Coming Soon

Flight of the Titania
~ An Erotic Science-Fiction Novel ~

- One -
Flight Dreams

Queenie Tate's ear-cuff communicator crackled.

"Hey Queenie, you have to come see this starship in berth: oh-five-seven!"

"Hang on a sec!" Queenie replied. The receiver sensor stuck to her jaw vibrated a tiny amount as it sent her voice to Jem's earcom. She rolled out from under her propped up turbo-glider and wiped her hands down her thighs. She flinched. "Damn." Black streaks marked the over-sized military green coveralls where her hands had been. "This is my last clean set too."

She grabbed for the red rag sitting over the glider's saddle and wiped at the rest of the filth from her hands. "Damn air pollution." The glider picked up an incredible amount of grime just from flying through the city, and all she did was soar from the dockyard to the Academy, then back. Giving it up for a loss, she tossed the rag under the glider.

"So, what is it Jem?" With mostly clean fingers, she released the diagnostics data link from the glider then unhooked the corresponding clip from the jack set in the back of her skull, stuffing both link and the clip in her pocket. She turned around, brushing the ragged ends of her cropped hair behind her ears. "Jem?"

She stepped out of the small service corner reserved for her dad's use as Dock Master, and into the broad curving roadway that circled the inertial shield. She glance one way and then the other looking for the tall lanky boy. She could just make out berth: oh-five-seven on the distant curve of this level, but she didn't see a ship in it, which meant that the craft had to be small. Nor did she see Jem. "Where are you?"

The hum of a passing hover-barge heavily laden with cargo drowned out anything he might have replied.

Her earcom hissed.

"... weirdest thing I ever saw!"

Queenie tapped her earcom for better reception. "Fine, whatever. I'm at my glider."

"You're always at your glider..." The distant figure of Jem appeared from a berth on the opposite side of the level. He was standing on his upright hovering forklift in coveralls like hers. "Anyway, get on it, and get over here!" He waved.

"Is their room for my glider in the berth?"

"Oh yeah, it's no bigger than a pleasure-jet. There's enough room for another full sized starship."

"Oh, all right, I'll power up and be right there." She strolled back to her glider and manhandled it off the repair-lifts by the handle grips. The craft landed on its two wheels and rolled back. She threw her leg over the saddle and turned the key. The small electro-turbine engine whirred to life, and began power cycling. The glider's vibrations hummed pleasantly from her butt up her spine.

Her earcom crackled.

"When are you going to dump that hunk of scrap and get a real glider?"

Queenie snorted. "I'll get a new glider when I can afford one that can out-fly my Falconwing." She backed the glider and eased it around toward the four-lane main passage that ran along this level's shield wall.

"That's going to be one expensive glider. That may have been a Falconwing when it started out, but you must have up-graded every part on it at least twice."

"Something like that..." Queenie juiced the power and the glider leaped forward onto the curving highway, and sped along the curved floor toward the berth. "So what's so weird about this starship?"

"You are not going to believe this, but I think it's a Fey Class solar sail."

Queenie rolled her eyes. "You've been sniffing fuel again, haven't you?" She dodged around a slow-moving cargo-tram and sped toward the berth. "Really Jem, there is no such thing as a Fey class anything. It's a fiction!"

"I didn't think so either, then I got a good look at this ship. I swear it's a Fey!"

Queenie eased the glider into the cavernous berth and frowned. A tiny ship was nestled in the farthest corner of the berth. The lights seemed to be out right where it sat. The whole thing was nearly invisible. If she hadn't been looking for it, her gaze would have passed right over it. She powered down the glider, activated the upright supports, and dismounted. "A Fey Class, huh?"

Jem grinned down at her from the driver's cage of the lift and pointed. "Seriously now, what starship do you know of, looks like that?"

Queenie walked toward the far corner to take a closer look. "It's different, I'll give you that." The gracefully curved hull was sleek, as though made of liquid, and dark like a smoked mirror. Six delicate and clawed legs supported the slender body. "But, I still think you've been watching too many videos."

Jem gave her a lop-sided smile. "Just take a look, a good look."

"All right, already..." Queenie examined the curving lines of the ship and frowned. The closer she got, the more the ship looked like a living thing than a piece of machinery. The elegant shape strongly suggested the gently undulated body of a moth complete with smoke-dark forward-view windows for eyes, and a sensor array that curved back over the body like antenna. Sturdy atmosphere wings emerged from the lower body and arched gently upwards like those of a raptor beetle.

