Happy Friday, everyone! Time for another episode of Dragon Ascending.  Last week Len found out what the Fallons wanted on Sandstorm. This week Arji tells Kresho Len’s story.  As I mentioned, I am now attempting to post episodes at lengths that will be better suited for the flow of the story and enhance your reading pleasure. Some will be slightly shorter, some will be longer. I hope you find this switch-up helpful. I hope you’re enjoying Dragon Ascending, the sequel to Piloting Fury, as much as I’m enjoying sharing it with you. As always, I love it when you share my work with your reading friends, so feel free. In the meantime, enjoy!

If you missed the previous episode of Dragon Ascending follow the link for a catch-up. If you wish to start from the beginning, of Dragon Ascending. Follow the link.  

For those of you who would like to read the complete novel, Piloting Fury, book one of the Sentient Ships series, follow the link to the first instalment.

Dragon Ascending: Book 2 of the Sentient Ship Series

On a desolate junkyard of a planetoid, scavenger Lenore Felish, disturbs something slumbering in a remote salvage dump and uncovers secrets of a tragic past and of the surprising role she must play in the terrifying present she now faces.

Robbed of her inheritance after her tyrannical father’s death, Tenad Fallon is out for revenge on her half-brothers, one who happens to be the sentient ship, Fury. Fury, with his human companions, Richard Manning and Diana McAllister, has his own agenda – finding the lost sentient ships and ending the scourge of indentured servitude in Authority space.

Dragon Ascending Part 46: Girlie

He grabbed Arji by the collar and pulled him up on his tiptoes until they were nose to nose. “If you fucked her, I will break every bone in your goddamn body.” Suddenly Kresho was unable to breathe, unable to think of anything but the silver-gray eyes glaring out at him. He let go and gave the man a hard shove. “Fuck, Arji, she’s just a little girl. Just a little girl.” His voice broke with the last word, and he grabbed the glass setting on the table, not caring who it belonged to downing it in one.

“What the hell’s the matter with you Ivanovic? Are you talking about Girlie-Girl? She’s twenty-fucking-four if she’s a day, and plenty old enough to make up her own goddamn mind who she fucks.” He shoved Kresho back hard, oblivious to the fact that he outweighed the barkeep by a good twenty kilos and most of it muscle. Then he straightened his shirt and growled. “Hell, anybody who could reroute a goddamned supply drone, stow away and bloody survive the trip from Tak Minor has earned the right to do whatever the bloody goddamn she wants.” He shook his head, staring at the door, Len had just left through. “That one is a lot of things, but she’s never been a little girl and she’s old enough to -”

Kresho barely made it outside before he dropped to his knees in the sand, too busy puking his guts to hear the rest of what Arji spouted. None of it mattered. None of it, but that she was alive, and she believed he’d betrayed her. He retched again when he thought of her somehow rigging a supply drone, a fucking supply drone! And managing the trip from Tak Minor to Sandstorm. And how long had the girl had to survive in that bloody freezer with no one but the corpse of her mother while she waited for the drone, then reprogrammed it. Jesu Vaticanus, the girl couldn’t have been more than thirteen! He retched again and again until his eyes watered and every muscle felt like it would break with each dry heave.
He would have come back for her. Goddamn it, he did come back for her, but far too late. When he was finally able to get back to Tak Minor, he found no one, only Janesha frozen in the ice. There was no sign of Len. And really, it had been so long, so very long, by then. He’d heard through the grapevine that the science station had been sabotaged and Janesha and Lenore were both dead. Not long after that the station became fully automated, or more than likely just no one bothered with it anymore.

It took him a second to realize Arji was standing in the door watching him. “Jesu Vaticanus, Ivanovic, the goddamn beer ain’t that bad. You okay?”

Kresho spat and wiped a hand across his mouth. For a moment he said nothing. Didn’t think he could talk without puking again.

Arji disappeared and returned with a sealed ration of water, which he handed Kresho. “Sip it slowly. I ain’t wasting good water if you’re just plannin’ to puke it back up. And once your stomach is settled, you best tell me what the hell that was all about.

Inside, Arji settled him in a rickety seat that looked like it might have been on the bridge of a ship at one time, then he commed up front. “Jax, keep Clapper on for a bit. I got some business to tend to.” That done, he turned his attention to Kresho. “Better?” He nodded down at the half empty ration bottle. “Best drink it all. You’ll be dehydrated after heaving up everything like that.” He watched as Kresho obeyed, and then he said. “Tell me.”
Kresho took a couple of deep breaths and tried to gather his thoughts. All he could think about was the young woman glaring from under her hood before she fled into the night.
“The woman, she’s Lenor Felish, isn’t she?”

“She don’t go by that name much around here.” Arji dropped into the matching seat, lit one of his smokes and took a puff. “We called her Girlie when she got here. None of us really thought she was even gonna make it. She shouldn’t have by all appearances, but that’s one tough young woman. She was a scrawny little thing, malnourished, dehydrated and half frozen when we pulled her out of that supply drone. I don’t know how the hell she managed to route it here from Tak Minor, nor how she knew that this was the only place she had a fighting chance of getting to. And that just barely. There she was all laid out in an environmental suit, dead as a sand heap. Her lips were blue as an inso-suit’s lining. We brought her back. It weren’t easy either. Christus and the fucking pope, I had to beat the shit out of her heart, gave the poor thing two broken ribs, but that heart beat and those lungs drew breath, and she’s been Girlie to us all ever since.” He took another puff and blew it out. “Hell, you know we don’t have no kids around here. Nobody wants to bring a sprog into this shithole. Like sentencing them to life in prison, ain’t it? But Girlie, well, we all sorta took to her, helped her when we could,” he grunted a chuckle that came out in a puff of smoke, “when she’d let us. Too independent by half, that one, and she suffered for it more than once, but she’d take no help, didn’t want to be obliging to no one, nor to get attached, I think. Understandable after what she’d been through. Oh, she never talked about it, but word gets round.”

