DESSERT BEFORE DINNER

Lucianna paced the bridge, unable to keep herself busy. Faith had tried to distract her by talking about her new arms and data she had gathered from watching their tussle with Rivra, but Lucianna refused to sit through any of it. A horrible feeling had rooted itself in her chest, and she didn't know if it was her general dislike of Milo going out without her, or something to do with the strange bond they now shared. She exhaled through her nose.

Rivra remained by her side, though she opted to perform some push-ups in order to keep herself entertained. On Lucianna's seven hundred and eighty-eighth cycle around the bridge, Rivra cleared her throat.

"You know they'd radio in if something went wrong."

"They might. Or something could've gone horribly wrong and they can't! Oh, I should've gone with him!"

"Some of those shop keepers know us by name. With such massive bounties on our heads, I think Faith made the right call."

Lucianna wheeled on Rivra, her eyes wide.

"But what if something happens to Milo? He's not a fighter! Compared to us, he's a sitting target! Aren't you worried at all?"

Rivra rolled into a sitting lotus position and inhaled deeply. Watching her friend breathe calmly somehow eased Lucianna a bit.

"I am worried, Luci. But there's going to be times we can't help Milo. The universe is dangerous. I'd rather be by his side, too, but we can't baby him. Besides, hasn't this crew always been about being independent?"

"Yeah, and what does that have to do with anything?"

"How can you expect Milo to be independent if you smother him?"

She rolled her eyes and groaned. "Whatever!"

She plopped down into her captain's chair, slumping down so low she was more or less lying in the chair.

"It's just…I forced him into this. I don't want him to get hurt."

Faith's face appeared on the biggest monitor in the room, and she cleared her throat.

"Captain, I have an incoming transmission from Tereine."

"Patch them through."

"Oi, Captain! It's bad!"

Rivra turned her head toward the monitor, and Lucianna straightened, her features hardening. Her eyes simmered with a purple glow.

"What happened?"

***

Krol flipped through the Scrapette binder. He vividly remembered when he got his first copy of each card. While some prude customers would think his collection was perverted, he would argue that some civilizations possessed nude statues of exquisitely proportioned men and women alike. Yet preserving the beauty of women in card form was being perverted? He shook his head.

"There were few who understood."

He retrieved the letter and Scrapette card from his apron.

"Rivra…"

The anger boiled inside him as naturally as some creatures breathed. Having once been a race solely comprising war-mongering barbarians, some Scrapsters often found it difficult to shake their old ways. Especially when they faced memories that, even many years later, felt as fresh as a bleeding wound.

"That dumbass kid, taking my place. I should've let them put the bullets in my head. At least maybe he wouldn't have to suffer…"

The chime of the shop door made him jump. How had he not heard the customer approaching? Despite being a mechanic and blacksmith by trade, all Scrapsters possessed enhanced senses that put them a cut above most races. Krol's senses had always been a hair better than everyone else, meaning there were few who could sneak up on him. Krol snapped the binder shut.

(The only one who could truly catch me by surprise was—)

He rose from his bedroll and headed toward the center of the shop.

"Hello? Who is it?"

"Krol? Is that you?"

He froze. That voice…how long had it been? Despite the years, the husky, melodious voice still made his face tingle and his heart skip a beat or two. A lump formed in his throat as he laid his eyes on the powerful-looking Scrapster woman standing before him.

"Rivra?"

Her arms wrapped around him so quickly he thought he'd tumble over, but somehow he caught her. The strength of her bear hug squeezed the breath from his lungs, and he gasped as she shook him like a toy doll.

"Krol! By Cizaroth! I thought Father would kill you!"

"Rivra!"

He returned her hug, and after a few moments in each other's arms, they finally released each other. Krol's brow knitted together as he took in the sight of her face again.

"What…what happened to your eyes?"

"They were stolen."

"So…the rumors are true, then?"

"Rumors?"

"There have been whispers that the infamous Herald Crew lost their powers, so scum from all corners of the universe has been hunting you. But you definitely haven't lost your strength!"

Rivra chuckled, planting a hand on her hip. "Physically, I'm still the strongest in the universe. But…without my eyes…I'm afraid there are people who would best me."