Queenie had seen something like this -- on hundreds of the cover plates to fiction discs. In the vast emptiness of space, the ship would deploy three pairs of Phalar sails, each one miles in width for trapping the slightest touch of starlight, giving the ship its true form. As it was now, the mnemetic photo-reactive fullerene fabric was folded within the ship, taking up about the same space, and average weight, of an ordinary briefcase.

Queenie could barely breathe past her pounding heart. It was a Fey Class solar-sail ship. It was myth, come to life.

"So, what do you think Queenie?"

"It's incredible... This is an honest to God, Fey." There wasn't one child in all, the known universe that hadn't dreamed of flying a Fey Class ship -- herself, included. She took a step toward it. "I want to touch it..."

"Whoa, hey now!" Jem ran up and grabbed her arm. "Don't!"

Queenie gave him a savage glare and looked pointedly at her arm. "Let go."

Jem flinched but hung on. "Queenie, you know you can't do that with one of these! They're linked directly to their pilots. You touch this and the pilot feels it like it was his skin."

Queenie snorted. "Oh come on! That's just a story."

"Actually, it's true," someone said in amusement. "That's how I fly him." A tall and very handsome man stepped from behind the craft, to stand only a few feet away by the craft's nose. He was dressed in a sleek skin-hugging pilot's suit the same odd smoke-silver color as the craft.

"Oh shit," Jem said softly.

Queenie stared with open-mouthed admiration. The flight-suit showed every contour, and bulge of his very masculine body. She had seen a lot of well-built men, but this guy was incredibly different and exotic. Long smoked-silver hair, almost the color of his ship, flowed over one shoulder from under a rather ratty, but bright red, billed cap. His silver mane was so long, the end brushed his hips. It looked as though it had never been cut.

Jem swallowed hard. "Are you the pilot?"

"Yes." He walked toward them. "I'm Robin Gray."

Queenie could not stop staring. Gray moved with liquid grace, like a dancer, instead of the usual stiff precision of military men. He stopped before her and she looked up into non-human silver eyes. She knew she was tall for a girl, but her head only came to his chin. She flushed and bit her lip. "Um, we were just admiring your ship, sir."

Gray raised a brow at Queenie. "And you are?"

Queenie licked her lips. She was having a hard time stringing two thoughts together. "Uh, I'm Queenie Tate, and this is Dockman, Jem Longshore." Her voice came out embarrassingly breathless.

Gray nodded at Jem. "Nice to meet you, Dockman Longshore." Abruptly he turned to Queenie. "Tate? As in Dock Master Tate?"

Queenie flushed. "My dad."

Gray grinned. "Oh, I was worried that I was talking to his wife."

Queenie was horrified. "Why do I look old?"

"Not at all." Gray smiled. "And I'm glad you like my ship. He's the Oberon."

Queenie thought she was going to die on the spot. No smile should be that beautiful! She swallowed and said the first thing she could think of: "Is the Oberon really a Fey Class?"

Gray nodded. "Yes, and the only one of his kind. Oh, and I'd uh, really appreciate it if you kept quiet about the Oberon being here."

"Sure, no problem." Jem sighed. "No one would believe us anyway."

Queenie nodded. "That's the truth. I'm staring at it, and I don't believe it."

Jem frowned. "You said that the Oberon is the only one of his kind? I thought that Fey Class ships were made in pairs?"

Gray looked over at Jem. "They are. The Oberon's mate is out there somewhere, or the Oberon wouldn't still exist. When one is destroyed, the other dies with it."

"Mated?" She frowned. "Then the Oberon is male, so the other ship is female?"

Gray turned back to look at Queenie. "Yes, but no one has seen her in a generation or so."

Queenie raised a brow. "They never mentioned any of that in the fictions."

Gray tilted his head at Queenie. "Speaking of pairs, are you two...?"

"Who? Me and Jem?" Queenie choked back a laugh.

Jem flushed violently. "Oh hell no, I'm not that brave! Too much temper for me."

"Hey!" Queenie shot Jem a sharp glance.

"See what I mean?" Jem grinned.

Queenie folded her arms and frowned. "I'm not with anyone."

Gray raised a cool brow. "They let the women run around the docks unaccompanied here do they?"

Queenie gave Gray a feral grin. "I've never had a problem defending my own honor. I'm not exactly helpless."

"You could say that again." Jem rolled his eyes. "I think she likes to pick fights."

"Hey, I don't need to pick fights, they come after me!" Queenie glared at Jem.

