The Alien Pirates' Treasure (Star Pirates Book 1)

by Charity Wells

  “Lo’tan. Don’t pester them. You can all discuss at another time. This isn’t a proper dinner table topic,” Mother Ja’nir chides her mate, who lowers his head in guilt.

  “I agree, they don’t need you poking at their pups just yet,” my dam joins in, shaking a finger at the male. “Now, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think I need dessert after all that.”

  Chapter 17

  Polly

  My wedding day is finally here and it’s so unbelievable I want to pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming, but I won’t because I don’t want this dream to end. When I woke up on that Viktoid ship all those weeks ago, pregnant and alone, I was absolutely terrified.

  What was I to do? What would I have done if Ca’lek and Va’naar hadn’t shown up when they did? I have no idea.

  But reflecting back at my morbid experience and remembering how utterly defeated I felt, I can honestly say I never expected to fall in love and be mated in a matter of weeks. Life really knocked me for a loop there, but having these males show up and sweep me off my feet was the best thing that could have happened to me.

  Mother Ja’nir and Mother Da’leah pull me out of bed at the crack of dawn. They chase my mates off with their sires and drag me away to get ready. We head to a dressing suite at the Gathering Hall where our ceremony would be held in the front garden later. It was a chaotic whirlwind of a morning. But, I loved every minute of the pampering.

  They help me undress and bathe in the traditional Mephidaean fashion, which for some reason, takes hours. Everything had to be scrubbed, rinsed, and properly groomed. It’s all part of the tradition I guess, but at least it’s enjoyable once I got over my initial embarrassment.

  Days ago, Mother Ja’nir had given me a lengthy lesson on the importance of scent in Mephidaean culture. Mated individuals often smell strongly of their partners because their manes absorb and carry oils from their mates’ scent glands. Strangers can use those scents to identify the different members in a bond, deterring them from pursuing mated individuals. Because I’m human and lack the fine furs meant to trap their scents, Ca’lek and Va’naar will have to work extra hard to ensure others know who I’m mated to, but I have no qualms with that.

  To make it easier, I bathe in carefully selected soaps designed to wash away all other odors and enhance the natural scent of my body. That way, the first scents I collect on my body are those of my mates.

  When I’m finally finished, they dry me off and massage my skin with sensual oils that were meant to tease and heighten the sexual drives of my males. It makes me chuckle because I don’t think it’s possible for my mates and I to make love more often than what we already do. I’m still a bit tender from our lovemaking just last night. And if the dams hadn’t interrupted, we would have been well on our way to some leisurely morning sex too.

  “I...don’t think they need help with their...uh...appetites,” I say, reaching up to rub a spot on my head that has grown sore from Mother Da’leah pulling at it.

  “Oh, we know you don’t need help enticing your mates,” Mother Ja’nir says, smirking at me while she lays out the different pieces of my gown, reminding me that my mates had been forced to give me up before they had satisfied their desires.

  “Polly, I am almost finished weaving your mane. You must keep still, and please keep your hands out of the way,” Mother Da’leah fusses. “And as for our son’s appetites, well, this is just part of the ceremony. It’s not just about scenting like your mates, but also enticing your mates to have more than one litter, though we already know that won’t be a problem.”

  “And as for enticing our sons, the oil is simply an old tradition. A Mephidaean female would dab it behind her ears or along her jaw where her scent glands are located. It is meant to encourage a mating heat early in the bond to form a stronger relationship and so that newly mated triads will hopefully breed the first litter quickly.

  “It is done so that they are more likely to have multiple litters before the female can no longer carry safely. We know you are already pregnant, but you can’t blame us for wanting you to have another litter as soon as possible.”

  “Several litters. You must have several more litters Polly, especially since your kind tends to only birth one pup at a time. Thank the ancestors you can safely carry twins, but we are eager for more and I know it isn’t common for humans to carry multiples. Tell me, could your second batch be twins as well?” Mother Ja’nir asks, looking up from the table. “Does that run in your family?”