He snuffed out his smoke and lit another. For a moment, he sat smoking in silence, lost in memories that broke Kresho’s heart even to think about. And then he said. “It’s your turn, Ivanovic, don’t think I didn’t see the look on that one’s face before she left. If looks could kill, you’d be a gonner’. You better come clean, and it better be good, or I’ll put the word out, and you won’t be shuttling back to that nice cushy little ship of yours ever again, you got that?”

“You won’t believe me if I tell you,” Kresho said.

Jax stuck her head in with a couple more pints and nodded anxiously back into the bar. “Don’t mean to disturb the party boys, but Tenad Fallon’s looking around for her pet, Ivanovic. ‘F I was you, I’d be for getting my ass out there and making sure it’s a damn good lie you tell her.” Then she ducked out.

“Arji, I promise I didn’t betray Len, I would never have. Until tonight I thought she was dead, and on my watch. And the look on her face when she saw me, well I’m guessing she blames me, but I swear, I couldn’t get to her. I tried, Christu Vaticanus, I tried. She and her mother haunt my nightmares, but I swear to you, I would never ever do anything to hurt that young woman. Now I have to go, or there could be hell for all of us to pay. Fallon thinks I went to see a whore.”

“Go out the back, then, and around. I’ll make sure Tula and Vaness vouch for you. Goddamned good thing I trust you, Ivanovic, or I would knock you on the head and you’d wake up in the middle of the Tak in the Shimmer. I expect answers b‘fore you leave Sandstorm. You fucking got that?” Arji motioned him through the back door with a jerk of his head.

Kresho lingered only long enough to nod his understanding, and his thanks, before he went out into the early evening, bracing for the beginnings of the wind that even with the extra shielding around Sandstorm, managed to filter in. His head was still reeling from what he’d just learned, and it ached from puking his guts. He slipped around the Dust Bowl and in through the front. Goddamns it, now he had one more secret to keep. The last thing in this system he needed was for Tenad or her fucking brother to find out about Len. And he had to find Len. He had to talk to her. He owed her that much. He owed her the truth, though who the fuck would ever believe it? His hand froze against the scanner that slid open the revamped airlock and for a second he thought he’d puke again. Did Ori know about this? Jesu Vaticanus! If she did …

“Oy! Either get your ass in or out, Ivanovic and stop letting the fucking sand in,” Clyde Viklund, the acting bouncer said, glaring at him.

He stepped inside, just as a message came in his earpiece. It was Ori. “Can you get away?” She asked without so much as a greeting. “I think I might have a plan that could work.”
“And what do I tell Tenad?”

“Tell her the truth.” The com went dead. Just like fucking Ori to dump him in it and leave.
“So? Was she good?” Tenad came to his side. “You look like she might have been a little rough on you.”

He forced a smile. “I like it rough.”

Her eyes hooded slightly and she damn near purred. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me, Ivanovic.” She nodded to her indentured. “Shall I send Camille for a pint?”

“Afraid not. Look, the one thing about Sandstorm is that you never know where you might get helpful information. Oh you won’t get any, of course. They hate Authority scum here, and they especially hate Fallons, but one of the punters I met gave me a tip I need to check into to.”

“I’ll come with,” she said.

“No offence, lady, but I don’t want you on my ship. She has a few little trade secrets I’d rather keep to myself. I need some of that tech to test a theory. If it works, if it’s true, I’ll let you know.”

She studied him for a moment, then yawned behind her hand. “I’ll expect a report in the morning then. I’ve taken all the local ambience I can handle for one day. Think I’ll head back to the Virago and turn in early so we can get a fresh start in the morning.”
“Knock yourself out,” he said.

She gave him a throaty chuckle. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Oh absolutely not,” he said, holding her green-eyed gaze. “I’d rather do that myself.”
“Now where would be the fun in that, me being unconscious while you … did whatever it is you fantasize about doing to an evil Fallon? Wouldn’t you rather have me conscious for every last bit of the pain and torment?” Eyes still on him, she motioned her indentured to her side. “Take me home, Camille.” She shrugged when she saw the surprise on his face. “She’s a far better pilot than some of my own crew, and the only one I trust with my personal shuttle.” They turned and walked out the door.

Kresho motioned Gerd and Dyrg over. “I’ve been summoned,” he spat. They both nodded in sympathy. “Keep an eye on things here and let me know if anything changes. Oh, and what happened to little brother?”

“He ordered several of his crew to keep an eye on the wicked sister, then buggered off back to his ship for another dose of the good stuff,” Gerd made no attempt to wipe the smirk off her face.

“Her shuttle just took off,” Kresho’s PD offered up in his ear. He had a few of his own people to keep an eye on things, but local control at the landing pad happily consented to give him word when a Fallon was on the pad or leaving for their flying fortresses. He’d made sure there were extra water rations and any other contraband he knew was in short supply in Sandstorm. He couldn’t afford not to be generous under the circumstances. He thanked the controller then headed out to the nearest blind spot where he ‘tranned up to the Compass.

Happy Friday, everyone! Time for another episode of Dragon Ascending.  Last week we saw Len’s homecoming to Sandstorm. This week Arji fills her in on the situation with the Fallons, and Len gets a severe shock. As I mentioned, I am now attempting to post episodes at lengths that will be better suited for the flow of the story and enhance your reading pleasure. Some will be slightly shorter, some will be longer. I hope you find this switch-up helpful. I hope you’re enjoying Dragon Ascending, the sequel to Piloting Fury, as much as I’m enjoying sharing it with you. As always, I love it when you share my work with your reading friends, so feel free. In the meantime, enjoy!

