Fox and Dragon Read online

  FOX AND DRAGON

  Jet Mykles

  ®

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable (BDSM).

  DISCLAIMER: Many of the acts described in our BDSM/fetish titles can be dangerous. Loose Id publishes these stories for members of the community in which these acts are known and practiced safely. If you have an interest in the pleasures and pains you find described herein, we urge you to seek out advice and guidance from knowledgeable persons. Please do not try any new sexual practice, whether it be fire, rope, or whip play, without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

  Fox and Dragon

  Jet Mykles

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © April 2007 by Jet Mykles

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-460-2

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Raven McKnight

  Cover Artist: Anne Cain

  Dedication

  Luisa, Kim, Ally, Jen, and Willa. The crit partners who wouldn’t let me quit, even when I really wanted to.

  Alvin, for putting my head on straight.

  And Cynn and Eve for hounding me to write it in the first place.

  Chapter One

  “You can’t recruit him just because he’s Krystanni.”

  “You have a particular problem with Krystanni, Lieutenant?”

  Beth couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Of course not, sir. I don’t believe what they say applies to every person from Krystan, but to hire him just because he’s Krystanni is not right.”

  Colonel Werner sat back in his desk chair, toying with the dark cigar he held between two fingers. The ventilated air thankfully carried the reek of smoke away before it reached Beth’s nose. “We’ve been asked to take him on as a favor.”

  “A favor?”

  He set the butt of the cigar to his lips and pulled in a lungful of smoke. He regarded her steadily with those glittering blue eyes as he let smoke drift from narrow nostrils. “The Krystanni government has accused the Emirate of lack of representation. So we’re looking to place qualified Krystannis in various functions within the Emirate.”

  “Which is reverse discrimination, sir.”

  He raised an index finger in the air. “Not at all. We’re looking for qualified personnel.” He turned the finger down and tapped the datasheet that sat on top of his desk, facing toward her. “This kid has all the makings of a first-class veeby pilot.”

  Beth grimaced, glancing again at the image on the datasheet. Just judging by the “kid’s” smirk, she could tell he was trouble. “I understand and applaud the Krystanni efforts to gain fairer representation, but reverse discrimination was an issue from the late twentieth century and into the twenty-first. Have we learned nothing from our past?”

  Werner studied the tip of his cigar, thinking. Smoke curled up and about his bald pate.

  Beth leaned in, trying to make her point. “With all due respect, Colonel, send him to Balour or Penske Station. The security here on Rainier is not a laughing matter.” She gestured at the slim metafilm datasheet that lay between them. “I reviewed the documents you sent to me, and I saw his training videos. He’s dangerous! He’s got a track record of being reckless, both with people and with ships. I don’t want him flying any of my veebys.”

  He regarded her with a smile. “Your veebys, Lieutenant? And when did the VBY Emirate flighters become your ships?”

  Beth frowned softly, sitting back in her chair. “That’s not what I meant, sir.”

  Werner chuckled. “But it’s what you said.” He sighed, setting the cigar aside in an ashtray at the corner of his desk. “Unfortunately, I’m going to have to pull rank on you in this one, lieutenant. The Krystanni deserve some recognition, and even without that, I’ve heard nothing but excellent remarks about the kid.”

  She folded her hands in her lap, wondering if she managed to look the slightest bit contrite. Stars knew she didn’t feel it. “It’s my duty to give you my educated opinion, sir.”

  “I know that, Fox, and I appreciate it.” He folded his hands on the desk before him, and she recognized the echo of her own movement. No doubt a conscious choice on his part. “I’ve heard your concerns, and I do understand them. But the kid’s good enough to make it here on his own.”

  She eyed him levelly, tapping one fingernail on her knee. “Sir, have you seen his record?”

  “I’ve seen it. It’s a lot like your early history, isn’t it, lieutenant?”

  Her fingernail grazed the smooth fabric of her slacks. “My history does not involve flying E21 flitters through volcanic ash.”

  “But it does involve taking early, untested prototypes of veeby fighters into dogfights.”

  “That veeby wasn’t entirely untested,” she grumbled, knowing it would make him laugh. She smiled herself. But a glance at the datasheet on the desk reminded her of her very real concerns. “Sir, I don’t trust him. We can’t take on greenies with delusions of grandeur and make them part of the security elite.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not making him part of the elite.” He glanced at the monitor beside his elbow. “But he will be promoted to ensign second class.”

  “Second --?! Why the jump in rank?”

  Werner waved his hand. “We need him in place as soon as possible. And since this one’s supposed to be a top-notch pilot already --”

  “Hot-shotting with a flitter planetside is entirely different than manning a veeby in space, sir.”

  He flapped a hand at her and pulled the keypad in front of him. “We need him and the others to fast-track. You know we’re low on veeby pilots lately.”

