Rescued by the Alien Pirate: Mates of the Kilgari

by Kyle, Celia

I flash a grin at Varia before moving on to the next crate. When I fling the cover off, a crate full of roughly spheroid, hand-sized chrome devices is revealed. They have numerous knobs and protrusions, but none of them look quite the same. Varia starts to reach into the bin, but stops herself.

  “Okay to touch?” she glances at me, eyebrows raised in question. “Not going to boil my hands off or anything right?”

  “No, those you may safely touch.”

  Varia reaches in and plucks one of the devices from the crate. Fiona moves over next to me and picks one up as well, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.

  “What are they?”

  I turn to Varia’s friend and tech expert. “They are known as gophormanchu. They were created by the famous tabletop game designer Xagy Xylax a decade ago.”

  Fiona twists one of the oblong protrusions, and it sinks into the sphere’s mass. The others along its surface shift and flow like water. “This has nanotech written all over it.” She looks over to me, her brows climbing her face. “What does it do?”

  I shrug. “No one knows. There have been entire volumes of the Encyclopedia Galactica holonet edition written about possible uses. Some believe it is a harmless but challenging puzzle. Others think they might be more insidious. All I know is that they’re all the rage in the Zeffron system and we stand to make a tidy profit.”

  Varia places her device back in the bin but Fiona turns toward me, her eyes growing large and her lips trembling as if near tears.

  “What—what are you doing?’

  Varia laughs and slips her hand around my waist. “She’s using an ancient Terran mind control technique called ‘puppy dog eyes’ so you’ll let her keep that gopher—gokart—go…”

  “Gophormanchu.”

  “Whatever.”

  I stare nervously at Fiona and lick my suddenly dry lips. “Why do I suddenly feel so anxious? This—this sorcery must end. Tell her to stop.”

  Varia shrugs her shoulders helplessly. “Have you ever tried to convince Fi to change her mind? You’re better off asking space not to be cold. If I were you, I’d just let her have it and save yourself the torment.”

  “Fiona, you may take it with my blessing.”

  Fiona’s face instantly morphs into a wide smile. “Thank you.” Then she stares intently at the device as she twists it to and fro. “You will surrender your secrets unto me, bwah ha ha.”

  “All right, crew, let’s get this cargo loaded. Varia, did your people get everything you need?”

  “For now, Solair. Ilya already loaded it onto your ship.”

  “Then let’s make haste. Time is creds.”

  Once our cargo has been loaded onto the Queen, I head up to the bridge for a meeting with my senior staff, as is customary. While we could speak over comms, I like getting the whole group together in person on a regular basis. I think it helps build camaraderie, among other benefits.

  “Captain on the bridge,” snaps Grantian. I slide into my seat and take in the room with my gaze.

  “All right, our next stop is the Zeffron system…”

  “As usual,” interjects Lokyer.

  “—and we’ve got the cargo from Hudd. Who wants to go first on their status report?”

  Montier steps forward, his legs stiff with anger. “I’ll go first, all right. You have to do something about the women. That—that Ilya greaser is always screwing with my settings, second guessing everything I do. I can’t work under these conditions.”

  Swipt lets out a sharp bark of laughter.

  “But let me ask you, Montier—have any of her modifications been wrong?”

  Montier sputters a bit, trying to maintain some of his dignity. “That—that’s beside the point. Just because you stare at her gluteus muscles when you think no one is watching doesn’t mean you have to stick up for her.”

  Zander purses his lips, fingers drumming on his tactical console.

  “What I think Montier is trying to get at is that we’re all a little anxious about integrating the women from the Frontier into our crew.”

  Kintar sneers at him from across the bridge. “What would you have us do, cast them to the four solar winds?”

  “No, of course not.” Zander holds his hands up in mock defense. “I don’t mean any disrespect, Kintar. I know you and what’s-her-name have grown close. And I like them, I really do. The ship seems more… sunny now.”

