Mated to the Alien Pirate: Celestial Mates

by Leslie Chase

  “And if you think you can match me, get a fighter and we’ll settle this in space,” Vissa added, looking down her nose at me. “I’ll not let someone disrespect my skills.”

  I shook my head quickly — picking a fight with her looked like a bad enough idea in person, let alone in a fighter I had no idea how to fly.

  She looked at me for a long moment then nodded, apparently satisfied. “Fine then. So what are you going to bring to our hunt?”

  “I’m an accountant,” I blurted out. Another laugh from Vissa, mocking this time. My cheeks burning, I glared. “Hey, you want your pay to be worth something don’t you? I can help with that. I can work out how to get the most for prizes.”

  She shrugged. “I fight for honor, not for money.”

  Yeah, right. You’re a pirate, you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want money. I didn’t say it aloud though. I’d already offended the birdwoman once, and I didn’t want to risk it again. There didn’t seem to be many women on the crew of the Revenge, and if I had to share a room with someone, I’d rather not be with the guys.

  No, if I was honest I wished it was Arrax. The thought of sharing his room — his bed — made me squirm, but I’d made my choice. I needed to understand what had brought him here before I told him he was my mate. If that was even true; how much should I trust the Celestial Mates system?

  When I didn’t answer, Vissa’s lips quirked into a smile again and she shook her head. “Whatever. You’re crew, and you’re my roommate. That means I’ll take you under my wing, so cheer up. We’re going to go find a drink, introduce you around, and let everyone know that I won’t let them mess with you.”

  I wanted to sleep far more than I wanted to drink, let alone meet more bloodthirsty pirates. But it wasn’t a request, and I really, really didn’t want to annoy the pirate who’d decided to keep me safe. If there was one thing I needed on this ship, it was friends. With a groan, I pulled myself back to my feet and nodded.

  “Okay, you’re the boss. Which way?”

  Back out into the corridor and off we went. Everywhere I looked I saw signs of makeshift repairs, patched wiring, loose panels. Half of the ship looked like it had been patched together from parts that didn’t fit, and I shuddered as I saw an air recycler lying in pieces on the decking.

  “Ah, don’t worry about it,” Vissa said, grabbing my arm and pulling me along. “I’ve been on worse ships and lived. Trust me, in this life it’s not the ‘cyclers failing that kills you.”

  I winced, wondering what kind of person took that as reassurance.

  At last she pulled me into a cargo bay which the pirates had converted into something like a bar. Music played through surprisingly good speakers, the sound clear and pure even if I didn’t understand the words. The music choice was odd, too: a calm, beautiful melody.

  I didn’t know what I’d expected the pirates to listen to, but this wasn’t it.

  More pirates moved out of our way — really, out of Vissa’s way. While Raxa commanded respect, the way the other pirates ducked aside when Vissa approached showed that they were frightened of her.

  Another reason to stick close.

  “Vissa!” Another birdlike alien bounced up from her seat and almost leaped over to greet us. The same species as Vissa, I saw right away, though this one was taller, skinnier, and a lot drunker.

  Vissa rolled her eyes. “Trin, behave yourself. This is our new roommate, Marcie. She’s joining the crew.”

  She pronounced my name with deliberate slow care and Trin nodded at me, making a peculiar fluttering gesture in my direction. I waved back, feeling awkward. The room wasn’t crowded, but everyone stared in my direction and I wanted to melt into the floor.

  Sure. Join the pirates. Great idea, Marcie. I shook my head. No point in worrying about it — especially since I didn’t have a better idea. Heading back to Earth was suicide.

  Not that staying here was much safer. My life had fallen apart, I’d lost almost everything I owned, and I’d fallen in with a gang of pirates. The hungry looks I saw from the men made me realize just how few females were aboard. I’d only seen three, the birdwomen and Raxa. A dozen male pirates leered at me, and the hunger in their eyes wasn’t subtle.

  With Arrax, that hunger had woken an answering need in me. These men just made me uncomfortable, and I shrank back, trying to put Trin and Vissa between myself and them. Between them and the captain’s ambiguous claim on me, perhaps I’d be protected.

