Editing Story:ROAD TRIP! (Warhammer High)/Part One (section)

===Healthy Competition===

The group arrived back on the deck where they had been before and wandered back into the O-Club.  “Who’s up for a nightcap?” Freya asked, breezing through the hatch into the club.

“I’m in,” Alex said.  “Something fortifying.”  Freya smiled.

Kines was still behind the bar, deftly handing bottles and glasses out to officers crowding around him.  The crowd parted before them though, and somehow all five managed to find seats.  “Hello, Lieutenant,” Freya said cheerfully.

“Hello, Lady Russ,” Kines said.  “What can I get for you?”

“A glass of ice water, a glass of orange juice, an empty glass, and directions to the nearest dartboard,” she said cheerfully.  Remilia and Venus exchanged exasperated looks.  “I have bets to harvest.”

Kines stared, as did several of the officers around them.  “Uh.  All right…” he said, slowly filling the order.  “There’re a few dartboards in this lounge…over on the far wall,” he said, pointing.

“Superb.  I’ll be back a few hundred credits richer,” she proclaimed, taking her glasses and departing.

“You have no idea what you’ve unleashed, my friend,” Remilia said gravely.  “Never get between Freya and anything she can turn into a competition.”

“I don’t plan to,” Kines said, back to business.  “Anything I can get you, my Lady?”

“Just a soda, I think,” Remilia said.  “We have to accommodate the young folk,” she said, waving cheerfully at Jake, the only sixteen-year-old in the room.

“Har har,” Jake grumbled.

Venus tapped a finger on her chin, looking over the selection.  “Just an orange too, I think.  Then I’m going to watch Freya put seasoned fighter pilots to shame.”

“I need to see this,” Jake said, standing and following his girlfriend across the room.

Freya was holding court, balancing the two full glasses in her hands with the empty one on a vacant stool near a dartboard.  A few officers, their expressions balanced between astonished and cautious, watched from the sidelines.  “Well?” Freya asked.  One fighter pilot stepped forward, dropping a ten-credit coin in the empty cup.

“Sure, I’ll step up,” he said.  He grabbed the blue darts and put them on the stool next to the empty cup, hefting the red ones for himself.

“Attaboy,” Freya said, grinning broadly.  She downed the orange juice in one gulp, then dropped a coin of her own in the cup, setting the empty cup down beside it.  She scooped up the blue darts and waited, eyes narrowed.

Jake crossed his arms and watched, as the pilot took a few practice swings, then unloaded the darts into the board.  His aim was above fair, and most struck near the center.  Freya nodded slowly, then stepped back.  “All right, who’s next?” she asked.

“What?  You’re not going, Lady Freya?” the pilot asked.

“Oh, I am, but I go last.  Keeps the blood out of the water until the last moment,” she said slyly.  “I’ll match any bet you care to place.”

“Oh, words,” the pilot said, though he looked like he wanted to say much more.  Several other officers stepped up to try their luck with the red darts, and a few managed to do even better than the first once had.  Freya matched each bet, until the empty glass was full of credit chips, coins, candy, and other tokens of wagers.  Finally, it was full, and she stepped up to the line as well.  She downed the ice water, which had been perspiring in her hand the whole time, and turned to face the board in profile, rolling the darts around in her free hand.

She sighted down one dart and let it go, slamming it into the board just above the center bullseye.  “Got you,” she said happily, picking up another dart.

“Got what?” Jake asked.

“The range,” she said cheerfully, and her wrist blurred.  The other darts slammed into the board like homing missiles, knocking other darts loose and filling the center of the board entirely.

The crowd went silent.  Freya made a show of breathing on her nails and wiping them off on her shoulder, as if it were not even a thing.  “All too easy.  Good game, gentlemen,” she said, picking up the cup and making to walk off.

“Ah ah ah, just a moment, madam,” a voice said from the crowd.  All eyes turned to a grizzled-looking Warrant Officer, who had been watching the spectacle since it began.  “Put that cup down, if you please.”

“Something wrong, Chief?” Freya asked, a hint of a canine growl in her voice, just…just barely loud enough to hear.

The Warrant glared at the darts on the floor.  “One more,” he said.  “Horse.”

“Hm.  Pair of balls on you, Chief,” Freya said appraisingly.  The crowd rumbled, apparently sensing blood.