  Everyone nods in agreement, but then Zander continues. “But that being said, you can’t just smash a hover car and a shuttle together and expect the resulting mess to work like a shuttle. It takes time, and deliberate action, to bring two different parts into a cohesive whole.”

  Grantian clears his throat, and we all turn toward him. “And another matter...we were wondering, just who are we supposed to listen to? You or Varia?”

  “Well, me…” my voice trails off because I realize that if Varia is to remain on the Queen as my mate, it will require a great deal of adjustment—some easier to make than others. “Thank you, gentlemen. You’ve given me a great deal to think about, and I promise you we’re going to make this work. Dismissed.”

  As those not on active bridge duty file out of the door, I rest my chin in my hand and ponder our future on the Queen. No matter that Varia and I have worked out most of our issues, I still don’t see her being comfortable with me ordering the Frontier women around as if they were my own crew.

  Perhaps we could share leadership? Co-captainships are rare but not unheard of. My father was co-captain of a Vakutan freighter before he earned enough to buy the Queen. But it’s not something I have ever personally done.

  And besides, I’m not really sure I want a co-captain.

  Chapter Thirty

  Varia

  Now that Solair and I have worked out our future on the ship—more or less—I decide it’s time to check in with the rest of my “crew” and see how they fare.

  Solair is busy in a meeting with his senior staff on the bridge, so now seems the perfect time to get this done. Without the big boss Kilgari around, I might get more honest responses from the women.

  The first place I check for Thrase is the med bay, but I don’t see either her or Doctor Nicari within. A woman is resting in one of the beds, a recent release from the cryopods, but I don’t want to disturb her with queries.

  Instead, I check the observation deck and that’s where I find the professor. She’s ensconced against the far wall, back resting against a copper hued oblong cushion. I can see the top of her head above the data pad she holds in front of her face, and judging from the movement, she’s aware of my entry.

  But as I stride toward her, she continues to hide behind her pad, causing me some consternation.

  “Thrase?” I tilt my head to the side in a vain attempt to see around the pad. I don’t know why she’s holding it so close to her face. That has to make it hard to read. “Hello? Are you alive back there?”

  Thrase pulls the pad away from her face and rolls her eyes to the ceiling.

  “For the love of Kepler, Varia.” Her tone is rife with indignation. “Can’t a woman engage in some digitally assisted nostril excavation in peace?”

  “Digitally…” I shake my head. “I don’t understand, but if you’re busy I can come back later.”

  I turn to leave, but Thrase shakes her head and snags my sleeve.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m finished with my very private and also very revolting task. How can I assist you?”

  “It’s nothing much, I just wanted to check in and see how you’re settling in here on the Queen. We’ll be staying for a while, so I’m checking in on everyone.”

  Thrase pushes her glasses up higher on her nose and fixes me with an inscrutable gaze. “Settling in. What a quaint way to put it. Do you know how hard it is to make quantum entanglement architecture without a decent matter collider? The Kilgari are using tech from before I was born. It’s like I’ve been sent back to prehistoric times.”

  I try—and fail—to keep a smile off my f
ace at her typical rantings. “What I was getting at was whether you’re comfortable and your needs are being met… that sort of thing.”

  “Oh.” She purses her lips and scowls. “I suppose my biological imperatives are suitably satisfied, though sometimes it is a trifle annoying to have to wait in line for the sanitation facilities.”

  “Long lines for the bathroom is one of the things Solair and I are working on. Please try to be patient, and spread the word that we’re on it. Okay?”

  “You sound as if I’m some sort of busybody or gossip, but very well. I will acquiesce to your request.”

  “Thank you.” I turn to leave but then pause at the door leading out into the corridor. “Oh, and don’t wipe your boogers on Solair’s cushions.”

  I leave her gaping and head deeper into the ship, chuckling to myself. My next target is Ilya, and I don’t have to wonder where she’ll be—either in the mess hall or in the engine room. I’m not sure when or if she sleeps. If I threw a squirrel and an entire pot of espresso into a blender it would come out Ilya.