  “Or your third? You must have a third batch,” Mother De’leah adds.

  “Alright you two, I think you’re scaring my new sister. She’s already giving you two pups. Let her worry about how many more she will have with her mates later,” Ca’lek’s eldest sister, Nee’shi, scolds as she walks in with the rest of my mates’ siblings. “Don’t mind them. Having many large litters is not only a sign of prestige, but guarantees that our family names will live on. They mean well...despite their overeager tendencies.”

  “There, all done,” Mother Da’leah says with a satisfied sigh.

  My hands slink up towards my head because the urge to touch my hair is overwhelming.

  “What did I already say?” she asks, batting my hands away. “Come now, we need to get you dressed before you are late for your own mating ceremony. We can’t have that, now can we? Now, let’s do your makeup and get you dressed.”

  The next thirty minutes or so are spent with every female member of my new family dressing me like a doll. Va’naar’s sister, Fa’lin, paints my face with expert precision. She applies it so carefully, I barely feel it on my skin, but the small hand mirror she holds up shows a gorgeous balance of contours and the lightest dusting of color to enhance the vibrant green of my eyes.

  I was surprised at how good she was, especially how she had no need for makeup herself. But she did mention she’s studying to be a beautician, with the hopes of working on the station orbiting Mephidaean space. It makes sense now. She would need to know how to serve the various species there.

  My other sisters in law hold portions of the navizili while their dams weave it all together, explaining all the details of what the different knots and colors in the ribbons mean. The colors represent each separate family. Each twisty, complicated knot has a special meaning in regards to tying the families together and mixing the bloodlines. The top of the weave is loose and open, but as they work their way down, my new dams tighten the strands, pulling the gaps closed until the entire thing forms one smooth rainbow cord, ending in a knot that seems to have no end.

  When they’re done, Mother Ja’nir turns me round to face the mirror. Everyone steps back, leaving me alone with my reflection. I freeze, shocked at the sight of the beautiful woman staring back at me. She’s me, but I’ve never seen myself like this before. It’s not just the hair, the makeup, or the dress. There is a flush to my skin and a gleam in my eyes that I never saw on myself before I met Ca’lek and Va’naar. This must be what being loved looks like.

  The navizili Mother Ja’nir and Mother Da’leah presented me with this morning is beautiful. A traditional navizili would have been all wrong for me. As a human, I’m shorter than the average female Mephidaean and lack a tail that would have necessitated a third ‘sleeve’ to accommodate it. The original navizili would have left my butt bared to the public if I tried to wear it.

  Instead, my mating navizili is a combination of a traditional human wedding gown from Earth and the decorative woven swatches of clothing females wear for mating ceremonies here. The two of them must have spent hours researching dresses and discussing it with a seamstress to come up with the final design that incorporated both of our mating traditions, and honestly, I couldn’t be any more stunned.

  Soft, white fabric hugs my bosom, then flows into a long, flowing skirt that swirls around my feet. The top is a human style that fits snugly over my breasts, but leaves my bump comfortably free. Short, cap sleeves hug my shoulders and prevent the dress from slipp
ing out of place. There’s a cape-like drape of colored fabric that forms the back of the navizili, attaching to the neckline of the gown, then circling around under my breasts and becomes a collection of amethyst and azure colored ribbons that hang down from the bottom of the bodice. Ca’lek and Va’naar’s family colors are woven together, then added to the navizili lacing through the pieces hanging from my dress. The weave forms a loose blanket over my stomach to symbolize each family’s promise to protect the future pups from harm. The endless knot at the end centers just below my belly, bumping against me as I move. It is intended to represent the unending nature of our bond and the strength of our love.

  “Thank you Mother Ja’nir, Mother Da’leah,” I whisper, struggling not to cry and ruin my makeup. My own mother may have died when I was young, but now I have two mothers to fuss over me and my babies.