  Vissa looked at me, frowned, then back at the room. She hooked her thumbs through her belt near her longest knives as she jumped up on a table, glaring down at the men.

  “This one’s my new roommate,” she said. “That means she’s under my protection. Don’t mess with her.”

  Intimidating as the was, I didn’t expect the roomful of violent men to listen to her. For a moment the room fell still aside from the hauntingly calm music playing over the speakers, but then they turned back to their drinks and ignored me as though I wasn’t there. I blinked in surprise.

  “They can’t afford to lose us, we’re the only fighter pilots,” Trin said in what she obviously thought was a whisper. “Doesn’t matter if they can break us in a fight, they need us and they know that Vissa won’t back down.”

  In that case, I promised myself, I’ll stick close to my new roommates.

  “Thanks,” I said to the two pilots. Vissa snorted, shaking her head as though she hadn’t stuck her neck out for me. She dropped back down to face me.

  “I’m an honorable xil warrior,” she said, as though that explained everything. Perhaps it did.

  Trin grinned and shoved a glass into my hand. “If you’re one of us, then you’ve got to drink with us. Happy flights and big explosions!”

  Not a toast I’d have gone for, but right now I’d drink to anything. Knocking back the glass, I swallowed quickly and coughed as the liquid burned my throat. Someone laughed as I struggled for control, and something inside me snapped. Slamming the glass down, I gestured for the four-armed barman to pour me another.

  I might not be able to outfight a single one of these assholes, but I had my pride. I’d at least try to outdrink some of them. Getting blackout drunk had an appeal right now.

  “Smooth,” I commented, forcing a smile. Trin grinned happily, getting her own refill.

  More pirates filed in as we drank, and the room spun as the booze took effect. Whatever this drink was, it made up for in strength what it lacked in subtlety.

  Vissa sipped her drink, keeping more of an eye on the room than on us. Trin alternated between drinking and telling stories so ludicrous that even I knew she was making them up. When I called her on it, she acted offended just long enough to frighten me before falling off her seat, laughing wildly.

  “So this is the new killer we’ve hired on.” Another glass hit the table. Zarr sat down in the seat Trin had vacated, and I found myself face to face with him.

  Tall, green-skinned, and muscled like a weightlifter. Scars crisscrossed his chest. His bare chest. I didn’t blame him for not wearing a top, not with that body to show off. Hard abs rippled as he snatched the bottle and poured another drink for each of us.

  He would have been attractive if it wasn’t for the dead eyes and the cold, deadly calculation in them as he looked at me. I shivered, sobering abruptly, and left my glass sitting on the table.

  “Leave her alone, Zarr,” Vissa said, tone as sharp as the knife that appeared in her hand as though by magic. “She’s the captain’s.”

  “Sure. The captain gets what he wants.” Zarr said, projecting so the whole bar would hear. “He sees a female he likes, he snatches her for himself. But what do the rest of us get out of that, huh?”

  He slammed back his drink and poured another, watching me closely.

  “I’m part of the crew now, not a prize,” I objected. It sounded weak, even to me. Perhaps I should have stopped there, but I didn’t. “I’m your accountant. I’ll make you all so much money, you’ll see.”

/>   Zarr laughed, refilling my glass before lifting his. The challenge in his eyes was unmistakable, and I felt the other pirates watching. If I wanted to fit in, backing down wasn’t an option.

  Sick of this shit, I grabbed my drink and knocked it back. He chuckled as we slammed our glasses back to the table. Someone cheered.

  The whole bar was watching now. Great. I focused on not coughing as he poured again. I’m not going to let him bait me into doing something stupid, I told myself, wondering if I’d already gone too far for that. There was a trap here and I had to get out before Zarr sprung it.

  Fine. Next drink I pretend to pass out. Maybe they laugh at me, but the contest’s over.