"We're all trained for combat from childhood." Jem ginned. "Queenie just happens to have more practice using it then some." He ducked back, to avoid Queenie's swat.

"Combat-trained?" Gray frowned. "Isn't Helmsgard Prime a Starscape Company settlement? A civilian colony world?"

Jem snorted. "It's supposed to be civilian, but Helmsgard Prime is mostly retired military families. All those war-heroes want their kids to follow in their footsteps, so Warren became a military training enclave."

Queenie tilted her head at Gray. "I thought everyone knew we were a military enclave? Isn't it on your data charts?"

"I've been flying out on the rim a while." Gray ducked his head. "Some of my info is probably out of date."

"You should be able to get the current data and charts for the entire Empire while you're here." Jem grinned. "Warren is set up to prep-train officers and starship navigation-pilots, but they also do prep-training for heavy combat soldiers for the Empire, so everything is really current."

Gray rolled his eyes. "I would drop onto a military world where the women are trained to fight as well as the men..."

Queenie crossed her arms and raised a brow. "Is that bad?"

Gray grinned. "Not really, no."

Jem tilted his head and tapped his earcom. "Damn, I gotta go. I got something needs to be space-jumped." He shot a narrow glance at Queenie. "Don't stay too long, and don't forget the time Queenie."

Queenie scowled. "I have my chrono on and the alarms set. I'm good."

"Good!" Jem nodded at Gray. "A pleasure to meet you Pilot Gray."

"You too, Dockman Longshore."

Jem grinned then sprinted for his hover-lift. "Don't get into trouble Queenie!" he shouted, and was gone.

"Who? Me?" She shouted back.

"So, Queenie..." Gray smiled. "Do you still want to touch my ship?"

Queenie turned sharply around. "Can I?"

Gray gave her a smile that would melt steel. "It would be my pleasure. Follow me."

Queenie followed Gray toward the starship in wonder. She'd never seen a hull that looked like this. It gave the impression of liquid softness. When she finally got up to one of the delicate supports, they didn't look quite so delicate anymore and the ship stretched yards over her head. There was no way she could touch it.

"Over here."

Queenie saw Gray standing on a lift platform along the backside of the ship hidden behind one of the wings. She loped over, grabbed the rail and hopped on. The lift rose until the broadside of the craft met the lift's edge. She frowned. There was no airlock door. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen anyway to get a body or cargo into the craft.

"Ah, that's better..."

Queenie turned to see that Gray had pulled off his ratty, red hat. A pair of pale silver antennae about a finger-width thick, arched from his temples. They curved around framing his head becoming more slender and delicate before they curved down and ended at the back.

"You don't mind, do you?" Gray pulled the zipper tab of his suit down exposing his muscular throat and the upper swells of a very interesting chest."The suit is a bit binding."

"Uh, no, I'm good." Queenie swallowed hard. His chest had some kind of markings on it. Tattoos? Circuitry? She couldn't tell. "Are you um, human?" She flinched, Oh way to go! Let's insult the man why don't we?

Gray snorted. "I was when I started out, if that's what you're asking."

"You're a cyborg?" She frowned. "You don't look like one."

Gray grinned. "Yes, and no, and thank-you, I think." He leaned one shoulder against the ship's side then swept his hand against the hull. "I'm a cyborg in that I've been augmented to direct-link to the ship's system." He pointed to his antennae. "But it was done on the DNA level with antique protein-based nano-technology, atom-sized living machines. It was grown within me. So I'm less mechanical, but no less, machine."

"You're strictly nano-tech? No robotics?" Queenie reached out and swept her hand across the hull's surface. It didn't feel like steel, though it felt that strong, and it was warm. It didn't feel like plastic either. It was the oddest sensation, as though she were touching skin, but at the same time there was no give.

Gray sighed softly and rolled over to lean back against the ship. His eyes were closed. "There are robotics in me, but not the same kind you see in everyone else. It wasn't manufactured elsewhere and implanted. It was grown internally. The nano-tech running through me built it on the cellular level using the ship's elements and my body as resources."

"It did a nice job." Queenie stroked the ship with both hands. "How did you end up piloting the Oberon?"

Gray groaned softly. "I was the navigational pilot of a Angel class warship when our ship took a fatal hit. I was able to drag the War Captain into an escape pod, but both of us weren't in good condition. He died when our small-craft crashed on the dead side of the planet."

"And?" Queenie prompted, then stroked the ship again.

