Chapter Two

  Naomi and Jersey were walking through the back alleys of the Meridian District, located roughly at the halfway point of the main station, near the outer shell, but not quite. For many people, The Watering Hole was not exactly easy to find. It had no signage, no neon beckoning you in, and it wasn’t openly advertised on the station’s ad holograms. Yet it was one of the most popular hotspots.

  As they navigated the labyrinthine corridors, Naomi decided to share the club's legend. “I know you’ve never been to ‘The Watering Hole’ before, but have you ever heard anything about it?” she asked, her tone inviting.

  “Only what you told me on the ship,” Jersey admitted. “But now I’m curious.”

  “Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve been here,” Naomi admitted as they approached a four-way intersection. “I think it’s this way,” she continued and turned down the left path. “Anyway, twenty-five years ago, it was little more than basically a backwater pub. Could hardly draw a crowd to save a life. But I suppose that it was enough to keep the doors open. One night, a councilman had gotten so drunk and started hitting on a male Veylar.”

  Another intersection, another left turn. “Supposedly, the councilman was straight but drunk enough to forget the difference. Veylar males don’t exactly pass for female, not with those chests. Did you see our envoy supervisor earlier? She certainly had a monster pair. Makes you wonder if they get back pains the same as we do when they’re so well stacked.”

  Jersey failed to stifle a laugh. He loved that about Naomi. She was not afraid to speak her mind, no matter how blunt.

  “Anyway, back to what I was saying before,” She continued. “It's possible the counselor was secretly bisexual. Nobody knows for sure. Or, maybe he was just too drunk to care. Either way, he kept pushing. The Veylar pushed back hard—ripped his arm clean off. That’s how this place got its following. It became known as ‘The First Blood Incident,’ and it grew to practically legendary status.”

  “That’s an interesting story,” Jersey admitted. “What happened to the Veylar after?”

  “He was arrested and put on trial for the incident,” Naomi answered. “But with the overwhelming evidence in his favor from the many witnesses and the video surveillance, he was acquitted and released.”

  Finally, Naomi recognized where she was and knew that they were close. She led them the remainder of the way silently before stopping just outside the unassuming steel door. Etched into the door’s steel surface was an abstract droplet, stylized to resemble an eye mid-blink. It wasn’t painted or inlaid. It was carved into the metal itself. To the casual observer, it was nothing special.

  But it was.

  Every few minutes, without warning, it would come alive. It started as a soft pulse beginning at the top like liquid light seeping into the lines. The glow would then start to roll downward in a slow cascade, illuminating the entire symbol in a muted blue-white shimmer. For a brief second, the glow would hold, fully lit, like the eye was watching. Then the same would happen in reverse, only this time, the light would fade and disappear.

  “Ah, yes,” Naomi said with a grin. “Here it is. I’m not going to go in there with you, but I want you to have a great time, just as I did the first time I went in. It was where I first made love to your father…I mean Lorenzo. I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

  Jersey shot her a confused look. “That was odd,” he announced. “Are you…Do you need me to stay with you for a little while?”

  “Oh no, I’m fine. I promise,” Naomi answered, embarrassed. “I haven’t seen my children in years. Not in person, as I told you on the ship. I don’t think you understand how much I miss them and how I wish things could be different. But I made a career choice, and it cost me my family. I didn’t mean to project it on you, and for that, I am truly sorry. It was an honest slip-up.”

  Jersey eyed her for several silent seconds. He wasn’t quite sure he understood her plight, but he gave it his best effort. She wasn’t his mother, and they both knew that. Lorenzo wasn’t his father. It was just an unexpected remark that caught him completely by surprise. He finally decided that she was being genuine and elected to let the matter drop. “It’s ok. I won’t lie. You are one of my favorite shipmates. You’re kind. Hell, you’re beautiful. But I respect boundaries. I won’t hold this against you, but please try to control yourself.”

  Naomi accessed her wrist computer. She made a few quick taps on her virtual keyboard and then swiped it off again. Jersey’s wrist computer made a quick tone, indicating an unseen notification. He checked his own, and his jaw dropped. Naomi had just sent him two thousand credits, without being asked.

  “Oh my God, Naomi,” he boasted in shock. “No. Don’t do this. I don’t need your money. You don’t owe me a damned thing.”

  “Shut up, Jersey,” Naomi shot back, not rude, but with a smile. “I don’t care if you don’t need it. I don’t care if you didn’t ask for it. I gave you those credits because I wanted to. I’m not taking them back. I am giving you an order. You are to take those credits inside that nightclub, and you are to have a great time. Consider it my gift to you.”

