Corsairs: Adiron: Corsair Brothers Book 1

by Dixon, Ruby

  The mesakkah lord turns and glares at the screen, a pensive look on his face. "We'll see."

  7

  JADE

  I'm fast asleep in my room when Alice wakes me up, shaking my shoulder. There's a look of worry in her big eyes, and her heart-shaped face is lit up with a mixture of excitement and fear.

  I know that look, and I sit up the moment I see it. "A ship?"

  "A ship," she agrees. "A big one."

  "I'll get dressed. Get the others and have them come to the bridge?"

  "I'm on it, cap," Alice says in a jaunty voice, racing away again before I can chide her for the “cap” crack. She always calls me that and it drives me crazy. I'm the oldest of our small group, so I'm unofficially in charge. But just like Alice, I was a slave brought on ship. And just like Alice, I was a slave left behind when the others abandoned us. That doesn't make me captain of anything.

  I shove my legs into a pair of pants and throw on a wrap-shirt that Ruth made out of discarded uniforms, and then I race toward the bridge to meet the others. My hair's a mess, but it can wait a little. I need to see what the situation is first. I race down the silent, empty halls of the Buoyant Star, my bare feet slapping as they hit the ground. When we were first left behind, I found the ship creepy. It was so deserted and empty it felt like a tomb. But after three years of this, it no longer bugs me.

  It's home. As much as we have one anymore.

  The doors whistle open as I head onto the bridge. The Buoyant Star's bridge is enormous, every bit as big as a spaceship this size deserves—at least to my unknowledgeable eyes. It's got enough seating for twenty, each with different control panels and button set-ups. There's a captain's chair in the center of the room (complete with its own set of controls) and one massive wall is a view out into space. Most of the time, we see nothing but stars. I can see Alice is there with the others. Ruth's slouched in her favorite chair, her long legs stretched out in front of her, black hair falling in front of her sulky face. Helen sits across from her, legs delicately folded, and there's a look of such excitement on her perfect features that it sends a surge of adrenaline through me.

  "A ship, Jade! Are we excited?" She gives me a bright smile, waiting on a verdict.

  "I don't know yet, honey," I say. "Let's see what we've got, first." I move toward the window, gazing out. The ship's the size of a lemon on the massive screen, but as I watch, it's getting closer and closer. "How long do you think we have, about an hour?"

  "I think that's about right," Alice says, coming to my side. She crosses her arms under her breasts and regards the sight with me. "They've been hailing us, so they absolutely are coming for us."

  I stare thoughtfully at the approaching ship. I don't ask Alice if she hailed them back. I know the answer to that—we don't know how. We only know how to use a handful of the buttons on the wealth of controls on the bridge. We've been floating, stranded in space, for years now and we still can't speak or read a lick of the language. No one's here to teach us, and the computer won't acknowledge us in the learning programs because we're cargo.

  I study the ship, trying to compare it to the others we've run into. Most of those ships have been smaller. I don't know much about spaceships, so I always compare things to fishing, since it feels like we're stranded out in the biggest ocean ever. The Buoyant Star is like a whale, floating alone on this edge of the universe and in a class of its own. We've run into a few ships of different shapes and sizes, the biggest being the size of, say, a dolphin in comparison. Impressive on its own, but nothing to the “whale” we're currently in. Most are the size of regular fish, small little cruisers that the pirates like to run. The cruisers are easy to strip and launch back out into space, their control system not nearly as complicated as that of the Star. I was hoping we'd have another one of those middling fish, just the right size for us to steal supplies and turn out.

  But as the ship steadily approaches, I feel a ping of worry. This isn't a regular fish we've caught with our bait.

  This might be a shark. It's not quite as big as our whale, but it's pretty big, and I'm growing more concerned by the moment about the size of the crew she'll have on board. We can handle two or three pirates. We've handled five once, though that involved a lot of trickery.

  We're gonna need a fuckton of trickery if that approaching ship is full of pirates.

  I take a deep breath, thinking, and then turn back to “my” crew. "We've got a live one, girls."

