Sexy Space Babes - Mechs, Maidens and Macaroons: Chapter Twenty Two

Mark watched with… rather conflicted feelings as Tazek seemed to be raining down what looked like a rather inventive tirade of venomous curses upon her chosen champion.

Now, of course, he could be wrong. The crime lord wasn’t being loud, and the intervening distance as much as the ambient noise of the party meant he wasn’t catching any words, but the expression on her face as much as the gestures she was making gave him some indication of the content of her words.

And that content was undoubtedly unpleasant.

Not that one would be able to tell for all that her bodyguard reacted. The woman stood stock-still as her employer lashed her verbally.

Like a statue.

Though whether that was a result of her power armor muffling her body language, her species not having much in the first place, or because she didn’t care, he didn’t know.

He had his suspicions though. One he hoped heartily he was wrong in but doubted he’d be that lucky.

Still, the power armored woman’s still form stood in direct contrast to Sabine as the French woman emerged from her own seat, her silk toga fluttering about as she practically bounced over to the crime lord.

“Well Tazek dear, it appears I’ll be walking out the victor tonight,” she purred – her words carrying across the distance in the way the alien’s hadn’t but moments ago.

And Mark watched as the glass in Tazek’s hand trembled for a moment, before she forced a reluctant nod. “Aye, that you have. And I’ll be… gracious in defeat. Call my people and we’ll set up a time for another meeting on the topic of supplying your ‘earth league’.”

Sabine nodded, and made to respond, though Mark didn’t hear what was said as he was distracted by the arrival of another party to his side. Kalia Vorn looked almost as conflicted as he felt as she strode up to his side, diminutive stature doing nothing to diminish her aura as she cooly regarded the ongoing talks between Mark’s ‘date’ and the crime lord.

“Do you think she’ll try and weasel out of it?” he asked casually.

Kalia turned her disapproving gaze away to stare up at him. “Weasel?”

“Ah, it’s an animal on Earth. I was basically asking if you thought Tarek will honor the bet?”

Kalia graced him with a small smile before shaking her head. “No, she won’t try and dodge it. Perhaps if this particular bet had been made in a backroom with no witnesses she might, but here and now?” The Vrekian shook her head. “Reneging would tank her reputation. Going forward people will find out if she doesn’t follow through on sending ships to Earth.”

“She’s a criminal though,” he pointed out – even if he already knew the answer, having asked Sabine the same question when she’d presented this plan to him. “Breaking the law is kind of their whole thing.”

“This and that are two very different things.” And he was relieved as Kalia gave him the same answer the spy had. “A reputation for following through with any deals she makes is, in many ways, even more valuable to a woman like Tarek than a more legitimate business woman. People who fail to honor their word in circles like hers don’t tend to last long at all.”

Mark supposed he could see the logic in that.

He was also privately noting that, on the topic of honesty, Kalia hadn’t breathed a word about the match supposedly being thrown. Despite his boss being the proctor for the match. And there was no way she wouldn’t have noticed something her fiancée’s… lover had.

Ugh, that whole thing still felt weird to him, so he tried not to think about it. Still, he was thankful for her silence, silently resolving to do something nice for her at some point. Though what he could do for a woman with more money than he could likely even conceive of, he had no idea.

Cooking was kind of out, given she was already paying him for that service.

And anything more sordid didn’t really seem an option given that she seemed to be loyal to a man that most definitely didn’t reciprocate that feeling.

As far as he could tell.

Perhaps he was wrong… but he doubted it. The way the Nighkru male had spoken of her, there hadn’t been any kind of warmth there. Merely the acknowledgement of an arrangement that seemed entirely a result of business. At least compared to the way the other male had looked at the woman on his arm.

He didn’t have long to dwell on his boss’s complicated love life though, as Sabine sauntered over, the high of victory radiating off her like a beacon, eyes sparkling with unrestrained glee as she closed the distance.

Mark watched over her shoulder as Tarek and the mystery bodyguard wandered off – and though he was tempted to follow, he resisted the urge.

Instead, he turned his attention to Sabine as she beamed at him. “Mon chéri, I hope you now see that there was no need to worry. My bet nor my boasting was made without cause.”

It was all Mark could do not puncture the woman’s words by relaying Lirath’s suspicions to her that she’d effectively been allowed to win.

God it was tempting though.

And it was a temptation he clearly wasn’t alone in feeling as Kalia regarded the other woman.