  “The rest of us risk life and limb getting the goods and you help sell them, and the captain thinks that gives you a right to an equal share of our booty?” Zarr’s grin was mocking, and he shook his head. There were mutters around the room as he continued. “Vissa and Trin, each time they launch they could die. The boarding parties? We get shot at, stabbed. Raxa lost her arm in one, and I’ve got my scars. What do you risk? Eyestrain? Captain Arrax is mad or lust-crazed to let you onto our crew — or he’s using you to scam us out of another share so he can keep it, and you, for himself.”

  White hot anger shot through me and I sat forward, glaring at him. It wasn’t the insult that pissed me off, but he used me to attack Arrax. I wasn’t about to let him get away with that.

  “Fuck you,” I shouted, throwing the glass in his face. Strong-smelling booze splashed everywhere, and the room went silent. “I’m not a coward, and I’ll prove it.”

  Around us, the pirates held their breath. I barely noticed them. Zarr stared at me, eyes burning, and I half expected him to lunge at me across the table. Vissa might or might not intervene — I had picked this fight after all.

  But apparently I wasn’t done talking yet. “I’m coming on the next raid. I’ll show you I can pirate with the best of you.”

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. Not because of the rash promise as much as the feral, hungry grin that spread across Zarr’s face. All around me the room cheered, and Vissa clapped me on the back. Apparently I’d said the right thing to make friends.

  Now I just had to survive it.

  Bright light hit me and I groaned, wrapping an arm around my face. Last night was a blur, a painful one, and my head felt like someone had decided to use it as a punchbag. I groaned as bits and pieces of memory came back.

  Trin and Vissa showing some kind of xil knife dance, stalking around each other with their feathers raised and a blade in each hand. Elisan, one of the assault crew, bringing me his spare blaster and insisting I borrow it.

  And Zarr, watching it all, soberer than he had any right to be. The memory of his cold eyes on me hit like a bucket of ice water to the face and I forced my eyes open.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  Someone pulled me up and my eyes fluttered reluctantly open. Trin grinned at me, no trace of sympathy in her expression.

  “That’s it, up and at ‘em,” she said, annoyingly chipper despite the amount she’d had to drink. “Can’t miss your first launch window.”

  I grumbled and shook her off, stumbling into the tiny cramped shower off the bunk room. A minute later, feeling almost human, I came back through. More memories crept back into my mind, and I looked at Elisan’s pistol belt unhappily.

  “Where’s Vissa?”

  “Making her blood offering to her fighter,” Trin said. “I’ll have to rush mine, but I promised her I’d help you get into your airshield. Someone’s got to help you or you’re not even going to reach the Crimson Feast.”

  I swallowed and nodded. It was too late to back out now.

  The webbing she handed me was covered in fine silver wires and fitted over my clothes. It fit poorly, but Trin fussed with the adjustable straps and eventually she declared herself satisfied. I looked down at myself, dubious. The wires which would generate a protective forcefield ran along my arms and legs, around my torso, up to a thick collar at my neck. The pack containing the power supply sat on my back, surprisingly heavy, and the controls were on my wrist. Gloves and boots anchored the end of the system, protecting my extremities.

  “Won’t I need a helmet?” I asked, while Trin fussed over the wire netting on my back, making sure it was properly distributed.

  “The collar generates a bubble for your head,” she said, stepping around me and looking me up and down. I felt ridiculous. Some space pirate.

  My t-shirt still said ‘Welcome to Earth’ in bright, eye-searing colors. At least my jeans were reasonably practical, and the boots fit better than I’d have expected. But I wasn’t going to inspire terror in anyone.

  Maybe I can paralyze the enemy with laughter? I tried to smile, but it felt unconvincing. Oh well. At least they’ll underestimate me.

  Trin double checked everything, and I tried to follow what she did. With luck I’d never need to put this on again, but if I did, I wanted to be able to do it alone.

  “There, all good,” she said at last, smiling. “All you need is a blade to go with that pistol and you’re set for your first raid. Skyfather watch your kills, may they be many.”

  She made a strange gesture to her forehead, curiously formal. I stood awkwardly and chewed my lip. What have I gotten myself into?

  Whatever it was, I’d gone too far to back out now. Either I went through with the raid or I’d be labeled a coward forever by the crew. And if there was one thing I wanted to avoid on this trip, it was disappointing Arrax.