  "Yay!" Helen says, clapping her hands with excitement.

  "Not yay," Ruth hisses. "I'm so tired of this slave girl shit. I don't want to be bait this time." She sits up in her chair, pushing her dark hair away from her pale face. "We need a better plan."

  "This one works," I tell her. "Unless you've got something up your sleeve, we're going with what works."

  "Ugh," she groans, dropping back into her chair again like a sulky teenager. "I hate aliens. They're such fucking hornballs. The moment they see human tits, they just lose their damn minds."

  "That's exactly what we're counting on," I say tightly, glancing over at Alice. "Anyone else object to the plan?"

  "Nope," Alice tells me, shaking her head. "I'm good with the slave girl plan."

  "All right, then."

  Helen clasps her hands in front of her chest. "Who's who today?"

  I glance at my team. Even though we've done this at least three times before, I get a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach each time. We've been stuck here together for three years and we've come to think of each other like family. More than family, even. I cried when I was taken from Earth and everyone I loved, but that's nothing compared to the devastation I'd feel if I lost Alice, Ruth or Helen. It'd be like missing a limb.

  Alice is my can-do girl. Even though she's small in stature, she's up for anything and everything. She jokingly refers to herself as my sidekick, the Robin to my Batman. Her two blonde topknots atop her head make her look younger than she is, but she's got a pretty face and an elfin build that the aliens seem to like. I think they're attracted to her diminutive stature.

  Ruth, on the other hand…Ruth is beautiful, but she's also quick to declare that she hates aliens. And space. And lying. And…whatever else she can think of. With her long black hair and pale skin, she reminds me of an old-school goth. She's the crankiest of our small group, but she's smart and good with her hands. She's also tall, with long legs, and if our aliens are the frog guys, they won't like that she's tall and intimidating. First impressions are so important for our plan to work.

  And Helen is…well, she's Helen. She came out of her stasis tube fully grown and absolutely new to the world. She's a fully adult woman, but everything is new to her. Literally everything. She's innocent as hell and it terrifies me to put her into any sort of dangerous situation but…she's perfect bait. Helen is some sort of strange species that's utterly, completely breathtakingly beautiful. She's mostly human-looking, but she's got bright red skin and long, silky lavender hair. Her catlike eyes have the longest lashes I've ever seen and they're an equally stunning shade of purple. Her figure is perfect, and her mouth is full and pouty. She's even got pretty iridescent fins on the backs of her arms and legs, and a bit of webbing between her fingers. I don't know what she is, but she's so overwhelmingly beautiful that we started calling her Helen after Helen of Troy.

  So yeah, Helen needs to be bait. The male aliens lose their minds every time they see her.

  As to my role, it depends. I'm not as young as the others. I'm thirty-three, and I'm pretty sure that Alice and Ruth are both mid-twenties. Helen is apparently a fully grown three, since we're counting the years that she's been out of the stasis tube (since Helen has no memories prior to that). Alice has blonde hair, Helen purple, and Ruth's hair is long and silky. Mine's kinky and coily, and even though I've been growing it out, it puffs around my head, wild and untamed. My skin is a rich shade of golden brown, which the aliens seem to find exciting, but I'm not as slender and busty as the others. I'm solid. M
ore than solid. Whatever. I'm plus sized, and there's nobody out here in space o impress, so I don't care.

  Normally I'd opt out of dressing up as a slave girl because I feel a little awkward standing next to the others (especially Helen) but Ruth's in a mood, and the last thing we need is her scowling at the aliens as they board. "Alice and I will greet them. Helen, you know your role, right?"

  She nods, giving me a thumbs up. "I lay down in my stasis pod and pretend like I'm just waking up. And I look pretty and helpless."

  "Bingo. Ruth, that means you're going to be in charge of doors. It looks like they're coming in from the right-hand side of us, so you'll need to get those doors. Can you handle that?"

  "Yup." She pops the “p” sound at the end of the word and gets to her feet. "I'm on it."

  I glance back at the window, and the incoming ship looks enormous. Bigger than a shark, I decide, upping it. Whale shark. That's worrisome. "Go ahead and change into your costume too, Ruth. Just in case we need backup."

