by Dixon, Ruby
Deceiving The Corsair
The crew of the pirate ship the Lovesick Fool are worried about their navigator, Sentorr. He's obsessed with working, spending all his time on the bridge. It's not work the big blue alien is truly obsessed with, though.
It's a female.
Sentorr's convinced that Zoey, a female navigator on another pirate ship, is his mate. She won't show him her face, though, or agree to meet him. She's happy to have steamy, late-night conversations with him over comm channels, though.
He's determined to find her and claim her, no matter what it takes. But when he does locate her and discovers that she's been lying to him about who - and what - she is, will he still love her?
Or is the fact that Zoey's human too much for this blue-skinned male?
Deceiving The Corsair
Ruby Dixon
www.rubydixon.com
Copyright © 2018 by Ruby Dixon
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Photo by: Sara Eirew Photographer
Cover by: Kati Wilde
Edits by: Aquila Editing
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Author’s Note
The Corsairs
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1
SENTORR
"People…really eat this stuff?" Fran looks over at Kivian, an expression of horror and dismay on her face.
"Like…voluntarily?" Cat stares at the jar on the table in the mess hall.
"What does it look like?" Iris asks, her fingers twined in Alyvos's. She's seated directly in front of the jar in question, her expression curious. She doesn't see the horror on the faces of the other two humans, her radar-sensing visor only allowing shapes and movement, not facial expressions.
Our captain, Kivian, just twitches with amusement. Tarekh looks like he's about to bust his gut holding back his laughter, and Alyvos just rubs his thumb against Iris's hand, his other protectively resting on her shoulder.
The mess hall of the Lovesick Fool is noisy this evening. I lean against the doorway, watching as the three human females sit around the table, Cat and Fran watching the large jar closely. Me, I've seen that sort of thing before. It's not the first time the Fool's delivered inukni worms to the Outer Rim and it won't be the last.
First time for all the humans on board, though.
"Looks like earthworms with beetle heads," Cat says in a horrified whisper. "Except as big as a ruler."
"The trick's getting ’em down the throat, I hear," Kivian tells the humans, amused. "The skin's really soft. If you accidentally bite into it, it dies with a gush of fluid and then you just have to start all over again."
Cat gags. Tarekh chortles.
I just roll my eyes. Once upon a time, we used to be a pirate ship. We were four males and took our jobs fairly seriously. We never sat around and watched humans just to see their squeamish reactions to settler foods. But it seems like work is only half as interesting as it used to be to the others in the crew. Now they'd much rather spend their free time with their human mates instead of plotting out new jobs to fill our time. Whenever I complain, Kivian just says they're in a “honey-moon” period and they'll settle in to work soon enough, but as the months pass, I keep waiting.
And waiting.
The humans have changed everything, and I'm not entirely sure if I like it. I like the humans well enough. It's the change I'm not a fan of. But then again, I've never been a fan of changes, or surprises, or anything of that sort. I like life orderly and expected.
"People eat them…whole? Is that why they're banned?" Iris asks in a soft voice. "Are they toxic?"
"They're nasty," Cat adds, her eyes wide with fascination. Her cheek is almost pressed to the top of the table as she tilts her head, trying to make sense of the squirming mass in the jar.
"People eat them because they're starving," I say sourly, chiming in for the first time. "Some of the outer farm worlds have bad years when the locals have to choose between selling their crops and eating them. They're so far out that it's cost-prohibitive to get food supplies sent out for an entire family. So they swallow inukni worms. It tricks the body into thinking that it doesn't need food. The bigger the worm, the longer you can last. Cheaper than having food shipped, and it's easier to work when you're not aware of how hungry you are."
They all turn and stare at me. Fran looks sad, while Cat looks thoughtful. Kivian's expression is knowing, and it's because he's known me the longest out of all of them. He knows I'm very familiar with poor Outer Rim farms and their methods to make food stretch.
"They're illegal," Tarekh finally says, his humor dying as he reaches out and turns the jar, pointing at the pincer-like head, "because these are parasitic. If not properly disposed of, they can infest livestock, and the last thing a farmer wants is an entire herd of meat-stock that won't eat. Also, when you unhook your worm, it has to be done carefully or the mandibles will tear holes in the intestine. Easy to get an infection and die. Happens a lot more than it should."
"Not a lot of doctors out on Outer Rim worlds, either," I add. "But people do what they must to survive."
"So why are we doing this?" Iris asks, shaking her head.
"Because it's a job and that's what we're paid to do." Kivian shrugs and reaches out to play with a lock of Fran's dark hair. "We don't force ’em down anyone's throat. We just make them available to those that pay us. Like Sentorr said, sometimes the illegal option's the only one you have. Most folks would rather eat a worm than starve."
"I'm about fifty-fifty myself after looking at these things," Cat says, shoving the jar away with a shudder. "Nice of them to leave us a few as a thank you."
