on the other side'. I didn't even find any surprises with the ship itself. It seemed just slightly smaller than Mike's; less of a cargo area, and it was designed more like a cargo 'pit'. The layout wasn't immensely different - the central area of the ship was the lounge space and there were rooms off either side, and the cockpit up front. My augments let me see the two side by side and his ship was definitely about the same size, so the loss of interior space was probably made up by something that justified what Mike said about it being expensive to run.

Where there would have been the captain's room and then where Mike's was, there was only one door. It was currently open, and music came out. Earth music. Jazzy, but rock, and with inscrutable lyrics. He was listening to Emerson, Lake, and Palmer.

The room was themed. It looked like it was paneled with wood, the bed was a canopy bed, the sitting chair for the desk was turned wood. The bed had opulent cushions on it, pillows with satin frills. There was a small window in my 'quarters' on Mike's ship; in this case, it was framed as a porthole. The lighting came from fake candle hurricane lamps. There was an oriental rug on the ground. There was a pair of fancy cutlasses on the headboard in an X.

And there was Buck. He was wearing the pirate shirt, the vest, the fold-top-yet-futuristic boots, the gloves, and no pants. Or underwear. He also had a bottle of rum open on the night-stand, and it looked ornate, so it was probably expensive. I could smell it.

"Jesus, people have been calling me Captain Wolf and I just look like a dungeon lord or something, you're the real fucking dread pirate Xyrex." I was going to try that out on him. "And I've uh, come to negotiate a truce, or a release, or something."

"You want to negotiate your release?" He said, slurring his words. "When have you ever negotiated_your _release?"

"Oh come on, are you really gonna play pirate so hard that you get trashed on rum? You're still attached to my ship."

"Your _fox's_ship."

"He's not my fox. He's just 'a' fox."

"Uh-huh," he grunted, heavy-eyed. "I got the idea from you and your stupid club, and all those stupid themed sex rooms you charged out the ass for. I went there once and I felt like a wolf-shaped piece of meat."

I felt a bit paranoid and a lot like I was going to burst out laughing any second. I sauntered up to the bed. "You are a wolf shaped piece of meat. You don't have any pants, I don't have a shirt, we make one," I held up a finger, "complete asshole wolf all in-"

He swiped the bottle off the table and pounced up to his feet on the bed so fast I wasn't sure if my implants were glitching. He hurled the bottle at my head and only missed because I'd swung an arm back to try and balance while jumping backwards, bashed it into the bedpost, and must have flinched out of bottle trajectory. The bottle hurtled across the room and smashed into the door jamb with a splatter of glass and rum. When I looked back, he'd swiped a sword up from the headboard and had it in hand.

He thrust forward. "KNEEL," he snarled_._

_ _

Stupefied, I dropped to my knees. He kept the tip of the sword under my chin, and prodded me with it. He did something with the handle, and two extra blades popped out from the hilt - no, two plasma jets shot out from the hilt - and a high-tension charge whine crescendoed up.

"I'm not trashed on anything." He leaned forward and huffed. "I fucking swished it and spat it back into the bottle. Just in case you got close before I got smart. Now, you tell me what the fuck you are really doing out here."

"Or what, you're gonna cut my head off?" I really didn't want to laugh and I really couldn't stop feeling like I would.

"No. I'll stab you in the voice box and shock you until it burns the nerves out. Then, you won't be able to talk." He did not sound drunk in the slightest, nor did he sway, wobble, or anything similar. "You went to see Harley at that station. He paid you to do something. What'd he pay you?"

"He didn't pay me anything, it was that tiger's job, he went to Earth and bought some fucking weed, he has Carsen's disease, how do you even know Harley? Is it from that fucking migratory-"

"I know who Harley Benson is. Everyone in Lainsville did. We had one of his consulting company guys come and work our finances back at HiPer Auto. They were really good. The lion came by to watch because the consultant was new and he sat in the back of the room like a fucking elementary school principal observing a naughty class and he actually scared one of the shop guys enough that he went home for the day during a coffee break. Plus, he came to car shows. He liked expensive luxury shit. He wasn't in my wave of the migration. Obviously he was in another wave, and he seems to be doing a different kind of _consulting_these days because you don't get rich like him doing normal business. This isn't late stage capitalism."