  "Ah, fuck me," Ruth grumbles, but she'll do it.

  I take a deep, steadying breath, smile at them, and put my hands on my breasts. "Five minutes, ladies. Change clothes, fluff your tits, and get ready to wow some aliens."

  8

  ADIRON

  Both Kaspar and I watch from the staging room as the hatch-to-hatch connection extends out to the Buoyant Star. I'm not entirely surprised to see it hook on to the other ship, though it does fill me with a creepy feeling. There's no green light to show we've been approved to board. There's no response from the other ship at all, actually. No shields, no response to our hailings, no nothing.

  I look over at my brother as I ready my blaster. "Ghosts."

  He snorts. "It's not ghosts, you idiot. Mathiras said his readouts show that she's venting carbon dioxide from time to time, so the life support systems are on and working. Someone's in there. If it was all ghosts they wouldn't need life support."

  "You don't know that," I shoot back. "You've never met a ghost."

  "Will you two shut the kef up?" Lord Straik snarls from behind us. "You're getting on my last nerve."

  I make a face at the door and then lean over to Kaspar. "Ghosts," I whisper, just to have the last word.

  He looks thoughtful, then crooks a finger, indicating I should come closer.

  I do.

  He licks his finger and shoves it in my ear.

  With an outraged sound, I stumble away, glaring at him. "You monster."

  "You left yourself open for it," he says with a shrug.

  Damn it. I totally did.

  "I'm about to shoot both of you in the back and declare to your brother that it was an accident," Lord Straik says from behind us. "How has he not killed the both of you yet?"

  I grin. Kaspar does, too. We're always a little antsy when we're about to board an enemy ship. I mean, sure this one's full of ghosts, but that doesn't mean it's not the enemy. We don't know what's over there, so we'll treat it like the bad guys, and this is part of our ritual to pump ourselves up. We joke around, we're obnoxious, and we try not to take things too seriously.

  I wonder for a moment if I'd be able to lick my finger and stick it in Straik's ear before he notices. Probably not.

  The ship chimes a warning, indicating that the staging room is about to be sealed off from the main part of the ship. It's designed that way so if the ship-to-ship connection gets torn away by accident, the rest of the crew inside the vessel doesn't get killed. Usually, it's also a signal that shit's about to get real and to pay keffing attention. I glance at the ship-to-ship connection, but it hasn't been refused. The Buoyant Star connects with The Darkened Eye as if she has a crew on the other side, manning the controls.

  "You think that's automated?" Kaspar asks, clearly on the same page as me.

  "You know what I think."

  "Right. Ghosts." He smirks and plays with his blaster, pulling it out of the holster at his hip. "Ten credits if you let me go first."

  I snort. Ten credits won't even buy a pack of carcinogels. "Keep your credits. I don't want to go first anyhow." I mean, if there ARE ghosts…

  "Shut up. Both of you." Lord Straik sounds like an angry parent. "Or I'll leave you both behind."

  Kaspar steps in front of me and I grunt acknowledgment. Go first. See if I care.

  The portal clicks, then chimes a confirmation as it locks on to the Buoyant Star. Air rushes into the expanding tunnel walkway between the two ships, and I feel a rush of adrenaline. For better or for worse, we're about to get to the end of this crazy chase. We've lost our ship—temporarily—and we've teamed up with the enemy, but it'll all be worth it if there's something good on the other side. I imagine enough riches to buy a planet…not that I want one. I'm not entirely sure what I'd buy if I grew obscenely wealthy. I like spending time with my brothers on our ship. I don't care about the credits. I just don't want to be alone with my thoughts.

  There's a positive, chirpy little chime from our ship, indicating that it's now safe to move forward. I turn to look behind me, and Lord Straik is wearing his cloak and dark clothing, because of course he is. He's flanked by six of his a'ani retinue, all of them armed and in body armor. They're ready to take on whatever we find on the ship, most likely by force.

  Straik nods at me.

  I turn forward and nudge Kaspar. "Let's go in."

