Pirate: Space Gypsy Chronicles, #1 (13 page)

“
I
can’t believe
you convinced me to take you onto the space station,” he grumbled.

Given Emma had won the battle, she totally rubbed it in. “That will teach you to argue with me. I told you I was coming with you. As if I’d let you get in the way of my first chance to see a real space station.”

“They’re really not that interesting. Cold. Damp. Kind of smelly too.”

“You can stop trying to dissuade me anytime now. I won. You lost, so suck it up, princess.”

“That is prince to you,” he said with a hint of a sneer.

She couldn't help but giggle at his indignant expression. “Prince? Maybe the prince on a can of pasta.”

“Even I know that’s supposed to be a chef on the pasta, not a prince. And you are intentionally distracting me again. Would you stop doing that?”

Sometimes Rafe was so easy to rile. It probably didn’t help that she did it on purpose because riling him provided its own form of entertainment, especially since he proved so frank about what he felt, such as his honesty about wanting her.

It flattered to know he was frustrated—
because of me
. Emma never had a guy try so hard, and she’d never fought so hard to resist.

Just like she fought tooth and nail to get onto the space station. Despite his warnings, she wouldn’t miss out on this chance. Emma wanted to see aliens—and not the kind determined to tear her into chunks. She wanted to experience everything this adventure had to offer.

Rafe kept saying she could never go home. If that were the case, then the sooner she adapted to her new life, the better for her. Adapting meant learning how to navigate space stations—which, she wondered, if they would end up as fantastical as those seen in movies—and what better way to start than with Rafe by her side? He was wide and would make a great shield to stand behind.

The waiting proved the hardest as they coasted in slowly to their assigned berth. In order to enter the station, first they had to connect the ship. The dock itself appeared as a long arm extending out from the boxy caterpillar body. According to Rafe, having numerous loading bays for all of the vessels just wasn’t feasible in some of the smaller places.

Some stations, he explained, had taken over large asteroids, building within the craters to create a network of tunnels and habitats. On those, ships could dock directly to the station. But on the more mobile stations, space came at a premium.

She could barely contain her excitement at the various clanging noises as the
Annabelle
anchored. They entered the antechamber, and to her surprise, Rafe didn’t motion for her to grab a suit.

“Don’t we need to get ready?” she asked as he punched in the code to the outer door.

“Not in the same way we did for the planet. The tunnel linking the ship to the station has oxygen and is pressurized.”

“Then what are you getting?” she asked as he opened a locker set within the wall.

“Have you already forgotten the first rule? Never go anywhere unarmed.”

She held out her hand.

A shake of his head and a snicker was his reply.

“Still worried I might use a weapon on you?” she asked.

“You wouldn’t kill me, but I’d rather you not accidentally cause an incident because of culture shock.”

Good point.

She watched Rafe as he slid a knife into each boot. He also strapped a longer one to his thigh. A pistol hung low from the holster on his other hip. Unlike her, he’d found better clothing, clothing fit for a pirate.

He wore a shirt for once, not wandering around with just his pants on taunting her with his deliciously muscled upper body. A shame because she did rather enjoy the visual feast he presented. Still, he looked very dashing. His white shirt billowed in pirate-like fashion, the impression enhanced by the fact that it sported an open collar with a thin string loosely laced. He’d tucked it into tight black breeches, which were then shoved into some ass-kicking boots, a big black pair. And that was the end to his gear.

She frowned. “How come you’re arming yourself to the teeth, and yet, you’ve got no body armor on? I mean, if this place is so dangerous, shouldn’t you wear some kind of futuristic bulletproof vest or something? Even the knights that used to exist back in the olden days on Earth wore tin cans over their bodies to try and protect them.”

Rafe arched a brow at her. “Are you seriously asking me why I’m not wearing armor? You do realize I’m a man, right? Men don’t wear armor. It’s just not done. Nor is it considered sporting.”

She couldn’t help but snort at his reply. “Not sporting? Weren’t you the guy who was telling me that I should stay on board and be safe if I want to live another day?”

“I did. And, once again, you seem to forget I am sexist and a hypocrite.”

At that, she couldn’t help but laugh, laughter that died as the door connecting the ship to the docking tunnel slid open. Rafe stepped through first, showing not the slightest hint of trepidation. Her racing heart couldn’t claim the same.

I asked for this.

She couldn’t chicken out now. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the tube and didn’t immediately die.

Point.

But that point could be short-lived. She regarded the patched walls with a bit of skepticism and ran her finger over one of the ragged ridges. “Is it me or does it look like somebody had to glue this thing back together?”