“A hard fought victory, Mrs. Moreau.” Was he crazy or had Kalia leaned into him as she said that? “I do believe you’d do rather well on the rookie circuits.”

Now, while Mark was hardly the most socially savvy man around, he knew a backhanded insult when he heard one. And ignoring his employer’s second sentence – which spoke for itself – the fact that she’d chosen to address his date by her second name was rather telling.

Krenheim held to predominantly Consortium cultural mores after all – and in the Consortium, the notion of being better known by one’s family name was something of an insult. It was an implication that the person themselves had no value and merely coasted on the profits of their forebearers.

And if he could notice something like that, then Sabine definitely would. Though if she was offended at all, it didn’t show for even a moment as she merely smiled at his boss.

It might have made for a somewhat amusing image – the five foot Vrekian glaring up at the significantly taller human woman, but Kalia had enough of a presence that in spite of the height difference she managed to make her displeasure clear.

“That’s high praise coming from a pilot as esteemed as yourself, Mistress Kalia,” Sabine said with all outward appearances of truthfulness. “Perhaps in time you might come see me perform on Earth when the occasion finally comes for us to form our own league. Something that with tonight’s victory will appear sooner that it might have otherwise.”

Kalia seemed a little thrown off by the open and friendly attitude of the other woman. As was Mark actually. Kalia’s opening would have been a clear opportunity for Sabine to respond in kind by pointing out that many of the Vrekian’s own advantages were a result of her privileged parentage.

“…Perhaps,” Kalia finally allowed.

“Great!” Sabine said, before the other woman could continue, she had seamlessly wrapped herself around Mark’s other arm. “And though I’d be delighted to speak to a legend like yourself on more of the minutiae of piloting, I find that in the wake of my victory I’m feeling in a somewhat celebratory mood.”

Her intentions weren’t subtle as her skillful fingers danced over Mark’s absurd outfit in ways that he found himself… responding to despite his best efforts not to. Which was kind of impressive in that light, especially given that his rather annoyed boss was right next to him.

“What do you say, love? How about we slip away back to my place for a private re-rendition of that little fight just now?” Her grin widened, a predatory edge to her tone, her breath warm against his ear as her hand slipped into his pants and gripped something that had no business flaring to life right now. “Just you. And me.”

Not with his boss right there! And… other reasons!

Like the fact that a number of other party goers were smirking – or at least the women were - as they glanced in his direction.

Damn these tight pants!

It didn’t help that he had no idea if she was being genuine right now in her desire to ‘celebrate’ their success or if she was just trying to get him away from here so they could debrief.

And not in the fun way.

Fortunately for his momentarily flaring libido, Kalia’s voice sliced through Sabine’s flirty demeanor. “You’ll need to hold off on that Mrs. Moreau. For at least the next few minutes, I’m afraid I’ve volunteered your date for work in our hostesses’ kitchen.”

Sabine once more seemed unbothered though, her hands not stopping their motions she glanced up at Mark. “Ah, I see that our hostess was slyer than we thought, love. She knew you would have to decline her request out of respect for your employer – so she made sure to have her at hand to bypass that restriction as well as supply ingredients. Clever girl.”

Mark exhaled through his nose, trying hard not to react to the spy’s ministrations or tone. “I suppose she is, though it doesn’t really matter either way.”

He felt a little satisfaction in the way the spy stiffened slightly as he went off script. Ignoring Kalia’s confused, then pleased expression, as he very deliberately disentangled himself from his date, he turned to face his fellow human.

“Oh, why’s that?” Sabine asked with innocent curiosity.

“Because we’re through,” he said before punching her in the gut with enough force to make her bowl over and slump to the ground with a rather satisfying wheeze.

Despite the satisfaction he felt at doing so… he also felt kind of bad. Francis certainly wouldn’t have been impressed with him striking a woman like this. Even if said woman was actually a deadly spy who was likely far more dangerous to Mark in a hand to hand fight than Mark was to her.

That at least was partially why he’d felt justified in doing it.

…That was also at least partially why he’d slugged in the gut. An old backhand to the face might have allowed for a bit more visceral visual flare, but he was pretty sure she’d have been able to dodge a blow like that.

A gut punch, not so much.

And he still got the satisfaction of seeing her momentary surprise before she folded. As well as the surprise – and anger – in her eyes as she glared up at him from the floor.

Ignoring the quiet, ‘ancestor’s excrement’ from Kalia’s direction and the many eyes now on them, he spoke.

