Chapter 6

Sector 98-A, Neutral Space
The Milky Way Galaxy
2398

The silence was nearly as agonizing as shouting would have been. Sebastian looked at Tiff, his brow furrowed so intensely that it would have worked as a rain gutter. Finally, he spoke: “ ... and?”

“And?” Tiff gabbled at him. “I ... just said I might like girls! This is big! This is huge! I’m ... I...” She paused, then frowned. “Are you laughing?”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t,” Sebastian said, his chuckles choked back with a clear effort of will. He closed his mouth and brushed his fingers through his hair. “It’s just, well, you speak English that’s so close to modern English – albeit with some oddities.”

“I don’t not speak no odditisms with my Americanese!” Tiff said, half angry, half amused.

Sebastian did chuckle now, openly, his fangs glinting. “It’s just hard to remember, sometimes, that you come from the cisnormative Dark Ages.” Sebastian leaned back in his chair. “Until I met you, I dated more men than I dated women. I may have been a...” He coughed. “A virgin, but that didn’t mean I didn’t date. And I usually dated men. Most of the men on this ship have dated men and most of the women on this ship have dated women. Even if they decide it’s not their ... ah ... preference later, there’s no stigma in experimentation. Or in inclination.’

Tiff gaped at him. “Bruce dated a guy?” she asked.

“Bruce is less of a dating gentleman and more of a...” Sebastian waved his hand, as if he was groping for a term. “More of a ... uh ... after action report athleticism sort.” He coughed. “If you know what I mean.”

“Adrenaline junkie, got it,” Tiff said. Then she put her hands over her face and dropped down onto the balls of her feet, her knees pressing to her chest. “The future is weird!” She wheezed out. It wasn’t quite that she was upset at the idea of Sebastian kissing boys. Or dating boys. Tiff wasn’t a bigot. At least, she didn’t think she was a bigot. But it was one thing to watch a TV show and to see a guy on the screen then, bam, he was gay. Like in that episode of the Simpsons where Homer met the guy who worked at the kitsch store. She expected ... like...

She didn’t know what she had expected. But she was feeling a spider crawling feeling all over her skin and she was worried that it had more to do with her than with the future. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to get her heart to stop racing and her stomach to stop flip flopping. Sebastian stepped over, kneeling down beside her. His hand slid along her back and he spoke, softly. “Are you okay, Tiffany?”

“I don’t know!” Tiff slid her hands away from her face. “W-What if I’m a bigot? But ... I’m from California.”

Sebastian opened his mouth, closed it, looked as if he was reconsidering the first thing that he was going to say. Instead, quietly, he said: “Listen, Tiffany. It has been settled science for centuries that human beings, all human beings, sort the other into boxes. We’re just not very good at dealing with specifics when there are trillions of specifics. Instead, we lump them into general terms. That’s why, across the galaxy, you will find animals we call wolf, cat, slug, tree.” He shrugged one shoulder. “It doesn’t matter if they’re on a different planet with a completely divergent origin. We still sort them into boxes. Humans do that to themselves too.” He caressed her hair, his fingers silk smooth and slightly cool. It was oddly comforting, considering how many times similar fingers had been locked around her throat. Tiff leaned into him ever so slightly and let the Ensnarement hold her tightly.

“We’re all bigots in some way. The trick is to recognize it in yourself, then decide to consciously reject it. It’s not evolution and it’s not magic. It’s a daily, continual effort. And we still fail. Every damn day.” He kissed the top of her head.

Tiff blushed and nodded. “R-Right.” She scowled. “You’re only four years older than me-”

“I thought,” Sebastian started to speak over her.

“-how are you so frigging smart?” She headbutted his shoulder, causing his foot to slip out from under him and dump him onto his back. Sebastian scowled up from the floor at her.

“I thought,” he said again, all aggrieved and cattish. Tiff bit her back her smile. “That you were declaring yourself to be four hundred and eighteen years old, not eighteen. Something about getting into bars?”

“Right!” Tiff pumped her fist. “I’m, like, ninth generation compared to you.”

“That’s not how generations work!” Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re the Hunter, I can understand why the average ... see ... a vampire’s generation is based off how far they are removed from Lilith, the first vampire. If I was sired by Lilith yesterday, I’d be 2nd generation, and if someone was sired by by...” He trailed off, then scowled. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“A little,” Tiff said, grinning. “Christian made me go through all those frigging generation charts and power levels until I was bored to tears.” She paused. “How is that shit handled now? Like, back in the day, the Cam had the older generations just ran the show.”