If you missed the previous episode of Dragon Ascending follow the link for a catch-up. If you wish to start from the beginning, of Dragon Ascending. Follow the link.  

For those of you who would like to read the complete novel, Piloting Fury, book one of the Sentient Ships series, follow the link to the first instalment.

Dragon Ascending: Book 2 of the Sentient Ship Series

On a desolate junkyard of a planetoid, scavenger Lenore Felish, disturbs something slumbering in a remote salvage dump and uncovers secrets of a tragic past and of the surprising role she must play in the terrifying present she now faces.

Robbed of her inheritance after her tyrannical father’s death, Tenad Fallon is out for revenge on her half-brothers, one who happens to be the sentient ship, Fury. Fury, with his human companions, Richard Manning and Diana McAllister, has his own agenda – finding the lost sentient ships and ending the scourge of indentured servitude in Authority space.

Dragon Ascending Part 45: A Face from the Past

Once they were safe away from prying eyes, Arji didn’t wait for formalities. “They’re looking for SNT1, if you can believe it.” He turned to her, looked her up and down and said, “I’m guessing you can believe it, new clothes, a little flesh on yer bones, and you sure as hell don’t look like you’ve travelled six days across the worst of the Taklamakan.”

“Arji, the less I tell you, the safer you’ll be. I can only say that there’s one helluva lot at stake here, and if we all play our cards right, the galaxy might be a happier place.

He offered a toothy grin. “One with two less Fallons in it, I’m hoping.

When she only gave him a raised eyebrow, the smile got bigger still. “You know me, Girlie-Girl. I’m all ears. If they say it in my bar, I’ll find out, don’t you worry. They say it outside my bar,” he gave a one shouldered shrug, “I’ll hear it anyway.”

“I knew I could count on you, Arj,” she said, but when he took a step closer and pushed the hair away from her cheek, she began to pace, not wanting to know where it might lead if she didn’t, and not wanting to lose a good friend. “Do you know why Kresho Ivanovic is drooling down Tenad Fallon’s tits?” She asked.

“Ain’t had a chance to talk to him yet. I ‘spect he’ll be poking his head in the old back room first chance he gets though. If he’s drooling down that bitch’s tits, then he’s got something up his sleeve, if I know Ivanovic. He ain’t doing this for the love of the conglomerates, you can trust me on that. ‘Sides, from what I hear, getting between that woman’s legs ain’t good for a man’s health.”

“If Ivanovic wants to bang that bitch, well that’s his problem, not mine. And anyway, an extra pair of trustworthy eyes and ears on the inside can’t hurt. Now tell me, Arji, what have you heard so far?”

Jax stuck her head in the door and handed them each a pint, “Glad you’re back Girlie. Arji’s been beside himself,” she said with barely a face quirk.

“Mum’s the word, Jax, ‘bout her being here.” He laid his finger to the side of his nose, and the barmaid gave a jerk of her head that passed as an affirmative and left. She’d been in Sandstorm long enough to roll with the punches.

Len took a sip and grimaced. She’d forgotten how vile the stuff really was. “This sauce’ll have you pissing sand, Arji. You working to improve the brewing technique, I see.”

“My goddamned one goal in life is to become a meister brewer, don’t you know?” He downed half of his and licked his cracked lip. “‘Sides, it’s better than not pissing an all.” He polished it off in a couple of quick gulps and sat the glass aside on a battered table, where he kept several smokes he made up in advance for a quick fix when the place was busy. “They came in around High Shimmer yesterday, the Fallons did, but I’m betting you knew that.”

She nodded and took another tentative sip before setting the glass aside next to his. “And they know about Fury?”

“Fuck me!” He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Are you telling me you and SNT1 are on a first name basis?” When she only blushed, he said, “Fuck me double time. Seriously, Girlie-Girl, if we get through this shit storm alive and Fallon free, ain’t a person on this sand heap that won’t want to hear that story.”

“If we get through this shit storm alive and Fallon Free, I’ll bore the piss out of all of you at the going away party I’ll be throwing before I fuck off for the Rim.”

He chuckled. “We skin these bastards out of enough credits, we might be on the next ship out ourselves, and leave the whole goddamn place to the glass vipers and the sand infestations.” He scratched his stubbled chin and huffed out a stale breath. “Here’s the thing that’s interesting to me, Girlie-girl, not more than a couple of Shimmers before the Fallons show up, there’s a man and a woman, off-worlders, show up here asking around about you. We was all worried so when they said they wanted to help find you, we told them a little bit, ‘specially when they said the damn Dart and its crew weren’t gonna be bothering anyone again.” His face reddened the way it always did when Arji was anger, and then he offered a sympathetic smile. “Hell, ain’t a one of us that wouldn’t like to take that lot out and leave ‘em in the Shimmer after what they did.” He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, then looked up, forcing a smile. “Anyway, we thought we could trust those two was trying to help you, and ifn they had a ship, then if anyone could find you still alive and bring you back, they could. By that time, though, you’d been gone long enough most people figured you was infestation fodder.”

“That would have been Fury’s compliment,” she said.

His mouth fell open and his eyes got even rounder than they usually were. “You’re shittin’ me! SNT1 has two compliments?”

“In the flesh,” she said.

He chortled and stroked his chin. “Well, I suppose an SNT ship would be … insatiable. Hell, an SNT ship could have a whole harem. At once.” He glanced up at her and shot her a wicked grin. “You wouldn’t know anything about that would you, Girlie? You sure look mighty pleased with yourself.”