“Put your money where your confidence is, my Lady, and I will too,” the Warrant said, pulling a blank card from his pocket and swiping it through his reader.  He tapped a number in, dropping it on the stool where the cup had been.  Freya picked it up and swiped it herself.

Her red eyebrows went up when she saw the number.  “Oooh, a risk-taker.  I do so approve,” she said, her voice low and thoughtful.  She looked up with a calculating gleam in her eye, staring down the challenger.  His eyes stayed level, unassuming.  She grinned suddenly, displaying her fangs.  “You’re on.”

“Good,” he said, grabbing the darts from the board and scooping up the ones from the floor.  The crowd took a few hasty steps back.  Freya and the Warrant lined up, both turning to face the board in profile.  “Whenever you’re ready,” he said.

Freya grinned tightly.  “Thanks,” she said quietly, and threw the first dart.  It thudded into the very center of the inner bullseye, and the Warrant nodded.

“Sure.”  He threw his own, and it knocked Freya’s loose.

Freya nodded, impressed.  “Cool.  Try this.”  She hauled off, sending one deliberately into the very highest point of the board.

The Warrant tossed his own dart, neatly knocking Freya’s out again.  “Like this?”

Freya’s eyes narrowed as the crowed oohed and aahed.  “Hmm.  Hey, this is horse, not score attack, right?”

“That’s right, yeah,” the Warrant said, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“Nifty,” she said, and changed her stance, now facing the board with her left hand.  “Try to keep up.”  She threw another dart, and it landed dead center of the board.

“Oh, and subterfuge is employed,” the Warrant groused.  He turned as well and threw, but the dart clattered off the wall next to the board.  The crowd broke out in applause and catcalls, with several dejected officers reluctantly passing their jubilant neighbors coins and cards of their own.

Freya preened, sliding the Warrant’s card into the cup and sticking her hand out.  “Good game, Chief,” she said happily.

He sighed, taking her hand.  “Good game.  I should have specified stance rules.”

“Should have, but you didn’t,” she noted, picking up the remaining darts on the stool and *thunking* them into the board, one by one.  “See you next time.”  She bounced over to where Jake and Alex were standing in awe.  “Kiss,” she instructed leaning out and fluttering her lashes.

Alex pecked her on the check and gathered the empty drink glasses.  “Nice job, baby.”

“Was there every any doubt?  I mean really?” she asked, walking back to the bar, lucre in hand.

“Not for a moment,” Alex said.

Jake shook his head, squeezing Venus’ hand when he returned to his seat.  “I dunno, I think that Warrant might be back for blood tomorrow.”

“Let him come, I can’t be beat at darts,” Freya said proudly.

“Mission accomplished, madam?” Kines asked, rubbing a glass clean.

“Aye aye,” Freya said, placing the cup on the counter.

Kines stared.  “Say, that’s impressive,” he said.  “I doubt you’ll find so many willing volunteers tomorrow night.”

“You said yourself that there’s other lounges aboard,” she reminded him.

“Well…the staff officers’ lounge and the enlisted lounge, sure,” Kines said.

Freya offered up a feral grin, her eyes glinting in the shifting light of the bar.  “Problem solved.”

Alex downed his tonic, washing the bitter taste down with another sip of water.  “I think it might be time to turn in, actually,” he said.

Remilia nodded, finishing her own drink.  “I think so,” she said reluctantly.  She glanced meaningfully over at Venus, who caught the hint and nodded invisibly.  Freya, beyond her, did as well, and Remilia stood up.  “Well.  Thanks for the drink, Lieutenant.  I’ll see you all tomorrow,” she said.

“My pleasure, my Lady,” Kines said warmly, waving the group farewell as they packed up to go.  Haarlan, who had sat there fielding questions and being glared at by the pilots the entire time, stood up to guide them back to their rooms.

As they exited the lounge and the ambient noise died down, Freya suddenly stopped dead.  “Fuck, hang on,” she said, turning back and making for the bar.  She jogged across the room, reaching the bar again, looking around for her cup of winnings.

“Ma’am?” Kines asked, pausing.

“The cup.  Where did it…ah,” she said, snatching up the money and other prizes.  “Almost forgot.”

“Can’t have that,” Kines observed.  “Want a bag?”

“Ha!  Why not,” Freya said, dumping her gains into the plastic bag Kines offered.  She paused before turning away.  “Actually…I was wondering.  Do you know where I can get an internal deck map?”

“Well, I’m sure Haarlan has one,” Kines said.

