"Nervous, love?" Gen asked.

The L-Striker's hum filled the room. Slippery hands made the jittery weapon difficult to manipulate. Lily fumbled for the density and propulsion controls.

"Where's my keeper?" She asked.

"With Artemi."

"I want to see him myself. I want to see he's ok."

Gen's brow furrowed. The scar marring the left side of his face further puckered his features. "Why don't you contact him on your talk-round. They should still be functioning. Artemi wouldn't like us leaving without permission." He jutted his chin at her gun. "You're putting yourself in more trouble than you and one L-Striker can handle."

The talk-round lay under the cot with her ammunition belt. She couldn't get to it without taking her attention off Gen. A shake of her Striker directed the medic around her.

"You get it."

Lowering his hands, Gen edged towards the cot. The L-Striker trained on him as Lily backed up. Displaced air buffeted her when he passed. Gentle gusts brushed her nakedness. Nose scrunched and lips twisted. The medic crouched and pulled out the chunky band.

"Contact him. His channel's the first button," Lily ordered.

No matter how many times Gen clicked Vortrand's channel button, nothing came over the line. Not even the usual static. Lily choked her L-Striker's handle. With their positions shifted, the Verakian man couldn't see her thumb down the settings on her liquis pistol. If she had to shoot him she wouldn't kill him.

Clicking his tongue, Gen said, "Artemi probably had him switch it off. He doesn't like negotiations interrupted."

"Then I want to see. Take me to him. Right now."

Gen rose and cocked his head at her. "What if I say no?"

"Then I'll shoot you."

Gen watched her for one beat, two, then he huffed a bit of laughter. "I don't think so."

What was it? What was it about her that said, I'm not a threat? Vlex had warned her the first time she'd held him at gunpoint.

You don't bluff well. Don't try it with me or anyone else your life depends on again.

Well, this was no bluff.

Lily fired.

The trigger clicked. A hollow buzz droned from the barrel. The scent of o-zone radiated from the Striker's whirring mechanisms. She squeezed the trigger again.

Click, buzz. Click, buzz.

Clickclickclickclickclickclick.

Lily growled and shook the Striker at Gen who held up a static liquis cartridge. She flipped over the pistol. An empty space gaped where the cartridge should have been.

"Took the liberty." He pocketed the cartridge. "Didn't know if I could trus—"

The L-Striker flew at Gen and nailed him right in the face. The medic's head snapped back and his arms went out. The hurled pistol skidded across the floor. The exit was unblocked and unguarded. Lily sped for it, feet slapping and peeling from the plastic lined floor. Then Gen had her.

Arms ensnared Lily's waist and scooped her up. While Gen hefted her she scrabbled then kicked back her heels and pummeled his arms. He grunted at her assault, but held fast. When shushing and wrangling her failed—she nearly slipped free when he adjusted his grip—he locked his arms around her and tipped over. Back struck the floor with a loud smack.

The medic strapped Lily's arms across her chest. His hands became shackles. Legs wrapped around and pinioned hers. She tried a reverse head butt, but he dodged her easily. All she could do was scream. So she did.

"Oh, none of that," Gen grumbled and fixed one hand around her crossed wrists. His other clamped over Lily's mouth. She nipped his palm and he gasped. "That feels good, though. You can keep doing that."

Lily immediately stopped and flopped against him. The ceiling shimmered. Nose clogged. Snuffling, she squinted. Hot tears spilled from the creases of her eyes.

"If anyone should be crying, it's me," Gen said into her hair. "I'm the one with the bloody nose."

"Mubefurbish."

Gen lifted his hand. "Pardon?"

"You deserved it!"

"What did I do?"

"You disabled my Striker."

"Good thing too. You would have shot me."

"Only on the low settings."

A roar of laughter inflated Gen's chest and jostled her.

"And you're a mercenary." Lily shouted over him. "And you're going to cut us up and sell us."

Laughter petered out. "What are you talking about?"

"You said I'd be a fair trade for the Atarsen. My keeper told me you'd sell us for parts if it was worth your while."

