Held by Luna Voss

10

Barion

Melyta’s best friend Jenyta finishes her pilot training program with the Rangasta Corporation in a little over a week. My mate and I fly out to meet her, both to congratulate her on her completed year of training, and also to make our proposal.

Things with Melyta feel weird. I guess on some level, it’s been that way ever since we left Tarsheb 8 and began our new life. But there’s a distance between us now that I’ve never felt before, and it hurts me.

I had thought things were fixed after her heat. Or maybe I just hoped. For a moment, at least, things felt right. We were on the same page, and we had a direction. We still have that direction.

I’m not sure we’re still on the same page.

These days, it’s like I don’t know how to handle her. In the beginning, it was so easy. She was still learning the rules, and I didn’t think twice about putting her over my knee whenever it was necessary to correct her. Now I’m not so sure. She’s been getting herself in trouble lately for reasons that haven’t always made sense to me. Like that thing when Korva was over. I’m still not sure if I handled that correctly. My first instinct was to treat it sternly, to put her over my knee and spank her until I obtained her complete submission, the way I have so many times in the past.

But lately, I just haven’t had that in me.

More than anything, I think I’m tired. Not in terms of sleep. In terms of life. A year ago, I was on the verge of taking over the Dultaz Family. Life was going to be so easy, so luxurious. I was going to rule Dalax City with Melyta as my other half. Then I fucked up and ruined everything. And now we’re here, trying to dig ourselves out of this mess.

Every individual piece of that is mentally draining. Together, it’s crushing. Attending to Melyta’s discipline, especially when she seems to require it so frequently, is just one more thing on a plate that’s already too full.

So even though I notice her acting out as we fly to meet Jenyta, I don’t spank her over my knee the way I know I probably should. She gets looks first, then a warning, then I start to count to three. The one time she actually lets me finish counting, I plug her ass and put her in the corner without a spanking, just like I did the last time. It doesn’t seem to be helping much, but at least I’m doing something.

Most happily married Vostra guys I’ve known would say what I’m doing isn’t enough. That she needs me to put her in her place, and that I’m slacking off as her mate by neglecting to do so. Maybe they’re right. In any case, I’m tired.

* * *

Melyta

Barion doesn’t spank me once during the flight to meet Jenyta, even though I more than earn it on several occasions. Sure, he’s good at sounding stern, but when it comes time to actually put his foot down, all I get is a warning, or once, corner time.

It’s not enough. I know he loves me, but it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like he doesn’t care.

This whole thing, the mining job, was supposed to bring us closer together. To give us back our fire.

I’m still waiting for that to happen.

“We’re here,” I tell him, shaking him awake as our ship lands on Fugarsh 44B, the planet where we’re meeting my friend.

He nods, blinking, and we get off the ship.

“Mel!”

It’s Jenyta, waiting right at the front of the terminal. She runs up and throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly.

“It’s so good to see you again,” I tell her, grinning. “So you’re officially a pilot now?”

“Sure am!” she replies, positively beaming with pride. She taps the little badge on her chest that says Rangasta Space Pilot.

“Congratulations, Jenyta,” says Barion, strolling up behind us. “I’m sure you had to work your ass off the last year.”

Jenyta gives an exaggerated sigh. “You don’t know the half of it. The program may only be a year, but they keep you busy.”

“Where are you staying?” I ask her as we collect our bags and leave the spaceport.

“I have a room in the city, but I have to check out tomorrow after graduation. You’re, uh. You guys are going to give me a ride back to Gerbbbexai IX, right?”

“I thought you were flying us back,” says Barion, totally deadpan.

Jenyta’s eyes go wide. “What? I have a license, but it’s not like I have a ship. Those things cost a—” And then she realizes he’s joking and gives him a playful push, shaking her head at me in amusement. “You really put up with this guy, Mel?”

I grin, happy as always to see them getting along. “Every damn day.”

We go back to Jenyta’s hotel room to grab her stuff. As we enter, Barion gives me a long look, eyebrows raised. I can tell that he’s asking me nonverbally whether or not this should be the moment we make our proposal to her. I shrug in response. Now is as good as any other time.

I swallow, trying to get over my misgivings. I know we’re offering my friend an opportunity that many would kill for. It’s just that after everything the Dultaz Family put her through, I don’t want her to feel any pressure to be a part of this world.

Unfortunately, our plan doesn’t work without her.

“Hey, Jen,” I say, plucking up my resolution as she packs her suitcase, “Barion and I have a proposal we’d like to make you.”

She looks up. “Oh? What kind of proposal?”

“It’s an opportunity to make a lot of money,” says Barion bluntly.

Jenyta shrugs. “I’m listening. But it’s going to have to beat the salary I would make as a Rangasta pilot.”

“It does,” he confirms. “By a factor of like a thousand.”

That statement sounds so ridiculous that Jenyta barely reacts to it. “Yeah, okay. Sign me up.”

“This is serious,” I tell her. “But it means working for the Vostra.”

She turns to me, and a moment later I see on her face that she’s really starting to process it. “You’re not joking? You want me to… do what, exactly?”

“Fly,” says Barion. “Just like you would for the Rangasta Corporation.”

She raises her eyebrows. “So why does it pay a thousand times more?”

“Because unlike the Rangasta Corporation, this job doesn’t pay taxes,” Barion growls. “And there’s another piece of it to. A piece that might be dangerous.”

“And we want you to know, there’s no pressure,” I break in. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t expect you to.”

She snorts. “Okay, I’m gonna need some details.”

Barion explains to her the bold points of our plan. Mining the Ditrykium. Transporting workers to and from the mine. She listens with a fascinated look on her face.

“But where are you going to get the coordinates for a Ditrykium-rich planet?” she asks, looking confused. “That’s the part of this I don’t get.”

Barion raises his eyebrows. “Well, that’s where you come in.”

She stares back at him, then gives the longest, loudest sigh I’ve ever heard. “You want me to steal the coordinates from the Rangasta database.”

He nods. “And then delete them when you’re done.”

Jenyta is silent for a very, very long moment. “I suppose you would need me to get info on some Rangasta mining equipment, too. So you could steal it and use it to extract the ditrykium.”

Barion beams at her. “Now we’re fucking talking! Does that mean you’re in?”

She shakes her head. “Not quite. More details. After I steal the coordinates, and whatever info you need for the mining equipment. What next?”

“Workers,” Barion grunts. “We need someone we trust to fly the transport ship so our mine actually has people to run it.”

“And you don’t want to tell the workers the coordinates of the planet,” Jenyta finishes for him, nodding. “That makes sense. How often would I be flying?”

“Remains to be determined. Probably a lot at first, and then less so as we get the operation up and running.”

“Exactly how much would I be getting? Of the total take, I mean.”

Barion scratches his chin. “I was thinking five percent.”

Jenyta’s eyes widen slightly. A five percent stake in even a moderately successful Ditrykium mine would be enough for her grandchildren to retire on.

“Ten percent,” she says finally.

“Ten percent?” Barion repeats, looking slightly aghast. “Of everything?”

She nods. “That’s what I cost. Ten percent. Take it or leave it. If it makes you feel any better, I’m a very good pilot.”

Barion shakes his head, but I know him well enough to see that he’s amused, rather than upset. Finally, he extends his hand to her.

“Ten percent,” he agrees.

They shake. Then Jenyta turns to me, a broad grin spreading across her face. “So, Mel. I guess we’re business partners now.”