Page 1 of Warped

PART ONE:

SHE’S OUR TROUBLE NOW

CHAPTER 1: REK

Ihave to admit, I’m not exactly thrilled by the prospect of meeting our new Warp companion in this club.

To call it seedy would be an understatement. As soon as I walk through the door, my nostrils are hit with the smell of cheap liquor and casual sex. Pounding music shakes the darkness, setting the tempo for the topless dancers who are writhing for credbits on their little spotlit platforms scattered around the room. Yet loud as it is, the headache-inducing drum-and-bass doesn’t quite drown out the other raucous sounds bubbling up from the hazy shadows—a peal of drunken laughter, a glass breaking, a fight.

Yeah. Definitelynotthe kind of place I would usually look for a companion.

But today I have no choice.

The companion Traven and I usually employ when we visit this sector was already engaged with another set of clients, and she won’t be back for several weeks. Our second choice is out sick. Our third got cold feet and backed out at the last minute, leaving us high and dry.

If we’re going to meet our delivery schedule, we have to leave today, and there’s no way in hell we’re going through the Warpgate without a companion on board. We tried that once, a few cycles back.

Never again.

So, here I am in this dark, dirty club, meeting for our Plan D.

I found her on WarpSeekers.com, the website Traven and I use to find new companions. Her handle is Binxxx, and just in case the three Xs in her name didn’t make it clear what she’s all about, her profile was one of the dirtiest I’ve read in a while. Never spits, always swallows. Loves taking it up the ass. Specializes in getting drilled by two cocks at the same time.

Thirsty. Experienced. Super submissive.

All in all, a good fit for Traven’s and my interests.

Of course, Traven disagreed. He said her profile sounded tryhard, like she’d written what she thought a warper wanted to hear, rather than whatsheactually wanted. Traven’s usually a pretty good judge of character. As a matter of fact, he’sneverwrong. But then I reminded him of the pickle we’re in, and he reluctantly agreed.

I knew he would.

Traven might be a hardass, but he’s a predictable hardass. It’s one of the reasons I like working with him. No clue why he likes working with me, but I guess he does. We’ve been warping together for many cycles now, and we make a pretty good team.

Traven’s what you would call no-nonsense, but to make a living in this crazy galaxy, you gotta be willing to put up with a certain amount of nonsense from time to time.

That’s where I come in.

This club’s a good example. Traven wouldn’t last two minutes in this joint. Or, more accurately, this place would last two minutes with Traven inside it.

It was Binxxx who suggested we meet here. I was kind of hoping she would be sitting close to the front door. No such luck. I decide to take a lap around the place to see if I can spot her. Based on her profile pic, she has dark hair, collagen-enhanced DSLs, and the biggest pair of bolt-on tits I’ve ever seen.

Maybe she’ll spot me first. She’s seen my photos too, so she knows what I look like too: six-ten, athletic, pale blue skin touched with silver. Those are all fairly typical characteristics for a seasoned warper like myself. My more distinguishing features would be my dark hair and short, black beard. I also let her know what I’d be wearing—black boots, black jeans, and a black shirt with sleeves short enough to display the tattoo encircling my right upper arm, proof of my membership in the Warpers Guild.

I’ve been told before that I look imposing. If that’s true, then Traven looks downright terrifying. That’s another reason whyhe’sstill back on the ship, andI’mthe one doing the meet and greet in this dump.

It ain’t easy being the nice one.

As I make my way toward the bar at the back of the room, the dancers wiggle at me, displaying the barcodes tattooed on their asses in the hopes that I’ll scan them a few credbits. I ignore them and keep moving.

Glancing into the booths around the sides of the room, I see a woman who looks a lot like the one I’m looking for, but she appears to be taken. She’s nestled up against a big, burly warper like myself, happily petting the sizable bulge at the front of his jeans. As I move past, she discreetly slides her whole body under the table and positions herself between his thighs.

I think it’s a safe bet she’s not looking for a missing earring under there.

A burst of noise from the other side of the room grabs my attention. A pair of warpers are standing next to a pool table, arguing. I can’t quite hear what they’re saying over the music, but I have a feeling it has something to do with the buxom blonde perched on the table between them.

In the blink of an eye, the argument turns physical. One of the men hits the other over the head with a pool cue. The stick snaps, and the end of it comes whirling in my direction like a mini helicopter.

My reflexes kick in, and I catch the spinning piece of wood before it hits me in the face. The two warpers don’t even notice. They’re too busy beating the hell out of each other while the blonde watches.

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