The Rembrandt Legacy

The portal responded and tore another gaping wound into the fabric of space. This time, the silky blackness beyond seemed almost welcoming after the strobing madness of the TransNet. The ship shivered as we crossed back into realspace.

"Fetching nav data," Vaelia said, her fingers flying over the controls. "This is the Oreas system, as planned. Plotting a course to Waystation 81."

My HUD updated with a new waypoint. The TransNet portal for the Oreas system had been built close to it's only inhabited planet, cutting down on travel time to and from it.

I adjusted the Lumia's trajectory and opened up the throttle. "Anything I should know about this place?"

"Until a few decades ago, Oreas was a booming mining spot. With most of the precious shit gone, it's basically a rest stop before the great unknown. Or a layover for those who want to visit Sol. Keep your hand on your gun and don't take any offer at face value. The Republic's influence is pretty much nonexistent. That's why we're here rather often. No one asks too many dumb questions."

"A hive of scum and villainy?"

"Oh, I've heard of this 'Star Wars' thing." She laughed. "The dancers are much hotter on Waystation 81 though. Look, there it is."

Using the sensor system's zoom feature, I pulled the targeted object closer. It looked like a garishly glowing glass-and-metal tumor erupting from the broken shell of a strip-mined asteroid. Domes and towers, connected by graceful tubes. The whole waystation was surrounded by satellites beaming ads and information into space. The noise in my headset was deafening and I cut out anything besides the flight control channel.

"And here I was thinking I'd get to set foot on an alien planet," I said, mildly disappointed.

"Sorry to disappoint you. The Oreasi don't like for space scum to walk around on their planet. That's why there's a waystation in the first place. Shall I do the handshakes?"

"Please. I need to weave my way through all this space junk."

"Waystation 81, this is the Lumia. Requesting docking permission."

"Lumia, approach to within 2000 units and hold. You will be able to dock in bay fifteen shortly."

Vaelia cut the connection. "And they're up to their usual bullshit." She switched to internal comms. "Lily, flight control seems to have routing issues."

"Aw, again? Well, can't be helped. Let's see if a small donation will grease the wheels."

"You know you're doing just what they want?"

"The alternative would be risking a pissing match with their long-range defenses. I'm in a party mood, Vael. Pay them."

"It's your money, boss." Vaelia opened the channel again and tapped her communicator with her free hand, transferring five thousand credits. A moment later, Waystation 81's flight control officer called.

"Lumia, docking bay fifteen is cleared for your perusal. Welcome to Waystation 81 and have a nice day."

"Fucking highwaymen," Vaelia spat. "Take us in."

Ahead, a giant gate irised open. I threaded the Lumia through. A dizzying array of guide markers and warning signs assaulted my eyes.

"Landing gear down," Vaelia said.

"Thanks." I switched off the main thrusters, using only the maneuvering jets to park the Lumia on her designated spot. With a soft clang, the landing skids made contact.

"Touchdown."

* * * *

Lily and Cosina waited near the airlock. Both looked different from earlier. Cosina, for one, had changed her see-through body plating for a matte black suit of plates and a long tan coat over that. Lily wore another model of wetsuit, this one white and mainly opaque, with a tantalizing clear area going from her neck down between her breasts and ending below her navel. A short golden jacket ended just over her hips, around which she wore the same holster she had on when she freed me. Only this time I saw the bulky end of a plasma pistol jutting from it.

"I've got something for you, Rem." Cosina said. "Give me your arm please."

"Which one?"

"The one with your comms, of course," Lily said.

I did as asked. Cosina's fingertips dissolved, connecting her with my comms unit. The screen came to life and I could follow what she was doing. Cosina quickly paged into the 'Identity' register. My criminal record was still there, although I was "released on unspecified terms". In quick succession, several new licenses and certificates slotted into their respective headers. Within thirty seconds of Cosina touching my comms, I was officially licensed to conceal carry pretty much every firearm known in Nor space and was allowed to fly anything up to and including paramilitary assault craft. I suddenly had also been turned into a member of the Engineer's Guild of Norwan.

"There you go," the Silician said, beaming happily.

"You made all these licenses for me? Just like that?"

"It took a bit of prep work beforehand, but the moment we were out of the TransNet, I could seed your information in the relevant databanks. The licenses are watertight. Or at least have a ridiculously low chance of being spotted as crafted."

"Thank you."