“It’s democratic now,” Sebastian said, then shook his head, sitting up. “Antediluvian – third generation that is-”

“I know what an Annydellvo is...” Tiff muttered, leaning down to bump her head against Sebastian’s chest, pressing him back down onto the deck. She rubbed her cheek against his chest, feeling some of her tension resolve. Not only was he not mad that she had flirted with a sexy shark lady, he’d also ... well ... he’d put it all very reasonably. It made her feel like she’d been wrung out, all the tension bled away in a big old anticlimax. And considering how some of her previous frank, fraught discussions with boyfriends had gone, this was a fucking relief.

“Now...” Sebastian said. “Tiffany, if you’d be so kind, as to ... get off my chest.”

“Nope.” Tiff sprawled against him more.

Sebastian closed his eyes. “I have work.”

“Nope.”

Sebastian’s voice became a cool, growly sound that shivered into her ear, like a worm. “Winters. Up. Now.”

Tiffany felt her muscles jump and clench instinctively, her palms pushing herself up and off his back. Her eyes felt unfocused, but she could still clearly – but she was looking from inside her head, rather than out of her eyes. It was like there was Tiffany, the body, and Tiffany, the mind. And Tiffany the mind floated in her body, which acted without thinking. She remained in that blissful, half aware state, then blinked, feeling her body and her mind merging together again with a shivery tingle. It was like her whole body came to life at the same instant, leaving her gasping.

“W-Whoa!” She said as Sebastian sat up, his face filled with horror.

“Oh Gaia,” he said, reaching out, taking her hand. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t thinking, I-”

“Did you just ... use Dominate on me?” Tiff asked, her eyes wide as saucers as she looked into his red, red eyes. She knew that Ensnarement, the act of drinking a vampire’s blood, weakened the defenses between a normal mortal and a vampire’s mental mojos. The big whammies, Dominate, Presence, and Dementation normally required locking eyes on a vampire’s peepers, but with Ensnarement, they could do it with their voice. A crooked finger. Some books that Christian had forced her to read had even claimed that a vampire’s smell could do it.

Sebastian was still babbling. “It just ... it’s ... I understand, if you wish to report me for some kind of disciplinary action – we can organize a tribunal. I...” He put his hands over his face, in almost the same gesture she had used while freaking out over being a homophobe. Tiff couldn’t help it.

“Dude, it was hot,” she said. It was the first word to describe it that had popped out of her mouth – and like most things Tiff said, she had to pause, rewind, think back, and reflect on what she meant. But ... there was a kind of delicious, exciting edge to it. She had never been Dominated before. In fact, it was one of her favorite gambits, to trick a vampire into locking eyes with her, to have them burn some of their precious vitae while growing something like ‘and now, Tiffany Winters, you shall kneel before me’ and then yawning in their face, headbutting them, and staking them. Her Hunter’s spirit kept her safe, so why not fuck with them?

But in that instant of floating disconnection, she had felt ... at peace. Deeply centered and carefree. After years of the world depending on her ... she hadn’t needed to decide or worry about anything.

Sebastian, who had been mid self crucifixion, gaped at her. “It ... I beg ... your...”

“It was hot,” Tiff said, blushing and shrugging her shoulders slightly. “Turned me on, you know?” She bit her lip. “Y-You know, I was kinda joking at first, but, uh ... I’m actually pretty wetero right now, hah, wow.” She blushed, furiously. She drew her knees up against her chest, settling back on the ground. Once again, she had to be thankful for the intelligent material that the ship was made of. It was comfy to sit on, unlike the metal it looked like.

Sebastian blinked a few more times.

The long, awkward conversation that was sure to follow was interrupted by Kfap breaking into the conversation. “Sebastian, Tiffany, the captain wishes to see both of you,” she said, cheerfully. “Oh, and Tiffany, our prisoner wants to speak to you once you’re done.”

Tiff, who had scrambled to her feet, saluted, turned to the door, stopped, turned back, and looked at the ceiling. “What?” She looked back at Sebastian. “The prisoner wants to talkero to me? Miss God Empress? The glowy glow goop? The shapeshifter?” She frowned. “Why for?”

“She did not say,” Kfap said. “However, she is not in solitary confinement or anything. You’re free to visit her, so long as security precautions are taken.”

Sebastian nodded. “Do you want me there with you?” he asked, his voice sounding brittle – and Tiff remembered how disgusted he had felt using Domination on the shapeshifter. She blushed, squeezing his hand.