When she blushed only harder, he let out a long low whistle. “What? He does his compliments and has a little bit on the side to boot? Lucky sonovabitch. Ifn he’s looking for an old fart with thinning hair and a paunch, I’m available. If his tastes run toward the eclectic, if you know what I mean. Hell, everyone in Sandstorm would happily volunteer, I’m pretty sure. Ifn his tastes run that way.”

She giggled and he raised an eyebrow, watching her pace. “So how was it?” He said stepping closer. I hear SNTs don’t care about your sex and they can make you feel like you’re in a right proper orgy, all attention on you. Is SNT1 that good?”

“I don’t know about SNT1. I’ve never had sex with him.”

He studied her for a moment, then grabbed up a smoke from the table, lit it up, inhaling deeply. “Then it is true, what they’ve been saying. They’re saying that SNT1’s here looking for another SNT, one somewhere in the Sea of Death.”

She only blinked, but in Sandstorm, a blink could speak volumes.

“We all told them they was full of shit. What the hell would an SNT ship be doing buried beneath the sand in Tak Major? Makes no goddamned sense at all. But then what does these days when here the fuck we are hosting two bloody Fallon brats and their goon squad.” He took another puff and blew it out. “The son is no chip off the old block. He’s a bloody Mist addict. Pretty damned useless. I wonder how he managed to find the toilet with his own ass when he has a shit. First thing his sister did when she got here was make sure we could supply his habit. ‘Course we couldn’t. That stuff’ll dry up your piss faster than a couple hours in a Shimmer Wind. Turns out Ivanovic sorted him. Oh it’s not sisterly love on Daddy little girl’s part. She wants him out of the way. You can damn near feel the hate rolling off those two like heat in the Shimmer. But Tenad, now she’s one dangerous bitch. She scares the piss right out of me. They say she’s nothing like her old man. She doesn’t have a petty bone in her body. She’s all business, they say, all fairness, maybe even more than fair. Don’t argue over the price of things. Just pays the credits with a smile. Hell, she acts like one of those navel gazers on High Mount, so fucking serene and peaceful that her shit don’t stink. But when she sets a plan in motion well, hell hath no fury, and forget the woman scorned. Just hell hath no fury. I’ve heard things that put me right off my rations and give me nightmares, sure enough. Still waters run deep and fucking dangerous with that one. I hope ole Ivanovic knows what he’s doing. He might end up with his dick in a knot.”

He puffed on his smoke for a second, ruminating on that scary fact, and then he continued. “Apparently they can’t find SNT1 because he has one helluva cloaking device, and they can’t get into the Sea of Death Yard because it has a de-mole fence around the whole goddamn thing. Around the whole goddamn thing. Now who in the hell would have the tech and the credits to do that sort of thing if it weren’t a Fallon?”

“A good question,” she said.

“Anyway, they’re stymied by the de-mole and by SNT1’s cloak. That means they could be here awhile. If they have a plan, I haven’t heard anything, and no one has questioned me. I think if I went about it just right I could probably get little Camille to fill me in on some things. Oh I know most of them that’s got indentureds aren’t afraid to tell all their secrets around them. Their poor indentureds would never speak out when they know the consequences. Dig’s trying to get his hands on someone who can deactivate a shackle, but there are so many quacks out there, you know. She’s a good girl, quiet, but not cowed.”

It was standard beyond Authority territory, if you brought an indentured into non-Authority space, any effort that could possibly be made to free that indentured would be made. There was still far too little of the cure for the SNT virus that kept indentureds from trying to escape, but that would gradually change. Still, an indentured making an escape was rare enough even beyond the Rim, that it didn’t keep Authority ships from bringing their indentureds right on over with relatively little fear.

“Would do my heart good though, to rob a Fallon of an indentured,” Arji said. Len couldn’t help thinking the same.

“Bitch is got a lot of nerve bringing in indentured into my bar.” He shook his head as though he suddenly remembered the task at hand. “So, there really is another SNT? Well fuck me! Which one is it, and how did it get here?”

“He has no memory of who he is or what he’s doing way out here,” she said. “That’s why Fury’s here, trying to help him.”

“And he likes you, this mysterious SNT?”

This was not a conversation she wanted to have. “He doesn’t hate me, at least not most of the time. Look Arji, please don’t ask me any more questions. Answers may only put you at risk. All I need is for you to keep your ears open and,” she fumbled in her jacket and pulled out the small leather case with the subdural device. “I need you to wear this. You can communicate with me, with us, if there’s anything we need to know. Just rub your hand over it. You know, like you’re rubbing your neck. That’ll activate it and we’ll hear what you’re saying and I’ll come if there’s something important you need to let us know.”

He held her gaze until she blinked. “He ‘tranned you here, didn’t he, SNT1 Fury.”

She only blinked at him and loaded the subdural into the syringe. He pulled his hair away from the spot behind his ear and gave a little hiss as she inserted it. “What’s that like, being ‘tranned? Weren’t you afraid it’d scramble your brain?”

“Arji, how goddamn long does it take you to shoot you’re wad? Vaticana Jesu. Finish the fuck up already. I don’t need to see this,” Ivanovic said, but he didn’t look away.

As Ivanovic burst in, Arji grabbed Len, pulling up her hood as he did so and then kissed the hell out of her just like they had been fucking, then he pulled away and nodded her toward the back door, but even in the recess of her hood, she got her first look at Kresho Invnovic, and she froze. He hadn’t gone by that name when she knew him. He was Van, they called him. Keith Vanderbilt, and he had betrayed her and her mother, left them to rot on Tak Minor.