"I don't have anything to do with what Harley did or does! And I swear, it was just some fucking weed! I know weed."

"I know you're on weed right now. It's that fox, isn't it? He looks like a stoner. He has a Rush 2112 teeshirt on. I'm listening to 'Tarkus' by ELP right now; maybe I oughta go talk to him next." This was not said in a pleasant way. "What did the lion give you?"

"Fuck, fuck, don't cut me again, I already had that hell's angel stripey cat fucking scratching me up with his undead weirdo knife!" Now I was terrified and paranoid. This was not a game. This was not Buck with his pirate sword in his wife's bedroom threatening me with it while he was drunk on rum because he was dressed like a pirate and having fun. This was Buck with a pirate sword threatening me because Buck was actually a pirate. "You won't believe me if I tell you! And I'd show you but it's in the other ship!"

"You think I wouldn't believe my own brother?" He grinned, except it was a snarl.

"No! I wouldn't believe my own brother if I had a knife to his fucking throat! Sword! A sword to his throat! Harley gave me a deed key to some fucking space station somewhere!"

Buck furrowed his brow even further, twitched his lip. "Are you serious?"

"Yes! I thought it was a fuckin' thumb drive or something! What the fuck do you need a thumb drive for, it's the future, I can watch porn inside my eyeballs!"

He gruffed and pulled the sword away, then turned and tossed it onto the headboard. It landed perfectly back into the X. There was no way he did that without looking; there must have been some kind of little trick. He then climbed down off the bed, walked over towards the door, and kicked at the biggest piece of the bottle. He then waved at the door panel. "I made a mess. Clean it up, please," he said, in a weirdly nice voice. A small hatch opened and a dome-shaped cleaning robot came out, whirred across the lounge, and started to slurp up the mess. Buck came back to me and patted me between the ears. "Good wolf."

"I really am serious. He told me I could use it more than he could. I don't know what the fuck that means."

"Whatever, we can talk about it later," he said, and impatiently watched the robot. "I didn't sit around with my pants off for nothing."

"I thought you were being drunk," I said.

"I'm not drunk," he laughed, then breathed in my face. A bit of liquor, though not the steamy mess of someone who was drunk. "I really didn't have any. I really was waiting for you to come over so I could squeeze something out of you. A space station, though? I go through all this shit and get my leg chopped off and my eye slashed out and some Sere Khan wannabe gives you a space station?"

"Sere Khan was a tiger. And yeah, and I didn't do anything for it. I swear. I don't like the idea of it, something's wrong, Harley and I, we go back a while and we like sticking it to each other for fun, but it was usually around his tarty guitar-playing zebra husband concubine whatever." I continued being panicked.

"Come off it, I'm not gonna stab you or anything anymore. Alright, little buddy, you can finish cleaning out there," he said, walked up to the robot, and nudged it out the door before closing it. "He had a zebra? Well, not anymore. No one has anything they had back then, anymore."

I sat down on the edge of the bed, leaned over, and put my head into my hands. "Oww. Sorry, it's my shoulder. Tally told me not to use it, so of course, I'm using it for everything."

"Yeah, you're real sorry I shot you, huh," he laughed. "You actually want a drink?" He pulled out something else, which looked like a combination of nuclear green Prak stuff and that purple stuff. He poured himself a narrow shooter of it.

"What if I'm not in the mood?"

He shrugged. "Maybe I'm just fooling around." Despite what he said, he drank it. "But, you have crates of Prak extract on your ship, and you were indented on a Prak farm. And I need a little something because you know what? This isn't easy. I'm not gonna just let you go. If someone finds out I interdicted some random ship and then just walked away, how's that make me look? What kind of deal did I just make?"

"You can't have my space station. I don't even have my space station yet! I haven't even _seen_my space station. I can't even believe I'm having this conversation," I said, and stood up, then paced.

"I got an idea," he said, "Go open that wardrobe." He gestured at one of two big wooden wardrobes in the room.

"Nothing you have in a wardrobe is gonna make me give you my fucking space station. Is this a thing?" Shut up you idiot, stop saying it over and over. I looked over at the drink. "How illegal or legal is this Prak stuff anyway? You can't tell me you can just buy an aphrodisiac everywhere with no consequences. I don't care if I did it already."