Gray chuckled and looked over at her. "Swear to me you won't tell a soul and I'll tell you."

Queenie rolled her eyes then groaned, leaning her shoulder full against the ship's side "No one, and I mean no one will believe I even saw a Fey ship never mind spoke with the pilot!"

Gray raised a brow. "I'm waiting."

Queenie dropped her head against the side of the ship. "Fine. I swear, I won't tell a soul." She turned to look at him. "Feel better?"

"As long as you keep rolling against the side of my ship, like that, hell yeah." He groaned for good measure.

"Are you really feeling this?" She ran her nails lightly across the hull, and watched his reaction.

"Oh yeah." Gray leaned over to look at Queenie with a wicked smile. "Don't stop on my account."

"So you really feel me?" Queenie smiled then mashed her chest against the side of his ship and rubbed.

Gray bit his lip and arched his back. "You are a wicked girl Queenie Tate."

"That's what they tell me." Queenie grinned broadly, and swept her nails in a broader arc, using both hands.

Gray growled in pleasure then rolled off his back to catch Queenie in strong arms that pressed her back against the side of the ship. "If you're going to be wicked, I think you owe me at least a kiss in payment."

Queenie stilled, confused and a little afraid. He was fast really, really fast, and really strong. Her strength and speed was no match for his, and she suspected that he was just as skilled if not more so in fighting technique. She swallowed. She was not getting out of his hold unless he let her go.

He was also really interested. She could feel the heavy contour of a firm erection pressed very intimately against her.

Queenie took a nervous breath. He smelled of warm clean male. There was not one trace of the distinctive scent of cyborg about him. He smelled good. She was surprised by a warm melting sensation in her belly that was quickly followed by moisture in her panties. She swallowed. "Um, you said you were going to tell me the rest of how you became the Oberon's pilot."

Gray tilted his mouth toward hers. "Kiss me first."

"Just a kiss?"

"Just a kiss."

Queenie stared at the lush curve of his mouth. It was only a kiss. What could it hurt? She brought up her chin and met his lips half way. They were soft, and warm. His mouth opened and his tongue touched hers lightly. He tasted of warmth, wetness and something else, something like cinnamon... She reached out and stroked his tongue for a better taste, and he surged into her mouth to possess her more fully.

Warmth and tension coiled hard and fast in her belly, taking her by surprise. She'd never had this strong a reaction with anyone before. She wrapped her arms around his neck and took up handfuls of his long hair. It felt like the softest Terran silk.

He groaned into her mouth and pushed her back against the craft, crushing her breasts to his chest. His hips flexed, pressing hard and firm into the cradle of her hips. His mouth sucked, nipped, and feasted on her lips, and tongue with skilled devotion.

She sought to ravish his mouth just as eagerly as he sought to take hers. He tasted so good, he felt so good... Unable to stop herself, she rocked her hips against the tantalizing length of his hardness. She felt his hands slide down to cup her butt.

He grunted and lifted, raising her up against him in blatant demand.

She writhed in interested reply.

A groan escaped him. Suddenly he pulled away, breaking the kiss. "God!" He straightened his arms, pushing back with his hands flat against the hull, framing her.

Queenie made a groan of protest but let him slide from her arms. "What?"

"If I don't stop now, I'll take you against the side of my ship." He grinned. "Unless you want me to?"

Queenie blinked, and tried to get her thoughts back online. "Uh..."

A very masculine smile graced his lips. "That good huh?"

Queenie focused on his satisfied smirk, and snapped back to her senses. She gave him a cheeky grin. "Quite an ego you got there, Gray."

"After that kiss, call me Robin."

Queenie nodded. "So, what's the rest of your story Robin?"

Robin snorted then turned to lean back against the ship. He swept his hands through his hair. "Well..."

"Hey!" Queenie poked the side of the ship, knowing he'd feel it. "I kept my side of the bargain."

Robin barked out a laugh. "Okay, okay!" He turned and faced her, giving Queenie a detailed view of what had pressed so firmly against her belly. The flight-suit did not hide a single bulge. He leaned one shoulder against the ship, and folded his arms.

Queenie's cheeks heated. She swallowed then firmly looked up into his eyes. Her body was still in an erotic uproar. She was truly glad that the coveralls hid her swollen nipples. "Are you trying to distract me?"

He smiled. "Is it working?"

Queenie snorted then leaned back against the ship. "Get on with it."

