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The air whips my hair into my face, so I tie it back.
“It’s been a long time since I was in an open cockpit craft.”
“Isn’t it great?” Elena laughs and gestures toward the horizon. “This planet didn’t develop sapient life on its own, so there have never been any fossil fuels burning up the atmosphere, no chemicals contaminating the groundwater, none of that BS. Just pure clean land and air as far as the eye can see.”
“You sound like you’ve really embraced the frontier life.”
“Yes, I have. Now tell me more about this Yarvok of yours…”
“He’s not mine, jeez.”
“Not yet.”
She lands the craft at her ranch, a gorgeous patch of land on gently rolling hills. Elena has some crops as well, but most of her farm is dedicated to harvesting the precious Bey milk, which can be made into many different products. I’ve had Bey cheese before at a resort and it’s one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted.
Her house is relatively simple, and despite its modern materials the inside looks every bit the rustic farm from earth’s late twentieth century. I get to meet her towering husband, a Vakutan as big and burly as Yarvok. Brom greets me with a gentle handshake and a gentler smile. I’m not fooled, I can tell by the way he flirts with Elena that he’s a real caveman in bed.
The two of them talk me into going out with them. I put on one of my favorite clubbing dresses, a backless little black dress with a flared skirt. A crimson swirling pattern changes constantly across the bodice. I feel a little overdressed, but Elena won’t let me change.
We head into Touchdown just after dusk. The city has lit up in a hundred different colors. We make for the nightlife section, such as it is. There are two clubs, one catering primarily to humans, Vakutans, and other former Alliance species, and another catering to those who served with the Ataxians during the centuries war.
I probably wouldn’t be let into the Ataxian place for the shortness of my skirt. Brom knows the bouncer at the Alliance digs and helps us bypass the line. Inside, it’s crowded with different sapient beings either talking at tables, drinking at the bar, or shaking what they’ve got on the dance floor.
The whole place is done up to look like an old timey tavern from the old west.
“Be warned,” Elena shouts in my ear “the drinks are expensive as hell because of the tariffs. If you want to drink cheap you have to go with the crummy rotgut stuff the moonshiners produce.”
“Moonshiners?”
“Stupid Erebus Collective won’t give a business license to a brewery,” Brom says with a dark expression. “All so they can collect hefty fees in tariff form.”
We take up position at a table overlooking the dance floor itself, but close enough to the bar to catch the server’s attention when they pass by. The tables have a cool sonic force field that muffles the deafening club music while you sit down. That way you can actually talk without shouting.
“So you’ve never heard of this Yarvok?” Elena asks Brom.
He scowls and shakes his head.
“No, I can’t say as I have. He’s either new to Touchdown or…”
“Or what?”
“It’s nothing, but there used to be a not exactly on the books fighting ring around here, before the EC shut it down. The reigning champion for months was a Vakutan named Yar the Scar. Couldn’t be the same guy, though.”
“Yar the Scar?”
Brom turns his scaled visage my way.
“Yeah.” He pantomimes a line across his chest. “Right over his heart. If you ask me it’s a wound from a power blade. Not much else could do enough damage to scar a vakutan.”
I shudder at the thought. Was Yarvok hiding a scar under his clothing? Possibly. It’s not the idea of a scar that bothers me, but the horrific injury which must have caused it.
Then, as if he were summoned by my thoughts, who do I see come in the door but Yarvok. My jaw almost hits the floor, because he cleans up very well. He’s wearing a sharply tailored black suit, the high collar helping to accentuate his broad shoulders. His scales have been freshly buffed and have a healthy sheen.
“Is that the guy?”
I don’t even turn to look at Elena when I respond.
“That’s the guy.”
