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 Wouldn t he try to make it to one of the flight bays? Steal a ship?
 Hell, no. He can t pilot a ship unless it s in water. Talos huffed and rolled his eyes.
Humans could be so dense.
Marius looked like he was resisting the urge to do the same.  He doesn t have any ID or
credits. How much trouble can he get into?
 He s a pirate, for Christ s sake. He s a dip, a pickpocket, a thief. Talos s voice
threatened to convert back to a roar, his R s trilling and his pitch dropping three registers
again.  He doesn t need any of his own. By now he probably has half the credits on the
station in his pockets.
 All right, all right. Webb hesitated, looking away as a light flashed off to his right on
a security panel.  There s a disturbance call coming in from a bar in the lower end of the
entertainment sector. Ten credits says it s your missing pirate.
Talos blew out a deep breath and rubbed a hand over his chest to calm down and focus.
 I don t take sucker bets.
 Good policy. Let s hope your precious pirate is still in one piece.
 You should be more worried about your station. He ll be fine. At least until I get my
mitts on him.
Removing his weapon from the desk drawer and attaching it to his belt, Marius pressed
a button on his desktop.  I don t want to know about it, now or later. And if he s going to be
running around the station, he ll have to be run through the sickbay. I know you
decontaminated him, but this is for his sake. Tapping a communications band strapped to
his wrist, Marius added,  I ll alert a team to meet us. See you in three.
After punching off the link with more enthusiasm than necessary, Talos opened a
recessed panel in the wall and removed another sidearm and holster. He d be damned if he
was going to lose his mangy little nance to a drunken brawl on some fucking, dreary outpost
named Pathos.
* * * * *
40 Laura Baumbach
Outside the Pink Tentacle, Marius and Talos were greeted by breaking glass and shouts
of profanity in a number of different languages. The security men accompanying Marius
waded into the free-for-all. Marius followed his men, but Talos hung back, sniffing the air.
Pinpointing his quarry, the hunter skirted the perimeter of the shattered room.
Scenting the air every few paces, he fended off assaults as easily as if they were pestering flies
instead of deadly attacks. When he reached one far corner of the room, he bent down and
peered under one of the few tables left standing. Reaching under the table, he snagged a
familiar boot and dragged the attached body clear of its hiding place.
A drunken smile beamed up at him from a sea of black hair that was dotted with
pinpoints of color as light reflected off the glass beads woven on the underside of Maymon s
braids.
Talos allowed the human to scan his immediate surroundings for a moment before
stepping into the light. The same startled expression he had seen underwater returned to the
young man s dark eyes. Instead, Maymon tilted his head back and gave Talos a thoughtful,
speculative look. He smiled, pipe in one hand, and a drink in the other. His speech was
heavily slurred, but he managed to croak out a greeting of sorts.
 Eh? There you be. Me own fine God of a sea creature. Was wondering where you
were. I ask you, guv, what good s a dream if you can t bloody well make it do what you
bloody want?
Sighing, Talos pulled the pirate upright and Maymon leaned heavily against him.
Stroking a hand down Talos s broad chest, the pirate inadvertently rubbed over the Oracan s
cartilage nubs. A small burst of warmth blossomed behind Talos s sternum, dampening his
anger and making him gasp at the unexpected contact. The pirate didn t know what his
touch was doing, but the soothing gesture impacted the hunter.  What the hell do you think
you re doing, you conniving little shit?
 Just slipped out for a wee bit of a nip. Drowning is harsh on a man.
Talos growled.
 You ll be giving no quarter on this, then?
Glaring, Talos growled,  If that means am I going to go easy on your runaway ass for all
this, he gestured at the fighting and destruction all around them,  the answer s no.
The smoldering ash from the pipe still clutched in Maymon s hand made Talos s nose
burn as the pirate drunkenly waved it in front of his face. He pried it from the pirate s
nerveless fingers and dropped it into a nearby plant.
Maymon reached for it as it sailed by, but his depth perception was off and he missed it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]