"You have two Hener Selnari on your ship and you're asking if you can buy _sex drugs_without consequence? They go to the church of sex. They literally have sex in church. Regular adult people sex, not like that Catholic shit from Earth. Regular Selnari have sex, too, a lot. In case you never noticed, Earth was a shithole. Go open the fucking wardrobe or I'm getting the sword out again." He sat aside on one of the leather-seated chairs, presenting himself. His cock had been half-hard the whole time, demonstrating the tattoo he didn't want to tell anyone about. A red dragon, wound around the black shaft. While he sat there, his shaft abruptly rose up to full erection, and he tilted his head back with a huff. "Too slow. En-garde," he grunted.

I rolled my eyes and got up, then opened the wardrobe. I pulled the fancy and old wooden doors open, and it beeped and moved towards me slightly, then opened itself the rest of the way. It was a walk-in wardrobe, and it was full of pirate clothes. Mostly leather pirate clothes. I sputtered and grinned. "I thought I was fucking mental over this kind of stuff. You? You always acted pissy about kink stuff. You'd do it all by yourself. Grump grump I'm a fucking wolf who doesn't belong here, stomping around and walking out of rooms without saying anything and shit."

He reached back and snapped his fingerpads. The sword leaped off the wall and flung right into his hand. No wonder he wore fingerless gloves. That was a real trick. "I'm horny, and I have two swords, and you're gonna do what I say. And what I say is, you need to make me feel under-dressed. You're good at that. See that black outfit? Coat, hat, gloves. Put it on."

I want to stress that everything I'd ever seen about Xyrex was that he looked like a futuristic space pirate, either in a mix of helmet and 'officer captain' leathers, or in an entire armor rig like he'd come into the ship wearing. This was Buck. There was no other theme of stuff beyond pirate- it was just variations, red, red and black, black. In particular, there was a leather tricorn hat and a traditional black captain's coat with gold embroidery highlights and brass buttons, and a pair of dress leather gloves tucked into a pocket. Front and center. He'd laid it out for me, I knew it. And that wasn't just the pot paranoia.

I took the coat out and slipped into it, and... it fit. Buck was shorter than me, though a bit more muscular. My shoulder hurt putting it on, and frankly, I didn't care because I could see myself in a dressing mirror and this was not halloween store costume stuff. This was expensive, heavy, supple leather. It smelled great. I pulled on the gloves and propped the hat onto my head, then turned around feeling powerful.

Buck's reaction was to snort and lift his shoulders slightly, and he looked away. His cock bobbed. "Fuck, this is a bad idea," he said, tapped anxiously on the desk, then his chair arm, then stood up. I stepped forward; he immediately sat back down.

"What's a bad idea?" I felt immediately different. Shirtless, I feel like a wolf. I don't like being nude most of the time for that reason - I like keeping my wolf under tight control. Wearing a full outfit, now I felt powerful. "You're the one who goes after me. You're the one who was irrevocably turned on when you saw me the first time. You're the one who sent me a text message about 'this stupid wolf convention' you'd just heard about, after I fucked you, and after you found out who we really are to each other. You're the one who picked a fight with me every single time we fucked before, including at that wolf convention." As usual, long story.

He almost tipped out of his chair back against the desk. I could see it in his eyes, the instant turn of the tail.

"You told me to put this on, mister pirate wolf. You think I'm gonna say no to someone who shot me and just stuck a sword at my throat? I guess this is how everyone else feels when I make them play dress-up," I said, picked up a boot, and then stepped on his thigh. His cock bucked upwards enough that when it dropped again, it smacked the top of his balls. "I make them play dress-up and they sit there with their heart pounding out of their chest, because maybe this wolf guy isn't gonna be nice, maybe he's not just all talk." I leaned down further, propped my newly leathered arm on top of my knee, and got face to face again.

I noticed something on his desk. He had a few more little reproduction antiquities, and in a fancy metal bejeweled drinking mug, there was a small device that had an arrow pointing towards the end. I'd seen such a thing exactly twice: once earlier, when Strake inspected Buck's ship after we captured him; and once when the bar-rhino Cade plowed me. I reached over and plucked it out of the cup, and showed it to him. "Come on," he groaned, and turned his head away. I grabbed him by the neck and underside of his jaw, and made him look at it, then rubbed his nose against it until he let out a struggle-growl.