  I’m filled with such awe and gratitude. I turn and pull them both in for a hug. Despite having always wanted a family of my own, I never really expected I’d have a chance to get married. I certainly never dreamed of getting ready for my wedding surrounded by people who love me, not when I lost my own family so long ago.

  Their arms wrap around me, one pats me lovingly, while the other squeezes me tight.

  ∞∞∞

  Va’naar

  Ca’lek paces with agitation, avoiding his sires attempts to groom him further. He is dressed, except for his tatoli, which his dam will bring shortly. His mane has been brushed, but he could not sit for longer than necessary. Our mate is away from us and his need to return to her has him growling under his breath with every step.

  Lo’tan and Rea’lin gave up on him, throwing their hands in the air and laughing at my bonded’s grumpy behavior. Knowing that the sooner we finish, the sooner we can be reunited, I sit patiently while my sires brush my mane and tail to a shiny, smooth finish.

  Both us are clad in formal tunics in our family colors. Ca’lek’s is a deep green with a cream trim. Mine is a pale yellow with a dark blue trim. These tunics once belonged to our sires. I wear my secondary sire’s tunic, while Ca’lek wears his primary’s tunic. The clothing belonged to their sires and then their sires beforehand, and so on for as long as anyone can recall. It is a time honored tradition that males wear the tunics of their sires. One day, our sons will wear them during their mating ceremony as well.

  “You are very calm, my son,” my secondary observes, straightening my collar.

  “No,” I reply with a shake of my head. “I am simply not climbing the walls like my primary.”

  All four sires laugh, but Ca’lek pauses long enough to scowl at me, which only makes our sires laugh harder.

  “I remember mating your dam like it was only yesterday. Her navizili was a rosy pink and it clashed terribly with the Gathering Hall’s drapery,” my primary says with a wistful tone. “Your granddam was so angry when we arrived and she saw the wrong drapes up. The decorators were supposed to use a pale green drapery, but instead, had used this garish orange color that clashed with everything but brown and green. She went on such a tirade that we feared the ceremony would be canceled. Da’leah told her to sit down and shut up so we could get on with it because she was eager to get us alone afterwards, not giving a damn what the curtains looked like.”

  “Ja’nir was just as impatient. Though, unlike some males,” Father Rea’lin pauses, giving me a sidelong look. “We waited until after the official ceremony to claim her.”

  “If we had waited, we might still be trapped with Sa’rin, simply because we did not recognize our true mate before it was too late,” I reply, defending our actions. “Besides, it’s not as if we intentionally sought to break the contract. It just happened. And I thank Vren it did.”

  The door to the room suddenly opens, interrupting the conversation. Our dams walk in. Ca’lek immediately crosses the room to meet them.

  ∞∞∞

  Ca’lek

  “Where’s Polly? Is she alright?” I ask while my dam greets me.

  “Polly is fine,” she answers, smiling proudly. “I sent her down to the garden with your sisters. Now bend down here and let me put this on you. I don’t remember when you got so tall.”

  With a long suffering sigh, I lean down and let my dam slip my tatoli over my head. During the ceremony, the tatoli will be used to bind the three of us together. I tremble with anticipation as the weight of it settles on my chest. In reality the sash’s weight is insignificant, but the thought that soon my mating will be official makes the sash feel so much heavier.

  I brush my hand over the silky fabric and look down at it. Nothing can take me from my Polly. We defied tradition to take her as ours and won. It feels like a momentous moment, a turning point in my planet’s history. Perhaps one day, there will no longer be male pairs trapped in loveless, lonely matings just because of an ancient tradition.

  “Stop fussing with your tatoli, Ca’lek. You’ll ruin it,” my dam says, batting my hand away from it. Her fingers work quickly to rearrange the decorative talismans lining the sash, fixing the mess she thinks I’ve made. “There, much better.”

  “Thank you Mother,” I say graciously, watching my sires while they finish readying themselves.