"More like a no thank you," Fran murmurs. She gets up from her chair and moves into Kivian's lap, and he puts his arms around her waist, holding her close. "I'm ready to be running guns again, and I never thought I'd say that."
He just grins up at her, expression both amused and adoring.
Tarekh pulls the jar toward him, pretending to look at it thoughtfully. "Oh, I don't know. I bet if you cut these up and fry them in a pan, they'd make decent eating."
"That's because you'll eat anything," Cat tells him, wrinkling her nose. "I swear your stomach's as big as that flapping mouth of yours."
"You had no complaints about my eating skills last night," he says, and she launches herself across the mess to cover his mouth with her hand while the others erupt into laughter. Alyvos—fighting, always ready for battle Alyvos—just shakes his head with amusement at their antics and presses his mouth to the back of Iris's hand.
Keffing sad that this is a pirate crew. I bite back my disgust. I'm not mad at them. I'm not mad that they're in love with their mates. It's just a mixture of frustration over the changes going on in the Fool's crew, bad memories from the inukni worms, and maybe my own loneliness pouring through. Either way, I'm bad company. I push off the wall. "I'm heading to the bridge. I'll take the night shift."
No one says anything. I've taken the night shift a lot lately, ever since Iris came o
n board and all of the others were officially paired up. I don't mind. I actually prefer it, because it's quiet and private, and sometimes I want to be alone.
All right, a lot of the time I want to be alone.
I turn and leave, heading toward the bridge. Lately, it's been my favorite place. I find that I look forward to sitting in my nav chair and pulling up the star charts and just relaxing for the next few hours with an open comm channel and the stars for company.
I don't blame the others for wanting to spend time with their mates. I really don't. But once upon a time, the Fool felt like we were a crew of friends, making money, doing jobs, and having a good time. Now it's three couples and their fifth wheel. I don't begrudge anyone their happiness.
Being on the bridge is mine.
The doors slide open as I enter, welcoming me. Things are quiet, the screens showing alternate views of star charts with the courses I've plotted, and open space across from that. The main system scrolls through minute navigational shifts, automatically plotting and replotting with every planet, asteroid, or shipping lane we pass. My seat at the bow is empty, waiting for my return.
As I move toward it, I feel at peace. No, more than that, there's a low coil of anticipation in my belly.
Alone at last.
"Sentorr," I hear Iris call from the hallway. "Wait up."
I bite back a groan of irritation, because out of all the humans, I like Iris the most. She's sweet, thoughtful, and best of all, quieter than the other two. And because it's Iris, I wait, automatically tapping the door controls so they'll remain open.
She arrives a moment later, her radar goggles resting on top of her head and her cane in her hands. She's told me before that she doesn't mind the goggles, but they require concentration and sometimes she prefers to take them off. Her cane lightly taps against the edge of the portal into the bridge before she steps inside, and she automatically turns toward my chair. Her small human face has a bright, wide ribbon over the scars where her eyes used to be. "Are you sitting?"
"Not yet." I keep the abruptness out of my tone. "I was just about to take my station. Is something wrong?"
"No. Alyvos and I were about to go to bed anyhow." Her cheeks get a little pink, a smile on her face as she feels her way forward a step or two, her hand clasping the back of Aly's chair at his station. "I won't bother you long. I just wanted to…talk. Is everything okay? You seemed troubled tonight."
"What makes you think that?" I clasp my hands behind my back, not moving.
Iris smiles in my direction and tucks her cane under her arm. "You were quiet."
"I'm always quiet."
"This is a different kind of quiet." She tilts her head. "I was just wondering if something was bothering you."
"I'm fine." I don't know if she would understand. I'm not entirely sure I understand how I'm feeling, just that I'm impatient for her to leave so I can be alone here on the bridge. "Really. Don't worry about me."
"I was talking to Aly and we were thinking about taking a vacation when we get back from our next refuel stop. Find some planet with a nice beach and take a few days to just relax. Do you want to come? You're always welcome to hang out."
And be a third wheel instead of a fifth (or seventh) wheel? "I'm fine, truly."
"I worry you need to take a break, Sentorr. You work twice as much as anyone else." The smile she gives me is gentle, even as she runs her hands along the back of Alyvos's chair as if missing her mate's presence at her side. "I know sometimes you think we don't notice, but we do. Everyone on this ship cares about you."
She really is a good human. Alyvos is a lucky male. "I truly am fine, Iris. I enjoy working. I do." I glance down at my comm panel on the ship and see the green light that tells me I've received a ship-to-ship comm while away from my station, and my impatience grows. "I know it's hard to believe, but some of my happiest times are alone here on the bridge."
"Mmm." Iris clearly doesn't believe me. She smooths her fingers—four of them and a thumb, which still jars me—along the chair, then gives it a pat. "If you ever want to talk, you know you have a friend in me. I won't say a thing."