Cosina swept in and hugged me, offering her lips for a kiss. I leaned in and brushed my lips against hers. I had never before been that close to a Silician and didn't know what to expect. Would she taste like latex? Plastic?

Instead her lips were as soft and supple as any woman's I had ever kissed. I tasted a hint of apple. Cosina's lips parted and her tongue tried to slip past mine.

Lily harrumphed. A guilty expression fluttered over Cosina's face and she stepped away from me.

"That reminds me," Lily said sweetly to Cosina, "have you found me a dancer yet?"

The Silician relaxed visibly and opened a compartment of her wrist plating. A projection lens flared up, displaying what looked like a dating service's web site. High-resolution images of beautiful people were visible.

"Filtering the 'Wormhole's' available dancers by species and gender," Cosina said. The pictures vanished, apart from one. A female Zuthrian's face, with a wild mane of gold-streaked silver hair remained. "She's the only one. Padari."

"Show me more."

The picture changed to a full 3D hologram of Padari. Long toned legs, supple curves, a firm butt and not a single tattoo on her flawless skin. The hologram slowly turned, pointing a sizable erection Lily's way.

"What can you find out about her?"

The image vanished, replaced by a wildly scrolling wall of text. Bits and pieces were highlighted in neon green and ended up floating next to the data stream. It wasn't much.

"She's twenty-three and has arrived two months ago. The 'Wormhole's customers rate her a flat four point five out of five."

"The few negative reviews are from straight customers, huh?" I couldn't keep myself from butting into the conversation.

"Their loss. I'm curious. Let's see her in the flesh."

Crush and Vaelia joined us. Vaelia wore her customary flight suit, zipped up to just between her breasts, with a concussion gun on her hips. The Gravon had his chest encased in a buiky set of hardshell plates, with matching pieces on his arms and thighs. A collapsible helmet bulged from between his shoulder blades. He too had his plasma pistol on his belt, along with what looked like a thick, three-feet handle clipped to his back. I brushed my fingers over it, manifesting. My gift told me that he was carrying a collapsible vibro-spear, the tip able to tear even lightly armored people to shreds. I winced.

"Guys, you look like we're about to hit a warzone," I said, half-joking. The weight of the Zuthrian dart gun at my hip was unfamiliar, but oddly soothing.

"We can't be careful enough. Plus, making a strong first impression should deter those with more guts than brains," Lily said.

"Isn't Praecor coming?"

"Nah. He's drawn the short straw this time and has to babysit the Lumia," Lily said.

"I'm sure he's not complaining," Cosina speculated. "If you treated him like you did me last time we were at Waystation 63."

"Exactly the same. Now, enough chit-chat." Lily opened the airlock. "Rem?"

I slid into the narrow space next to her and the door hissed shut behind us. The airlock cycled.

Lily's fingers brushed my hand. "Nervous?"

"A bit."

An impish smile played over her lips. "Don't worry. You're safe with me."

The outer doors opened. After the relative quiet of the Lumia, the noise of the busy docking bay hit me like a hammer. The roar and hiss of engines, the groan of machinery, the occasional, brutally loud clang of dropped metal items and the background choir of shouting and cursing people using half a dozen languages and dialects. Lily squeezed my hand and cleared the airlock. I followed her onto the floor of the bay. Even through my boots, I could feel the thrum of this place. Two bays down from us, a monolithic, boxy shape took off, four massive repulsor lifts glowing like miniature stars as they pushed the freighter away from the ground.

Cosina and Vaelia left the ship. Vael looked up. "Hm. Is that QQ's new combat freighter?"

"Who cares?" Lily quipped. "I would rather die than be caught flying in an ugly box like that."

"I don't know," the Zuthrian said, eyes glinting. "In a straight-up fight, that box would blow us to bits. It has eight weapon mounts and the shields are twice as thick as ours."

"All the more reason to get Rem kitted out and that damn job done," Lily snarled. "I want those phase shields."

She motioned for me to follow and strode purposefully towards the lifts.

* * * *

The lift doors opened and a kaleidoscopic inferno washed over me. Waystation 81's promenade deck was like the Vegas Strip, only with more holographic boobies. And massive sound systems pumping stomach-churning basses, vertigo-inducing melody lines and every conceivable offer into the ether. Also, instead of a few miles of Mojave desert, this particular explosion of neon and tantalizingly swaying holograms was stuffed into about twenty-five kilometers of circular hallways and corridors, most of them three to four stories tall. For a hellhole at the edge of civilized space, it was incredibly busy. People shuffled along the eye-wateringly colored shop fronts and club facades shoulder to shoulder. It was even too crowded for pickpockets.