“You don’t have too. But if you want to, you can,” she said, nodding. “A-Also, I know that you’re ... you don’t like Dominating people. You never ever have to Dominate me again. I’m just ... I wanted you to just know, it was hotsfuck.” She leaned up onto her toes and kissed his cheek, gently. Sebastian, the big stork of a vampire nerd virgin, coughed.

“W-Well...” He stammered. “I must confess...” He started for the door, which opened with a whirr and a hiss. “There is a part of me that ... does enjoy the sense of power and, ah, virility, that using Domination creates.”

“Ohh ho ho ho ho!” Tiffany put her hands on her belly. “Innnnnterbreasting.”

“I regret my honesty already,” Sebastian muttered.

“It’s a braaaaain! In a jaaaaaaaaaar!” Tiff cooed melodramatically, her nose mashed up against the window that looked in on the operation theater. Two technicians – both of them from engineering according to the pips on their chest – and Dr. Galadrial were working together to disassemble the housing of Facilitator. They had left most of his ‘body’ back on the planet, but what they had brought with them was still a complex set of machinery: The jar, the brain, the life support gubbins, the wires and the machines and the hissing, clicking circuitry that connected everything together.

Tobias, who was grinning wryly as he leaned against the wall next to the window, nodded. “That’s right, Tiff. But it’s also a known brain in a jar. We had Kfap run through the genetic registry and this is the brain of one Monkar Solop, a Polyp from a Ngork world.” He looked right at Tiffany. “The Ngork, after our first contact war, have an embassy. They share missing citizen and resident information with us, because they know that we have a vested interest in dealing with pirates.”

Tiff nodded. “Makes sense.” She frowned. “So, Monkar went missing?”

“Yup. While traveling between his homeworld and a Ngork spaceyard within a few dozen light years of the-”

“Neutral Zone!” Tiff slapped her palms against the glass, pushing herself back. “And he got snatched by the Capellans and turned into a brain in a jar in a floaty robot! Fuckersuckersons!” She shook her head. “Why? Why do it? Why brainnap people? AIs exist, like Miss Shipsoul.”

“There’s two big weaknesses to AIs,” Tobias said, grinning. “At least, weaknesses as seen by the imperial powers, before you jump down my throat, Kfap.”

“I wasn’t about too...” Kfap said, sounding sullen, like she had been denied a chance to jump down someone’s throat.

“Firstly,” Tobias said, lifting a finger. “If an artificial intelligence gets too smart, too intelligent, too potent, then the Harrowers kidnap it.”

Tiff frowned, slightly. Inside the operating ward, the brain was being carefully eased out of the jar and into a different, more complex jar. Readouts bleeped and whirred softly, and Dr. Galadrial looked deeply focused. She crossed her arms over her chest, squeezing tightly. “Why?”

“No one knows,” Tobias said. “But the theory is the Harrowers ... well, they live beyond the edge of the galaxy. Anyone that moves beyond the Rim gets zapped. Our long range observation has detected massive structures between our galaxy and Andromeda. We believe those are the Harrowers. One theory is that those structures are vast computers, taking advantage of the lack of background radiation and the lower ambient temperature to do calculations that would be impossible closer to a messy galaxy.”

“Wiggy,” Tiff whispered. “And so, they kidnap AIs that get to ... much like them.” She frowned. “Maybe they see it like how you guys see planets that aren’t run by commies.”

“Anarchists,” Sebastian, who had been watching the operation beside her, swooped in.

“Ancommies,” Tiff said, cheerfully.

“Less inaccurate,” Tobias said, grinning over Tiff’s head at Sebastian. “The second issue, by the way? An AI that gets too smart gets unruly.”

“It’s true, we do!” Kfap said, cheerfully.

“Skynet,” Tiff whispered. “It decided our fates in a millisecond.”

“Well, that’s just hurtful.” Kfap said, her voice pouting.

Dr. Galadrial finished sealing up the jar. He slid it into the wall replicator, then closed it. The faint whirring sound of a replicator working filled the air as the doc and his technicians started to strip out of their white suits and their helmets and gloves. Tiff whispered. “What are they doing?” she asked.

“Replicating Mr. Solop a new body,” Tobias said.

“Ptbbttththth!” Tiff spluttered.

“What?” Sebastian’s brow furrowed.

“You can just ... replicate a body?” She asked, slapping her palms and face against the glass, mashing her eyes against the cool surface, trying to goggle at the replicator. Tobias and Sebastian both exchanged another glance.

