Chapter 2: Next Time, Skip the Foreplay

Seven awoke the next morning in a bed she did not recognize, next to a naked blonde she only kind of recognized. What was her name again? Sabrina? Sarah? Samantha? Something like that. It didn’t matter. Sev had gotten what she wanted out of the encounter, and now it was time to get to work. She took one more moment to admire…Sasha’s?...creamy skin and wonderful curves before rising out of the bed and recovering her clothes. Walking around the city in a corset and miniskirt might raise some eyebrows, but it was nothing she hadn’t done before.

She got only halfway through lacing up her corset when she heard stirring from the bed. “Leaving already?” Sadie said. “I was hoping to have some more fun with you when you woke up.”

Fun was an understatement. Whatever this woman’s name was, she was a bit of a pillow princess. But Sev didn’t mind. She enjoyed making her partners make all sorts of sweet sounds, and Sharon over here was no exception. She’d made her come more times than she could count, and definitely disturbed a neighbor or two with her screams. When it came to the big stuff—life, love, purpose—Sev was as lost as they come. But when it came to sex, she knew what she was doing. Side effect of an unstable upbringing and an intense hunger for pleasure.

Tempted as she was to take her up on her offer, Sev shook her head. “Sorry. I got work to do.” It wasn’t a lie. She was supposed to meet with her crew in thirty minutes, and it took at least twenty to reach Moonphase, the Rogue-friendly bar they used as their meeting place.

“You’re no fun,” Samara said. Was that it? Anybody’s guess. “Well, don’t go out in that outfit. Here, take this.” She opened a dresser drawer next to the bed and threw Sev a pair of shorts and a pink t-shirt that was far too long to use as anything other than pajamas. It certainly wasn’t Sev’s style, but clothes are clothes. She undid the few laces of her corset, let it fall to the ground, and threw the shirt over her head. The word “SLUT” was scrawled across the front in glittering cursive. Sev couldn’t exactly argue.  

“Really?”

Sandra—that must be it, Sandra—laughed and adjusted her body so the covers were cascading off her breasts. Sev’s eyes shifted instinctively to the woman’s nipples, which were both perky and hard with anticipation. Warmth and desire flushed through her, desire she pushed away for the time being. “Do you object?”

Sev shrugged. “No. I suppose it’s accurate. But if you’re giving this to me in the hopes I’ll come back and return it, I have bad news for you.”

“Yeah, you’re just getting over a breakup and you’re not looking for anything other than a one time thing, I remember. You told me last night. But…” she rolled over onto her side, letting the bedsheet slide off her body to reveal more of her naked body—waist, hips, pear-shaped thighs, and so much more. Sev’s mouth watered. “...maybe you’ll change your mind.”

Sev gulped. Maybe she would indeed. If this job went well, she’d have cash to spare and a reason to rejoice. And she could think of worse ways to spend it than in between Sandra’s thighs. 

But Sandra was barking up the wrong tree if she thought Sev was girlfriend material, or thought that’s what Sev was looking for. The Felicity debacle made that crystal clear. 

“Maybe,” is all Sev said on the matter. “But I really do have to be going. Thanks for the clothes.” She pulled on the shorts Sandra lent her, grabbed her purse, and turned to leave.

“No kiss goodbye?” she heard Sandra say behind her. Sev made the mistake of turning around, only to see the blonde sprawled across the bed, fully nude. Her mouth hung open for a moment. Maybe she could stay for just a little while longer.

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Sev rushed into Moonphase nearly an hour late, still wearing nothing other than a pair of silk shorts and a shirt that called attention to the exact reason why she was late. It wasn’t exactly the classiest of entrances, but at least they were still there when she arrived. The rest of the crew were gathered around the speakeasy’s bar, a small countertop cluttered with stools. Three of them were huddled around the bar when Sev made her entrance, pulling over a fourth stool and squeezing in next to Reddick, a rather large and burly man with ebony-dark skin and a thick, tangled beard of black and gray. The group’s muscle, Reddick was playful and warm to his friends, and a terror to anyone else. He gave her the once-over and followed with a wicked grin. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t our newest addition, fresh out of…laundry day?”

“Ha ha,” Sev monotoned. She had only to grab the bartender’s attention before a drink slid her way—a whiskey on the rocks, just as she liked it. Unlike most establishments in the arcology, Moonphase had a human bartender. He anticipated their wants and needs much better than a synth would, and made for decent conversation, too. 