"Yeah, we've really beat around the bush, haven't we?" My augments identified it as a Syntrillix Image-Swarm and connected up. ["NO DATA. READY."] I flicked it with my wrist and the drones flung out and quickly spun up, spreading out in space. Buck's eyes flicked around at the softly whirring cameras, and I could feel his heart pound up through his jugular vein. I leaned down again. "Now I want another kiss. And if you want to go on record biting my face, well," I tightened my grip and I watched his lips curl back and his heart pound harder. Then I leaned in, and licked all around his muzzle, then in between his teeth, crudely flopping his tongue out over one side of his lower jaw, then scooping it back in.

I could, technically, watch the camera feeds. That was extremely distracting, so much so that I ended up just nuzzling him while I navigated it. However, I could move them around, and I splayed them out so they weren't in the way.

I sneered. "All things considered, I think I have the upper hand." I put my boot down and stepped back, then motioned for him to move to the bed. "How about you just bend over. That way, you don't have to see who's fucking you. You can just take it."

"You fucking son of a bitch," he growled, and yet, he kneeled forward onto the bed. "There's... there's some stuff over there." He gestured to the nightstand where he'd picked up the rum. There was more of that green Prak stuff and whatever weird alcoholic drink the purple stuff was. There was an Ease mask, just like I'd used before. There was a lube dispenser.

I stepped over that way, opened my drop-fly and dragged my cock out, and stuck my hand underneath the edge of an upside-down L device. It whirred and splatted quite a big patch of a clear lubricant onto my gloved hand. I picked up the mask, tore off the corner of the plastic, then took it out with my teeth. It was impossible to avoid sniffing a little of it. "Here you go," I said, and mashed it against the end of his snout.

"Unngh, I can do it myself!" He groaned, and yet sniffed hard from it. Then I let go and let it flop to the sultry red bedsheets. I think they were satin, or a satin-like substance.

"It's more fun to do it for you," I said, and smeared the lube all over my shaft. Nice and silicone-oily, so it wouldn't wreck the gloves, not like they were mine to wreck. "I'm not gonna play with your hole. We already had our foreplay on my_ship._" Then I moved up behind him, and started smearing my cockhead around his ring. "You're really gonna take it, aren't you."

"Shut up and just fuck me," he growled, through his teeth, and then let out a profound groan. I could feel his ring loosen and I sunk right through it. "Hhnngh!" Despite the assistance, he curled up a gloved fist and pounded on the bed. So I sent the drone things to get a better look of his facial expression. "Fuck you and this fucking idea!"

"You want what I have? Or you want me? 'Cuz you're getting me. That very serious lion didn't give _you_anything." I started to plunger his hole. The rim, in and out, over and over. Nice and intense. My favorite part, actually. It's like that first moment when they grit their teeth and then utter that huff as they feel the thrill of a little penetration, just over and over.

"I can't believe you're using the fucking camera things! Aaahh, not so fast!" He lurched forward, and I pulled free with a splap. I grabbed him by the hips and pulled him back; he resisted even as he slowly let me pull him back, until I could easily push in again with me standing up against the edge of the bed.

"That's no way to talk to someone important," I said, and stopped with the in and out game. It was time for just in. I got about halfway in before I could feel a little something. I gave him a tap to the side of his hip and he flinched hard, and squeezed around my cock. I tried not to pay too much attention, but I had a camera looking at his face and I could see it wrinkle up. How many people do this? Is this common? This has to be common. This has to be how all porn is done in fucking future space. "And how important am I? You tell me, you followed me from the fanciest fucking station in the galaxy."

"Can't you let me get used to it?" He groaned again. So I reached around and felt for his cock. I could have played a drum solo with that stick. Then he started to lurch away again.

"What was that? I heard a little whimpering noise," I said, and moved with him. He actually tried to crawl forward on the bed, so I just pinned him down flat. That really tightened him up, though he groaned loudly, and that hot throb and squeeze was not a painful cramp. "Try that again, with a little more politeness. After all, we're on your ship, but you're the fuckin' visitor. Say, 'Please, Captain Wolf'."

"No," he grunted.

READING STOP

I grabbed him by his scruff, shook it, and let go. "C'mon. You got to shoot me, throw a rum bottle at my head, and stick a sword in my face. All I get to do is stick my cock in your ass while I'm wearing your fucking clothes."