"Okay, where to?" I yelled over the din.

Instead of answering, Lily nudged me towards a particular shop. Holographic mannequins wore an eclectic mix of clothing, from Zuthrian tribal wear made from sand dragon leather and adorned with chitin chips and bone slivers to scintillating Nor business dresses with their asymmetric cuts and slanted seams. Others showcased sets of Silician body plating, often with see-through panels in striking neon colors or what passed for lingerie around here. We entered the store and the noise levels went from ear-shattering to tolerable.

Lily eyed a particularly ornate set of lacy bra and panties, then shrugged. "When will someone make something like this, only in waterproof?" she complained. Turning to me, she asked: "See anything you like?"

I tugged at the sleeve of my synthesized jacket. "I'm not much of a fashion person. What's wrong with this?"

"Nothing. But maybe you want something nicer than synthesized artificial fiber bullshit?" Lily flitted away and returned a few moments later with a dark grey flight jacket. Where the light struck it, a golden scale texture glimmered. Smiling, she handed it to me. "Come on. Try it. For me?"

"Sure." I handed her my current jacket and slid into the one she had brought. It fit perfectly and was surprisingly heavy. "What is this made from?"

"Says here sand dragon leather and reactive padding," Lily said, slapping my back. Where her hand struck me, the jacket hardened, absorbing the impact.

"Neat." I was actually beginning to enjoy myself. "Let's see what else we can find."

Twenty minutes later, I was in a changing cubicle surrounded by a lot of new threads. Shirts, pants, shoes. There also was a bag with several new sets of socks and briefs. In the depths of the shop, we had even found a stash of bootlegged Terran merchandise. Smiling, I pulled another shirt over my head. This one was black, proudly displaying the logo of Guns'N'Roses on my chest. Underneath that I wore a pair of surprisingly well-made Levi's knockoffs.

Lily slid into the cubicle behind me. "I hardly recognize you," she murmured in my ear. "Where has the scruffy ex-inmate vanished to?"

"He's around somewhere, probably," I replied, exchanging a critical look with the person inside the mirror. The Titan prison kept it's inmates bald, but over the last week, some of my dark hair had been growing back, a short, soft fuzz. There were some grey streaks in the short beard I had gained. Or the extremely long five-o'-clock shadow. "Remind me to get a razor somewhere." My green eyes looked alert and Praecor's diet had softened some of the harsh angles of my face. "I think I'll take all of it."

"It's your money. No need to ask my approval." Her hands came around me and dove under the shirt, caressing my stomach. "But I do approve." She pecked a quick kiss onto my cheek and ducked back outside. I slipped back onto my own threads and gathered my purchases.

We headed for the checkout. A young, effeminate Zuthrian male, his jacket and shirt adorned with colorful sponsor logos, tallied up the purchases and bagged them. Lily had bought a new suit for herself, this one dark red and coated with a faux leather texture. I was even a bit disappointed she didn't opt to wear it right now.

"Have this delivered to the Lumia, dock fifteen please," Lily purred.

"We don't do deliveries, madam," the Zuthrian said, stuffing my shirts into a bag. "Sorry."

"You can't make an exception, just this once?" Lily leaned against the counter, fixing the cashier with a long, pleading stare. He looked up, right into her eyes. A knowing smile tugged at Lily's lips.

The cashier opened his mouth, reluctance on his face, but it melted away almost instantly. He blinked and suddenly smiled at her. "Don't mention it to the other customers or we won't get anything done. Dock fifteen, you said?"

"Yes. Thank you kindly."

We left the shop. I pulled Lily close. She shot me a surprised look. It had to be the first time I initiated contact since I've known her.

"How did you do that?" I hissed into her ear, sharp enough to slice though the noise levels.

"Not now, Rem," Lily hissed back. She fixed my hand on her arm with a long, hard stare. Almost of their own accord, my fingers slid off her. She threaded her arm around mine and favored me with one of her mercurial smiles. My misgivings evaporated as we pushed our way through the throng, towards a tech shop not far off.