“Tonight was the last time I let you use me!” Mark straightened, his voice firm and cutting through the tension like a knife as he played up his role with some genuine feeling and a lot of ham. “I genuinely thought you’d changed. That you’d grown up. But no, tonight was just like it used to be. You tossed me into that bet like you didn’t even care. Like I was just some cheap wager for you.”

The crowd was drinking it up as he continued.

“Well I’m not just some cheap wager. I’m a proud independent man who doesn't need a woman like you!” he bellowed, his voice booming over the stunned crowd. “And I’m done being your plaything!”

He saw it.

Saw the moment Sabine realized that he was both being truthful and lying through his teeth. He was done being used by her. This really was going to be his ‘last job’. There wasn’t going to be ‘another thing’ or ‘one small detail’. This was it. And he wasn’t afraid to burn bridges to make sure that was the case.

And for a moment, there was just a hint of a nod, barely perceptable…

…Before it was shrouded by what he liked to think was fake rage.

The alternative, that she really was pissed, would make him a little worried for his future health.

The human woman clambered to her feet on unsteady legs, looked at him, looked around the room, looked at a very smug Kalia…

“Fine,” she hissed venomously. “I don’t need you anyway, Satyr.”

Then she stormed off, feet clicking loudly with every step as she disappeared into the silent crowd.

A crowd that didn’t stay silent for long though, as moments later the conversation around the room continued as the onlookers realized the momentary ‘entertainment’ was gone. Though he winced a little as he noticed a few women without men on their arms slowly meandering in his direction.

Fortunately, he had a shield.

“Well, that’s one way to sever ties,” Kalia said, her voice tinged with amusement as she touched his elbow lightly, guiding him away.

Mark shrugged. “It needed to be done.”

“And with such style,” Kalia chuckled, seemingly delighted. “Though given your previous ride here is likely leaving as we speak, would you wish for me to convey you home?”

“Oh?” Mark eyed her. “My previous date has scarcely left the building and you’re already moving to take me home? How bold, Kalia.”

Kalia took a moment to catch his meaning, before her eyes widened and she coughed, her already dark red features darkening. “No! No! I didn’t mean it like that. Truly.”

He laughed. “No, I know you didn’t and thank you for the offer. Though even if we both know you’re just being a sweetheart, would your fiancée be fine with you offering me a ride home?”

Kalia paused, eyes moving through the crowd before alighting on a particular pair.

Lirath was in one of the corners of the room, slow-dancing with Nemel, their movements a lazy waltz under the holographic river’s glow as her purple skin pressed against his silver frame.

It wasn’t showy or ostentatious. Barely more than two people swaying together. The two lovers moved as if they were the only two in the room. And given the way they stared into each other’s eyes, moving as one, clearly they didn’t care if they weren’t.

Mark couldn’t help but feel a small pang in his chest as he glanced away from the sweet scene to Kalia.

“He’ll be leaving separately. It’ll be fine,” she said, her voice tight, a hint of bitterness seeping through as she gazed at the pair.

There was no missing the ache of longing in her eyes.

Mark nodded – and though he wanted to say something, he knew it was both not his place and, more importantly, he didn’t know what one even could say.

“Well, I’ll happily take you up on that offer. I’ve no doubt, even if it’s brief, the trip home will be much more enjoyable than the trip here.”

Kalia laughed lightly, though it was clear her heart wasn’t in it. “Come on, I’ll direct you to the kitchens. The drone from my estate should have arrived by now – and I can promise you that neither of us wants our hostess hunting us down.”

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Sabine Moreau slipped into the plush interior of her – rented - automated limo, a furious expression on her face as she ignored the scandaled whispers of those who watched her depart.

It was only as the door hissed shut behind her that she straightened up and stopped cradling her gut.

Which was not to say she was no longer in pain.

“Kid’s got a hell of a punch,” she muttered as she pulled off the uncomfortable cuirass she’d been forced to wear all evening.

No, her gut still hurt, it was just that the pain wasn’t at a level where she couldn’t ignore it.

It’d take a lot more than a sloppy gut blow to do more than that. To that end, the pain was a minor inconvenience, one she’d played up to allow the narrative Mark had created to percolate through the party. Now that she was out of sight, she dismissed it with a wry smirk, her mission’s success outweighing any discomfort.

The objective for the evening was complete - Tazek Yutul’s reluctant agreement to supply Earth’s mech-fighting league had been all but secured – with her agreeing to do so in such a public place.