“I’d say this particular dock has probably been repaired more times than you can count. But the good news is the hatch would not have opened unless the tube was pressurized and filled with oxygen that we can breathe.”

Needing distraction, she latched onto what he said. “So we’re breathing oxygen? I gotta ask, I watched a lot of movies and I read a lot of books before actually embarking on this adventure. The one thing a lot of those sci-fi movies had in common was the fact the aliens all spoke different languages and they all breathed differently than humans. Yet, here you are, and not only do you look just like me—”

“I wouldn’t say that. I definitely don’t have tits.”

“You know what I’m getting at,” she snapped. “You look human. You act human. You speak perfect English. And you breathe the same air. Now, I know you tried to claim the Roman Eyes—”

“Rhomanii.”

“Whatever. The R’s might’ve been my ancestors, and I’m not even going to argue that point today. But you said it yourself. You are only one kind of species roaming about the galaxy. One. From what you’ve said, this space station is going to have all kinds of other aliens, different aliens, and here we are, about to go onto a space station not wearing any kind of breathing apparatus. Are you telling me that everybody on that space station breathes the same thing we do?” She really had to wonder because, despite all these innovative things she’d discovered on Rafe’s ship, the one thing he didn’t really have was books. Actually, there was a disturbing lack of reading material. Unless she counted the picture kind and what lay within those pages wasn’t the kind of culture she felt a need to learn about—although she did wonder if the women with six tits had been born that way or had a little work done.

Given Annabelle barely talked to her, Emma didn’t know what to expect—and what to believe. She noticed Rafe delighted in teasing her with extreme possibilities. Some true. Some defied logic. And asking for a straight answer just netted her more teasing. Jerk.

Several paces ahead of her in the tube, Rafe answered over his shoulder. “There is one thing Earth scientists have gotten right. Biological life, to a certain extent, requires specific building blocks. This is not to say that there are not other kinds of life, but if we are speaking biologically, which means flesh-based, then yes, there are certain things that are immutable. One of those, for some reason, is an oxygen-based mix for breathing.”

“We all breathe the same air? That’s good to know that I’m not going to suddenly walk in there and flop to the ground like a fish out of water.”

He chuckled, the soft sound brushing over her skin and making her shiver. “Be assured, you’re not going to die on me. Although the flopping that you described is a popular dance on the Qua’qia planet.”

Judging by his serious expression, he’d told the truth. Or had he? She kept staring until he laughed again. She accused him. “You’re screwing with me, aren’t you?”

He stopped before the hatch at the far end of the tunnel and turned a smirk her way. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m not.”

“You are not amusing.”

“Oh admit it. My teasing is fun. You enjoy it.”

Yeah. She did. A reluctant admission to herself that she did not confess to him. Emma wouldn’t inflate his head any further than it already was. But he was right about one thing. He did make her laugh.

He also makes me want to smother him with a pillow.

The end of the docking tube did not open at their arrival. An electronic panel beside the door blinked, the light yellow, not the red she would have expected. Then again, Rafe kept telling her to lose her expectations, Earth expectations.

Rafe placed his hand against the screen. It stopped flashing and shone with a steady brilliance before shifting to orange. Although nobody asked a question, Rafe spoke. “I am Ra’fhai Aba’ddon, captain of the vessel
Annabelle
. Requesting permission to enter.”

The last seemed kind of obvious.

A tinny voice emerged from the light pad. “State your business.” The English, while heavily accented, was recognizable.

“I’m here to refuel and pick up parts.”

“Where have you come from?”

“None of your business.”

“Who is your companion?”

Given Emma was tired of Rafe calling all the shots, she leaned forward and said, “Hi, my name is Emma. Emma of”—she looked at him and smirked—“New Mexico.”

“You idiot,” he hissed, and more loudly, “Ha. Ha, such a comedian my cousin is. Her name is Emma Aba’ddon. Related to me on my father’s side. She’s with me.”

Didn’t that have a ring of possessiveness to it? Apparently Rafe had yet to learn he didn’t own her. She might have to work for him until she figured things out, but that didn’t mean he was the boss of her. Okay, he was technically her boss. Still, that was for work, not her as a person.

The voice didn’t speak again, but there was a buzzing sound and then the crank of metal as the hatch door before them slid open. To her surprise and relief, they didn’t get sucked into the hole. Instead, with Rafe leading the way, she walked into a galactic version of Wonderland.

I think I should have stayed on the ship.

S
tepping
into the familiarity of the spaceport, Rafe spent a moment scanning the almost empty area, just another sign this way station was remote and not on any major trade routes, not any more.

