Obsolete (Terran Times Second Wave Book 24) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  A talent for salvage leads her to the end of the universe where a sleeping alien has been waiting to make her his own.

  Olena enjoys taking things apart and repurposing them. She enters the Volunteer Program, and after some coaxing, she agrees to leave to find her fortune in the stars. The fortune she gets is a grimy salvage station where family ties keep her from rising to the top, and her life is a series of endless grey days until she takes apart a chunk of debris that turns out to be a life pod.

  Brin Tai Wekk has been waiting for a compatible female to share the burden of the mind of a planet. When the woman who slams the lid of his capsule on his hand wakes him, he knows he has found someone capable of sharing more than her instinct for survival.

  A discarded career, a stolen mate and a talent for turning the obsolete into something useful track Olena to a new world with a new start.

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  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Obsolete

  Copyright © 2015 Viola Grace

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-0342-3

  Cover art by Martine Jardin

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

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  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  Obsolete

  Terran Times Second Wave

  By

  Viola Grace

  Chapter One

  Olena Jackobi put the last few touches on the whirligig that she was completing for a client.

  “I know they are inviting me. I don’t want to go.” Olena released the strut and watched the creation spring to life at the touch of the wind.

  She cocked her head and saw the delicately balanced pieces swing and swirl in all directions in a dance that took the blades perilously close to one another without touching.

  Her boss sighed. “Then, why did you apply?”

  Olena shrugged and set the gears to slow the rotation. It had to be locked down for delivery. The wind machine had been crafted from found objects that had been sliced into the perfect size and shape.

  Margaret persisted. “Why did you apply?”

  Olena scowled and looked at her the moment she finished prepping the device for delivery. “I applied because I wanted to play with their toys, to see if alien technology was different from ours. They just gave me normal, boring human technology to play with.”

  Margaret sighed. “Then, you must tell them that you are not returning.”

  Olena looked at her as she wiped her hands on her work apron. “I will.”

  “You should do it soon. No sense in dragging these things out.”

  “I said I would do it. Quit bugging me.”

  Margaret smiled knowingly and walked away.

  Two weeks later, Olena stared out the viewing window on the lunar base and muttered, “How could she do that?”

  Her instructor cleared his throat. “Who are you speaking of?”

  “My previous employer. Margaret. She knew I was going to end up here, she just had to goad me into it.”

  “I am sure that it was a master manipulation. Now, tell me what the parts can be used for.”

  She turned and looked at the workbench. The shattered remains of nine weapons and what appeared to be a toaster were in front of her.

  With deliberate motions, she stripped the usable parts from the irreparable. Her instructor nodded, but she kept going, splicing the irreparable into useful connections over and over until the pile of recovered pieces was nearly as large as the factory salvage.

  Heilos blinked in surprise. “You have done more than I expected. I would not have thought to combine those wires into a usable connection.”

  “They are the same metal and will conduct power neatly. The effect of cold and hot will be easily executed through those coils as well; they just need to be nested instead of singular.”

  Heilos looked at the coils. “Ingenious. Two completely different species developed that tech, and you made it work together. Continue to assemble it. I want to see what you create out of these obsolete parts.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. Go to it.”

  Olena turned her gaze to the pieces on the table, and her hands moved automatically. She made connections, soldered them in place and tested the power throughput as she went. The tabletop environmental controller was without a housing, but it worked well when she finished.

  Heilos blinked. “Well, this is disappointing.”

  She was fiddling with the coils and glanced at him. “What is?”

  “I had hoped to spend a few weeks training you, but it seems you are ready to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “The moment that you were contracted, there was a position for you at a salvage station. Once I give my report on your competence, you will be on your way.”

  Olena sighed. “They are just going to put me where they want me.”

  “Yes. Get used to it. For the next three years, you are at their beck and call.”

  She flicked a glance at Heilos. “You disapprove?”

  “It seems unreasonable to surrender yourself to the control of another species. My kind would never allow it.”

  He had leopard-like spots on his skin that were not marks on fur. His body was a random collection of pigments, most of which were concealed by his suit.

  She glanced down at her own slightly baggy work suit and shrugged. “I am here to work. I don’t care where I do it.”

  “Good. Salvage stations are not known for their amenities.”

  Olena shrugged again. “Good. I can make my own.”

  He raised his brows and chuckled. “I am guessing you can. Very well, I will process the report today. You have gained your languages and are physically fit for the journey. No time to waste.”