“It’d honestly be weirder if we couldn’t replicate a new body,” Sebastian said. “A replicator is able to produce everything from a firearm to a spacecraft given sufficient time and lunar energies. A-And ... the entirety of replicator technology is based off lycanthropic physics. A lycanthrope is able to conjure fantastically complex biological structures out of subspace at will. We’re not even building a superior body – this is just a standard Polyp body, not a super-strong one. A garou can rip a tank in half.”

Tiff shook her head. “It’s just ... fucking wild, okay?” She grinned. “We can rebuild him. We have the technology.” She said, gruff and low.

More whirring.

“How long is this going to take?” Tiff asked after a minute.

“Six hours,” Tobias said, casually.

“Six hours?”

“First, you’re saying it cannot be done,” Sebastian said, frowning. “Now you’re complaining that it’s going to take too long?”

“That’s me, Master,” Tiff said, which caused Tobias to arch his eyebrow at Sebastian, who coughed and looked as flustered as anything. Tiff pushed herself away from the window.

“So,” she said. “I think I’m going to check on the prisoner, if this is going to take six hours. She wanted to talk to me. Though, can she be a she if she’s a shapeshifter?” She cocked her head. “I mean, I guess so. But wait, did we ask if she was a she, or are we just calling her a she because we met her in my form? Like, it’d be pretty silly to just call her the female shapeshifter just because she usually looks like a girl, when she’s a shapeshifter and all.”

“That’s a cogent point, Winters,” Sebastian said. “Delivered incoherently, but cogent. But don’t go just yet. The body may take a while to grow, but Dr. Galadrial is setting up a vocal interface, so we can talk to him earlier.”

“Oooh! That makes sense, Master,” Tiff said. Then she closed her eyes. “Sebastian.”

Tobias bit his lip. “Now, I’m your quasicaptain, meaning I’m only pseudoinvolved, but...” He paused. “You two want to talk about this? I mean, D/s is fine, so long as you keep your heads in the game.”

Sebastian looked as if he wanted someone, anyone, to run up and stake him. “It’s fine, Tobias.”

“Okay,” Tobias said, nodding. “But remember, we’re in hostile waters out here.”

“Space. The most hostileist of all waters,” Tiff whispered, trying to sound like a movie announcer. Then, in her normal voice, she said: “Is it all right if I call Sebastian master, though?” She blushed. “Not that I like like him or anything, but ... it’s nice.”

Tobias covered his face with his hand, but she could tell he was smiling. “You don’t need my permission.”

Sebastian, his mortification levels set to maximum, said: “Sir, I believe that Dr. Galadrial has set up the interface.”

Tiff focused and saw that Dr. Galadrial was waving them in.

As they stepped into the medical bay, Dr. Galadrial spoke up first: “All right, Mr. Solop, the Captain is here.”

“I wish to first say,” Facilitator – no, Monkar Solop – spoke from the wall, his voice sounding as if he was standing right before them. “Thank you very much for everything you’ve provided me.” Then, plaintively. “Are you quite sure it’s free?”

“Yes, it is free,” Tobias said, cheerfully. “We in the Federation don’t see much use for money in situations like this. We’re just glad to help you out.”

“ ... right.” Monkar coughed. “I ... I suppose you want to hear the details of my story and what was going on with the Capellans?”

“Yeah!” Tiff said – causing Tobias to shoot her a playful look. She realized he had been about to speak and felt like jamming her own mouth down her face. That didn’t even make sense. But she was already on the donkey, time to ride it all the way to the pony cannon. “Also, like, uh, what’s the deal with the Capellans? Have you seen any of them?”

“Yes...” Monkar said. “But I can’t remember what they look like. It’s all just a blur. They came on my ship like a whirlpool in a clear ocean. Before I knew it, the ship was taken and I was knocked unconscious. Their soldiers, I do remember: They were all robotic killing machines. Spiders. They looked like spiders.” He shuddered convulsively. “But I do know that my brain was purchased and given over to the leader of the Capellans – the CEO himself.”

Tiff whistled. “Bill Gates in space with murder spiders.”

“I don’t recall his name, he was only referred to as the CEO,” Monkar said, sounding distressed. “In fact, it’s rather worrying how little I remember. It’s all in foggy patches. Just ... then I was on a world. It was a desert, howling, a wasteland. There wasn’t an ocean to be seen in a thousand thousand kilometers. But then, I was instructed that I had been left at a dropoff point and told to signal passing ships for transport to markets. Then, it was all about sales and spying.”

“Who did you spy on?” Tobias asked.