“I mean one of my own,” Freya said.

Kines blinked.  “Well…no, madam, the vessel’s layout isn’t exactly written down somewhere a boarder could find it,” he said.

“Oh.”  Freya cocked her head.  “Then…how do new crew get used to the ship’s layout?”

“Extensive training on simulators, and color-coded lines on the decks and bulkheads, ma’am, correlated to the rooms along the corridors,” Kines said.  “What are you trying to find?”

“The gym, if there is one,” Freya said.

Kines brightened.  “Ah.  Deck fifty nine, corridor two.  The color code is Green for quarters and recreation.  Blue is batteries, Red is command, Yellow is engines and maneuvering.  There’s also wall maps in places.”

“Great, thanks,” Freya said, grabbing the bag.  “See you tomorrow?”

“Sure, I’ll be here.  Sleep well, my Lady,” Kines said, resuming his scrubbing.

Freya rejoined the others, bag in hand.  “Can’t leave without my bankroll!” she announced.

“Hah!  Hey, can I get some of that?  I promised Dad a souvenir,” Jake joked.

“Challenge me tomorrow, and maybe you’ll get some,” Freya said, getting into the lift.  Haarlan keyed the deck for their quarters, and they were off.  Upon arrival, the group moved to the end of the corridor, and found their rooms had been tidied up in their absence.

“All right, then.  My Lords, Ladies, I will see you on the morrow,” Haarlan said.  “Breakfast is served from 0600 to 0700, in the Captain’s Hall.”

“Are the enlisted and officers’ messes open other times?” Venus asked, pausing on the threshold of her room.

“I believe so, madam, if you would prefer a later time,” Haarlan said hesitantly.

“Not later, earlier,” Venus said.  “I get up much earlier.  But hey, that’s all right,” Venus said, noting his expression and misinterpreting it.  “I’ll just go to one of the other ones.  Good night,” she said, closing her hatch.

“See you all tomorrow,” Remilia said, moving to start her own bathroom rituals.

Freya dropped her bag in the chair by the hatch, heading for the bathroom.  “Wow, look at you,” Alex said, pawing through its contents.  “There’s gotta be six, seven hundred credits in here.”

“That last bet is a good half of it.  I almost feel bad, exerting my absolute dominance over that guy like that,” Freya said casually from the bathroom, before the closing hatch cut her off.

Alex snorted, dropping the bag and surveying the room.  It was nicely appointed; it must have served as a VIP room frequently before.

Venus’ room was identical.  She finished up in the bathroom and Jake took her place, as she pulled a sleeping shirt on.  When Jake was done, he snapped his fingers once and the lights died completely.  He made his way over to the bed and slid in, snuggling up next to Venus under the covers.  She rested her head on his shoulder, accepting a little kiss on the forehead with a contented sigh.  “Day one,” she said.

“Heh.  Yeah.”  Jake squeezed his arm around her shoulders, grinning.  “Man.  Nocturne.  I can not wait!” he said, nearly giddy.

“I’m happy you’re so excited.  I doubt there’ll be much ceremony after the first few days,” she said, closing her eyes so his world wasn’t bright red.
“Which is fine for me, as you know.  Are you looking forward to it?” he asked her.

“I am.  A few of the ceremonies are just formalities, some are more meaningful.”  She thought it over.  “Hmm…I guess you can’t actually attend some of them.  They’re specific to blood relatives of Dad, and Legionnaires.”

“Oh.  Well…all right.  I’ll just chill out somewhere.  If such a thing is possible on Nocturne,” he joked.  She chuckled softly.

“So…I hope you weren’t offended by Roemer’s little Q&A session about your origin story,” she said.

“Nah.  I surprise people.  I like that,” Jake said.  Venus laughed, bringing a smile to Jake’s lips.  She hugged him across the chest as she lay on her side, and he tugged his arm free to squeeze her hand.  “You don’t think it will happen on Nocturne itself, do you?” he asked.

“Not even once.  Believe me, compared to the way so many Nocturneans live, Terran upper hivers live like royalty anyway,” Venus said quietly.  “Now…I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”

Jake squeezed her hand again, then rolled onto his side, facing his back to her, as they had found it was the most comfortable position for someone who lacked her heat tolerance.  She lay flat on her back, eyes still shut, and rested, letting the faintest sound of his heartbeat – which her augmented ears could pick up even over the ambient Warp drive noise – lull her to sleep.