I glance down at the green light and do my best not to be impatient with Iris. She's trying her best to be supportive. "I do thank you, but rest assured, I'm quite fine, unlike Alyvos, who is likely ready to tear the walls down because you've been gone so long."
A brilliant smile lights up her face. "I've been gone less than five minutes."
"Precisely."
Iris chuckles and takes her cane in hand again, gliding the tip along the floor. "You have a point. All right. I just wanted to check on you." She doesn't leave, though, hesitating. "If you need someone to come and cover the shift—"
"I know," I tell her quickly. "I will knock at Alyvos's door and you will keep him company. I am aware." I pause, worried I sound abrupt. "And I do thank you, Iris. You are very kind."
She gives me another soft smile, pats Alyvos's chair, and then turns to leave. I wait until she's tapped her way off the bridge and disappeared down the hall to the living quarters before I hit the button to shut the bridge doors and then turn to my station, practically sweating with eagerness. I can't type the command to receive fast enough, my heart pounding in my chest.
It's a message from the Little Sister, an old junker of a Class IV freighter, run by a family of fellow pirates. It's an open message, sent on a pirate band that doesn't get much use as the common channels, but it's perfect for late-night private communications. Did you die? The message has no official receiver assigned, but I know it's for me. I recognize the “tone.” Fall into a wormhole? Nearest sun go supernova? What?
I can't stop the smile that creases my face. In fact, I'm smiling so broadly that I can feel my cheeks ache. I laugh to myself at the message, then send a response. Not dead. We celebrated a successful shipment. Took me a few to get away from the others.
I kick my feet up on the dash, idly checking charts, system performance of the ship and nearby news feeds while waiting for the Little Sister's response.
It doesn't take long. It's about keffing time. I thought I was going to be on all night by myself.
Nope, I send back. I'm here. Settling in for a late night?
Yes. My brothers are asleep. Cargo is locked and loaded. Currently en route to the nearest port for some fuel, rest, relaxation, and then off we go again. The usual. You?
We just finished a delivery of worms to a trader who's taking them to the Outer Rim.
Worms, huh? Yummy. Hope those were for soil and not for eating.
Eating, I send back. Look up inukni worms. I'll wait.
I picture her bright blue skin and flashing white smile. Does she wear her dark hair in a braid, I wonder? Or loose? For what feels like the thousandth time since we first started our late-night chats, I try to imagine what the navigator of the Little Sister looks like, because I'm completely and utterly entranced with her. She's had my heart since the very first dirty joke she made across the comm bands.
I know her name is Zoey. Unusual for a mesakkah, but she says it's a family name, which isn't. I know she has three older brothers who served in the war back on Homeworld and she joined them when they started runs with the Little Sister. I know that they travel the same lanes we do, and that they prefer to escort personnel (aka hideaways or hostages or criminals on the run) instead of smuggling contraband like the Fool does. I know she loves the stars more than anything and loves to travel.
I know she's lonely and unmated, and she only spends time with her brothers and the ship. I know she's got a wickedly sharp sense of humor, and she's startling in her thinking sometimes.
In short, she's perfect for me.
I just have to convince her to leave her ship for mine. I haven't figured out how I'm going to achieve that yet, but it's my goal. Zoey will be my female if it's the last thing I do…but for now, I'm content to flirt across comm channels with her.
Wow. That is hugely gross. People do that?
Th
ey do.
You said you grew up on a farm world. Did you ever have to do that?
Once or twice when it was a bad year.
She types in something illegible that looks like a symbol.
I didn't copy your last transmission, I tell her.
Oh, sorry. That was just a sad face. Sort of. I tend to use it with my brothers a lot. It's a holdover from…well, it's just a bad habit. Nothing important. Sorry if I confused you.
Not confused. I just didn't grasp your message. I feel that way a lot lately, though.
I'm laughing, she sends. The females again? Your ship needs a hefty dose of estrogen. It'll be good for you, Sentorr. She knows all about my struggles to fit in with the ever-changing roles on the ship, and she thinks it's funny. I just like making her laugh, and I know she has my back, so I don't mind her amusement.
Well, one of them might be breeding, I admit, thinking of Fran and her irritable moods lately…and her fixation with mixing both sweet and sour noodles in the mess hall. I admit it's hard to tell with humans.
There's a really long pause, and I picture her flicking through the seven or eight monitors on her station—just like mine—looking for the best path to steer the Little Sister safely out of notice from nearby ships, law enforcement, and anything else that might cross their paths. I'm so fascinated by the mental image I almost miss her next transmission.
Humans?
Shocking, isn't it? It's not something I normally share with others, since they're contraband, but yes. Not just one, but three humans on board the Fool. Feel sorry for me.
I totally do, ew. You guys must be a human magnet or something.
I chuckle to myself. Sometimes I think that. I hope you don't think less of me and the crew here. I know those that co-habitate with humans are…tough to comprehend sometimes, but they really are just like you and me for the most part. Strange looking, though.