"Unnngghh, please, Captain Wolf!" he groaned, and I hunkered right down against him as I pulled back. I grabbed along his loose pirate-shirted arm, over his half-gloved hand, and then entwined my fingers with his.

"Aww, how sweet," I said, and maneuvered the cameras closer. There was no good way to see the 'action' with me flat on top of him. So what? Raw hardcore is overrated. I moved my muzzle down near his ear. I also got a good shot that way - my three-pointed hat, wolf ear, my snout near his, licking and nudging it when he tried to flip it away. "Here you go, since you asked so nicely." I then moved forward. The real trick with sex is that sometimes, you want to use your fuck muscles, your glutes, pump your hips forward. Other times, you use your whole body. You rock at your knees. You let your weight move you. That's expert-level fucking. You can be real subtle and yet it's unstoppable.

_ _

He was breathing hard, and as much as he had a wrinkled and snarly wolf face on, he also drooled and pawed around at the sheets, his hand that wasn't holding mine. I moved my supporting arm underneath him, turned it over, and felt up his chest. I could feel him squeeze and groan again. I knew he liked that. He loved being held from behind while being fucked. And sleeping, too. I can be nice, sometimes. "It wouldn't be a good idea to let your crew, your mates, whatever the fuck you call them, do this. Would it? Nah, it wouldn't."

"Shut up..." he grunted.

"I like the sound of Captain Wolf, though. And when you said it, I think you like it too. Too bad we're not like everyone else around here. I bet you'd like to feel how I feel about fucking you. I know how you feel, though. I don't need some stupid magic telepathy shit to tell you're about to cum."

"Shut, up!" he grunted, again.

I stopped moving. He was breathing extra hard, and finally wrenched his hand out from my grip. I held his wrist with my left hand, he made a fist, and tugged. I really wish he didn't do that, ungh. "Your captain wants proof," I said, and I caught him rolling his eyes on one of the camera views. Rolling his eyes with that twitch of his muzzle that said he was getting a stun right to his prostate whenever he tensed. I started to lift up. "Come on, I got you," I said, and held tighter around his chest. "Pull up your fucking knees. That's it."

"Rrrrhhh, ahh, don't you ever stop talking?!"

It didn't matter what he said, he was willingly getting up on his knees, and soon I could get a nice view with the camera drones as well as look around myself. "You want me to touch it? Or are you gonna cum just from being fucked by your mean ol' brother wolf?"

"Stop it stop it staaaaahh!" He yelled, squeezed his eyes up, and his cock jerked upwards while spunk pumped out. He gritted his teeth, clutched at my arms, and shot again, and again. He barked, he let out about two syllables of a howl, and he kept pumping. I felt him squeeze me and it felt really nice. Really, really nice. More than nice enough.

"There it is," I groaned, into his ear, grunting and trying as hard as I could to not make a complete fool of myself while orgasming inside him. "You gonna keep it in, or shit it out when I pull out?"

Oh god, it felt so good. I didn't pull out right away. After a few moments, his cock bucked hard and just drooled a little more seed, and he lurched forward. I could see into his hole for a moment, before his muscles squeezed it up. He writhed about on the bed, reached back, and felt around the ring. It was slippery with lube, and maybe a dollop of my own spunk. He sunk his fingers in and pulled them back with surprise.

Despite having just orgasmed, I still felt a sexual pang in me. No Prak, either. At the same time, I felt a pain. I groaned, turned and sat, then leaned back onto the bed next to him. He stayed hunched on his forearms, tail swaying now and then, even a twitch as he probably had a little pelvic floor squeeze from all the wolf-cock he'd just been stuffed with. I let mine just flop over onto my thigh. When I went soft, I just went soft without much shrinkage. It's really a pain having seven full thick inches of cock to put into your regular pants when you have to do regular people things. I don't think a lot of men understand that. Seven, because, you know, the extra three are just when it gets hard.

Buck finally rolled over. "I hate you."

I laughed, and then winced. "Oh fuck, my fucking shoulder. You got another bottle of rum?"

"Drink the purple stuff, without putting Prak in it. And didn't you hear what I just said?"