  She bursts into a fit of tears. “Oh Ca’lek! I’m so proud of you. Honestly.” She wipes the moisture away from her mane so it doesn’t matt and clump before the ceremony. “I never thought I’d live to see this day. Even when we signed that awful mating contract, I hoped you would refuse to adhere to it. A part of me wanted you to comm us and say you weren’t returning to Mephida. I wanted you happy, even if it meant exile for you both. But you were such a stubborn pup. Honor and duty were your mantra. I knew you would never turn your back on your responsibilities, so you found another way instead.”

  “I never expected you boys to go through with it. A dam always knows, you understand, yes?” Mother Da’leah says from across the room, where she’s helping Va’naar rework the beads Polly had woven into his mane near his ear. “My Vishni might have waited until the last minute to back out, but I fully expected to see him refuse to mate that spoiled little brat of a Bel’faun and talk Ca’lek into following him.”

  “I had my worries too,” Mother admits, patting my arm. Then she shakes her head and eyes me sternly. “Come my son, sit down and let me fix your mane. It’s all messy.”

  I nod as she leads me over to a chair to sit and she begins fussing with my mane. Even though I have already groomed it, I let her fuss anyways because she’s trying to distract me from my nerves and it’s working. Well, to a degree.

  “When you were younger, you were such a rambunctious little thing. Always getting yourself into trouble. You kept your sires and I quite busy. I remember this one time you decided to go out picking dalas by yourself. You snuck out and borrowed your sister’s cart. You were so sure you would bring home an entire orchard.” My dam laughs as she recalls that fiasco.

  “That was when Ca’lek and I met,” Va’naar adds.

  “I remember that,” my sire says. “Instead of a cartload of dalas, Va’naar dragged you home in the cart, covered in mud and babbling senselessly from a frillig bite.”

  “Yeah, he climbed too high, and the branch broke, dropping him in the frillig’s wallow. Thankfully it only bit him once before running away,” Va’naar adds. “I was picking dalas that day too, saw the whole thing. If I hadn’t pulled him out, he might have drowned in the mud. As it was, he was barely coherent enough to tell me where he lived.”

  Our parents laugh gaily over that incident.

  “I was only eleven!” I protest. “And dalas were Mother’s favorite. I wanted to surprise her.”

  “Then there was the day you stole your tutor’s glider when you were supposed to be studying and flew it straight into a bog, destroying the damn thing. It took us all cycle to find you, then we had to pay Lu’ok to replace it,” my primary sire said in a musing tone. “You were only eight at the time, but I spanked you for that one.”

  “Oh! And
what about the time he snuck into the kitchen and stole the pot of greboli that I had cooked. He buried it in the garden because he didn’t want to eat his vegetables. He was only five solars for that one. And he wouldn’t tell us where he put it. I didn’t even know he could reach the stove!”

  “I was never that bad!” I say, trying to recall the moment they are referring too, certain that I’ve always been well behaved.

  “No, you were much worse,” my other sire says. “Your mother didn’t even get her favorite pot back until almost a lunar cycle later when the gardeners planted the tallas tree. There it was, plain as day, sitting in the ground full of rotted greboli. The gardeners were so confused.”

  Va’naar laughs so hard, he almost falls out of his chair. I grumble in irritation, but my dam pats my cheek.

  “But look at you now. You’re all grown up and matured into a fine, respectable male. You and your secondary are about to take a wonderful female as your mate. We couldn’t be happier for you.”

  “You tell that mate of yours that we do not accept returns,” my primary sire teases.

  “Quiet you!” my dam scolds as she pulls his ear. He whines loudly and raises his hands in surrender until she releases him. “I am so glad you haven’t turned out to be just like your sires.”

  I chuckle at the sight of them playfully cowering from my dam’s chiding comments while they struggle not to laugh. I love watching them tease each other. I want my family to be just as close as they are in thirty-five solars too.

  “Now, do you remember your lines?” she asks.

  “Of course, I am not a forgetful pup anymore. This is very important to me,” I reply with confidence. My hand squeezes the small note in my left pocket just to make sure it’s still there.

  “Good,” she says, checking the time on her data unit. “Because the ceremony is about to start.”