She barely heard Arji tell the man he was a cocksucker, as he turned her toward the door with a little shove. She glared back one last time at Van from under her hood, then fled out the back door to a litany of Ascent’s growls and grumbles about Arji’s lying, filthy, disrespectful mouth. Once she was safely back in the blind spot and she could calm down enough to stop shaking, she told Fury she was ready to ‘tran up.

Happy Friday, everyone! Time for another episode of Dragon Ascending.  Last week Len ‘tranned down to Sandstorm and had a very enlightening chat with Arji. This week Kresho gets his own painful case of enlightenment. As I mentioned, I am now attempting to post episodes at lengths that will be better suited for the flow of the story and enhance your reading pleasure. Some will be slightly shorter, some will be longer. I hope you find this switch-up helpful. I hope you’re enjoying Dragon Ascending, the sequel to Piloting Fury, as much as I’m enjoying sharing it with you. As always, I love it when you share my work with your reading friends, so feel free. In the meantime, enjoy!

If you missed the previous episode of Dragon Ascendingfollow the link for a catch-up. If you wish to start from the beginning, of Dragon Ascending. Follow the link.  

For those of you who would like to read the complete novel, Piloting Fury, book one of the Sentient Ships series, follow the link to the first instalment.

Dragon Ascending: Book 2 of the Sentient Ship Series

On a desolate junkyard of a planetoid, scavenger Lenore Felik, disturbs something slumbering in a remote salvage dump and uncovers secrets of a tragic past and of the surprising role she must play in the terrifying present she now faces.

Robbed of her inheritance after her tyrannical father’s death, Tenad Fallon is out for revenge on her half-brothers, one who happens to be the sentient ship, Fury. Fury, with his human companions, Richard Manning and Diana McAllister, has his own agenda – finding the lost sentient ships and ending the scourge of indentured servitude in Authority space.

Dragon Ascending Part 44: Who’s the Girl?

“Thank you, Camille,” Kresho said when she sat the two drinks in front of him. He noticed Tenad always stiffened when he addressed her indentured like she was something more than a serving bot. He supposed it never entered the bitch’s mind that his behavior was simple common courtesy. But he also noticed she never punished the girl, never even raised her voice. Of course he had no idea how she treated her in the privacy of her suite.

“Thank you for the gesture, Ivanovic, but I really don’t drink,” Tenad said.

“It’s on your tab,” he said. “Besides, I didn’t get it for you,” he downed the first glass in one, still staring after the woman chatting to Arji, then gave a shiver at the aftershocks. Once he could catch his breath, he turned his attention back to the indentured. “Camille, who’s the girl?” he asked. “The one you were with.”

“I don’t know. She didn’t introduce herself.”

Tenad gave a grunt of a laugh. “Of course she wouldn’t, Ivanovic. She would know that if I happened to be curious enough to ask Camille her name, as an indentured, she would tell me.”

When Kresho didn’t respond, only kept craning his neck toward the bar, Tenad followed his gaze to the woman who stood talking to Arji after he all but swallowed her face.  “Clearly you think you know her.” The thing about Tenad Fallon that he couldn’t afford to forget was that she never missed anything.

“Thought she might be one of the whores I used to visit every now and again when I had the misfortune of having to come to this rock.”

“You thinking you might need a little entertainment tonight, are you?”

“Might need to blow off some steam after hanging out with you lot.”

“She’s tiny. You like ‘em young, do you?”

“I like ‘em consensual,” he said, wishing like hell the woman would turn around. It couldn’t be who he thought it was. He’d be unlikely to even recognize her now even if she had survived. “Besides,” he said, “No one born on this shit pile gets very big. Everybody here is slightly malnourished and dehydrated. Most people made sure they’d not sentence a child to grow up here, so they make sure they can’t have any. Still, every once in the while someone gets someone knocked up and the poor woman doesn’t have the heart to do the fetus a solid and end it before it’s born into this mess.”

“She must be good, the way you keep staring at her.”

He shrugged, careful to keep his angst to himself. “She does the job, and she’s not bad on the eye. Cheap too.”

“I always did like a bargain. Does she do women?”

“Never pictured you as a slummer, Fallon,” he said, glancing over at her. “But then again, I’m guessing you did the Dart’s captain before you shoved him out the airlock. He wasn’t hard on the eye, and I assume it wasn’t that hard to treat whatever SNT1 did to him so that his cock worked without him puking on you.”

She shrugged and ran a finger around the rim of his full beer glass, then looked up at him with those bright green eyes. “I’m a woman without an inheritance, Ivanovic. Waste not want not is my motto. Ah, you snooze, you lose. Looks like our gracious host beat you to it.” They both watched as Arji led the woman into the back room.

Kresho lifted her finger away from his drink. He didn’t miss the way her eyes followed the drink to his mouth and lingered on his lips. Fuck, the woman was a real cock straightener, wasn’t she just? He sipped, then licked the foam from his upper lip. “It won’t take ole Arji long. He’ll be finished in no time.”

She threw back her head and laughed a rough-edged laugh, which would have made him good and stiff, if the woman with Arji hadn’t turned and glanced back at the rest of the bar just before she followed him behind the curtain, and it was all Kresho could do to keep his heart from hammering through his chest. Christ, it couldn’t be her! It couldn’t. It wasn’t possible.”

“You looking forward to her that much?”

Too late he was reminded again that Tenad Fallon never missed anything. He shrugged, trying to bring his heart down from a gallop. “Man needs a good emptying of his sac every once in the while.”

One corner of her full lips quirked up. “You don’t seem to me to be the type of man that has to hold his load too long if he chooses not to.”

“A life of power is a lonely life, Fallon. You know what I mean, I’m sure.”

All sense of humor fled her face and she looked down at her hands folded on the table in front of her. “I do know exactly what you mean.” The smile returned, bright as sunshine, if a little forced. “It’s lonely at the top.”