“Seriously though Seven, you’re late,” Talys, another of their group, chimed in. She was the crew’s “retrieval specialist,” as she preferred to be called. Everyone else just called her a thief. Like Sev, she’d grown up on the streets, stealing what she could to survive. Unlike Sev, she’d risen above her station and made quite a name for herself on the black market. And she refused to let anyone look down on her. “Nice shirt, by the way. Next time maybe skip the foreplay?” She was the consummate professional, but also kind of a hardass. As usual, her dirty blonde hair had been pulled into a high, tight ponytail that screamed business. She refused to wear makeup, viewing it as a distraction. She and Sev couldn’t be more different if they’d held a contest.

Sev flushed red, but held her ground. “Half of you would have done the same in my shoes,” she said, giving Reddick a grin. He nodded and returned her smile twofold. When Red wanted to lighten the mood, he knew how to make it count.

“Okay, which are you counting me as?” said Suzuki, who was sitting furthest from Sev. She wore an outfit that screamed sex, as usual: all tight, strappy leather that accentuated her curves, curves she had in spade. If Sev didn’t know any better, she’d guess that Suzuki spent time in the same club Sev had last night. But Suzuki was a domme, and she worked in private.

They’d almost had a thing, once. Sev liked to be tied up, and Suzuki liked doing the tying. It never quite turned into sex, though there was a sexual edge to the whole thing, and Sev would often go home drenched through her panties, craving release more than anything in the world. Only Suzuki had made her feel that way—but it wasn’t because of who she was, just her skill set. Still, if she’d wanted more, Sev wouldn’t refuse.

As far as the crew was concerned, Suzuki was part seductress, part grifter. She would find easy marks and lull them into bad decisions, the kinds of decisions that allowed a thief or a runner to slip by defenses easily. Sometimes it meant taking a mark to bed. More often than not, it just required a suggestive smirk and the promise of a night one would never forget. That much was true, at least. Nobody forgets getting scorched.

“Please, you know I’m counting Ravi as the other buzzkill. Speaking of which, where is that smug bastard?” Sev replied after a sip of whiskey.

As if on cue, a man addressed the crew from behind. “This smug bastard is right here. And now that you’ve finally deigned to join us, it’s time to brief. We have an Op to run.” The four of them spun to face Ravi, their fixer. He was the only client-facing member of their crew. He made all the plans, and all the backup plans, and all the backup backup plans. He would disavow any of them without a second thought if it meant saving his hide. He was also a necessary piece of the Rogue puzzle; without him, they’d be lost in a sea of shit jobs and dead ends.

Ravi wore gray trousers and a gray suit vest over a gray dress shirt with a gray pinstripe tie, and that pretty much summed him up in a nutshell. His short black hair was combed neatly to one side, and his striking blue eyes were trained on Sev’s shirt. “I’m not even going to ask.”

“Please don’t,” Seven added.

He motioned for the crew to join them in one of the corner tables, far from prying ears, although there was barely anyone else in the bar at this hour, and it was a haven for Rogues, besides. Still, Ravi always kept to his rules, and one of those rules was total secrecy. It wouldn’t do well for another crew to hijack their Ops, after all, he would often remind them. “Where’s Xiaoyeng?” Sev asked as they took their seats, referencing the final member of their crew, not counting Rylee, their informant.

“Xiaoyeng won’t be necessary for this Op,” Ravi explained, rapping on the table with wrinkled brown knuckles. A nearby waitress flipped him off. He rolled his eyes and adjusted his tie as though the whole thing had been planned from the start. Sev often associated Ravi with a stuck-up cat: aloof, impersonal, and unable to accept any hit to his pride whatsoever.

“Really? We’re running an Op without our driver? Guess that means we’re banking on an easy exit,” Suzuki said.

Ravi nodded. “That’s exactly right. This is going to be a simple smash and grab, just without the smashing. We should be in and out before the mark even knows what hit them.

“What am I here for, then?” Reddick asked, eyebrows raised.

“You’re my backup plan for if Seven fucks up our entrance,” the fixer replied. Sev bristled in her seat.

“I won’t fuck it up.”

“That’s right,” Suzuki chimed in. “You saw how Sev took down the ICE over at Seung. She’s a pro.”