  “Just like that?”

  He cocked his head. “Did you wish it to take longer?”

  She shrugged. “No, I just thought that it would take months, not weeks and days.”

  Heilos chuckled and patted her shoulder. “Accept it. You have a talent for this. I wish you success in your future, but I feel that the wish is unnecessary. You are a woman who will make things happen.”

  Olena nodded. “I will try.”

  “Good. I will send the report and get your transport arranged. You will be leaving within the week. Be ready for it.”

  “Are you just trying to get rid of me?”

>   He grinned and showed off his fangs. “I would love to watch you in action, but it isn’t necessary. I can see what you can do; I want you to show it to others. This is a skill that should be shared.”

  “At a salvage yard?”

  Heilos chuckled. “A salvage station. You will be taking apart chunks of ancient star ships and seeing what you can make useful again.”

  Her imagination suddenly swirled. “Right. That does sound like fun.”

  “Then, clean up your workspace while I prepare the report. I will see you for dinner in the commissary.”

  She nodded and set about filing and storing her creations. When she was done, she scrubbed her hands and headed for her room to put on a fresh suit. She despised being grimy.

  Life was spinning beyond her control, and she was holding on for her own survival. When she offered to join the Volunteers, she had imagined a lot more training and a lot less practical application of her talent.

  Meeting new species was her favourite part of the lunar base, but with everyone on different career paths, the Terrans needed to apply their social skills to anyone who wasn’t from their home world. They were going to have to get used to alien races as soon as they could. With some leaving and more arriving every day, it was hard to make friends and keep them.

  Her instructor was her constant. Master Heilos Twimath was a male from a blended family. He was married with three children, and his skills in mechanical engineering made him an ideal instructor for the finer points of identifying the pieces she was going to be taking apart. Explaining alien tech was his speciality.

  Olena put on her clean outfit, hung her work suit in the refresher and headed for the commissary to select dinner for both of them. Whoever got there first was responsible for foraging.

  She nodded at a few other trainees and their instructors before grabbing a tray and beginning the shuttling process. Heilos ate a lot, and he needed to keep his strength up. When he was done training her, it was back to his wife and daughters.

  Olena settled at the table and worked her way through the food of five other species that resembled her own in dietary requirements. It was rough to work through some of the legumes, but if she paid attention, she could cobble together the necessary nutrition to get through her days. It was a handy skill to have when she wasn’t sure what the food situation would be where she ended up.

  When Heilos joined her, she smiled and nodded her head for him to sit.

  He slid into a chair and settled. “You leave tomorrow.”

  “What?” She choked slightly and reached for her water to flush the food that had tried to kill her.

  “There is a ship going deep into Alliance space, and from Nodak Station, you will head to the salvage station. Three days of travel and you will be in your new home.”

  Olena took another gulp of water. “So, that’s it? I was on Earth, I am on the moon, and tomorrow, I head into space?”

  “Yes, and I return to my family, so I understand your discomfort, but I am determined that you go so I can return home.” He dug into his meal.

  She sat and finished her food while her brain spun. She was about to embark on a new career where she could rip things apart and put them together in any way she saw fit. It was at once the most appealing and most terrifying thing she had ever done in her life.

  When she finished her meal and cleared the table, she looked at Heilos and nodded. “I suppose this is farewell.”

  He chuckled and got to his feet. “I will see you off, but I will tell you that the short time I have been here, I have been consistently impressed with your skills and self-possession. I can only imagine the amazing feats you will accomplish. I only hope my daughters will do as well when they reach your age.”

  Olena blinked back tears at his heartfelt tone. His shaggy purple hair slid forward as he reached out and gave her a hug. “Scavenge well, Olena.”

  It wasn’t the most t-shirt-worthy expression, but she smiled and returned the embrace. It made it to her top-ten touching moments in seconds. She would remember this anytime she was unsure about her being away from Earth.

  It was good to have a memory of acceptance to haul out when she needed it. It joined the current six other times that she had been welcomed for being herself. With luck, that count would expand in her future.

  It was a shame that her future was uncertain.

  Chapter Two

  Olena was a little offended when the Terran being sent to a political post in the Nyal Imperium didn’t want to hang out with her during their voyage.

  The moment that the empath started vomiting, Olena was happy to be on the other side of the shuttle.