  On my way to the engine room, I nearly bump into Fiona. She’s got her eyes transfixed upon the gophormanchu device in her hands as she struggles to unravel its mystery. “Whoa. Sorry, Varia.”

  “No worries.” I rub at the spot on my forearm where one of the device’s protrusions jabbed me. “Listen, I’ve been speaking to people about how they’re settling in on the Queen, given that we’re going to be staying a while. Do you have any concerns?”

  Her face twists into a sneer. “Oh, I can get used to waiting in line for the vacuum tube, or having to make do with these artistic forgeries of tools the Kilgari favor, but the next time that Jax guy yells at me for hacking the lock on his pantry…”

  “Settle down, Fi. Why are you hacking the lock on his pantry in the first place?”

  “You know I’ve got a speedy metabolism. Sometimes a girl needs a nosh in the dead of the night. I’m a grown adult. I should be able to get food whenever I want.”

  I try to restrain a smile and keep my tone reassuring, but it’s hard. “Well, I’m fairly certain Jax is just doing his job and trying to make sure our provisions last until the next time we can resupply, but I can ask Solair to talk to him if you like.”

  “Oh, I like.”

  Apparently, she doesn’t have any other major issues because she returns her attention to the puzzle and heads off down the corridor. Since the quarters I share with Lamira and Thrase are sort of on the way to the engine room where I expect to find Ilya, I stop there first and find Lamira sitting cross-legged on her bed, skillfully finishing up a needlepoint project.

  “That’s great work, Lamira.”

  She looks up and smiles, splaying the fabric on the bed so I can see it fully. “I didn’t get a very good look at the Queen from the outside, so I’m working from a possibly flawed memory.”

  “Looks accurate to me. But I’m surprised to find you doing handicrafts. Didn’t you want to finish watching As the Galaxy Churns?”

  “That? I’m through with it. Binged the entire new season in one go. Besides, you know I like to keep my hands busy.”

  I smile at her and gesture toward the door. “I’m about to head down to speak with Ilya, hopefully. Did you want to come along?”

  “Nah, I’m good here. Tell her I said hello.”

  I head toward the exit, but Lamira calls out at the last moment.

  “Hey, Varia?”

  Turning back to her, I arch my eyebrow in query. “What’s up?”

  “Um… since you’re probably going to be sleeping in Solair’s quarters from now on, can I have your blanket?”

  I wipe my hand across my face and sigh. “That’s not… nothing is settled… I’m just going to leave.”

  How many people know? Shit, probably everyone. There’re no secrets on a ship this crowded, and it’s not like Solair and I have been subtle ever since we made our connection official between us.

  When I get to engineering, Ilya has been replaced by a woman-sized, Ilya-shaped oozing mass of black tar. Just as I enter the portal, two Kilgari blast her with sonic pressure hoses. Her eyes are squeezed shut as if from strain, but her mouth stretches in a wide grin.

  Gradually, they remove the oil coating until Ilya resembles her old self.

  “Whoo hoo.” She pulls plugs out of her ears and laughs. “Like being front row at a Burning Blood concert.”

  “I can see that you’re settling in just fine,” I drawl. “Did you have any concerns about integrating onto the ship?”

  “The lines for the bathrooms are too long and Montier doesn’t know a phase flux inducer coil from a reverse thruster carbonation unit. Honestly, I don’t know how this overly ornate relic stays in the air.”

  “Ilya, I respect your abilities, but Montier is the chief engineer and you’re kind of in his wheelhouse—or playpen, if you’d prefer.”

  “Well, this playpen is headed for disaster. You heard it here first.”

  The Kilgari don’t seem offended by her diatribe, so I decide to let it go for now. “Did you have any other concerns not related to the devices in this room?”

  “Just that the lines for the…”

  “I know. I know. We’re working on it.”

  I leave her to her own devices—not to mention Montier’s—and exit engineering, lost in my own thoughts.

  While there’s obviously a lot of work to be done to fully prepare the Queen for so many new crew members, it seems to me like overall everyone is happy to be here. That’s a big relief for me, but it doesn’t mean my work is finished. Far from it.

