Mercenaries Read Free Page B

Sinner’s Post afterward. But if she married good ol’ Andy, she knew the chances were very good he’d eventually beat her to death.
    Trin had a strong suspicion that if he did kill her, all the men in town would just shake their heads and say, “Well, she never did know her place.” Hell, they’d probably put it on her headstone.
    The mercs were the only chance she had of avoiding that auction. She had to get them to take her with them. One way or another.
    Taking a deep breath, Trin turned and surveyed the bar’s dark interior. She’d never been inside, since it was strictly for infidels. The elders only allowed it to exist at all because they didn’t want rowdy foreigners starting brawls in local restaurants. Trin was courting a week in a prayer cell just by stepping through the door.
    â€œOh, fuck me!” a female voice purred.
    Startled, Trin’s gaze shot to the central trid globe hovering over the bar. To her astonishment, it depicted a huge ruddy shaft sliding slowly between a woman’s glistening vaginal lips.
    They were showing a pornographic trid. Right there in the bar.
    Did the elders know?
    Trin stared at the image in scandalized fascination. She’d lost her virginity in a furtive encounter with another teenager five years before, but it had been so painful and they’d come so close to getting caught, she hadn’t dared try again. The penalty for fornication was thirty lashes at the Sinner’s Post and five years in a prayer cell, and it hadn’t seemed worth it. Not for so little pleasure.
    But Maker’s Beard, she didn’t remember Jimmy’s cock being that big. . . .
    Focus, Trin, she told herself sternly, dragging her eyes away from the globe. You’re not here for the porn.
    â€œOhhhh!” the actress moaned. “Deeeperrrr!”
    Trin’s cheeks flamed. Slinking to the bar, she edged her hip onto the nearest stool, trying to keep her eyes averted from the amazing things the handsome, very naked man was doing to his partner.
    â€œMay I take your order?” the bar asked as a trid menu appeared before her eyes. Like the other businesses in the OQ, the tavern was automated. It got too few customers to maintain a human staff.
    Trin blinked at the selection. It had been ten years since she’d been in a place like this. She hoped she remembered how to order.
    Too, she’d never had alcohol in her life. Orville taught that drinking spirits was sinful, so nobody in Rectitude served liquor. On the other hand, she didn’t want to look like a prig to the captain, so . . .
    â€œI’ll have a Star Mead, please,” Trin decided finally, managing a matter-of-fact tone as she placed her palm on the bar’s surface. A blue light flashed around her hand, signaling that the computer had recorded her palm print and would debit her account. She thought she had enough credchits to cover it. Barely.
    An opening appeared in the bar’s surface, and a curving bottle thrust upward, filled with something blue and faintly phosphorescent. Trin accepted it and took a wary sip. The cold, bitter liquid bit into her tongue and burned its way down her esophagus. Gamely she forced herself to swallow another foaming mouthful, hoping she wouldn’t get drunk on one bottle. She needed her wits about her.
    â€œOh, God, your cunt is so tight and wet !”
    Trin shot a glance at the trid. Jimmy definitely hadn’t been that big. Or flexible. Or imaginative.
    As she swallowed and looked away, she saw the mercenaries. Two of them, both male, sat at a small table rimmed in glowtubes that cast the only illumination in the room. One was a big, handsome blond, the other equally big, but dark-haired. They were the only other patrons in the tavern. She hoped one of them was Captain August.
    Eyeing the pair cautiously, Trin tried to decide on her approach. A small forest of bottles stood on the table between them; they must be well