  The crew took the empath to sickbay and set a bot to scrubbing the spot she had been sitting in.

  Shaking her head at the unfortunately sick Terran, Olena continued to study schematics of some of the more commonly salvaged vehicles from a variety of species. Having a cast-iron stomach was surprisingly important in her line of work. The dead often arrived inside a wrecked ship. She had to be comfortable with bodies and doing situational scans for any legal action. She had learned the protocols on her first day.

  It was a long and boring transport through the stars, rather like being in fancy aircraft without the sense of approaching their destination. Olena used the time to study and rest. At Nodak, she would change to a Nyal Imperium deep-space transport. What she really wanted was to be working again. Perhaps she would have time between transports to get her hair and nails done one final time. It couldn’t hurt to find out.

  Having nanites bonded to her skull hadn’t even dented the advance she had received from the salvage station. Her hair follicles were now programmable, and she picked a fun purple to crown her on her start to a new life. It was in honour of her instructor, and she thought Heilos would enjoy the tribute.

  She snugged her bag on her shoulder as she left the groomer’s salon. It was a short walk to the departure bay where she would step into the next phase of her new career. Her nails were reinforced with something akin to titanium and her hair was purple. She felt pretty good about redoing her exterior for the new start. Now, she just needed to get to her spot on the salvage station and she could settle in to her new reality.

  Olena sat up on her twelfth day of work and rolled to one side, checking the salvage roster for incoming objects. Two scavengers were bringing in ships, and she had been assigned to the third scavenger who was hauling the detritus that had been floating around the same section of the asteroid field.

  Olena checked the estimated arrival time and grimaced. It was too soon for a solid meal, so she was going to have to drink breakfast in order to get enough sustenance for the day. If she ate solids, she would be puking in the zero-grav segment of the nameless station she worked on.

  She levered herself out of bed and took a gel shower. She smoothed the hot gel over her body and shattered it into microscopic dust with a sonic burst. The vacuum sucked away the particles, and she was left clean, dry and ready to get into her skinsuit.

  She would have preferred to be in the workshop today, but if she were needed to take apart a new find, that was what she would do.

  Fitting in at the station was harder than she thought. The majority of folks taking apart the ancient and obsolete had heavy beaks and grey eyes. Feathers and hair blended into a strange coating that ran over their bodies. Hrath were funny beings with a strict hierarchy built on ability and earning potential. Olena had gained the position of skilled trade upon entering the station, but now, she was working her way up to master salvager. It should take her six months or so, but she would do it. After she got master status, she would be allowed to spend her time in the workshops splicing tech together. She really wanted to earn it; the few hours she had spent in the workshop had been blissful.

  Sighing, she pulled up her liquid meal supplement and stuck a straw in it. It tasted like thick nothing and that was harder to swallow than something bitter. She gulped it down in measured increments and washed it down
with tea.

  It hadn’t been a consideration until she got into space, but water was a commodity that not all stations enjoyed. This particular station was blessed in its locale next to asteroids and an ice field. All retrieved vehicles were cleared of ice first and that water ran all the necessary units of the station, including the tea dispensers. It was processed and sold to the vehicles that came in for obsolete parts. Just like on Earth, water was a commodity to be bought and sold. If you needed it to live, you would pay.

  She rolled up and disposed of the food-supplement pack. She finished her tea and rolled the skinsuit up over her breasts, sliding her arms into the suit and pushing her fingers into the attached gloves. The suit came all the way up her neck and rested against her jawline.

  She made a face before she stroked the small electrodes on the surface of the suit. The suit wrapped around her and slipped inside. This was the part she hated, the suit invading her body to deal with waste via an extensive processing system. She would shed dust at the end of the day. If there was anything solid in her body, it would be on the exterior of the suit and scrubbed by cleaners when she stripped on the docks.

  Olena winced as the skinsuit invaded her in ways her gynecologist never imagined.

  She breathed in and out. Heilos had never managed to impress the graphic nature of the suit to her. The first few steps were always awkward.

  She checked the time and sighed. Time to take apart the past and use it to make someone’s future.

  The walk to the salvage docks was a little embarrassing, but every one of the salvagers had to do the same walk of shame in the morning with their skinsuits bonded to their intimate regions and almost all secondary sexual characteristics smashed flat.

  “Good morning, Master Thwip.”

  “Good morning, Salvager Olena.” He inclined his majestically silver head, his eyes blinking slowly.