  She scowled.

  He glanced at her and grinned. “And you’ll be seeing to their training.”

  “I thought that might be coming.”

  He smiled. “You are a woman of incomparable wisdom, Fox.”

  She took a deep breath and picked up the datasheet again. An image of a handsome young man with pale skin, cropped blazing-orange hair, and glittering green eyes regarded her. Around it was the text explaining his background. She pressed a square in the bottom right of the datasheet, and the text switched to reports of some of his latest exploits. The picture switched to a full body shot with indications to mark that the man was a muscular six foot five. She skimmed through the data again and frowned. The volcanic ash incident was just one of the more colorf
ul. The Krystanni was a wild card.

  She glanced at the datasheets for the other ensigns. None of the others were quite as colorful in looks or in action. Or in ability. “I don’t think this is a good idea, sir.”

  He tapped away at the keypad, eyes glued to the monitor. “I think it’s an excellent idea. With you in charge of his training, nothing can possibly go wrong, correct?”

  She didn’t bother responding to the bait, just went back to reading over the young man’s record. At a mere twenty-two Earth standard years of age, he’d received his training to date from the Krystanni military, but he now sought an appointment in the Emirate. No doubt to get a shot at the veebys. Judging from his record, he’d mastered every Krystanni craft. She flipped back to the face shot and studied those laughing green eyes, seeing nothing but trouble.

  “Besides,” Werner continued, “we can use your history to its best advantage. Even hotshots like Drake Ange can respect a pilot with your record.”

  “Perhaps you’re right, sir.”

  He finished typing, then turned to open a humidor at the corner of his desk. The old cigar still sat in the ashtray, but apparently the butt was too low to smoke. “Of course I’m right,” he said with a smile, using a little device to clip the end of a cigar, the same way men had been doing for centuries. He didn’t bother to offer her one, knowing from experience that she’d decline. “And if anyone can make a top-notch Emirate pilot out of him, it’ll be you.”

  She set the datasheet back on the desk before her. “Your confidence in my abilities is overwhelming, sir.”

  “Nonsense. You haven’t let me down yet.”

  Beth recognized a losing battle when she was in one. Werner was usually good about listening to advice, but he’d obviously made up his mind. She drew herself up straight. A glance over his shoulder showed her a photo image of Werner with his arm around the former president of the Emirate. The man must know what he was doing since he was clearly still moving up the ranks. “Yes, sir. When do I acquire my new recruits?”

  “You have a few weeks. I’ll be accepting his application today, and he and seven other recruits will arrive as soon as all the preparations are made.”

  She nodded. After twelve weeks of basic training, they’d be transferred to Rainier. “Will I be working with Sergeant McCray again?”

  “If you like.”

  She nodded. “And the other trainers?”

  “Pick your team. I leave it to you.”

  “And will you tell the greenies who’ll be training them?”

  “No. I think that should be a surprise for when they get here.”

  She met his amused gaze with a small smile of her own. “You’re enjoying this, sir.”

  He laughed. “Look on it as a challenge, Fox. You’ve had precious few of those since you left active duty.”

  Chapter Two

  Someone sat beside him. Drake turned away from the portal and its view of the enormous Rainier Station to see the blonde. Dana. Cute and perky, with a dark natural tan that she’d surely been born with rather than acquired. She smiled at him with big, dark blue eyes and leaned on the small armrest/table that separated their seats. “Can I ask you a question?”

  He smiled. “Sure.”

  She kept her voice low, leaning in to be heard. “Are you a pirate?”

  Drake chuckled. He leaned toward her, bracing his forearm on the little ledge with hers. He let his voice drop into a low purr that he’d found women particularly liked. “Do I look like a pirate?”

  She giggled, studying his face intently. “Yeah. You kinda do.”

  He perused her face from beneath partially lowered lids. “To most people, all Krystanni look like pirates. Or pirates look like Krystanni.”

  She blinked slowly. “Why is that, anyway?”

  He twisted his hand and idly traced the back of hers with one finger. His natural skin color was much lighter than hers. The tone difference between his skin and that of non-Krystanni women always fascinated him. “History. Ever since first colonization, the people of Krystan got screwed. Our distance from other inhabitable planets meant that supplies didn’t always get to us, and sometimes when they did, the prices were exorbitant. So we got good at building ships and we got better at flying them.” He grinned at her. “Then we used them.”

  She cocked her head. “If the ships on Krystan are so hot, why leave?”

  “They’re not veebys.”

  “Ah.” She smiled, watching their hands. “How fascinating.”

  He suppressed a laugh. He wasn’t fooled by her wide-eyed innocence. He’d seen her fly during their week on Telyrud before boarding the shuttle for Rainier. No one who could handle a flitter like that could be vapid. But she was cute when she did it, so if it made her happy, he’d play along.