I grabbed for the purple stuff and had a few gulps of it. I meant to sip, but my arm got the better of me so I had a lot. "Gaah, this is like drinking fruit paste and moonshine." Nonetheless, I liked it. "I heard what you said. You hate me so much you tracked me down and boarded my ship and shot me just so you could bend over and cum with my dick up your ass and then tell me you hate me."

He looked stupid, and all of the explosive energy was gone out of him. He scowled, though he couldn't keep it up, and grew a completely stupid grin. I reached over and rubbed his chest. I thought he was going to rip or bite my arm off, the way he flinched and put his arms up and reversed that smile into a snarl... only for him to chest growl and sink back, ribs up, hips tucked back into the bed.

"Yeah, you're just a big, growly wolf who plays dress-up as a pirate," I said, giving him a... I really hate saying it this way... a belly-rub.

He leaned over and tried to chew on the side of my face. "I hate you even more for saying that. It's not fake. I'm not just doing it for the fucking news shows. That started off as an accident, one of those little 'mistakes'."

"Did you really come after me for this?" I gave him a tender squeeze so he knew what 'this' was.

He tucked his chin down towards my chest, and stared at my gloved fingers as they rubbed through his black fur. "Fine, yeah, I really came after you for you. This? I dunno. You have an effect on people. Anyway, I know a lot of stuff."

"Yeah? Tell me some."

Buck rolled away from my hand, and rolled back with a tablet. It was very similar to Strake's. It occurred to me that while people had tablet computers, I didn't really see that many in general, and none of them actually looked like this one. I decided to poke it with my implants. ["UNREGISTERED DEVICE."] I could have done that the whole fucking time!

"That tiger guy? He's dispossessed. It happened on that alternate Selnar during the migration. Also, he died recently, and there's a second network citizen profile with the same name now marked as indenture contracted to one 'Jonathan Haldwell'. That's a really human name. The first one says, 'clerical error'. That's probably going to be a pain for him when he goes to take out a new credit card."

"What else?"

"Marece is a suspended TARE agent for the Hener Consulate. And he has a criminal history. It's expunged, but do you really think anyone deletes anything? No one did back on Earth as soon as we made the internet. Looks like a bunch of white collar fraud. He took a plea deal, in our words, to some minor charge and then suddenly his HSF-TARE profile begins. That looks like a crook turned cop to me."

"Ooh, ooh, I wanna know more, tell me more," I turned, and made a begging gesture, then winced because I was lying on top of my fucking bullet hole son of a goddamn fuck.

"Michael Jasek owns that ship. It used to be owned by one Bly Howath Pel Nar Anick, who was a fox Selnari who died of a heart attack. Amazingly, neither of them have a criminal record, however there's a lot of stuff in here about some kind of robot salvage and resale thing. I guess someone was looking the other way, as that's almost certainly gray or black market shit."

"And the sex horse? Varius?"

"Hener exile. Excommunicated for general disregard. That's basically, 'you don't play by our rules enough, you can find another church'. If anyone does anything actually bad, they really stick it to them. Ahh, a note, he was exchanging money for sex - you know, prostituting - with dislytic humans. That's not bad to regular Selnari, that's just gross."

"What's a dislytic human?"

"A regular human. Like from regular Earth. There are a few of them around. Selnari don't want anything to do with them, and they struggle to integrate in with the Network or the Subnet, which is the Network for people who aren't in the Network. The Tark also don't give a shit about them. You'd think there'd be more, Earth had billions of people on it before it disappeared. I dunno about this current Earth."

"Oh god, information fucking overload," I mumbled, and looked up at the ceiling. Whoo, I'm already a little drunk. I'm not touching more of that stuff. "So what, are you some elite hacker?"

"No. This is a scanbook. Strake has one, too. It's not a Network computer; they're designed for maintenance stuff. One of my crew is really good with this stuff. Someone started your fox's ship up for a few moments a little while back, while it was still in maintenance dock at Daleon, and we pounced on the opportunity to hook up with the computer system since it was outdated. As soon as it left the dock and all the communications from people onboard were running through the comm package, we got access to all the Hener TARE stuff and slurped down everything we could slurp about you guys. I don't work blind. You think I'm going to gank some ship full of random people? Kill some women and children to steal some hipster space rum? No way. I like going after people who kinda deserve it. That way, I get what I want, they get what they deserve, and everyone else likes a vigilante with fashion sense."