“Tenad, you cunt! You think I don’t know what you’re up to in here without me!” Jessup Fallon all but fell into the bar shoving aside a couple of locals and spilling their drinks in the process, before two of Tenad’s security detail flanked him with Gert and Dyrg shadowing them.

She came to her feet, her eyes on her brother. “Camille go to the bar and have the barmaid make sure those two Jessup disturbed have free drinks for the rest of the night and anyone else my idiot brother has disturbed.” The girl did as she was ordered and Tenad spoke to Kresho, without taking her eyes off her brother. “The thing about the top, Ivanovic, is that there’s always someone thinking they belong there in your place, most of them without the balls it takes to actually get there. If you’ll excuse me.”

It was exactly the kind of break Kresho needed to get away from Tenad and find out if he was going crazy or if he’d actually seen the impossible. He shoved back from the table and headed for the back room as fast as he could shove his way through the crowd.

Happy Friday, everyone! Time for another episode of Dragon Ascending.  Last week no one was happy about Len ‘tranning back to Sandstorm. This week we see what she finds there. As I mentioned, I am now attempting to post episodes at lengths that will be better suited for the flow of the story and enhance your reading pleasure. Some will be slightly shorter, some will be longer. I hope you find this switch-up helpful. I hope you’re enjoying Dragon Ascending, the sequel to Piloting Fury, as much as I’m enjoying sharing it with you. As always, I love it when you share my work with your reading friends, so feel free. In the meantime, enjoy!

If you missed the previous episode of Dragon Ascending follow the link for a catch-up. If you wish to start from the beginning, of Dragon Ascending. Follow the link.  

For those of you who would like to read the complete novel, Piloting Fury, book one of the Sentient Ships series, follow the link to the first instalment.

Dragon Ascending: Book 2 of the Sentient Ship Series

On a desolate junkyard of a planetoid, scavenger Lenore Felish, disturbs something slumbering in a remote salvage dump and uncovers secrets of a tragic past and of the surprising role she must play in the terrifying present she now faces.

Robbed of her inheritance after her tyrannical father’s death, Tenad Fallon is out for revenge on her half-brothers, one who happens to be the sentient ship, Fury. Fury, with his human companions, Richard Manning and Diana McAllister, has his own agenda – finding the lost sentient ships and ending the scourge of indentured servitude in Authority space.

Dragon Ascending Part 43: Damn Tourists!

Fury ‘tranned Len down in a blind spot just behind the Dust Bowl. She knew where all the blind spots were, as most of the residents did. Those were places where contraband would be safe from prying scans. They were all heavily shielded parts of the wrecked ships that had literally been used to build Sandstorm. Many of those blind spots were shielded by bits of ships that could have been sold off for a tidy profit. But everyone here understood they didn’t have a lot of protection of their own, and what little they could get was worth the loss of a few water credits. Everyone also understood that nothing would get you sent on a one-way trip into the Sea of Death in your underwear faster than tampering with the blind spots.

Fury had fitted her with every piece of SNT tech he could load on her to keep her safe and to be able to ‘tran her back in a hurry if need be. And the amazing thing was that none of it was visible to the naked eye. Still, when she pushed open the shield door of the Dust Bowl and stepped into the biggest crowd she had ever seen, she felt more than a little exposed. Jax was pulling pints as fast as her arms could pump them up and Arji stood behind the bar looking angry and hassled. He was yelling at some Fallon uniform, who was a couple dozen centimeters taller than he was, but that never slowed the man down much. She’d forgotten how his voice carried when he was angry. “Look I don’t give a goddamn glass viper’s fuck what your high in the heel boss told you, I ain’t got no more room in my fucking bar, and that’s that. She wants to shuttle down another dozen grunts, then they’re gonna stand outside when the wind gets up and the sandstorms set in. I’m just bloody well fine with that. Fewer of you Authority lot stinking up my bar, the better.” She couldn’t keep from smiling. The man always did have big balls.

Carefully she made her way through the crowd, keeping an eye on Arji, trying to subtly catch his attention, but she wasn’t quite carefully enough. She bumped into a woman carrying two pints, and before she could apologize, she looked up to realize the woman was a small, wiry indentured, who had suddenly lost all the color in her pale face as the drinks hit the floor and shattered. She followed the girl’s glance back to see what had to be fucking Tenad Fallon sitting like the queen of the universe at the table in the far corner, leaning over chatting practically head-to-head with some stranger she didn’t recognize. Probably someone who couldn’t wait to kiss her butt if it would get him off this sand dune.

Lenore felt a little pale herself. She hadn’t seen an indentured since she left Authority space. And while any indentured would be treated with kindness here, their holders would be loathed. She had no doubt the Sandstormers would slit their throats, or worse, leave them to the Shimmer and the Wind, if they had any hope at all of freeing the indentured. They didn’t. And if their contract holders felt they were abused in any way because of said indentured, well, shit rolls downhill.

“That bitch got your clamp?” They both looked up to see Digby standing over them, eyes gentle like Lenore hadn’t seen them too many times. The man might have been the hardest hard ass in Sandstorm, and one who could afford to leave if he wanted to. He hadn’t. He’d always been civil to Len, but she had always treated him with respect.

The girl nodded, fearlessly meeting his eyes, a thing most indentureds that belonged to a Fallon were far too timid to do.