“Primarily? The Omni-Imperium,” Monkar said. “I was told to encourage them to purchase neutrino communications, and to let slip some clues. I wasn’t quite sure to what. It simply had to involve some race I’d never heard of called the ... We? Am I translating that right?”

Tiff frowned. “Wait. The C-Dogs told the Emps about using nutribloops to turn the We into attack dogs?” She frowned harder. “That doesn’t sound like greedy capitalists. Shouldn’t they be trying to, like, knock down your door to sell you toothpaste or something?”

“Capitalists once invaded India for the tea,” Sebastian said, his voice dry.

Tiff frowned harder. “Where’s this planet?”

Monkar sighed. “It should be in my long term memory core, assuming you can access it without it being wiped.”

“On it!” Kfap said, cheerfully. “Ooh, this is some good programming. I believe an intelligence almost on par with mine did it.” She paused. “That’s curious. The Capellans, according to the example of Mr. Solop, don’t have AIs of my quality. Or else, they’d use them instead of kidnapped brains in jars, eh?”

“That is weird...” Tiff frowned. “Unless, like, the Capellans are led by an evil AI, and it likes to make squishbrains serve it, in some twisted, evil plot for twisted evil?”

“Pff!” Kfap said. “If I’m having flesh-puppets serving me, I’m letting them keep their knees, so they can bow before my greatness.” She started to hum as she worked.

“She’s joking r-” Tiff started.

“She’s joking,” Tobias said.

Tiff came to the brig and found that Bryce was there, on duty, on guard, looking bored as hell. Sebastian had begged off going to the cell – not just because he was needed to help Kfap poke away at the coordinates on Monkar’s container. Tiff smiled at Bryce. “Hey, Bryce,” she said, her voice cheerful. “I’m here to chit chat with El Globio Von Golden Gas.”

Bryce chuckled. “What you do to Romance languages is a crime, Tiffany.” He grinned. “Fortunately, I’m not a cop.”

“You’re just standing guard on a prisoner, in uniform,” Tiff said, sticking her tongue out at him. Bryce chuckled and coughed, rubbing at his neck.

“You raise a good point...” He muttered, shaking his head.

The PA cracked. “Good afternoon, crew,” Kfap said, her voice cheerful. “We’re setting course for a new planet – it is a known drop site for the Capellans. At maximum warp factor, we shall arrive in four days.”

Tiff whistled. “Is it just me or is that fast?”

Bryce nodded, frowning. “It is...” He said. “Max warp factor is pretty fast, but this must be only a few dozen years away...” He shook his head. “Then again, if Facilitator was picked up by a ship going to the trade planet, then it’d make sense he’d be dropped off nearby, right?”

“True!” Tiff said. “So...” She sighed. “I don’t really want to talk to the shifter...”

“Then why are you here?” Bryce asked, his ears perking up. “Like, Tiff, just because she asks doesn’t mean you have to do anything.”

Tiff bit her lip, then shrugged. “I guess ... I mean, I was told about the Omni-Imperium. They, like, started out as slaves of the Nglock or whatever they’re called. And they kicked themselves free with their cool shapeshifting mojo. But now they’re, like, enslaving other people ... it’s, like, a really shitty thing to do, isn’t it?” She shook her head.

“Back in the 21st century, there were people who got out from under a boot and went right back to putting the boot on someone else,” Bryce said. “It’s weird. I mean, I get it, being the master in a relationship is hot. But that’s a relationship, not a socioeconomic status.”

“Heh ha ha ha,” Tiff said, blushing.

“Speaking of masters,” Bryce said, grinning.

“Whaaaaaat?” Tiff stammered. Bryce opened his mouth to tease and Tiff interrupted him: “Okay, fine, I’ll give it up. Earlier today, Sebastian used Domination on me. Like ... the vampire mind mojo. It was crazy hot.” She shivered. “Part of me wants him to do it to me. But, like, more so. Like ... order me to do stuff.” She narrowed her eyes. “Kinky stuff.”

Bryce nodded. “Valid.”

“But, like, Sebastian is fucked in the head about domination, you know?” Tiff asked, tapping at the door, inputting the access code she had been given during her induction to the crew of the DeeDee. “Like, I think he’s thinking about all the times throughout history that chompzones really fucked people up with their mindboops.”

“Indeed,” Bryce said, his voice solemn. Tiff punched his shoulder and walked into the brig.