  My excitement builds as my brother takes the lead with me a step behind him. As we cross through the tunnel, I look out the window and see the enormous hull of the ship. The Buoyant Star is a cargo ship, like many that take to the outer lanes of the known galaxy, and so most of her hull is cargo space. The ship's sleek on top, not much bigger than The Darkened Eye, but latched on behind her, connected with cables and pulleys and a few strategic walkways, is an enormous cargo hold. It reminds me a bit of an iceberg, with a small tip and the bulky, dangerous underside.

  I lean close to Kaspar as I walk. "Look at the size of that cargo hull. What do you think they were shipping?"

  "Dunno," Kaspar murmurs back. "Better hope for our sake it's not livestock."

  I make a face at that thought. I can just imagine going all this way to hunt down some lofty treasure…and finding nothing but a hold full of long-dead meat-stock. That'd be some luck. "Maybe it's weapons," I whisper back to Kaspar. "Isn't that what Mathiras thought it might be?"

  He grunts, and I suspect we're both thinking of our brother, still on the bridge as the rest of us check out the mysterious ship. It has to be eating at Mathiras that he doesn't get to go on board with the rest of us. We talked everything over the night before, though, and it was agreed that if someone needed to step in and take control of things, it'd be Mathiras. Everyone likes and respects him.

  They're a little terrified of me being in charge of anything. Same with Kaspar.

  So Mathiras is on the bridge of The Darkened Eye and Lord Straik is at our back. A new idea occurs to me, and I lean forward to whisper to Kaspar again. "Do you trust him?"

  "Who, Straik?" At my agreement, he snorts. "Of course not."

  "Then why are we going in first?"

  "What other choice do we have?" He grins over his shoulder at me. "Besides, you want to see what's on here as badly as I do."

  He's not wrong. Curiosity is killing me.

  We get to the end of the tunnel and into the staging room on the other side. We're now officially on the Buoyant Star, even if we're still breathing The Darkened Eye's oxygen. I peer around me curiously as the others file in behind us. Doesn't feel haunted so far. I glance over at Kaspar, but he's stationed himself at the door of the Star, waiting for the signal.

  Lord Straik has his weapons put aside for the moment and his data pad is out. He holds it up to the door and then frowns as an error message flashes across the screen. "I can't synch up with the ship."

  "You thought you could?" I look at him in surprise. "Even I'm not that dumb."

  He gives me a withering look. "It's one of my family's ships. Of course I should be able to
connect with the system. I have access to everything. Or I should." He frowns down at his data pad. "Someone's been tampering with things."

  "Let's go tamper back," Kaspar says eagerly. He nods at the door. "Say the word."

  "Er, before we race in…do we know how many crew were on this ship when she last left port?" I ask Straik, curious. The bigger the crew is, the more likely the odds for a mutiny.

  "Seven," he says. "All very loyal sa'Rin males."

  "Huh," is all I say. "Seven crew to operate this enormous ship?"

  Kaspar shrugs. "So it's not livestock, then."

  I guess not.

  Straik turns to Kaspar and nods. He slides his data pad back into its holster and pulls his fancy-looking blaster back out. I admire it for a moment. I need to steal me one of those. Before I can ask where he got it, Kaspar hits the panel on the ship.

  The doors glide open in a silent welcome.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand up again. We didn't have to hack that at all. "Ghosts," I whisper again.

  9

  ADIRON

  I follow close behind Kaspar, my weapon at the ready as we walk down the hall of the eerily quiet ship. The lights are on, and the floors surprisingly dust-free. That doesn't mean anything, of course. The cleaning bots could be going through their regular cycles, not realizing that there's no one on board. The hall itself is long and unadorned, the walls the same treated metal that most ships are made from. There's no damage to the gray paint coating them, either. No scratches or blaster scorch marks, and best of all, no blood. That's a good sign.

  Kaspar lifts his head and sniffs the air. "You smell that?"

  I look around and sniff. I don't smell anything. Well, no, I take that back. I smell dust and the air is sour and musty, but nothing else. "I don't smell anything but your socks," I joke.