Space station of the sluts

Shaylan closed his mouth; cleared his throat. He even managed a crooked smile at his own error. “Ah,” he said. “Well then. I’ll just bunk on my ship, shall I? And, ah…feel free to call me Lavern.”

He bowed his way out, a rather formal gesture for a corporate tech. Megan tried not to giggle too hard. Had they really not warned him? When he hadn’t asked about the sickbay filled entirely with women, she’d assumed he’d known. Most people who came by Saturn VI did; it wasn’t exactly on any trade routes anymore. Either you’d known about it for generations or you passed it by.

Oh well. At least she’d gotten something out of the miserable day. Lavern Shaylan’s work in the hydro labs would tell whether she’d get any more out of it…

~

Independent stations were free of the odd hierarchies that ruled both corporate and military installations. Corporates and soldiers tended to see that as a weakness; Megan viewed it as entirely to their advantage.

Particularly at times like these, when Medical Officer Zanthia Brownlee — a woman with whom she would definitely have been forbidden to “fraternize” in a more structured environment — had her head buried neatly between Megan’s thighs, and was doing creative things with her tongue.