I continued to feel woozy. "You didn't drug me did you, I already got high, I don't wanna fucking, be drugged," I chuckled.

"When was the last time you ate? That stuff's sugary and strong."

"Fuck, I dunno. So you hacked into us and found out we're all a bunch of washed up criminals and renegades, and you couldn't wait to get me all riled up so I'd nail you in the ass. In your own bed." I reached over and grabbed the drone container. "C'mon little camera bees or whatever, time to make some honey."

Buck squinted at me. I wasn't too stupefied to recognize hmm, he's fucked as a facial expression, nor was I too drunk to remember. "Funny. You always struck me as the kinda guy to take sex selfies." He reached for it.

My bad arm was in between us. Nevertheless, I reached over and grabbed his balls with my hand and squeezed from the sides until he gagged out a very un-wolflike squeak. "Nuh-uh, remember, you gotta let me go. You can't just suddenly absorb a bunch of renegades like us into your crew. You won't know how to handle all the extra fucking people, and trust me, we're all a bunch of annoying idiots. Plus, Strake's some kinda space monster. So, I take this, and you let me go."

"You're drunk and not thinking clearly."

I squeezed again. Just a little squeeze. If you have balls, you know where I squeezed. His fingers splayed and curled up and he grabbed at my arm. "I don't know anything about anything around here. Location points and a time loop and some shit about Selnari going in time and making me into a sex monster who makes people attracted to him and I got some fucking special agent fired and my pilot's a big scary space monster. Also, that fox has a robot that could break you in half. Don't fuck with me."

He pulled a sword off the headboard - or rather reached up and it leaped off into his hand - and he whipped the blade down to push it next to my cock. "Touche," he said.

I did not breathe.

"You give me half that stuff your space-monster biker kitten has, and I let you go on your way." I squeezed a little, against my better judgment. "Aaahh fuck I'm gonna shit or something! Fine! Fine! You can have the fucking camera drones too!" Ooohh, that was close, but he let go of the sword.

"Too bad you don't get to watch the footage over and over all you want. If you want more, you'll just have to find me." I let go of his balls, got out of bed, tucked the recorder into an inside coat pocket, and bundled my wolf-ass slimy cock back into my pants. Why not ruin some more of my outfit while I'm at it? "I'm taking the coat and hat, too."

"Whatever," he growled, as he sat up. "They're gonna ask questions."

"I got them calling me Captain Wolf already. So I oughta look like it." He stood up, and I got close. "Look, they're gonna ask questions. I always smell like I fuck stuff constantly. Will they smell you on me? Maybe. However, I want to at least keep up a bit of a fucking appearance. So, I need you to hit me as hard as you can in the fuckin' face. Just clock me. We had a fight, we settled it, Strake gives up his crates and you don't space us or blow part of the ship up or stab each one of us with your zappy-sword or what the fuck ever."

"You're drunk."

"I'm not drunk! Fucking punch me! Punch me or I'll upload this shit to the network whatever as soon as you take your wolf dick out of our fucking computer system! Imagine you on the news getting your shit shoved in by another wolf!" It still didn't work, so I shoved him and turned away.

I heard this Boink! sound in my head, my head jerked and twisted, and I staggered and fell onto the floor. After a few moments of seeing some spots, I staggered up. "Wha th... argh!" My mouth filled with the copper tang of blood. My muzzle really, really hurt. I wiped my face - more blood, and wolf spit. And my tongue hurt.

"That's what you get for fucking waggling your tongue around like a hungry puppy dog. Get the fuck out of here. You've got fifteen seconds before I blow the docking clamps." Then, he turned and punched something else - it was one of the ever-present emergency boxes. He snagged the emergency pressure mask from inside and swooped it onto his face, then keyed something in. Then, he pulled something out of a boot and held it up to the ceiling, right underneath a small dome with a little tiny light on it. It was a lighter - he flicked it alight.

["EMERGENCY DOCKING CLAMP RELEASE INITIATED. FIFTEEN SECOND DELAY. WARNING - EMERGENCY AIRLOCK OPEN. WARNING - SAFETY OVERRIDE DUE TO FIRE DETECTION."] Then it started counting.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" I ran for the emergency door. "Hey hey I don't know how to open this thing!" I pounded on what was the door to my own ship. "OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" I got on my implants. ["STRAKE OPEN THE DOOR!!"]