  She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. It wasn’t romantic or maternal. It felt more passive than anything. Then she started walking away, turned a corner, and disappeared.

  Jersey was at a loss for words over what had just happened. Naomi had accidentally slipped up and then gave him two thousand credits and told him to go have a good time. He wasn’t going to complain. He liked Naomi. But it simply felt wrong and right at the same time. He reached up to his face and lightly rubbed where she’d kissed him. Afterwards, he activated the automatic doors and stepped inside.

  Inside The Watering Hole, energy pulsed from every corner. The air was thick with movement, laughter, and the low thump of music—tribal rhythms layered over crystalline synths. Pink velvet seats shimmered under shifting lights, casting the lounge in shifting hues of rose and violet. The scent in the air was a heady blend: sharp citrus, sweet liqueur, and the faintest trace of ozone from overworked electronics. Perfume and sweat mingled, alive with the promise of possibility.

  Natey stepped in without hesitation. Her heels clicked once against the entry tile before the sound was swallowed by the club’s pulse. She didn’t need to scan the room. She already knew its rhythm. The bar to the left, the dance floor to the right, the stages tucked deeper in. She’d been here enough times to know which booths had the best view, which bartenders poured heaviest, and which corners to avoid when things got too loud.

  She moved like someone who belonged but didn’t linger.

  Her dress caught the eye before she did. It was sleek, sleeveless, and cut to flatter without revealing, an elegant contradiction. The fabric shimmered faintly, alive with slow-moving visuals that pulsed and shifted like liquid light. No rhythm, no pattern, just a quiet, mesmerizing glow that danced across her body in waves of violet, silver, and deep blue. It was the kind of dress that made people stare without knowing why. Ethereal and cool to touch. It didn’t scream for attention. It earned it.

  Corley and Ladan entered directly behind her. Like Natey, they were dressed for the night but tuned to a different frequency.

  Corely’s charcoal button-down caught the bar lights with a soft sheen, sleeves rolled to the forearms like he’d already decided he might dance, or fight, if it came to it. His jeans were dark and tailored, and his boots matte and deliberate. He moved with quiet confidence, scanning the room not for attention, but for intention. A leather band circled his wrist, worn smoothly at the edges, and his gaze held the kind of calm that made people second-guess their own noise.

  Ladan, by contrast, radiated warmth. His short-sleeved button-up bloomed with sunset tones, orange, navy, and hints of gold, like a mural stitched into fabric. His jeans were lived-in, his sneakers spotless. A silver chain glinted at his collarbone, and his smile came easy, already syncing with the rhythm of the room. He didn’t walk so much as glide, like the music had found him early.

  Together, they didn’t announce themselves. They arrived. Natey was the center of gravity. Corely and Ladan were like satellites orbiting around her. And The Watering Hole felt it, like something had shifted just slightly in the air.

  Corley leaned in to say something, but Natey didn’t respond. Her eyes fully surveyed the club, taking in the diversity within. Two Q’Van bouncers in their enviro-suits stood near the entrance providing necessary security, their red chest-plates emitting a weak, but noticeable glow. The club’s owner, another Q’Van, sat in his personal booth, collecting the cover charges for backroom rentals.

  At the bar, a young man sat alone at one end with an empty stool beside him. Several other patrons nursed drinks, lost in conversation or contemplation. Behind the bar, two Veylar bartenders mixed drinks with practiced efficiency, while a beautiful Incani female worked the point-of-sale terminal, her core pulsing a soft green—calm, content. A short line of customers waited, quietly hopeful for their turn.

  “Why don’t you two go get us a table really quick, and I’ll go get us some drinks,” Ladan volunteered. He nearly had to shout so that his voice could carry above the music and noise. He stepped away and approached the back of the line.

  Natey and Corley made their way to their favorite corner booth that was surprisingly empty and sat down, waiting for Ladan to join them with their alcohol. Natey surveyed the room, taking in the night’s crowd. In a nearby booth, a somewhat beefy human male was seated next to a female Veylar, and their lips were kissing each other with furious intent.

  Natey stared at them for a moment. She usually wasn’t one to judge, but in her own opinion, the man wasn’t exactly someone desirable, and neither was the Veylar. This led her to believe that it was a prime example of alcohol doing the talking. She instantly felt bad. She had been blessed with top-tier good looks and had little trouble landing a romantic companion. And yet here she was, subconsciously judging.