  She leaned closer, turning her hand palm up so she could gently catch hold of his fingers. “But you haven’t answered me. Are you a pirate?”

  He gathered her hand in his and lifted it to bestow a kiss in the middle of her palm. “Do you want me to be, beautiful?”

  She glanced around, prompting him to do the same. Their fellow newly commissioned ensigns were scattered around the cabin, not paying them any mind. Three were seated alone, reading off personal handhelds. Two more were watching the news at a panel toward the cabin’s aft. The last was stretched out across a few seats, sleeping.

  Dana regained his full attention when her fingers traced his jaw. Most of her vapid look melted into a gaze of pure hunger. “If you were a pirate, should I be afraid you’d ... plunder me?”

  “I don’t have to be a pirate for that, but if that’s what you want ...”

  She chuckled. “I’ve heard lots of things about Krystanni men.”

  “More than just the pirate thing, I take it?”

  “Oh, yes.” She glanced at his chest, taking in the breadth of his shoulders. “I’ve heard that Krystannis are just plain ... big. Everywhere.”

  “Am I your first Krystanni, beautiful?”

  “Yeah.”

  He brought up one hand so he could hold her pert little chin between thumb and forefinger. “I’d be happy to show you anything you want to see, baby.”

  He was debating whether to pull her into the kiss she seemed to so desperately want when an announcement came over the comm. “Ensigns strap in. Ready for docking on Rainier Station in fifteen minutes.”

  The other recruits roused themselves.

  Dana frowned at the ceiling.

  Drake thumbed her plump bottom lip, regaining her attention. “We’ll find some time to be alone together.”

  Dark blue eyes swam with curious lust. “That is an excellent idea.” Her little pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, gaining his attention.

  He kissed her, tasting those reddened lips briefly. He hated to let willing female lips go unattended.

  They pulled apart, and she stood with a sigh. He watched her shapely ass as she returned to her seat, thanking the deities of the stars that flightsuits were so form-fitting.

  Like the others, he spent the last few moments of the shuttle flight stowing the items he’d removed from the small duffel beneath his seat. He’d finally gotten off Krystan! True, most everyone back home was skeptical of his choice of the Emirate Elite instead of the Krystanni Star Forces as a goal, but no one begrudged him. To be honest, the Emirate wasn’t his dream; but flying was, and the Emirate Elite were the only ones who flew the top-of-the-line VBY flighters. Veebys outclassed any Krystanni craft, and that was saying a lot. Handling a veeby was his first real goal. The second was to escape from the Krystanni backwater and see the known galaxies.

  Shuttle docking was uneventful. A Sergeant McCray appeared in the doorway of the cabin, decked out in pristine blue coveralls with his bands of rank encircling his left arm. He instructed Drake and his seven fellow ensigns to follow him.

  They emerged into a gaping metallic chamber, the likes of which Drake had only seen in vids. He suppressed an awed smile as he glanced around w
hile they traveled a walkway between their shuttle and another. When they passed beyond the shuttles, however, he couldn’t contain what he knew must be a look of glee at seeing four shining VBY Emirate flighters a few berths down. The ships were a marvel. Large enough to support a crew of two, perhaps three, for at least a standard month, they were still sleek and fast. Their design was the pride of the Emirate. The veebys and the space stations they protected were a huge reason for the Emirate’s domination of the Denari galaxy. Drake’s hands twitched with the desire to just touch one of them.

  Unfortunately, the sergeant led them past the veebys and the crews crawling over and around them. Drake gave the gorgeous crafts one last glance as he was led out of the dock and into a narrow hallway. No, it wasn’t narrow, actually. It just seemed confined after the open space of the dock.

  They were led into a small meeting room where Sergeant McCray had them assemble. The short, slim man with a head of prematurely gray hair eyed them, then started down a list of primary rules and regulations for their stay. Drake had heard or read much of it already during basic. Life on the station wouldn’t be much different, at least to start. This was the part of military life that he was not so much looking forward to. But he’d do anything for a chance to regularly fly veebys.

  Gaze fixed on the sergeant at the head of the room, Drake saw out of the corner of his eye a new person arrive through a side door. He glanced over to see a beautiful, dark-skinned woman with short black hair stride toward McCray. Lieutenant bands marked the arm of her casual blue coveralls. Drake frowned slightly. She looked familiar.

  The sergeant looked up from the datasheet he was reading, saw her, and snapped to attention himself. “Recruits, rise. Meet the officer in charge of your training, Lieutenant Elizabeth Holliday!”

  Drake shot to his feet, as did his fellow recruits, saluting automatically. Inside, his heart and belly flipped over each other. Elizabeth Holliday? No wonder she looked familiar. He’d read all there was to read about her. The famous Fox was in charge of their training?!