The shapeshifter had assumed her own form and was seated across from the glass, looking out, like the creepy cannibal from the creepy cannibal solves crimes move. Hannibal! Hannibal the Cannibal, that was how Tiff remembered it. She frowned and sat down across from the glass, then leaned forward. “Do you still hear it, Clarence? The silence of the lambs?”

The Shifter-Tiff blinked slowly. “What the fuck?” she asked.

Tiff grinned. “Hah! Real Tiff would have gotten that reference. You, madame, are an imposter.”

Shifter-Tiff shook her head slowly. “Tiffany Winters, are you ... do you have ... a mental disability?”

Tiff scowled. “I ... maybe. I think my parents thought about getting me tested for something, but the doctors said girls didn’t get ADHD. Anyway.” She shook her head, then planted her elbows on the little table that thrust from the window into the brig. She looked right into Shifter-Tiff’s eyes. Dang, Tiff thought. I actually am pretty cute. Aloud, she said: “What did you want to talk about, Princess?”

“Empress, actually,” Shifter-Tiff said, grinning with a predatory little glint that made Tiff’s reflections on how cute she was feel weird and incesty. She shook her head to try and dispel the thoughts, even as Shifter-Tiff crooned. “I’ve been reading a great deal about your interesting little species. Your artificial intelligence has been remarkably forthcoming. In the Imperium, most of this would be a state secret.”

Tiff narrowed her eyes. “Trying to find a weakness?”

“Well,” Shifter-Tiff shrugged one shoulder. “Initially. But now, I’m more interested in the sheer number of godlike beings your race has interacted with, before and after you took to space travel. Lets see, you have Gaia, the Triad, the Overlords of Hell – delightful name that – Lillith and Cain, the Exarchs, the Winter Court, the Summer Court ... honestly, how so called baselines even manage to exist on that planet without tripping over the other races is a bafflement to me.” She smiled, then leaned forward. “And then I read about the Hunter.”

Tiff nodded.

“You remind me of the Remans,” she said, quietly. “A warrior-clone race that our best genesculptors created. But even the finest of them pale next to your accomplishments. And you’re considered obsolete.”

Tiff blushed, slightly. This conversation felt like it was nosing up against something she didn’t want to think about. “What do you mean, Princess?”

“I mean,” Shifter-Tiff said. “They packed you into a box, put you on ice, and forgot about you for centuries, and they didn’t even notice.” She grinned, slightly. “That’s what we do to old warships that are too expensive to scrap. We drag them into orbit around gas giants and let scavengers and gravity have their way with them.”

“Shut up,” Tiff said, her voice soft.

“And they replaced you.” She grinned. “The Eugenics War was very interesting, you know? But you know what was most interesting?”

Tiff stood up, turning to go. “Enough of this bullshit.”

“Stop.”

Tiff stopped. This didn’t feel like when Sebastian had spoken to her – but it had been his voice, growling out the command. Her nerves, her muscles, were screaming at her. She strained and managed to begin to lift her hand, sweat beading on her face.

“Turn around,” Sebastian growled – and she turned.

Shifter-Tiff had become Sebastian. His lips were twisted into a wicked grin and he looked right into Tiff’s eyes. Tiff’s arm began to lift.

“Open. The door.” Shifter-Sebastian purred.

Tiff strained.

The door opened – not the door to the brig, but the door to the corridor. Bryce sprang in, his hand raised, his laser glove at the ready. “Kfap just- who!” He jerked his eyes away before looking into the Shifter’s eyes. But the distraction ... ironically ... had been exactly what Tiff hadn’t needed. IN the time it took her to register Bryce’s arrive, her iron focus had slipped.

Her arm shot out and tapped the access code to the door.

The door...

Refused to budge.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t change my access codes the instant you tried your mind rape-bullshit?” Kfap snarled, her voice crackling across the speakers. Shifter-Sebastian stepped backwards, and the control sagged out of Tiff’s grasp and she sagged to one knee, gasping heavily. Her whole body quaked – and she felt a repellent, sickening wash of longing. For a few seconds, she had felt the same urge to submit, the same pleasure that she had in Sebastian’s presence ... but it had been in the Shifter. Not to him. She wanted to throw up. Bryce knelt beside her, while Kfap began to bark out orders to the Shifter.

“Assume a human form immediately. Hands against the walls. Now. Close your eyes.”

Bryce squeezed Tiff’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” He whispered.

Tiff stood, screamed, and ran right at the window. Her palm slapped against it and her free hand drew back, clenched into a fist, and she punched the glass as hard as she could. It wasn’t glass. It was some kind of fancy space-aged material, tougher than diamonds.