  Natey noticed that she wasn’t the only one watching them. Several other eyes were looking in their direction, and she could see their disgust. It wasn’t common, but some groups aboard the station were prejudiced against interspecies companionships. Usually directed at the Veylar and human pairings, as their visual contrast was strikingly different. Physiologically, they were somewhat genetically compatible, and a few hybrid children have been born. Of course, that was also true of Incani and Veylar, as well as Incani and humans. Though in human circles, hardly anybody cared if humans mated with an Incani.

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  Corley leaned slightly closer to Natey, pitching his voice above the thrum of music. “Seems louder than usual in here. I guess Var’Dahn cranked up the volume to drown out the shame.”

  Natey couldn’t help but laugh. “What shame?” she shot back with a smile. “He has run this place ever since it opened. He was here when the ‘First Blood Incident’ happened all those years ago. He didn’t close it then. I assure you, he will probably run this place until he dies, and then his son will take over.”

  Ladan had finally made his way through the drink line and now returned with three large glasses of alcohol. He slid Corley a screwdriver. Natey received a tequila with a squirt of strawberry syrup, unusual, but that’s what she liked. And Ladan chose a whiskey for himself.

  “Ladan, Natey is being a bit na?ve about what happens in this place,” Corley told him.

  “Hey,” she shot back, nudging him with her elbow, voice playful but firm. “I’m not na?ve. I was born here and have lived here all my life. I know this place better than either of you, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “Have you ever been in the back rooms?” Corley responded.

  This caught Ladan’s attention. He flashed a slightly indirect gaze in Natey’s direction. He’d held a long infatuation towards her for some time, but mostly kept it to himself. Years ago, before she started dating her recent ex, Jarai, they’d had a sober, one-night stand, and even though they both admitted the sex was great, nothing else ever came of it.

  “I’ve never been back there,” she answered truthfully. She took a large sip of her drink. “But if you think I don’t know what people do in there, you’re wrong. Who knows? After we get back from our assignment, I might try to find someone to go back there with.”

  “Why wait?” Ladan asked with a subtle hopefulness in his tone. “Why don’t you and I go rent a room together?”

  Natey and Corley laughed out loud. They assumed that Ladan was joking.

  “You’re funny,” Natey laughed. “So, you want to take me into the private rooms and ravage me before we leave the station tomorrow?”

  Corley laughed harder, but Ladan’s reaction was terrifyingly different. His response was lost to the bass, but he leaned in, meeting Natey’s gaze with unnerving intensity, and distinctly mouthed the word: Yes.

  Natey laughed again, truly believing Ladan was only trying to be funny, missing the desperation behind his words. She finished her drink, the tequila syrup burning sweetly. Tomorrow, they would depart, but tonight she was here to party and get lost in ecstasy—but her smile didn't reach her eyes. She was here for something else. “Hey, Corley, let me out, please.”

  “What?” he shot back, grinning mischievously. “Just one drink and already you gotta take a piss? I swear, you cannot handle your alcohol!”

  Natey knew Corley was only making a jab, and she responded in kind. “Hey now! I can handle my alcohol just fine. I don’t need to pee. I want to go over to the stripper stages and get myself a dance.”

  Both Ladan and Corley exchanged sharp glances with each other, and then back at her. Her words took them completely by surprise. “You’re bi?” Corley asked curiously. “I didn’t know that.”

  He slipped out of the circular booth to let her out. Once she was free, he slid back in. Natey turned to him and Ladan. “No. I’m not bi,” she clarified. “But I don’t mind getting another woman’s tits shoved in my face once in a while.” She paused for a moment and proceeded to adjust her own seductively, attempting to elicit a visual response from her friends. “Besides, I like to check out the competition.”

  From there, she spun around on the spot and made her way over to the stripper stages and approached the stage with a particularly attractive Incani female. The Incani approached her and began to give Natey a personal, erotic dance performance, and got very close in the process. The Incani’s Virellan Core, normally a soft ruby color, pulsed gently at the center of her chest, reflecting the initial, low-level engagement.

  After a few minutes, the song and the dance concluded, and Natey tipped the Incani generously. She started to walk away, but only managed a single step before deciding on a second course of action. Several nearby onlookers had stopped and watched her as she stayed in place. They could sense what Natey was thinking, and they truly wanted to see it.

