Free Phoenix Rising (Dragon Legacy) by Previn Hudetz Page B

flight chairs and went about the business of mapping their warp vector. Quinn had to admit he was impressed with their skill. They had old gear, almost obsolete, and did much of the work manually. Small operation, apparently. Still, it spoke volumes to their competence. At least as pilots, if not as smugglers.
    They snapped into the warp and the spectral storm surrounded their ship. Quinn was used to it from doing so many jumps, but it still set his teeth on edge knowing that if the ship's warp-signal-cancellation probe didn't work perfectly, they'd all end up stuck in this limbo forever. Few things made him nervous, but this was one of them. Give him a dragon fight instead of this eternal lightning storm any day, he thought.
    The flight was short. It only lasted a few minutes, and then the probe was out. An instant later, they were in solid space again. Quinn could see the station looming ahead of them as they began coming in to dock. He smiled, remembering his last time at Kirlian's Rest. Right before a dragon campaign that took him all the way out to the icy heights of Cristos. That'd been the most epic battle of his life, even received news coverage on the intelliNet.
    There'd been a beautiful woman he'd met here at one of the station pubs. The Wasted Wagoneer, if he remembered correctly. They'd been stationed at Kirlian's Rest for the month prior to the engagement, and he thought that sounded about right. At any rate, that girl had done a phenomenal job of sending him off in style; the best inspiration to fight for king and country Quinn had ever received. Maybe he could check in on her if she was still here. It'd been a long time, but he hoped he'd see her.
    “We'll be docking soon,” the captain said, interrupting Quinn's thoughts. “I can't stay long, but I've arranged for you to enter the station with my men when they go on liberty. They'll pretend you're with them, and they understand the situation well enough not to do anything stupid.”
    “Here's hoping,” Quinn said and blinked at the door panel he'd busted earlier. “Hey, you got a mechanic?” The captain looked over, confused. Then he saw the problem.
    “Oh, that,” he groaned. He looked at his son. “And this, Risar...this...this is why we never work blind.” The younger man's cheeks flushed, apparently embarrassed about having the situation rubbed in his face, and muttered something about risks being necessary before burying himself in the console.
    Quinn just laughed and waited for the mechanic to fix the door. Didn't take long, and soon he was walking into port, well hidden among a sea of people.
    The lights and sounds assaulted his ears from every direction, Quinn noticed with satisfaction. This atmosphere reminded him of the rough streets he grew up on, and he let his feet carry him through the noisy vendors down the main boulevard. He looked up through the transparent skydome at the stars, the corner of the orange gas planet just barely visible.
    “Hey, mister, wanna buy some time in a pleasure-suite? Can't hardly tell the difference from the real thing!” Quinn waved the slimy pitchman off and kept on toward where he remembered the pub had been.
    It was coming back to him now, and he hoped he'd run into that woman again. What was her name? He'd been unable to forget it for five years. Why couldn't he remember it now? Quinn huffed in frustration, startling some children next to him who ran off. He chuckled and turned down a side street that looked familiar. There it was! People were coming and going. Still busy. Good. Maybe that meant she'd be down here after all. At least there was a chance.
    As he walked into the pub, memories came rushing back, eliciting a smile as he bellied up to the bar. Then Quinn heard a voice that caused his heart to skip a beat.
    “Well, kark me three ways from Sunday,” a sharp alto spat from behind him. “I'll shave my head if that isn't Mr. Quinn Deston himself. I'd recognize those shoulders anywhere, even if