Intergalactic Courtesan Ch. 13

"I told him we were working on a new process to increase the potency of Fikhylthan," Schorrruk admitted. He brushed his rank sash. "He seemed most intrigued by the idea."

Desirée had heard rumours that the Kahlis IX despot was addicted to the drug, similar to Earth's cocaine. Apparently they were true. The other Naghra chuckled apreciatively.

"And that is why we deal with General Xerkis," Shhirikkh leaned back in his chair. "Addicts are so tractable once you find their weakness. Is there any way we can develop such a process?"

"Trafficking in illegal narcotics carries harsh penalties," the oldest Naghra observed. "I understood our Queen had decided that catering to the General's addiction carried too many unacceptable risks."

"That was then. This is now," Shhirikkh said. "No blame rests on you, Schorruk. Your life was in danger and you did what you had to do to survive. Nevertheless, I see several ways we can profit from this situation."

"But our orders --" the eldest Naghra said.

"Our orders are to keep the Kahlis System destabilized so we can extract the maximum profit, Shallakh," Shhirikkh snapped. "This is why you're supplying the rebels and Schorruk is negotiating with General Kahlis. This instability increases our profits, and whoever eventually wins the conflict will offer us favourable trading status no matter what. Either way, the Kahlis System will be in our Queen's back pocket. Besides, there's no need to get our hands dirty, if we use the usual cut-outs. Do you have your usual team ready, Kallasss?"

"Wait, you were planning all of this?" Shallakh was horrified. As for Desirée, she was desperately trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. She glued her eyes to the ceiling, knowing her UTD was recording the conversation, hoping Schorrruk wouldn't suddenly have the urge to play with his minicomp again.

Shhirikkh snorted. "Of course. I suspected we'd need another hold on the good General right from the beginning."

Kallasss bowed. "My team is prepped and in position, honoured sir. They've coincidentally procured some Fikhylthan so they're ready to go. They naturally have no idea who is bankrolling their operation."

"You provided them with the drug?"

"No, honoured Shallakh," Kallasss bowed again. "They found a supply without any assistance from us. All we need do is assist them with the refining and put them in touch with the good General."

Excellent," Shhirikkh said. "I need not remind you that anyone who discusses strategy with anyone outside of this group will be . . . dealt with." He looked pointedly at Shallakh. The gray-skinned alien bowed, his face pale. "Speaking of 'dealt with,' has our Inspector Jo-Burrsh taken the bait we offered him?"

"It is difficult to say, honoured sir," another Naghra said. "We successfully neutralized his partner so his judgement should be properly clouded. But it's too early to tell whether or not he's taken our bait. Our observers recently spotted him on Galos IV, visiting the Courtesans' Guild."

Desirée held her breath, once again grateful the stasis field froze her facial expressions. If the Naghra knew who ran the Galos IV Guild house and her species . . .

"Interesting," Shhirikkh said. "And on a police officer's salary?" He chuckled. "It appears our incorruptible detective may not be as incorruptible as we initially believed. This bears looking into. Who did he meet there? Was it the Guild administrator?"

"No, honoured sir. He met with Senior Courtesan Ssurhuk-T'at and possibly another. We haven't discovered who. The Courtesans' Guild security is difficult to penetrate."

"Not surprising, considering the caliber of those who utilize their services," Shhirikkh said. "Nevertheless, even the fact that the incomparable Jo-Burrsh visited the Guild could be used against him. See what further information we can unearth." The Naghra bowed.

"Any further reports?" Shhirikkh eyed his team. "Excellent. I see some of the other tables are lowering their screens so we should do the same. It will also give our waiters time to bring us the dessert course." He belched. Desirée could tell he was still intoxicated from sampling her pussy. "You know what to do, Schorruk."

The junior Naghra pulled out his minicomp and deactivated the privacy screen. Just in time, Desirée remembered to tell her UTD not to start broadcasting. Schorruk's minicomp would notice the signal, blowing her cover.

The screen came down, and several waiters surrounded the table, cleaning up the mess. Desirée was caught between relief that she was no longer alone with the treacherous reptiles, and irritation that she hadn't received the orgasm she so desperately craved.

A group of waiters lifted the tray. Once again, the young Draco was close to her head. They carried her away from the table, Desirée relaxing from the sudden release of a tension she didn't realize she was under.

"Should you have any information to download, Guild Courtesan Tanner," the Draco whispered in her ear, "it should be safe to do so now."

***

Desirée unpacked her bag, hunting for her toiletry kit. Jo-Burrsh had taken her to a safe house well away from either Kalala's kitchen or banquet hall. The combination of nervousness, the putty holding the glass jars on her flesh and Naghra saliva coating her pussy and thighs made her feel disgusting. She was looking forward to a long, relaxing shower, an extended bout of masturbation, and then a good night's sleep. Interstellar lag was a pain to recover, and she was feeling like she'd just been put through the wringer. It didn't help that she hadn't had a chance to relieve the tension of her interrupted orgasm.

Just as she wrapped her red-and-gold simi-silk robe around her naked body, her door chimed. She groaned in frustration, knowing the sound couldn't carry through the walls.

She checked the door's optic pickup: it was Jo-Burrsh. "Enter," she called; the door responded to her voice.

The door irised open and Jo-Burrsh entered. Despite the fact that the massive Taurean looked like she felt, he was grinning.

"Thank you once again, Ms. Tanner." He ordered a stein of Ybarran beer from the food dispenser before he collapsed onto a smart chair. "You have no idea how much valuable information you provided me . . . I mean, us."

"I suspect I do," she replied more tartly than she intended. "Did you get the information about your partner?"