Robin laughed softly. "Okay, I can take a hint. Where was I? Oh yeah, the crash." He looked over at the far wall. "When we crash-landed, it killed the war captain, and I wasn't too much better off. Truthfully, I was dying. We had landed in the middle of a city that had been torched ages ago. I had thought it was still inhabited. I was wrong.

"I stumbled out of the small-craft and into a downpour. The ship was in pieces so I couldn't stay there, so I went looking for shelter. I don't know how far I walked, truth is I don't remember too much of it. Probably a good thing... Anyway, I remember finding the Oberon under a shattered building. I can't tell you how he got there to begin with, but I had to blast my way through to get him out."

"So you salvage-claimed him?"

Robin gave her a haunted look. "Actually, he salvage-claimed me. I was dying when I found my way in. Don't ask me how; I haven't a clue. The ship must have decided to let me in, because you can't get in without the ship activating the doors." He shrugged and looked away. "When I got inside, the whole ship was empty, no seats, no flight panel, no nothing. But the floor was open and there was the pilot's chair, under the floor of the ship. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but then I was near dead and not thinking much at all. All I noticed was that it looked comfortable. So I got in to take a nap." He looked down at his boots. "When I woke up, the door over my head leading to the ship's interior was closed and I was already grafted into the chair. By then, the ship had already hard-wire connected to my brain and begun altering me."

"Holy shit!"

"You could say that. As soon as I had a direct connection, I learned that the ship had taken my practically lifeless body, and begun to rebuild it from the cellular level on out. The Oberon claimed me, and there was nothing I could do to stop the process. When I finally got out of the chair, I was completely altered: skin, hair, eyes and these." He pointed at his antennae. "I don't even look human anymore."

"I think you're plenty human enough for me." She glanced down and promptly blushed. "So, what happened when you got back?"

Robin gave her a tired smile. "Now that is classified."

Queenie took a half-step back. "Oh, I'm sorry..."

He shrugged. "Anyway I'm no longer fit for duty on any ship but the Oberon. My internal tech isn't all that compatible with any ship but him."

"What about your basic implant? You know the info jack everyone has just to do normal stuff?" She turned and lifted her short-cropped hair to show him the circular titanium implant about the size of the pad of her thumb that was grafted into the base of her skull. "Can't you fly with that?"

"Gone."

"Gone?" Queenie turned around to face him. "What do you mean: gone?"

"Gone, as in: not there anymore." Robin turned around and lifted his long silver hair. His neck was smooth and bare of the thumb-sized tech-port that every other citizen of the Empire had. "When the ship rebuilt me, it rejected all the implants I had. Everything; including all the augmentation that made me a navigator class pilot was sitting on the floor when I woke up." He turned back and pointed at his antennae. "I use these to communicate with the ship's sensor array, and organic direct-nerve connections to fly."

"That is so weird." Queenie shook her head. "How do you do stuff? Get information? Access the libraries, videos? You know, basic ordinary normal stuff?"

Robin gave her a lopsided smile. "I manage. The Oberon has made adjustments to allow me some access to some things, but he's not happy about it."

"He's not happy?"

The alarm on Queenie's wrist-chrono suddenly chirped.

She glanced at the time and her mouth fell open. "Oh my God! Get me down, I'm going to be late for school!"

"School?" Robin choked. He hit the controls and lowered the lift. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen." Queenie grinned.

"Thank God, I thought for a moment that I'd been kissing a minor." He shook his head.

"Nope, I'm plenty old enough." Queenie snorted. "I graduate this year. This week in fact." She jumped off the platform ran for her glider. "See you later!"

"I hope so!" he called out.

Queenie threw herself into the saddle and started up the engine while buckling in at top speed, for flight. The engine roared then progressed through the turbo cycles to drop into a low growl that would become a bone-chilling howl once she took to the skies.

She accessed her earcom. "This is Queenie, is the pit clear? I need to bounce my glider."

Queenie's earcom crackled.

"Why haven't you left yet?" Jem's voice hissed with static. "You're going to be late!"

"I'm powering up as fast as I can. Can I get you to drop the gate in oh-five-seven to give me access to the pit?"

"You'll never make it in time, and you have your final assessments today."

Queenie jammed her helmet on and ginned savagely. "Oh yes I will."

A chuckle came across the earcom. "You just did another upgrade on that glider didn't you?"

She grinned. "You could say that..." She'd added a tiny inertial-dampening booster for a static anti-grav to make it lighter, which of course, made it a lot faster. She just hoped that the additional wing adjustments would be enough to keep it steady in a sudden crosswind.