"Enough about that! What're you even doing here? There's no way you came here looking."

"You're right. But I am so happy to see you. I hope…I hope Father hasn't been too harsh on you."

Krol puffed out his chest. "Nothing I can't handle." He guffawed. "It hasn't been so bad! I mean, look! I get to have my shop! It's very far from Scrapstar, sure, but I get to meet wonderful people. Like this little guy…He came with two gals. He really seemed to enjoy my collection of Scrapettes!"

Rivra chuckled. "Oh he did, did he? The guy in question…did he have brown hair? Kind of chubby?"

"Mm? Yeah, he did."

"Where is he now?"

Krol's eyes trailed to the floor.

"I'm afraid…he's in the Grandmaster's hands now."

"This Grandmaster…where is she?"

"Why? What're you planning?"

"He's important. I have to make sure he returns safely."

Krol exhaled, running a hand through his beard.

"She's taken him to her manor by now. But the place is so heavily guarded. You'd need an army to get in."

"I'm the strongest warrior in the universe. I am an army."

"But you don't have your eyes. And the guards…they have bullets that can pierce our skin."

"Oh? Is that so?" Rivra smiled. "Even if such a thing were true, nothing has ever pierced my skin. And as far as my eyes go…let's just say I smelled you from outside of town. I heard your heartbeat quicken as I entered the building. I tasted the oil in the air as I walked toward you." She shook her head, laughing. "I'm still more than capable, even without my eyes."

"That might be so…but…"

"Are you worried about me again?" She cupped one of his cheeks. "And what did I tell you before, years ago?"

"To believe in you."

"Please, believe in me now. Milo…he's very important to me and my crew. We need him. I have to find him."

Krol reached into his apron and touched the letter Rivra had written many years ago. Did she even remember writing that letter? He dared not ask, not wanting to risk ruining his memories of its contents. He shook his head, chuckling.

"Well, I owe him a favor, anyway. So, let me help you both."

***

(Of all the mistakes I've made, this has definitely got to be one of the worst.)

Milo sank into the plush mattress, an aroma of citrus and vanilla enveloping him. The knots in his stomach pulled tighter and tighter, while blood rushed into his ears. He licked his lips.

The chamber belonged to Grandmaster Des. Beautiful, handcrafted furniture lined the walls, resting on top of a patterned rug. A crystal chandelier dangled overhead, catching and reflecting the light from the electric lamps mounted on each wall. The room was so large it echoed with every breath Milo took.

(I could fit five of my studio apartments in here!)

Fiddling with the collar of his suit, he pressed the two-way radio button. Of course, nothing happened. Des had disabled the radio as soon as Tereine and Albany had left. He smacked himself in the head.

(Stupid! Stupid stupid stupid! Lucianna and Rivra are going to freak out…)

(But what other choice did I have? She was going to kill Krol.)

There came the soft click of a door unlocking, and the large double doors at the end of the room swung open. Two servants held the doors for their mistress as she sauntered into the room.

Her eyes fell on him, and the smile spreading across her lips made Milo's back tighten. Again, as with every time he'd been around this woman, the gem in his wrist ached with a dull, throbbing pain.

(Run! Far away! Don't let her catch you!)

He dropped his gaze.

Des waved her servants away, and they closed the doors behind them. She slunk toward the bed, slowly chewing through the distance between them. A predator stalking its prey, she devoured him with her eyes. Milo hunched over, trying to shrink into himself as much as possible.

Her smile grew wider, her tongue flicking at the air.

"You look so tense. No need to worry, boy."

She lifted his chin with a single talon. Her eyes burrowed into his very core, and goosebumps exploded along his neck and shoulders. She giggled.

"Your fear is delicious! Adorable, even."

She dropped his chin and spun around, exposing her back.

"Be a dear and undo my straps, hm? It gets quite stuffy in all this armor."

Seeing no other choice, Milo reached with shaking hands and fumbled with the thick leather straps. He jumped when Des burst out into laughter.

"Oh dear, is this your first time undressing a lady?"

"Y-yes."

"Ooooh, I knew it! No wonder you smelled so delectable~ Such a treasure I've found."