“Glad you’re back, Girlie. How’re you pissing?” he said to Len, giving her a pat on the back that nearly knocked her off her feet. Almost everyone in Sandstorm had called her Girlie when she arrived so unceremoniously all those years ago. The affectionate moniker had stuck. “Arji’ll be glad to see you.” Then he turned his attention back to the indentured. “Don’t you worry none about this mess. It happens. Hell, most of us would gladly dump ole Arji’s swill on the floor if there was anythin’ else ‘round here to drink. I’ll clean it up, and this ‘un’ll take you back to the bar and get you sorted right up with a couple more.” He glared back over at Tenad Fallon. “‘th any luck, it’ll give the bitch a bad case of the shits. It does that with off-worlders ever once in a while. Specially them that’s a little high in the heel.”

The girl fought to keep back a smile at the thought, but in the end, she let it flash, only briefly, but it seemed all the brighter for it.

“Dig,” Len leaned close to be heard in his ear above the din. “I need you to keep quiet about me being back. And keep your eyes open.”

He gave her a quick nod that would have been barely noticeable to most, but she was used to the subtle unspoken conversation that went on between the salvage dealers.

As she and the indentured elbowed their way back toward the bar and Dig bent to pick up the broken glass, the girl looked up at Len and said. “She won’t hurt me.”

“What?”

“Taned Fallon. She won’t punish me for it.”

Len didn’t even try not to laugh. “What? She’s kind to you then?”

“I’m a tool to her, nothing more. Most of the time she treats me like she does her med-bot. She gives orders, I do them and the rest of the time she ignores me. It’s like I’m not even there. I like it just fine that way” She bit her lip. “I’ve seen what she does to others.”

“Vaticana Jesu,” Len cursed. “Would hate to think what she does to her friends.”

“She has no friends,” the girl said.

“Who’s the man she’s with? Do you know?”

“Kresho Ivanovic.”

“You mean the bloke who runs Vodni Station?”

The girl nodded.

“Do you know what they’re doing here?” She felt guilty about using an indentured, but there was too much at risk for her not to use every resource.

“I do, yes.”

“Girlie-Girl! How the hell’re you pissing?” Suddenly Len found herself locked in a bear hug, her face pressed to Arji’s, who planted a big fat kiss right on her lips. That was the last thing on this sand heap she expected. And Ascent would have a Fury’s eye view of the whole thing. She definitely did not need that. He pulled away and looked down at her with a wide smile. “I told everyone you’d find a way back. Didn’t I tell you Jax?” He called over to the bar maid, who offered her a nod of her head and the quirk of the corner of her mouth that could either be a smile or the lip equivalent of the middle finger. Since she had no reason to dislike Len, she took it for a smile.

He started to motion over a couple of locals she knew standing at the bar, but she stopped him with a shake of her head, placing a finger to her lips to silence him. “I need you to keep quiet about my visit, and I need your help.” Ascent growled in her implant something about Arji taking liberties, and mentally she rolled her eyes. No one else said anything. She wondered if Fury was the jealous type.

He nodded, looking around the room. “A fucking takeover this is. No room for our own. That ain’t right.” Then his face softened as he saw the indentured standing next to her. “You all right Camille?”

The girl looked him in the eye and nodded.

“I ran into her, spilled two pints and broke the glasses. You can put those on my tab, and can you have Jax fix her up? On me too.”

He nodded to the barmaid and raised two fingers. “On the Fallon tab, and an extra one or two for you too, if you still got the stomach for it.”

They watched as Camilla inched her way down the bar to pick up the new pints Jax handed her. “How much do you know?” Len asked.

“A bit,” he replied. “The bastards and their ass lickers barely got into orbit before they were dropping out of the sky by the shuttle-loads, lining up at the goddamned door.” Tula and Vaness are turning a good few credits, though. Hell the line outside their door’s damn near as long as mine. Those two’ll be walking bow-legged for a month. Though I reckon we’ll all have fatter pockets for it, but at what price, I wanna know.” Out-worlders thought Arji’s curtained off room was for whores, but Tula and Vaness had a gutted-out sparrow class back behind the Dust Bowl where they lived and did their business. They’d fixed it up really nice considering the limited resources. They’d tried to talk Len into going in with them, an easier living, they said. And maybe it was, but she was an explorer, and she’d rather eat less and be a little thirsty and at least halfway enjoy what she did. Though there had been times she’d been sorely tempted. Arji jerked his head and motioned her across the bar to the curtained room. “Let’s find us a little more privacy. Jax,” he called over to the barmaid. “Com Clapper to get his ass out front and cover for me a few minutes. And you never saw Girlie Girl, here, got that?” She was already shouting into her PD to be heard over the noise and gave them both a nod before they turned to go.

Happy Friday, everyone! Time for another episode of Dragon Ascending.  Last week week Fury and his crew tried to help Ascent get his memories back only to discover company is coming. This week no one is happy about Len’s solution to a major problem. As I mentioned, I am now attempting to post episodes at lengths that will be better suited for the flow of the story and enhance your reading pleasure. Some will be slightly shorter, some will be longer. I hope you find this switch-up helpful. I hope you’re enjoying Dragon Ascending, the sequel to Piloting Fury, as much as I’m enjoying sharing it with you. As always, I love it when you share my work with your reading friends, so feel free. In the meantime, enjoy!

If you missed the previous episode of Dragon Ascending follow the link for a catch-up. If you wish to start from the beginning, of Dragon Ascending. Follow the link.  

For those of you who would like to read the complete novel, Piloting Fury, book one of the Sentient Ships series, follow the link to the first instalment.

Dragon Ascending: Book 2 of the Sentient Ship Series

On a desolate junkyard of a planetoid, scavenger Lenore Felik, disturbs something slumbering in a remote salvage dump and uncovers secrets of a tragic past and of the surprising role she must play in the terrifying present she now faces.

Robbed of her inheritance after her tyrannical father’s death, Tenad Fallon is out for revenge on her half-brothers, one who happens to be the sentient ship, Fury. Fury, with his human companions, Richard Manning and Diana McAllister, has his own agenda – finding the lost sentient ships and ending the scourge of indentured servitude in Authority space.