  It soon started. A Veylar male stomped his foot. Then a human. Before long, nearly everybody around the stage had joined in, clapping, stomping, and chanting for Natey to get on stage. “Do it…Do it!” they urged.

  Finally, Natey smiled and climbed up on stage to the excited cheers of the crowd. The Incani heard Natey climb up and stopped in her tracks, turning to face her. It didn’t take her long to know what was up.

  The Incani stepped up close to Natey, and both women struck a starter pose and held still until the new song started. The ruby light of the Incani's Core began to intensify, shifting to a vivid crimson. When the beat took over, they started dancing slowly and erotically as though it was a highly practiced routine. The noise level seemed to increase, nearly drowning out the booming thrum of the music, especially when Natey started to slowly remove her dress without disrupting the dance flow. She then let it fall to the floor of the stage, revealing her skimpy lingerie, black lace, and straps that exposed every curve. Her choice was a declaration. She was sexy, and she knew it.

  The crowd noise erupted into nearly deafening levels at this time as Natey fully stepped out of her dress and closed the gap to the Incani. The Core now radiated a powerful, vivid crimson light, reflecting the rising peak of her excitement. While neither woman was fully nude, it certainly didn’t kill the intense, sexy vibe, and everybody was loving it.

  From the booth, Ladan stopped talking to Corley for several moments. He focused his eyes on Natey, with his mouth fully agape. He wasn’t expecting the show by any means. As he stared, his eyes narrowed when Natey and the Incani had danced so closely together that their bodies temporarily occupied the same physical space, just moments before they slowly, but briefly, locked their lips together.

  At the precise moment of contact, the Incani's Virellan Core erupted in a brilliant, almost blinding flash of crimson and gold. A thick, luminous aura instantly enveloped both women, sealing them off in a column of intense light, and the brilliant reflection scattered off their subtly perspiring skin like tiny, fiery stars. They repeated the action several times, the intense light pulsing with each kiss, a visible, mythological testament to their shared, powerful pleasure. The Core’s blinding light slowly faded back to a soft, rich ruby as the music died and the aura dissolved.

  The most deafening collection of cheers, foot stomps, wolf whistles, and audible celebrations rattled the entire building. It easily held sway with the noise you might hear from a professional sporting event.

  Natey stepped back inside her dress, the material gliding over her in a single, graceful movement. She gave a quick curtsey, the sound of the celebration still rattling the club’s core. She was grinning—a massive, genuine smile of pure triumph.

  When she reached the circular velvet bench, she paused. A fresh glass of her tequila with strawberry syrup sat waiting for her on the table. Beside it, her wrist computer gave several soft, private chimes, notifying her of credit transfers. She took a quick look and received quite the shock. She’d received far more in tips, completely recovering all she’d spent on the dancer five times over—at least.

  "Took you long enough," Corley said, a chuckle in his voice, oblivious to the subtext. "I didn't think you'd actually go through with it. That was... impressive."

  "I told you I checked the competition," Natey said, settling in and taking a large swallow of the gifted drink. She met Ladan's gaze—it was still intense, but he forced his tight smile back into place.

  "It was certainly memorable," Ladan said, his voice flat, attempting casualness but betraying a hint of tension. "A little surprising, though. I guess I didn't realize you were so... performative in public."

  "Surprising?" Natey challenged lightly, tilting her head. "I thought you knew me better than that, Ladan."

  "I thought I did," he admitted, voice growing softer, letting the jealousy slip through. "But a lot has changed." He forced a laugh, shifting the subject. "Can we at least not striptease on the ship tomorrow? We have our assignments, and if I have to stare at that smoking hot half-naked body of yours, I might not be able to perform my duties to the best of my abilities."

  Natey smiled and then teased, “So you think my body is sexy, do you?”

  “Girl, you already know I do,” Ladan retorted, grinning slyly. “Don’t forget, we’ve had sex in the past. I’ve seen you fully naked. Felt your warmth against my skin.”

  Natey’s mouth shot open in a flash. Her smile vanished. She remembered, but Ladan had just crossed a monumental line. This had been years ago—a single night that she'd moved on from. She was appalled that he decided to bring that up now, in front of Corley.

  “Ladan!” she snapped, leaning forward, her voice sharp with emotion. “Yes, I fucked you once, a long time ago. I know you like me, but in ways I can’t reciprocate. I’m sorry. You’re my friend, and I love you as such. Do I regret having sex with you? No, I do not,” she added, enunciating each word with slow, deliberate force. “We had fun that night, but that’s all it will ever be between us. Can that not be enough? You got to have me.”