Nausea rolled up Milo's throat and settled like a stone in his cheeks. A cold sweat broke across his forehead as he loosened the first strap. The other straps proved just as torturous, with Des continuing her relentless mockery.

"Come on, boy! It's almost dinnertime, and I'm rather famished!" She glanced over her shoulder, dragging her tongue across her scaly lips. "I'm so hungry I could eat you!"

Milo yanked the last strap loose, and Des slipped out of the armor.

Her hands shot out, snatching Milo's wrists as she pinned him to the bed. A cloth wrap alone restrained and covered her heavy chest. Her scales faded from a dark red to a pale yellow on her stomach.

She straddled Milo, her weight crushing him against the mattress. Her eyes gleamed, her lips parting.

"Mmmm. It'd be naughty of me to eat my dessert before dinner." She lowered her head so their lips were only inches from each other. Her breath, sulfuric and hot, crashed over Milo with growing intensity. "It'll be our little secret, right?" She dragged her tongue up his cheek, smacking her lips with a gasp. "Such a delightful flavor! Sweet innocence, salty fear…the perfect combination!"

She pinned his wrists together with one hand, moving the other hand to his chest. A single talon sunk into the collar of his suit, and like cutting through paper, she sliced open the suit down to his waist. Her eyes widened as she swallowed the sight of his bare skin.

"Mmmm, I can hardly resist~"

She licked at his belly button, tracing circles around the recessed flesh. Trails of hot spit caused a jolt to course through him. He squirmed, his hips bucking slightly.

"Such a delicacy! But maybe it's time I get to the main course…"

A pit formed in his stomach as she hooked a talon into his suit again, aiming to drag her claw south of his waist.

A rapid knocking came at the door.

"Grandmaster Des!"

"I'm busy!"

"My apologies, ma'am! But a riot has broken out in the square!"

She rolled her eyes. "And? Can't you handle a few pesky drunks yourself?"

"Ma'am, the rioter is a Scrapster woman!"

"And? Shoot her with your rifles! How do you dress yourself every day?"

"She's not just any Scrapster woman…she's the princess! The one with a 100,000,000 credit bounty on her head!"

Milo gulped.

(Rivra? Did she come for me?)

Des exhaled through her nose. "Fine. I'll be there shortly."

She rolled off of Milo and retrieved her armor from the ground. As she laced the straps back up, Milo's stomach turned over. The nausea radiated in his face and throat.

Des blew him a kiss.

"Wait for me, my snack~"

She headed for the door, the lock clicking shut as she ensured Milo wouldn't escape.

He gasped for air and sprung from the bed, finding the nearest trash bin.

After the nausea faded, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. His eyes darted around the room.

"Have to get out of here. Can't let them do anything to Rivra!"

He stumbled along the walls. No windows. Only one set of doors. With no knowledge of pick-locks, he had to break down the door. But nothing he could find—clothes, whips, and heavy furniture—could prove useful in his goal.

He rammed his shoulder into the door and bounced back, half because of the door's sturdy construction, half because his body still shook from nausea. But he rose again. And he charged the door.

He bounced off again, this time sprawling along the rug, a cry escaping him as fiery pain burst along his right shoulder.

"Hey, quiet down in there! Grandmaster Des will be back soon enough."

Milo bit down on his lip, suppressing another cry. He didn't want to draw any more attention to himself. But he needed to escape. Rivra could handle herself, but Des had bullets that could pierce her skin! Surely Albany and Tereine had said something, and that's why Rivra had shown up.

(Dammit, I have to get out of here!)

A loud bang rented the air, and the chatter of guards rose like mosquitos buzzing.

"Hey, you! Stop right—"

There was a metallic thud and a scraping of metal along the floor as another guard screamed out. Several blows rung out, and the blast of a rifle caused Milo to clasp his hands over his ears.

The commotion lasted only a few more moments, before finally the only sound that made it through the door was the heavy breathing of a single person.

"Get away from the door!"

Then came a pounding at the door. With each subsequent blow, the frames budged another half-inch, until, finally, the double doors flew open, slamming against the walls. Milo stared wide-eyed at the hulking figure before him.

Krol stretched out a hand and grinned through his beard.

"Come on, Milo! Rivra's waiting for you!"