"Dropping gate."

Queenie watched the wall slowly fall, creating a ramp and exposing the pit. The mile wide walled pit maintained a low enough Meissner null-grav field that a person could float in it, perfectly weightless. This was not something anybody wanted to try, because the gigantic superconductors under the floor of the pit were used to propel massive starships into space. No one wanted to be accidentally lifted into space between one blink and the next.
"Remember, don't power up the anti-grav, I don't want to get thrown out of the atmosphere."

Jem snorted. "It's at neutral, exactly zero-g."

"Perfect! Here we go, wish me luck at assessments!"

"I would, but I doubt you'll need it!"

She laughed. "Bye pest!" She hurriedly changed the channel on her earcom to receive traffic signals. She waved at Robin Gray then took the controls. Teeth bared in a grin, she hit the turbos, and drove right off the edge into the miles deep space-dock pit, completely buoyant in the zero-G. She jerked up on the handles until her nose pointed straight up, then released the full power of the electroturbos. The spinning turbines grabbed air, giving the glider sudden, and hard lift, hauling her right out of the space-dock. As soon as she cleared the top of the ring, she activated her atmosphere wings. The glider's raptor wings snapped out just as she slipped out of the Meissner field. The glider leveled out, once again in the grip of gravity, and she soared howling toward the city.

 

Gray watched the glider with its slender and delicious pilot rocket up through the docking ring. "Damn fine flying for an un-enhanced, human..."

"Both of those humans are a security breach."

Gray watched as the gravity-shielding gate lifted back into place, enclosing the berth. "You are being paranoid Colonel. The Empire owns this whole planet. If they don't want anyone to know I'm here, no one will."

Gravity returned to normal under his feet and he relaxed his hold on the lift. The Oberon had warned him that the gravity shield was being lowered, but he hadn't expected the Meissner field effect to reach this far into the berth, not when he knew the anti-grav generator was set at neutral. It wasn't nearly strong enough to move the ship, but he had been surprised to discover that he could have floated, if he'd wanted to.

"I don't care if anyone knows you are here, securing the ambassador is my priority."

Gray turned to stare up at the massive cyborg, standing by his shoulder. He looked perfectly calm, and perfectly human in the Imperial Guard uniform with his grizzled gray hair and meticulously live-grafted skin, even at his towering height. The Empire had taken great pains to maintain the Colonel's human appearance. His hair grew and had to be trimmed regularly, and his live skin would bruise. If you scratched him, he'd bleed.

However, the data being relayed from the Oberon's delicate sensor array let Gray know on no uncertain terms, that the hulking cyborg's alarm system was dangerously agitated. It wouldn't take more than a sudden, unexplained movement for the Colonel to become the death-dealing killing machine his Empire had crafted him into.

Gray frowned. "There is no cause for alarm Colonel. They only saw an interesting craft. They have no idea what I do, or who I carry. They didn't even ask. My sensors indicated that they weren't interested in anything beyond some sightseeing."

"You should not have allowed them to enter the ship's berth."

"What did you want me to do? Shoot them?"

"If necessary."

Gray sighed. There was very little left in the Colonel that was actually human, certainly not enough to understand that half-grown civilians should never be targets. "Colonel, when you satisfy simple curiosity, no one looks closer, and they both had reasonable entry to the docks. One is a dockworker and the other is the dock-master's daughter. As you have repeatedly reminded me, we do not want to bring attention to this mission. Killing dock workers would have drawn a lot of unnecessary attention, possibly an inquiry from the Governor-General's office."

"I see." The colonel's alarm system cycled down a notch. "Then you used the correct procedure to prevent an incident."

Gray looked over at his ship. "The ambassador is perfectly safe. My hull cannot be breached." He smiled tightly. "Not even by a pair of un-augmented half-grown kids."

The cyborg focused on the pilot. "What were you doing with the female so long?"

Gray felt his temper surge. "Nothing that you should be concerned with. I didn't spill any state secrets."

The cyborg suddenly smiled. It was not a pretty sight. "You may be harder to kill than I, but your libido may be the death of you yet." He turned and walked toward the Oberon.

Gray stared at the retreating Colonel for a few moments, then lifted his fist and gave the cyborg's back a one-fingered salute.

 

Chapter One: Flight Dreams

Chapter Two: Assessments

Chapter Three: Lethal Sentiments

Chapter Four: From Death's Embrace

Flight of the Titania

Coming Soon!