Remilia slid her earplugs in and turned the light on, burying herself in her magazine and thinking over the events of the day.  The dinner had been enlightening, for sure.  She had never met a ship where psykers of lower rank than the Navigator themself was welcome at the Captain’s table.  And the complete lack of tension between Roemer and Haarlan could either be good or very bad.  A political officer and Captain who got along that well were either trusted comrades – which Kines had hinted wasn’t the case – or toadies.

She sighed in frustration, turning the light off and tossing the holomag onto the table.  Either way, it meant an interesting trip, she supposed.

Alex finished up in the bathroom, and emerged to find that the room was already pitch dark.  He grinned triumphantly, and quickly doused the lights in the bathroom too, stripping his clothes off and waiting.

Silence.  He paused, listening carefully, but she was completely quiet.  He stepped forward, wondering if she was even playing their game.  Then, the faintest noise, someone shifting their balance on the carpeted deck, caught his ear, directly in front of him.

He nodded.  His heart rate spiked.  He felt himself harden up as he walked quietly, adrenaline running through his limbs.  He moved as silently as he could, not even trying to hide from her senses, but still playing the role.  Finally, he paused, a few inches from where he had heard her, and raised his arms slightly.

He heard the sound from behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder.  Darkness.  Then…suddenly, it was in front of him again, and he felt her hair brush against his outstretched hands.  He moved his hands together, and felt the solid racks of muscle along her flanks.  She slid into his arms, pressing her entire back against his front, and clasping her hands over his.  “Have you ever had sex in the Warp?” he asked, his voice rough and throaty.  “Because…my god, you’re about to.”

“Not yet,” she whispered softly.  “Show me how.”

And he did.


Freya cradled the cup of water she’d brought from the bathroom in her hands, listening to Alex slow down.  More than just coming down from the peak, he was relaxing.  She hadn’t told him what it sounded like, or that she listened, but she did.  She let her super-human senses tell her a story.
His heart was slowing a little, his pulse was quieting.  As it did, the tiny movements in his skin from pulsing blood grew less distinct.  His skin lightened as his circulation slowed, and his bare chest settled as he took shallower breaths.  She waved the light down and watched as his eyelids relaxed.  As the adrenaline in his body faded away, the melatonin of late night and endorphins of the afterglow seeped through him, relaxing his muscles and tendons.

She took a sip from her cup, listening.  The sound of his breath and heartbeat both slowed, growing more sluggish, as he drifted off to sleep.  The muscles in his tongue and jaw tightened, just a tiny bit.  She smiled, looking down at his body on the mattress next to her.  He was familiar.
She had asked her father once if actual wolves had senses that refined.  He had said no; that she and his battle-brothers were even better, and special.  They were more than their namesake, and more than human.  Freya didn’t know if that was true or not, and probably never would.  But she enjoyed them for what they were.

Freya wasn’t a psyker.  She couldn’t sense the instant his mind was freed from activity and released into dreams.  But she could smell his pheromones, and she could hear his heartbeat as clear as a bell.  And when he fell asleep, she smiled to herself again.  “I love you,” she whispered, so quietly that even she could barely hear it.  He didn’t stir.

Freya drank the rest of the water and cleaned herself off with a handful of tissue.  She tossed it in the trash and slipped silently under the covers, pushing her braids out from under her head.  Even with the lights off, and the room almost absolutely dark, she could see, just a little.  When she played their game, she couldn’t actually see him all that well, in the darkness of a ship cabin; the way she found him was the way she eluded him.  She used her hearing, which didn’t need a medium more complex than atmosphere, and even if he was still she could hear him perfectly.  When he walked into the room blind, she could catch him.  She’d never hurt him, of course.  She had vastly more control than that.  But she had inherited more than her namesake’s senses and competitive attitude.  She was playful, and the thrill of eluding him and letting him catch her – or not – felt better than nearly anything they did afterwards.

She turned her head slightly, and watched his chest expand and contract as he breathed.  She could hear the rush of air, and even smell the air he exhaled.  She watched his skin darken as his heart pushed blood through him, and lighten as he pulled it back through his veins.  The ventilation system of the room pulled the smell of their mating away, replacing it with the flat, sterile air of the ship, and his head tilted towards the air vent slightly.

Freya closed her eyes, and listened to Alex sleep.  “Thanks for playing,” she whispered.  “Good night, Alex.”