  I blinked. Where’d that thought come from? But it was true, for some reason the pirate captain’s opinion mattered. Apparently it mattered more than my own safety, because there was no way I’d back out and let him down.

  Oh god I’m so stupid, I thought as I buckled on the gun belt. The pistol’s weight settled on my hip and I swallowed, looking at the xil warrior.

  “So, uh,” I started, then paused. Trin raised a feathery eyebrow and waited until I tried again. “Can I borrow a knife from you?”

  She nodded, a quick movement that reminded me of a bird, and pulled a long knife from her belt. “I’ll be in my fighter for the raid, so you can take this. Be careful with it. It belonged to my mother, she forged it from the hull of her first fighter.”

  I swallowed. That seemed a lot to trust me with, and my fingers trembled as I took the weapon from her hand. The knife was as long as her forearm, heavy with a dark hilt. Somehow it comforted me. I might not know how to use a blaster, but at least with a knife the basics were simple. Pointy end goes in the bad guy.

  “I’ll bring it back safe to you,” I promised. “Thank you.”

  Her smile reappeared and she tapped my forehead with a finger. “You’d better, girl. Lose my mother’s knife and I’ll take it out of your hide.”

  I didn’t know whether to take that as a threat or a joke, so I nodded seriously. Trin watched, her large eyes gleaming, and then shrugged.

  “I’ve got to go make my offerings. You get to the port airlock and meet the boarding party. Good hunting, may the Skyfather send you rich prey, all that stuff.”

  She spun on her heel and ran out the door before I had a chance to reply. Shouting thanks after her, I made my way forward looking for the airlock.

  The Atreon’s Revenge felt different this morning. The corridors were empty and silent, and the vibration of the engines carried through the decks was faster, more urgent. There was something in the air, a sense of danger and purpose, that had been lacking on my first walk through these tight corridors.

  It was infectious, and by the time I found the airlock my pulse raced. I tried to put on a tough expression as I stepped into view of the boarding crew.

  The corridor was full of pirates, silent tension hanging in the air. Some huddled together, others sat apart. A few prayed to their gods, and one spoke to a floating camera, recording a message for his sweetheart.

  I swallowed, the reality of the situat
ion sinking in. Whatever happened once the raid started, some of these people might die. I might die.

  Zarr turned and spotted me. Perhaps he meant his grin to look friendly, but it reminded me of a cat spotting a mouse. “I see you made it, Marcie. Good. I was afraid you’d back out.”

  “No way,” I said, trying to sound confident despite the butterflies in my stomach. Butterflies? More like bats, big ones. But I wasn’t about to show my fear. “I said I’d be here, and here I am.”

  Now all I have to do is live through the next few hours. Easy.

  8

  Arrax

  This time there was no waiting in zero-gee. We were late to the party and the Crimson Feast was already at the jump point when we arrived. I stood on the bridge, watching the transition to realspace and grinning at the display.

  The Crimson Feast was exactly where I’d expected, hanging in front of the nebula like a fruit ripe for the plucking. Their captain saw us as soon as we arrived, turning to run, but a ship that size had no chance of outdistancing the Revenge.

  “Channel open,” Raxa announced, and the screen in front of me flickered to show the captain of the Feast, his flat face set in a scowl. An Antaran, green scales gleaming and oiled.

  “Back off,” he snapped as soon as the channel cleared. “You know who I work for, yeah? Get any closer and we’ll gut you. Even if you win the fight, my bosses’ll hunt you down wherever you go.”

  I smiled my best scary smile, resting my hands on my hips and looking straight at the camera. A big part of the job of a pirate captain was showmanship — left to my own devices, I wouldn’t have bothered talking to a man like this, but if I talked him into surrendering I’d save lives on both sides.

  Protecting my crew was worth the effort of putting on a show.

  “I am Captain Arrax of the Atreon’s Revenge,” I said, “and your threats don’t bother me. I’ve killed scarier men than you. I’ve taken their ships. And when their employers came after me, I took their ships too. If you want to live, you’ll power down your engines and surrender your vessel now. I’ll spare you and your crew.”