The techno-beats and flashing neon ceiling lights of the dimly lit underground three storey club below The Durgema moved in rhythm with the slender dancing bodies of the skimpily clad female Durgians.
After meeting me at the suite, Mahara left me waiting in the corridor overlooking the first level to check something with the staff at the end. I leaned on the railings and watched the rowdy, crowded scene out of boredom.
My optical implants swept through the first level for energy signatures. Things popping up in green are listening or spy bugs, but the red ones are weapons and the first floor resembled like a sea of red blooming algae mixed with green amidst the bodies.
The female Durgians gyrated against their excited 'clientele' in the middle of the first floor, surrounded by occupied lounge tables and seats, separated into waist level booths.
Those female Durgians are salaried baits paid to lure the male Perunians, Velesian, Thorians, Haoleans and other galactic species from their lounge seats into the large drinks bar to the left of the club.
Then again, that's not really a drinks bar with that red glow behind the drink display cabinet. More like a cache of weapons.
Nothing unusual, but they should have constructed the cabinet backing with astronium or plumbum metal to limit prying eyes with scanners or sensors.
It was as though the Durgians didn't care.
Or they hid their defences elsewhere because I noticed some spots where my optical implants turned up blank with no colour.
Nothing.
Every Durgian club on any planet traded illicit drugs, weapons and even slaves, provided you know the secret codes to order.
Not anyone can hop to the bar and ask for a Saterian grenade with explosive wide-range fission capability.
With illicit items came undercover operatives from all the consortiums or even the mega corporations.
Hardly any female customers occupied those booths, except for the Hamazans.
A rule of the mercenaries was, never approach a group of females with no males, if you don't have business with them - that was what I knew of the Hamazans. The female Durgian attendants kept away from the Hamazans unless called.
Hamazans are strictly matriarchal in their society. Their form fitting jumpsuits didn't hide their athletic, slim physique compared to a company of fat Haolean businessmen groping a young Durgian female, running their hands all over in the next booth.
I imagined if they tried doing it to a Hamazan. One Hamazan could level the first level of the club.
No smart species tried to do anything funny to Hamazans because they, like the Thorians in close quarter fights, fought like a crazed maniac on some illicit stimulant.
Too bad, both species are not related.
I hardly went to Durgian clubs, but most mercenaries knew the Durgians reserved those exorbitantly priced rooms at the second level of their clubs for high-ranking politicians or criminal figures.
Instead of booths like those on the first level, the private rooms exist with a choice of an opaque or transparent forcefield lined the open corridor overlooking the first level.
From my peripheral vision, I spotted a group of five Perunians walking towards me from the stairway. All dressed in the dark leather style which reminded me of space pirates.
Those five armed themselves to the teeth. My optical implants in my eye detected the glowing red shape of few hidden guns near their shoulder and thigh holsters below those long black leather coats.
One of the Perunians had especially long hair tied up in a pony tail. The rest all had short hair, but the one with the pony tail looked far younger than the scarred faces around. Yet, they surrounded him like he was the more important person.
Yup. Space pirates based on the faint hint of tattoos on the edge of their necks.
"Yo brother, alone?" One spoke.
I pretended not to hear his remark as the group went past. Not sure if he was addressing me or the others in the group.
The corridor had enough space for five to pass through, with no need for me to move away. No one created trouble openly in a Durgian club.
"Not friendly, are you?" A body leaned on the railing near me.
I side eyed him. He is the Perunian with the ponytail and I noticed his hand gestures at the rest, who backed away by moving further down the corridor.
"Did you speak to me?" I asked, feigning innocence.
"My associate asked a question, but it seems like you ignored him," he stood up straight.
Damn Perunians. How did some of them get that tall?
I pointed at the blaring speakers. "Too loud."
"Ah. Are you here alone?"
"Waiting for someone."
"A pretty doll?" He tilted his head at the Durgian females below. "If she ain't turning up, we can get you another."
"What are you here for, then?"
"Fun with the boys and maybe make a new Deridian friend." he winked at me. "What say you?"
New friend, my ass. Still had to keep my composure when I looked behind and saw Mahara approaching them.
I forced a smile and replied, "that someone is behind."
Before the Perunian could turn back to look, "ZHIVA, what are you doing here, my dear? Where's his excellency General Perkuna?
"Ah Fuck. Mahara," he muttered as he rolled his eyes, bothered by her appearance.
Ah, fuck. Perkuna Zhiva. Last person I wanted to meet. He looked baby faced, too young to be mingled up with space pirates.
"Making friends, Mahara."
He sounded like a petulant little boy explaining to an elder.
"Yeah, I got business with this Deridian." Mahara sidled up to me, separating me from Zhiva.
"You don't need more jewellery. How many spaceships can I buy with those around your neck?" Zhiva glanced at the shiny thick necklaces draped around Mahara's neck and back at her face.
I stifled a laugh at his words. He wasn't wrong.
He tilted his head, noticing how she wrapped her arm around me. "Or is this one your new toy?"
"Now. Now."
Zhiva leaned towards Mahara as my cochlear implant cleared the background noises to amplify his words. "Good taste. I would do him even if he isn't female. Never knew Deridians could come up with a looker."
My smile melted away at his scumbag remark. He patted my cheeks while I gritted my teeth from Mahara's tightening grip, which served as a warning not to react.
"Alright boys, let's go have some fun with YOUNGER females," Zhiva left Mahara and me to rejoin his group.
Ouch. That burned. Mahara's face transformed her smile into a scowl the moment he turned his back.
"I swear that kid needs a good spanking. Good looking as he is - that one is trouble. Best not to get close to him."
Who the heck wanted to get close to Zhiva? Did she actually think I would be interested in a youngling like him?
They bred me to kill, not to fall in love. Those who created me in the birth pods fiddled with my genes and even my brain to reduce the primal need to breed.
"He fits you as your toy," I replied to her as she pinched me out of frustration.
Pointless, since my pain tolerance threshold is high. I didn't flinch, much to her disappointment.
I could picture Mahara as a doting old granny pampering Zhiva, like a toy doll.
"Shut up and follow me," she snarled at me. "The entry to our information nucleus is here."