Jo-Burrsh took a long pull from his stein before he nodded. "I suspected as much, but that conversation confirmed it. Those bastards aren't nearly as smart as they think they are." He bared his teeth. "Ambassador Shhirikkh and his cabal have confessed to murdering a peace officer, treason and conspiracy to commit an indictable offense at the very least. I'm sure both General Xerkis and the Kahlis IX rebels will be very interested in knowing how he's are playing them. It won't defuse the situation, but both sides will pick their friends more carefully from now on." He sighed. "It's a start."

"You do realize that, once the Naghra get a visual of who runs the Galos IV Guild house, they'll quickly know they've been played," she said. "Have you taken the necessary steps?"

Jo-Burrsh nodded. "The recording has been downloaded to the CBI Net plus that of local law forces, and Varney -- the Draco who was your backup -- has a copy. You'll stay here tonight and tomorrow I've chartered a private transport that will take us back to Galos IV. We shall get a police escort to and from the freighter. There's nothing to worry about."

He was silent for several seconds, his eyes closed. Desirée wondered if he had fallen asleep.

"Anything else?" she asked loudly. She desperately wanted that shower and . . . other things.

"Ah!" The beer nearly sloshed out of its stein; he had been asleep. "Um . . ." he frowned, trying to think.

"I'd like to have a shower," she said tartly. "Unless you'd care to join me." The offer came out more seriously than she intended.

Jo-Burrsh chuckled, rubbing his eyes. "I couldn't afford your rates, Ms. Tanner," he said. "Besides . . ." Too late, she noticed the wedding collar around his neck.

"My husband would skin me alive if I ever dallied with another being and, frankly, I'd probably let him," he said. "I'm hoping to get a desk job once this case is wrapped up. This job takes me away from him and the kids far too often for our liking." He sighed. "The curse of being too good at your job."

"How long have you been married?"

"Ten years," he smiled, exhausted. "We've tubed three wonderful children together. He been incredibly understanding, but he's been asking me to get a job closer to home for a while now."

"Good luck with that," Desirée said, meaning it.

"Thank you." He stood up, and walked towards the door. "You'll be interested to know that Chef Kalala found you, and your scents, very intriguing. For now, I forbade any further contact between you in the interests of operational security, but he said he'd like to call upon you in your official capacity at some point. Is that agreeable to you?"

Desirée smiled despite her frustration. "Tell him I'd be more than happy to entertain him sometime. It would be best if he arranged a visit through Ssurhuk-T'at on Galos IV."

"I will," Jo-Burrsh promised. The door irised open and he stepped through. "Another agent will escort you to a private airport in the morning. I'll be on the transport, but it's best if we're not seen together for the next little while."

"Understood."

"Great." Jo-Burrsh stepped through but then leaned back into the room, arresting the closing door. "Thank you very much for your help, Guild Courtesan Tanner, and . . ." He grinned. "If I weren't married, was attracted to females and could afford your rates, I would love to have you entertain me."

Desirée laughed. "Thank you for the flattery, Inspector. Good night."

"Good night." The door irised closed. Desirée sighed, locking it. Her gown puddled around her ankles as she grabbed her toiletry bag. Hopefully this shower had a hand-held nozzle . . .

***

Desirée lounged in her cabin, watching the multi-coloured streaks of light flash by as the small transport hummed through interstellar space. The latest headlines from a news site flickered in her right retina; she mentally bookmarked articles on the latest round of economic negotiations with the Camrhil System, plus a favourable review of a-Rym's latest multi-media presentation from the respected art critic Hmylpthk. Desirée never forgot that courtesans were supposed to be informed of current events, since their conversational abilities were as crucial as their sexual techniques.

She frowned when she felt a sudden deceleration. It would be at least another day before the ship entered the Galos System; there was no reason for the ship to be shifting out of hyperspace so early. She checked her UTD: the computer obediently began comparing the ship's location to known star charts as the streaks of lights slowed to the glow of normal space.

Desirée paled when the display flashed in her retinas. She immediately commed Jo-Burrsh.

"Inspector!" she said when he appeared in her retinas. "We're stopping in the Kahlis System!" She fought to keep hysteria out of her voice.

"What?" He had been sleeping; he shook his horned head to force himself awake. She could see him get a faraway stare as he consulted his own UTD. "I'll check with the crew, and find out what's going on."

"You don't understand!" she said. "It's not safe for me to be in this system. Courtesans have no legal rights here-" The ship shuddered, the inertial compensators kicking in to cover the sudden loss of acceleration.

"Don't worry," he soothed. "Officially, you're a temporary member of the Diplomatic Corps. As long as you stay in your cabin and you're not wearing Guild colours, you should be fine. Stay where you are and-"

His signal cut out. Desirée blinked in shock; this was the first time a call between UTD's had ever failed this way. She didn't bother trying to reconnect, she just launched herself towards the door, trying to hit the lock switch.

The door irised open. Several guards in powered armour entered the cabin, their rifles at the ready.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded as the soldiers forced her back. She noticed they wore the shoulder flashes of Kahlis IX Marines.

"My name is Desirée Tanner of the Confederation Diplomatic Corps," she announced, remembering her classes in interstellar law. "Unlawfully detaining a diplomat without access to a lawyer is an infraction of-"

The row of armoured Marines opened up to show a frighteningly familiar figure wearing the uniform of a general in the Kahlis IX military. His brown-furred face was stretched in a maniacal grin; his pupils were mere slits and blood-shot, sure signs of a Fikhylthan addict.

A furred paw across her left cheek sent her sprawling across the room. Luckily his claws were sheathed.

"Whores have no rights," announced General Xerkis.

(to be continued . . .)