I didn't buy one, but two tech kits that day. The smaller one was built into a wide belt which I could wear across my chest, like an old-fashioned bandoleer. It held the most common tools for all kinds of repair or crafting work, from a minute fusion torch through some adaptive wrenches and screwdrivers up to a pair of bracers with micro-tools for delicate electronics work. The other one was a wheeled box, with more and specialized tools. That shop did indeed do deliveries, so Lily didn't have to use whatever powers she had on the clothes store guy.

Done with our errands, we headed straight for the 'Wormhole'. Contrary to most other clubs or flesh bazaars on the promenade, there were no writhing bodies projected onto the facade, no breasts or cocks teasing the pleasures within. Instead there was a slowly rotating black halo. Randomized chunks of debris were sucked into it, parts of ships or shards of planetary matter.

A broad-shouldered Silician male screened the throng trying to enter the club. He wore a set of armor plates over the same matte black suit Cosina had on earlier, which only added to his menacing looks. His face was hidden by a black visor, a green mono-optic with a pulsing light behind it the only visible facial feature. His shoulders sprouted extra armatures. One heavy-duty crane arm, decorated with skulls and black-and-yellow warning stripes and a weapon arm with an ominously pulsing blue muzzle. A scanner prong had been mounted to his left forearm and his right hand ended in sharp claws. A large, chromed plug protruded from his crotch, surrounded by more green lights pulsing in time to his optics.

"Here's something you don't see often," Lily said, nodding the bouncer's way. "A male Fury. And he's been upgraded quite a bit since I was here last."

"Fury? And what kind of trouble are they expecting here?"

"Furies are Silician combat models. Most work that role temporarily. This one's been sentenced to it, as far as I know. Therefore the plug."

"That's where their cocks plug in, right?"

"Yup. No fun for him. And no sudden movements near him if you want to keep all your appendages."

"Got it."

We didn't have to wait long. Up close, the Fury was even more intimidating. His voice sounded like the proverbial robot vocoder, devoid of any emotion. "Hold. Still," he ordered, extending his left arm. I slowly raised mine and he ran the scanner prong up and down my body. It sang when it went over my gun.

"Use. This. Weapon. And. We. Will. Have. A. Problem."

"I'm just here for entertainment," I promised.

He had already turned away from me, running his scanner over Lily. It sang several times, not just at her hip.

"Use. These. Weapons. And. We. Will. Have. A. Problem."

"Yeah. Like 'what to do with your body parts', handsome," Lily purred, clicking her fingernails against the chrome plug. An unintelligible noise came from the Fury, then he waved us past with his claw.

We crossed an invisible threshold and suddenly the noise was gone. Don't get me wrong, the bass still was stirring my insides with every kick drum beat, but the soundscape had shifted away from pain-inducing noise levels, towards a much more sophisticated distribution of layers. The bass seemed to emanate from the floor, punching right up into my privates while the mids and highs were airy and ethereal, with amazing separation. A synth line swept through the room, seemingly travelling from behind my left shoulder all the way across my field of vision, nudging my attention towards the brightly lit stages on which exotic dancers of many species writhed, only to disappear behind my right shoulder eventually. A large dance floor in the center of the club was packed with sweating, jerking bodies while a topless Gravon lady with glitter-covered tits worked a set of musical instruments on a dais above them, her head nodding in time to the beat. The dance floor was surrounded by said stages, each large enough for one or two dancers and lit from below, outlining the swaying and twirling bodies in multicolored lights shifting to the music. Like an amphitheater, several tiers rose around the central area and were dotted with tables, seats and more of the small stages.

Lily pulled me to the side and used her comms. Smiling at the message she received, she looked around, then motioned for me to follow her. She made her way along the outside of the club, using ramps lit with minuscule spotlights to ascend the tiers. A few moments later we emerged onto a terrace overlooking the dancefloor. A shoulder-high frosted glass bannister framed it. A comfy-looking, round sofa offered seats for half a dozen people and another of the small stages glowed in the middle of the area, complete with a metal pole to dance around. Cosina and Vaelia lounged on the sofa, long-stemmed glasses with colorful drinks in their hands. A grinning, green-and-white tiger-striped male Felinoid, the only concession to modesty a golden piece of fabric in front of his crotch, hovered nearby, openly ogling my crew mates. His cat ears, high atop his skull, twitched expectantly and his striped tail swished around his ankles. He was ripped, sporting a chiseled six-pack even Crush couldn't sneeze at. His loincloth tented. With Vael's suit open to just above her crotch, I couldn't blame him