Isadora is on the run again, and her only option is to convince Captain Oscar Roma to give her passage on the ratty freighter Stella Buena. Broke, she has to accept his terms, and they have everything to do with satisfying his lust as well as that of Las Vegas, a hermaphrodite Demrik.
She is sharing the cargo hold with a couple of genetically engineered studs that have black market modifications.
What can possibly go wrong?
Besides almost everything.
But from her perspective, hot, erotic action with multiple partners triumphs over adversity every time. A creature has to be adaptable, right?
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
Climbing the boarding ramp of the Stella Buena, I experienced a moment of actual fear. The ratty old freighter was my lifeline… if I could convince the captain to help me out.
He had to help me. Suddenly, the otherwise routine task of getting off Tyrsa II had become the most important thing in my life. In fact, without delving into nauseating detail, if I had to remain on Tyrsa II much longer, it would likely be the last thing I ever did.
I wasn’t ready for the last thing in my life to come up. Not yet.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to be sneaky about my intentions to get off planet as fast as possible. After the unfortunate events that had played out, I wasn’t the only one on that planet who thought me leaving immediately was a good thing.
The authorities made that clear.
“Now!” was the word the magistrate used.
Checking the flight schedules, I found this ship, the interplanetary freighter Stella Buena, was the only ship leaving the planet for the next week. But a lack of transport was, in the words of the same magistrate, my problem. I was to be gone ASAP.
I noted that Stella Buena’s scheduled flight plan involved a long hop and then a three-day layover on a planet I would rather avoid if that was possible. Not that I was in trouble there, nothing major, anyway, not the kind of situation that risked my life and liberty, but it wasn’t a nice place to while away the time.
The second issue I had with what appeared to be my only option was that Stella Buena, despite its name (Good Star), was at best a rather sketchy freighter.
But choice was a luxury I didn’t have.
I had a passing acquaintance with the ship’s Captain, Oscar Ramo. Whether that would prove to be a plus or minus remained to be seen. Oscar was a Rigel Blue. Not to profile or diminished the ability of any creature to become more than the sum of their genes, but it was a race well known to produce skilled traders who tended to be less than conscientious Captains.
Oscar was the poster boy for that. I knew him to be incredibly fond of himself… self indulgent. I doubted he willing squandered a great deal of love and affection on his ship, much less any significant money. The saying: “if it ain’t entirely essential, jury rig it,” comes to mind.
Rigel Blues are fond of a fat and juicy bottom line.
The look in his eyes when I came on board told me the plant’s rumor mill was grinding away at full tilt. Oscar didn’t look the least surprised to see me.
He’d heard the story and he knew the schedules better than I did and would have predicted my arrival with a probability of one-hundred percent.
His smile said it all. Seeing me coming to him, walking on his ship and knowing that I needed to ask him for a favor, pleased him a lot.