Thank god Strake opened the door. I ran inside and slammed it behind me. I waited. Nothing happened. "Heh wuh gun brawh duh cramsh!" I spat all over him and he sniffed back, white fur splattered with blood. "UNGH! MAH TUMBH!"

"What the fuck happened to you?" The tiger chuffed, and then laughed.

Tally walked right up into my face. "You are injured. Please come with me."

"Naah waahy waahy we ghahh gib himh sumg crayh!"

Strake crossed his arms, curled his tail, and waited. Tally grabbed me. "Please open your mouth. Your tongue has received a serious laceration. Optical scan indicates the wound is of dental origin. One of your caniform bicuspids is loose. You received an impact trauma to the left side of your face. I will need to suture your tongue."

"SUTCHA? STRAYY WE NEE TA.. UNGH STAAPH!" I could not fight Tally off, and he pushed me to sit.

Oh, the implants. ["Strake we have to give him half of your Prak stuff crates you stole from the previous shipment, or he'll blow up our ship. He's hacked into it or something. He'll probably make the core melt down."]

["Did he say that? Also, I didn't steal anything. It was a discrepancy."]

["Don't be a fucking idiot! He's hacked into our ship, he can do whatever he wants! If you could fix it we wouldn't be still floating around in space stuck to him! Give him the fucking crates and he'll let us go! Tally can carry them, he's as strong as a fucking ox!"]

"You are intoxicated. Consumption of mind-altering substances is contraindicated for healing purposes." Such a helpful robot.

"Doo ihh layuhhh! Helph him!" I gestured at Strake.

"Alright, robo-puppy, drop what you're doing with him, he can bleed all over his own dick. Help me with these crates. We're putting half of them in the other ship. If we don't do that, the other ship's wolf will hurt us." Strake used the slow and patronizing tone of voice reserved by jerks and assholes for talking to people with disabilities.

Tally stopped what he was doing with me like I was the least important thing in the world, and went to help Strake. Thankfully, that meant that they could divide and conquer and Tally soon return to me. Just before the robot was going to poke me with an alarming needle - "Cahn yah tehnnunahsh meh?" - there was a thud and the ship lurched.

Moments later: ["MAIN SYSTEMS RESTART IN PROGRESS."] The lights flickered, and the normal lights came back on. ["MAIN SYSTEMS ONLINE. MAINTENANCE REQUIRED. PLEASE CONSULT THE MAINTENANCE MANIFEST."]

Mike squealed. "Yaaaaaaay! And it looks like he didn't break anything! At least not permanently!"

Tally stabbed me with something in the tongue, and in a few moments, I couldn't feel it anymore, along with part of my throat. Then he stabbed me a bunch more times, because I could hear it.

"You have been given a tissue growth accelerator. Please do not consume hot foods or alcohol for twenty four hours," he said. "Please do not engage in activities that may further traumatize your tongue."

"Nah awr evvuh?"

"I'm sorry, I cannot understand you well. Can you repeat that?"

"No."

I walked over to where Strake was sitting in the cockpit, watching as Buck's ship appeared into view again, and then started moving away. The windows had to dim down because of whatever reaction drive it was using. "What the fuck happened to you, anyway?" He said.

Time to use the implant synthesizer. ("I negotiated our release.")

"Yeah, it looks like he negotiated something into your face alright."

("I'm surprised you let half those crates go.")

Strake shrugged. "I'm not. I'm just disappointed. Smaller hustle, not dead due to piracy, what the fuck ever."

("You think he'd kill you?") I said this fully aware that killing Strake would require an irritating amount of effort.

"I don't care what you think you know about him, and I mean, obviously he's one of us so you know him from the before times. There's a very consistent record of Xyrex dispatching people who've crossed him instead of, what's the word they always using? Acquiesce? Big word for a stupid biker tiger, isn't it. He'd kill all of us if it made him look like he came out top. Either he'd take what he wanted, or he'd kill us and take everything."

I wasn't so sure about that. I didn't want to be sure of that, more importantly. ("So that's how things go out here?")

He shrugged again. "Stop asking so many fucking questions."

I decided to go to sleep, because I suddenly had about as much energy as a rock and not being able to talk really put a damper on my socializing.