It wasn’t hard to sit there in his restraints and stare at the wall. It wasn’t hard to tell them over and over that there was no Gate, he knew of no Gate, his father had been building no Gate. Boring, yes, but not hard. And it only took the regulation fifty days to convince them.

Now he was here, in yet another prison transport ship with the engines thumping in time to his headache, on his way to the last home he’d ever see.

Kane gained his feet slowly, his throat locked against the groans his body demanded. The Fleet used wargu’unal to pacify its prisoners when they were moved. Endoxis was nothing, pleasant even, gave you good dreams. Wargu’unal now, that shit was dangerous.

“Ah, it stirs!” The prison ship’s pilot, a bored-looking veteran, was watching him from the console, grinning hugely. “What a shame. You looked so peaceful lying there. Wouldn’t you say peaceful, Devus?”

“I’d say peaceful.” The co-pilot was fresh, scarcely into his majority, and he looked more scared than anything else, but he managed a mocking grin to impress his pilot. “I’d even say pretty.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Would you now?” the pilot purred. “Well, E’Var, that’s convenient for you, isn’t it?” He ran a lazy eye up and down Kane’s body. “I hear the pretty ones get special attention at Tyuk station.”

Kane rolled his eyes and leaned against the hull since there wasn’t anyplace but the floor to sit. He wasn’t worried about prison, Tyuk or any other. He wasn’t looking forward to it by a damn sight, but he wasn’t worried. He’d find a way to come out on top. Somehow.

‘That’s the stuff,’ Urak said, far back in his mind. ‘E’Var is survival. Never forget where you came from, boy.’

“They say the first time’s the roughest,” the pilot continued, recapturing his sour attention. He was still giving Kane too close a stare. “If you live through it, you ought to come out fine.”

Kane showed his fangs in a humorless smile and dropped his hand to cup his crotch. “Come and get some,” he invited. “Break me in. I feel like fucking.”

The kid recoiled, shooting uneasy glances at his partner, who gazed back at Kane with an expression he no doubt thought concealed his inclination to do exactly that. Prison transporter pilot. The lowest rank in the Fleet, the stair everyone else stepped over. Probably never had a female in his life he hadn’t bought, and judging by the lines time had carved into him, he never would. What was there for him but meager coin for Kevrian sex-houses and the occasional wrestle with shackled trade like Kane?

“Step it up, you stupid slave-fucker,” Kane snarled. “Do you want my ass or not?”

He saw the dull point of rotting teeth as the pilot’s lip curled, but that was all. Kane wanted him to come. Even in shackles, he could kill a man, and once the holding bay’s restraining shield was down, Kane could be through it and digging his claws into the co-pilot’s throat. So let him come. Just let him.

No. The pilot’s eyes had a way of sliding back toward his young partner. He’d never make a move in front of him. In the great ladder of sexual depravity, male rape was right down at the bottom, lower even than the rape of a non-ranking female. At least females were desirable. Raping him in front of his co-pilot would be a blatant admission to the worst kind of deviancy.

Kane snorted and looked up, losing himself in thought as his eyes rested on the ceiling panels. Prison. Shu-ra.

The console sounded a hail, and attention was diverted back to the transporter’s own dead-end jobs. Kane listened in, bitter and disinterested, but bored.

“Carrier 8-33, this is Carrier 6-16. Say again, prison transport vessel Depahg, this is prison transport vessel Sa’anar. Kerner, is that you?”

The pilot thumbed the transmitter, giving Kane a last, black glare. “It’s me. How’s it biting you, Rak?”

The answer was laughter, a great rush of it. “Oh gods, has it ever been biting! I need a favor, Kerner. You headed to Tyuk by any chance?”

“I am.” Kerner showed his fangs to Kane in smirk.

Kane pumped his hips back at him, expressionless.

Kerner’s smile wiped away. He glanced again at his co-pilot, who was oblivious to all as he gave the console the regulation check-over, and then he leaned back in his chair. “You know who I’ve got locked in my bay? Kanetus E’Var.”

“Yeah, great. I need that favor, friend.”

Kerner’s frown was something Kane could feel, even if he couldn’t see it. Then again, when one’s entire reputation was patched together by the notoriety of one’s temporary cargo, having someone brush off a name like Kane’s was bound to sting.

“What favor?”

“I’ve got a man here bound for Tyuk, too. Can you take him in for me?”

Kerner glanced at his co-pilot, who looked positively scandalized by the prospect.

The voice of Rak broke in, laughing nervously. “I wouldn’t ask, friend, truly I wouldn’t, but…there’s a female in it for me.”

Kane could all but feel the ears (and certain other parts) perking up. He snorted again and crossed his arms. A female. They didn’t know what a real female was. The loss of Raven rose up and hit him with the twice the force than the thought of prison had. He could still feel her mouth on him, could still feel her tight cunt taking him in.

The void she left in him was like a fist to the gut. Even if the ghost of his father were to appear right now and wing him magically through space to Earth, he’d never find her again. Even if she were waiting for him, even if she wanted to be found, he could never hope to stumble over her. She was gone, as good as dead. His Raven.

“Can’t be done,” the pilot was saying now, still eyeing his young partner.

“If I turned around right now, I could have half a day with her,” Rak continued urgently. “If I go all the way to Tyuk and back, I’ll lose it all. I’m begging, Kerner.”

“Rules are rules.”

“This is no ordinary female. Gods, if you only knew the things she could do. When was the last time you had a fuck so hot, you screamed out loud?”

“Do prisoners count?” Kane called.

“Shut up,” the pilot grunted.

“She can roll her cunt like the ocean tide,” Rak was saying reverently. “She’ll do anything I ask her. She’ll beg for my cock like it was dipped in D’gren. She knows how to use her mouth to do things you can’t even imagine.”

Kane’s stomach clenched. Raven. His obedient, ferocious little fuck-mate. Her mouth had been like water in the desert, the purest kind of bliss.

“Listen, do this for me,” Rak said. “Gods, Kerner, you’re going there anyway, aren’t you? Just take this piece of nothing with you and…and I’ll introduce you. My female is mad for mating. She’s sick for it. She’ll do whatever I want to get it. She’ll even fuck you.”

Kane glanced up, smiling wryly. That was a damned good hook, and it had Kerner right by the cock.

“We can’t,” the co-pilot whispered.

“Shut up, Devus,” Kerner said, working at the console. “And grow up. Rak, you’re clear to dock, but you better not be feeding me air about this female. If I don’t get a fuck into her, I’m putting one in you.”

The transmitter scratched laughter. Kane couldn’t tell if the unseen Rak believed the old pilot or not. He could hear only the cock-happy giddiness of one who knew he was soon to be thrashing to the hilt in a female’s oils.

“Well, my pretty prisoner.” Kerner stood up laconically and strolled back to wait by the airlock, grinning at Kane. “Looks like we’re both in for a fuck tonight. I’ll be getting cunt. You’ll be playing one.”

Kane flicked his claws at him with contempt. “I’ve had more cunt than you’ve ever seen.”

True things had a way of stabbing deeper than mere insults. Kane saw the old transporter’s eyes narrow, and then he turned away and was grimly silent. Kane showed his teeth in a cold smile. “Tell you what,” he said, “just so you know I don’t take any of this personally, next time you’re spending your pay to a Kevrian—”