RJ turned and met a pair of sea-green eyes set in the most stunningly handsome, masculine face he’d ever seen. He blinked, momentarily stunned into silence as his gaze wandered down over the rest of the man standing behind the bar. If ever there was a stereotype of ‘sexy space pirate’ he was looking right at it.

“Vayne,” Mason rumbled, draining the mug in his hand. “Meet RJ.”

Vayne’s smile widened, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Pleased to meet you, RJ.”

RJ’s gaze slid sideways. Mason just grinned at him.

“Okay, I think you need to tell me what’s going on. Who is this?” he demanded, jerking his head at Vayne. “How do you know him?”

“I thought you said he was quick on the uptake?” Vayne asked, grabbing three glasses from the shelf behind the bar. RJ tried not to notice how his shirt pulled over his powerful shoulders. No one that well built spent a lot of their time in a bar.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. Mason was completely relaxed, leaning against the bar with one elbow, feet crossed at the ankles. His gaze swept over the bar every now and then, checking on their two companions on the other side of the room. RJ left him to keep an eye on their ‘undercover operatives’ and transferred his attention to Vayne.

Vayne shrugged, dark hair dancing over his shoulders as he lined the glasses up and sloshed amber liquid into them. “Think about it, handsome. How do you think I know the big lad here?”

RJ’s brain went right to the gutter, and Vayne grinned. “Okay, maybe you’re not as slow on the uptake as I thought.”

Mason chuckled, shaking his head as Vayne slid a glass toward each of them. “Stop teasing him, Vayne. RJ, Vayne is our ‘in’ to where we need to be. Want to lay it out for him, V?”

RJ kept his expression level, turning his head to meet Mason’s gaze again. There was absolutely no way this guy was Outpost Corps.

“Well that’s the boring option,” Vayne shrugged and knocked back his drink in one go. “But that’s what you get for going Starfleet, I guess.”

RJ stilled for a heartbeat, resisting the urge to look around and see if anyone had reacted. It was all well and good having Captain Starfleet playing pirate over the other side of the bar, but they didn’t need to come right out with it and say they were fleet.

“Don’t worry, I own everyone in this bar, one way or another. Ain’t no one going to talk.” Vayne’s lips quirked at the corners. “Okay, so there’s an auction tonight. Total black market, selling off some tech shit your lot have managed to lose. Experimental weapons or some such. I can get you in so you can take it out of circulation.”

Mason turned, leaning both arms on the bar. The heavy muscles in his shoulders bunched, highlighted by the dim lighting in the bar and the black ink that crawled over his skin.

“We’re going in three groups.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder to Murphy and Rennox. “Distraction group.”

“That’s obvious. Anyone with eyes in their head can see those two are Starfleet.” RJ inclined his head as he picked up his glass. He held it for a moment, wondering if it was actually safe to drink. Mason wasn’t human and he had absolutely no idea what Vayne was.

Vayne folded his arms and grunted in agreement. “FOC got the word out, but the group we’re hitting tracked the message, so they’re expecting fleet in some form or other.”

RJ nodded.

“So we’re the real undercover team,” he said, indicating himself and Mason. It made sense, with everyone looking at Captain Obvious, they wouldn’t look at either of them. Mason looked as rough as hell and he could easily blend into the crowd and track down the information they needed.

“Oh no, you’re not with me,” Mason rumbled, grabbing his glass and downing the contents in one go, then nodded toward the imposing figure of the man behind the bar.

“You’re going as his date.”