  My work. I shake my head in denial. No, it’s our work now—mine and Solair’s. I need to get together with him so we can work out all of these logistical issues.

  If we can’t work together as a cohesive unit, and be utterly transparent while we do it, both the Frontier women and the Kilgari crew will suffer. There’s no fucking this up. It has to be done right.

  I just hope we’re up to the challenge.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Solair

  A time-honored tradition among star captains is to walk the ship when their mind is troubled. My father taught me this long ago, when I was still quite young. Not only does the exercise tend to stimulate the brain, but it’s also a good way to glean what’s really going on in the ship.

  Also, as he liked to impart, it’s healthy for the crew to see their captain in all areas of the ship, even places he doesn’t really need to be. It helps reinforce the bonds of service between leader and follower, and, if it’s being done right, leadership is the ultimate service position. It can also be beneficial to morale for the men to see their captain in a casual manner, rather than having him yell at them to fix something.

  As the captain of this ship, I’m responsible for every soul dwelling within. There’s no passing the buck or shirking my duty. If I do that, someone might very well die. I’ve been lucky and only lost a few crewmembers during my tenure, mostly to accidents, but even that low number is much too high for my liking.

  Am I making a mistake by allowing the Frontier refugees to dwell among us? Could we have tried to find a better solution? Or will everything really work out and I’m just being anxious?

  Before I leave the bridge to make my rounds, I walk over to Swipt and lean my arm on the back of his chair. His fingers dance over the keys on his console as he runs a diagnostic on our thruster array.

  “Can I help you?”

  “At ease, Swipt. I was just hoping to pick your brain a little. What do you think about the human women dwelling with us on the Queen? And don’t soften your answer out of concern for my feelings, please.”

  Swipt pauses mid keystroke, and his face scrunches up in thought. “Speaking for myself, I like the idea. A whole lot.” He laughs. “And not just for the obvious reason.”

  I chuckle in response. “And what is the ‘obvious reason’ to which you refer?”

  “Come on—one hundred and seven women? I’m not mu
ch of a gambler, but even I like those odds. The crew have been talking and a lot of them think some of the Frontier women might be their fated mates.”

  I wince because his remark hits so close to home. I still haven’t told Varia about my suspicions yet, for fear of disturbing our newfound connection.

  “Do you think that’s possible?” My query belies what I know in my heart. It is possible because Varia is my mate. I know that now, but I’m looking for a bit of reassurance I’m not crazy. “I mean, we’re talking about two different sapient species here.”

  Swipt purses his lips and returns to his keystrokes. “I mentioned that a few times, but—you know that little grease monkey, Ilya? The cute one?”

  “I am familiar with her, yes.”

  “Just between you and me, the first time I saw her I was like, whoa. Something clicked. You understand? I haven’t kissed her yet, or even got to spend a lot of time with her, but I kind of think she might be my mate. I know it sounds crazy.”

  “No, Swipt. It’s not crazy at all.” I clap him on his shoulder. “As you were.”

  Lokyer glances over at me from his own console, his eyes somber under his horns. “Nothing’s going to be the same, Solair. Not saying it’s going to be bad, but it’s not going to be the same.”

  “Everything is in constant flux in this galaxy, Lokyer. Stagnation of thought and purpose has mired the Ataxians and the Alliance in their centuries-old war. The trick is not only to be unafraid of change but to take advantage.”

  Lokyer nods, but I can tell he’s not convinced. He’s the sort that needs charts, graphs, and peer-reviewed data before he’ll accept something as truth.

  I head out of the bridge, my footfalls echoing off the curving burnished walls. My ship is filled with the sounds of voices in conversation, which isn’t anything new. What is new are the feminine voices joining the chorus and the peals of laughter that seem to come from everywhere.

  Laughter. My crew and I enjoy a good rib, a good jest, but I don’t remember us ever laughing so much. It’s like with the women on board, we’re seeing old things in a new light. I can only assume it’s much the same experience for Varia and her people.