Dragon Ascending Part 42: A Temporary Fix

In her ridiculous ruminations, she had managed to find and focus the view screen on the three Jaegers and the Dreadnaught along with the little Kestrel, which kept its distance from the others. She couldn’t properly scan them, not without giving away their location, but she could tell enough about them to know that these weren’t just standard military, but then if Tenad and Jessup Fallon owned them, they would be upgraded and state of the art with weapons to the teeth. She shivered at the thought. She was sipping water from one of the flasks, leaning back in the chair watching the ships on the screen, when she realized she was no longer alone. Her shoulders tensed, half expecting him to tell her to get out of the chair that belonged to his compliment. When Ascent did not speak, she kept the silence watching the ships hanging peacefully above the planet and yet they were there for only destruction and pain. That was all Fallons ever left in their wake. At last she spoke, as much to herself as to him. “We were hounded by Jaegers for days when my mother and I and Van escaped Authority space. Van was my mother’s lover. Every night I went to bed wondering if we’d all be shackled by morning, and every morning when I woke safe aboard the Valentine and free to find we’d outrun them a little while longer, I cried.” She huffed out a harsh breath. I was just a little girl. I didn’t understand why I cried when we woke up free rather than crying because the Jaegers had caught us. Jaegers still fly in my nightmares.”

“I am sorry,” he said softly, and she felt as though he had moved to stand close behind her.

She only shrugged. “It’s over. I survived.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered anyway. Then she added quickly, not wanting him to see how vulnerable she felt. “I got bored. I came here and, well the control panel is very user friendly.”

“I am sorry,” he said again, and she stilled as he lay hands on her shoulders. “For what I said, for the way I treated you. I am sorry. It is only that I am afraid Lenore. I am afraid for you, what might happen if you go back there, that you will decide not to come back. Certainly now, with all that has happened, you would be safer there in Sandstorm.”

“I would be in the viper’s den, Ascent. Last I checked there’s still a bounty on the head of anyone ever associated with the SNT program. My uncle’s debt at the loss of an SNT settles on me now, with my mother dead. But even if it wasn’t, my mother was one of the chief scientists, and I’m guilty by birth, even if I knew nothing at all.”

“But you know a lot, don’t you, Lenore.” She felt him nod to the panel. “And you have perhaps as many secrets as I do.”

“I don’t know much, Ascent, or I could help you. This, going back to Sandstorm, finding out what the Fallons are planning, this I can do. I was seven when we fled. I hardly look like that plump little girl who wanted to join with an SNT and see the stars.”

He came to her side and pulled her to her feet. “Lenore, you have helped me more than Fury and his compliment and all the scientists on the Dubrovnik ever could, and I do not like it when I hurt you.” He settled into the chair and pulled her onto his lap. She had made no effort to turn on the bridge lighting. She hadn’t needed it in the glow of the control panel, and she had not wanted her shame exposed to the light.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you too, Ascent. I say things when I’m angry, things I don’t really mean, things that hurt.”

He pulled her closer and she laid her cheek against his shoulder, felt him kiss the top of her head, felt a hand move over her belly. Instinctively she sought his mouth in the darkness, and found him willing, ready, opening to her. “Lenore,” he whispered brushing her tongue with his. “I want to make love to you now.”

She pulled his hand from her belly and slid it up onto her breast. The little sound coming from her mouth into his as the rake of his thumb stiffened her nipple was almost the mew of a small animal.

While he might have been clothed when he came to her, he certainly was not now. Come to think of it, she could not remember him ever being clothed, nor was there any reason, since he took what human form was necessary, tactile, not visible, and had probably never needed clothes with his compliment. She lifted her arms so that he could slide her shirt off over her head, palms pausing long enough to skim over her breast in his efforts. Then he went immediately to work on her trousers, sliding them down just far enough that her bottom was bare, flesh raking flesh, the shifting of his hips maneuvering until his erect penis splayed her open. And for him, muscle memory made accommodation, swollen, trembling and slick.

Another shift and glide, large hands supporting her buttocks and he entered her, her legs bound together by the trouser so that she could not take control and turn to straddle him. Instead he entered her from behind, pulling her down tightly onto his laps holding her hips as the first tight-fitting shock of his fullness passed over her and morphed to quivering anticipating of one thrust and another, of each glide and rake, of the feel of her breasts swollen and heavy from his fondling, at the tightness of his own nipples against her back. She gripped him tight, down there deep, her head falling back on his shoulder as though her neck suddenly had no bones, his mouth, his teeth even, finding the soft spot just below her ear making her squirm even more. The shift and glide tensed to a manic hammer and clench until she had forgotten how to breathe, until she knew she would never breathe again until he gave her what she wanted. A stroke of a finger against her own pebble of an erection, and her whole body convulsed, tensed and clamped down as he came inside her, squeezing her tightly against his body. Then she collapsed back against him, able to do nothing but gasp for oxygen, a thing he mirrored beneath her.

“I am at home in you, my Lenore. Inside you, I know myself.”

She snuggled him closer, wishing with all her heart that it were true, but it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. He didn’t know himself, did he? And he loved someone else. That shouldn’t matter. It had never been her intention to feel anything, nor to illicit any feelings in him, but it was far too late for that now, wasn’t it?

Carefully and lovingly he guided her down to her bed. With him surrounding her there was no need for the headlamp. And when he had helped settle her beneath the coverlet, he slid down next to her and pulled her close against his chest. There, so close to him, deep in his embrace, she did the thing she knew better than to ever do, she pretended that all he had said was true. She pretended that it was her he loved.