Sev smiled. Suzuki was the reason she and Rylee had joined the crew to begin with—they’d met long before she met Ravi and the rest, and Suzuki had been the one to tell the rest of the crew about her new runner friend and her Corpo buddy. Rylee helped them with a few jobs first, after which they decided to bring Sev on board too. And she’d proven herself, just as Suzuki had said.

“I don’t make backup plans because I expect my crew to fail,” Ravi responded, cradling his hands in front of him, “I make backup plans because sometimes, failure is unavoidable.” 

“We understand,” Reddick said, ever the conciliator. “So what’s the Op? Who we goin’ after? Black Moon? Phylact? Seung again?” He listed off several major Corps. But Ravi shook his head.

“No Corp this time. Hence why Ry isn’t involved, either. Our mark is a private individual, a major player in the Institute. She’s been one of their head scientists for years. As such, her records are likely to include a lot of inside knowledge we can use to our advantage in future Ops.”

Sev plopped her whiskey on the table, surprised. Looking around, it seemed that Talys, Reddick and Suzuki were just as confused. The Institute had never been their target before—they were part of the establishment just the same as any Corp, to be sure. But their main interest was in the Ark, a generational space project that never quite got off the ground. Nowadays they mostly dealt in politics and even ran their own private university. She thought their only real priority these days was in ensuring the arcology continued to run unabated. Sev was all for tearing shit down, but tearing down the walls that kept them safe from the nightmare outside was maybe not the best idea.

“She’s also probably rich as hell, am I right?” Talys added with a smirk. 

Ravi nodded with a sigh. “Yes, Talys, she also possesses some considerable wealth which you may relieve her of. After all, we do have to eat, and Sev needs better equipment than the shit she runs with now.”

Sev gave him a glare, but he was right. She was broke, and icebreakers were expensive. She’d built her console herself out of scraps and even coded several of her programs herself, but the most up-to-date breakers could only be found on the shadow net, and cost a pretty penny.

“All right,” Reddick said, “So who is this lady? And what’s the plan?”

“Her name is Marion Bordeaux,” Ravi said, pulling up a holo-image of the woman on his wristpad. A hardlight pic of a beautiful 30-something appeared, a blonde wearing a pair of narrow glasses. Only her upper body was visible in the image, but Sev found herself jealous of Suzuki in that moment—she’d expected a stuffy academic type, but Marion was downright gorgeous, with striking hazel eyes, sharp cheekbones, and a long, slender neck that begged to be kissed. She may have just come down from a series of pretty fantastic orgasms with a hot blonde, but that only drove her mind even more into the gutter. “I happened across her invite to an Institute conference later tonight at the Arclight Hotel on Deck 8.” A few whistles flew across the table. That was some extravagantly fancy shit right there. Ravi was the only one who wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb at a place like that.

“She’s going to be staying on the 24th floor,” Ravi continued, “So here’s the plan. Suzuki, you’re going to pose as a high-paying donor by the name of Aiko Tanaka. I’ve had a friend of mine forge several documents to that effect, and it cost quite a bit, so make good use of it. You’re to occupy Marion in whatever way you think best while Talys helps Seven infiltrate Marion’s hotel room from the exterior.”

Oh, good. Heights. Sev grew up in the B-decks, where ceilings were low and cramped, and heights didn’t exist. Up above ground, she had to get used to craning her neck to see the artificial atmosphere. It was dizzying.

“Once inside, Seven will break through Arclight’s security, gain access to Marion’s files locally, and extract any useful data she can. Talys, while she’s occupied, you’ll secure an exit route. If we’re lucky, Reddick won’t be needed at all.”

“And if we’re unlucky?” Reddick asked, his voice low and serious.

“If we’re unlucky, you’re there to make sure hotel security doesn’t fuck the whole Op up.” It was more of a threat than it sounded—a place like Arclight wouldn’t just have armed guards, they’d have ex-military types just hankering to gun down a threat to hotel clientele. Reddick nodded in understanding.

“You all have your assignments. We’re to meet in Deck 8 Central Station at 17 o’clock. Bring the same upper-deck credentials I secured for you for the Seung Op; those should work for at least the next few weeks. Seven, this operation hinges on you. Get your gear in order and make sure all your programs are functioning optimally. Oh, and one more thing.”

She glared at him, knowing what was coming next.

“Maybe wear a different shirt tonight.”

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Next Chapter!