  The words, though delivered beneath the club’s noise, were thick with finality and pain. Ladan didn't respond, merely staring, the look of silent jealousy now turning into raw, painful humiliation. Corley wisely kept his eyes fixed on his drink.

  The party atmosphere soured. They had all come in to get drunk and have a good time before their deployment, but now the fun had evaporated. The mood at the corner booth felt like a funeral.

  Natey hadn’t lied to Ladan. She truly did not regret their sexual history. They had explored an intimate connection, but she just couldn’t find anything in her heart to allow it to happen again. She glanced from Ladan to Corley and back to Ladan. The excitement had faded into the night, replaced by a whisper of sorrow. Ladan had ceased talking, while Corley simply stayed silent, his focus only on his drink.

  Natey gazed down onto her own empty glass. “I’ll be back in a few, guys. I’m going to go get another round.” Her not offering to buy refills for her friends would have seemed strange on a normal evening, but with the deadened atmosphere, nobody bothered to question it.

  She slipped out of the booth and started making her way to the bar. The line, she saw, was still quite long. She didn’t want to stand at the end. Instead, she surveyed the area and her eyes caught the lone young man sitting at the bar, the same one she’d noticed when they came in. He hadn’t moved an inch, and the stool still sat empty beside him. Natey made up her mind.

  She casually strode up to the empty stool. She reached out, considering a light touch on his shoulder, but stopped mere inches from him, deciding against the physical approach. “Excuse me, but is this seat taken?”

  The young man looked over in her direction. He gave her a quick, head-to-toe examination, taking in her shimmering dress, before locking onto her eyes. “No, would you like to sit down?”

  Natey was flustered. She’d only seen him from the back before, but the moment he turned, and she saw his face, she immediately grew weak in the knees. He was far more attractive than she’d expected him to be. This felt odd. Why would someone like him be seated all alone at the bar? He probably could have walked up to any woman there and secured himself a companion for the night, yet he hadn’t.

  “T-thank you,” she stammered as she took the seat next to him, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. She was profoundly thankful she managed to maintain her balance and that he hadn’t noticed the stumble.

  “Name’s Jersey,” the man informed her as she sat down. “Nice to meet you, especially after your little dance number. I can’t recall a time I was that turned on.”

  Natey was embarrassed, slightly. She wielded her confidence like a weapon. She knew what she brought to the table, but this young man was involuntarily tugging at her emotional strings. Even her ex-boyfriend hadn’t made her this nervous. “I—e—uh…” She couldn’t find any words to respond. Her cheeks turned bright red, betraying her control.

  “Bartender, could you get a drink for the lady, please?” Jersey called out. The bartender nodded his head and immediately got to work filling the order, recognizing Natey. Jersey turned his attention back to Natey. “You seem like you’re a bit scrambled. That should fix you right up.”

  Natey smiled nervously but mustered a clear and concise “Thank you.” She stayed silent after that and waited for the bartender to bring her beverage. She had never felt so awkward in her life. It wasn’t a bad thing, just unexpected.

  It didn’t take long for her drink to arrive. “Take a drink. You look like you need it,” the Veylar bartender said as he sat the mug down in front of her.

  Jersey paid and tipped him from his wrist computer before the bartender returned to his duties.

  Natey grabbed the mug’s handle and sipped up a hefty drink through the straw before replacing it on the bar. The drink had helped Natey regain her composure. “You watched my dance?”

  “I sure did,” Jersey answered quickly. “When the crowd started cheering and chanting, I just had to turn around to see what the fuss was all about, and then when you jumped on stage, I couldn’t turn away. You’re quite the performer. You seem as though you felt at home up on that stage. Is that what you do here?”

  Natey laughed. “No. I’ve never done that before. It was an...experience.”

  Jersey echoed Natey’s laugh. “Yes. Yes, it was. You had me entranced, to say the least.”

  “Well, thank you,” Natey said with a grin. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show. I enjoyed giving it, to be honest. The strangest part is that I’m not attracted to women like that. I just did it. Does that make any sense?”

  “Yes,” Jersey answered. “And no. But I don’t think it matters. You know who and what you are. You did something that goes against your internal perception of yourself, and as long as you are accepting of your decision, that’s what’s important.”

  “Yeah,” Natey responded quietly. “I guess you’re right. I had the thought, the crowd apparently read me, and they gave me the push I needed to just do it. And I did. I’d probably do it again, to be honest.”