Certainly, Sabine had little doubt that the smuggler would try to hem and haw on the details, but ultimately Sabine believed she’d be able to bring the woman around to a level of support that was adequate for their needs.

Earth’s many resistance movements hardly lacked for deep pockets after all – and once the Nighkru got over her initial discomfort at being forced to set up a supply chain for Earth, she’d come to value her new ‘clients’.

…Or she’d be replaced by someone more amenable once Earth had more assets inside Tarek’s organization and a better understanding of how it was run. Because for all that Earth might have been new to the concept of interstellar smuggling, they had plenty of people with lots of experience with the more terrestrial and aquatic varieties – and they had ample reason to learn more about this new methodology.

Sitting back, she allowed herself to breathe in relief as the limo pulled away – and she departed the party in ‘shame’.

And that was a little annoying. Mark had definitely slipped her hook with that move. With it being so public, it would be strange if he were seen on her arm again. If nothing else, it’d lower his value in the eyes of anyone she intended to honeypot with him.

Just as self-respect was sexy, the opposite was not.

Still, the public’s memory fickle and time would work to undo the damage he’d do to his own brand by being seen with her again. To that end, while she’d seen the blow coming, she’d allow it.

It’d been a calculated concession, giving him the satisfaction of ‘getting revenge’ would work to ease the enmity festering between them.

“A shame though,” she murmured.

She really had been honest in her invitation for him to join her for some post-mission celebrations. She was a woman with needs after all and few things got her going quite like a successful operation.

And he’d have done perfectly as a tool to relieve some of the tension built up during – given her tutelage on the subject. He really had been a quick learner.

Alas, it seemed she was not to benefit. Her lips twisted into a pout, at the thought of the many aliens who would no doubt reap the benefits of her work.

“Such a waste,” she sighed, leaning back against the seat, her fingers tracing the edge of her discarded cuirass.

The memory of his touch, his eager responses, stirred a fleeting heat in her core.

For a moment, she considered hitting a bar, the idea of ensnaring another man to salve her ego tempting her for a moment. Only for a moment though. Because what if she failed to capture anyone?

It was a thought that she struggled to envision, but she knew it was a reality. Just as a handsome man on Earth couldn’t be guaranteed to score every time he went out on the town – out here in space the same was well true of her.

No, the thought of trawling some bar and desperately fighting for some alien’s attention for hours when it might not even pay off would sour the evening’s victory.

It seemed she’d once more be alone with a toy tonight and the bath tonight.

Hardly the most graceful of endings to a successful mission, but such was life.

She sank deeper into the seat, the limo’s hum a soothing lullaby as the autodriver charted the course back to her hotel.

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Kalia Vorn stepped into her mansion’s foyer, sending a final thankful wave back in the direction of her chauffeur for the evening. They’d already dropped off, Mark.

And now she was alone.

Or at least, as alone as she got in her own home – as she saw the figures of both Tenir  and Saria walking up to her.

Some days, that fact would annoy her. Everyone needed alone time after all. And being forced to be watched round the clock by a security team could tire anyone out. The constant presence of either Saria or Tenir did not help with that – no matter how much she loved both of them.

Separately.

Together, they were a pain in her ass.

For now though, she found herself thankful for the distraction they represented.

They’d probably had another argument they wanted her to lay in on. Maybe about Mark?

The thought made her smirk, though that smirk faded slightly as she caught sight of her two friend’s expressions.

“Kalia, thanks the ancestor’s you’re here,” her friend stammered as she strode up to her, voice tight.

Kalia frowned, all thoughts of her rather sad love life and the party disappearing in favor of… whatever this was. “Tenir? Saria? What’s up?”

Both women glanced at each other, before Saria spoke. “The hangar’s locked down.”

Locked- what!?

“How? Why?” Kalia hissed.

Tenir winced. “It’s… your mother’s people. They told your security team to stand down. Or rather, your security team is your mother’s security team and they’ve been folded back in.”

Kalia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Why would she do that!? Why wouldn’t you message me?”

Saria shrugged. “We tried.”

“I think your mother blocked any outgoing messages,” Tenir said.

“Fuck.” Kalia paced backwards and forwards. “I need to talk to her. Find out what this is about.”

Saria chuckled, but there was no humor. “Well, fortunately for you then, she’s in the dining room. She told us to send you over to her the moment you got back from the party.”

Kalia had barely heard a word before she was striding in the direction of the dining room…