"First of all, I was teasing you. Second, we're moving away from the skin trade and third, we would never slice you up. You're much more valuable intact. We'd rent you out as a pleasurable way to spend the time."

"Oh, my God."

"Teasing, love."

"Well, it's not funny."

"...Sorry."

Gen loosened his grip and angled them sideways. Lily breathed out a long breath. They lay there a while without speaking then he sat them up. Hands cupped and rubbed her shoulders.

"I'll take you to him. Get dressed."

Lily scurried to the screen. She yanked on her barriersuit, adjusting the fit as she slinked from behind the privacy wall. A pale hand reached for her chest. She slapped it away and sprang back.

"Don't even try that tertiary hold crap!"

The words blared out before Lily really thought about them. The last time a Verakian reached for her chest she spent three ards paralyzed from the neck down. Gaping, Gen pulled back.

"You are paranoid, aren't you?" He swirled a finger at her suit. "You've got black dust all over you. You'll get covered in the stuff topside if you're not careful. Fledglings can't process a lot of it. Hardens the flagettes."

"Oh." Lily looked down at herself.

Black dust and sparkling grime smudged the starcollide. Black and silver flecks speckled the white floor as she dusted herself.

"Someone used a tertiary hold on you?" Gen asked at which Lily nodded. "Was it your keeper?"

"It was."

Gen tensed. "That how he likes it then?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Good." The medic shook his head. "Still, using bakai on an ulari..."

"Bakai?"

"It's one of Verakian Command's advanced combat techniques."

"You know it?"

"I do."

"Can you teach me?"

Scratching the back of his neck, Gen said, "I can try. Advanced techniques are pretty useless without the basics." He shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe you'll take to it. Want to trade?"

"I don't have any crellis or dab or anything."

"I'm sure we can sort a fair solution. Maybe trade one of your talents for mine?"

When Lily glared at him, Gen held up his hands again. "I didn't say which talent." He winked. "I'm sure you have many, but before we sort terms I said I'd show you your keeper. Then maybe you'll trust me a bit."

Allowing Gen before her, Lily followed him out of the makeshift recility ward.

The camp was a labyrinth of corridors and door flaps. After a few turns Lily lost her direction. Without Gen she couldn't have found the way back or out. All the walls and floors were white. No discernable markings differentiated any of the entrance flaps they passed.

Other Verakian strode the halls. None wore pressuresuits or resnance chips. The camp generated its own atmosphere and gravity. She trailed her fingers along the wall. It was pliant and tacky like vinyl.

"The camp is predominantly smart fiber." Gen answered her unspoken curiosity. "We used an existing tunnel network created by the Sentinels' old root system as a frame. This structure is like a sturdy balloon filling those gaps." He parted an entrance flap for her and ushered her inside. The chamber contained a console with multiple dedicated screens. A Verakian woman lounged before it. When Gen entered the woman's view she leapt from her chair and stood at attention. He waved her off.

"Nevermind that. Let us see Artemi." He said the name pointedly.

The Verakian woman adjusted the console's settings. All the dedicated screens flicked to the negotiation room.

Artemi and Vortrand conversed at one end of a long, flimsy looking table. The captain's L-Striker rested on his left. Everything looked ok. The tense set of Lily's shoulders wilted. Vortrand's disagreeable face never looked so good.

"Can we get sound?" Gen asked.

The Verakian woman complied. Artemi's booming voice projected from the console's speakers.

"—names are worth a lot. Not as much as the Atarsen. You won't find another in captivity."

"What do you propose?" Vortrand countered.

"Your ulari."

Lily flinched.

"You're laced if you think I'll hand her over."

Waving his hand, Artemi said, "Not permanently, but those skills you described." The merc leader licked his lips. "Perhaps a brief loan?"

The captain steepled his hands before his face. Lily folded her arms. He would never—

"That won't be a problem," Vortrand said and Lily's jaw dropped. Stomach bottomed out. Hands dropped onto her shoulders. Squeaking, she stared up into Gen's crimson eyes.

"Maybe a trade won't be necessary," he said.