Usually, the outer rim of the space station was always the busiest, as all the docking arms spilled into this general area. Only two dozen or so ships were docked, a tiny amount considering the available berths. The loss of the Lhavva galaxy when the star went super nova killed most of the business coming to Triple Cock—Rafe’s nickname for the place.

Still, a lack of ships didn’t mean the place was entirely empty. By some standards, it could even be considered busy—if you’d been raised in a small village, in a remote area. Various small groups of entities moved about, along with small lift vehicles carrying pallets and, in some cases, passengers who found too much walking a chore.

No one took immediate notice of them, always a bonus. While the way stations were supposed to be neutral zones, how neutral depended on those who owned and ran the joints.

Some space stations prided themselves on being bustling commerce centers, and as such, they allowed no untoward actions, not even robbery or murder. Other pit stops, however, succumbed to the lure of the mighty credit and turned a blind eye to things that happened in shadowy corners, things he sometimes played a part in.

Rafe wasn’t a stranger to the Triple Cock, having visited this station before. The current owner, according to rumor, wasn’t a strict rule enforcer, but he frowned on full-scale attacks and bombings—in other words, anything that might cost money to repair or affect the structural integrity of his domain. When it came to kidnapping, theft, and discreet assassinations, the Triple Cock owner tended to turn a blind eye, which meant Rafe should keep close watch. He’d not forgotten the bounty hunters on Earth or that trio of ships intent on attacking. Crimes of opportunity or something more? He hoped to find out from his informant.

To Rafe, everything appeared normal, business as usual, but his definition of normal wasn’t anything close to Emma’s. He couldn’t help but note the expression on her face as she took in her very first alien spaceport. Her eyes widened with wonder. Her lips parted on a gasp.

Had Rafe ever looked upon anything with such curiosity and delight? For a moment, he wondered what she thought. How did she see the things he took for granted? He had grown up with this. To him, this all seemed very normal and boring.

This is, but what of when I first arrived on her planet and saw the lushness of the land?
I can still recall the field I wandered into, the lush grass a spongy carpet under my feet, the air fragrant with sweet greenery.

He’d loved it, wanted to roll in that grassy field then dig it up and bring it on board to covet. Which was why he’d changed locations that very night to somewhere barren and dry.

Some might wonder why he would leave something he’d considered a veritable paradise. Because he had to. Because he was Rhomanii. A traveler. A man with no home and no roots. This simple fact meant that, one day, no matter how much he loved it, no matter how much this paradise planet called to him, Rafe would have to move on. His kind always moved on.

But sometimes I wish I didn’t have to.

He shook his head, shaking the maudlin whining free. Agitated by his own thoughts, he grabbed Emma by the arm, probably tighter than necessary. It seemed important he stake his claim, here and now, show those who cast glances his way just who she belonged to.
She’s mine.
It was stake a claim in public or toss her over a shoulder and cart her shapely ass back to the ship.

A knot in his gut proclaimed danger lurked, and not just for him, but her. Especially for Emma. It seemed the height of folly to have Emma out in the open, visible to the miscreants that surely lurked. A human, a prized Earth-born human, a lure to anybody who wanted to make money.

A delicacy for those who liked sweet and fresh meat.

A temptation to anything with a dick.

Admit it, you don’t want anybody else to touch her.

Of course he didn’t, at least not until he got a turn. He’d put in the time. If anyone got to taste her, it should be him, and he’d do it in a way that left her alive and not digesting in some alien’s gut.

Staking his claim was for selfish reasons—that was what he told himself—and yet, even he couldn’t deny the realization that he’d never before worried about a female companion. His mother? Sure. Sisters too. But they were family. He was expected to protect them. Emma, though, she was…an enigma to him.

An enigma he’d crack, just like he’d crack the other secret he’d set out to conquer.

At least no one knows what I have aboard.

“Stay close to me,” he muttered under his breath as he strode toward the nearest access tunnel leading into the belly of the station. “The last thing I need is for you to wander off. In a place like this, I might never find you again. Don’t make me waste my time looking for you.”

“I am not a child. I will not wander off or get lost.” She said it with bravado. As if she’d ever admit defeat.

Brave words and yet he noticed she stuck close to him. Perhaps she wasn’t as certain of her decision to check out the place. Too late now.

Returning her to the ship might prove riskier. Her presence would have been noted. The defense on his ship was top notch, when working. Problem was he couldn’t rely on it, just like he couldn’t rely on his computer. He truly had to wonder about his AI’s mental health.

I swear Annabelle got infected by some kind of worm from that damnable Internet.
She’d gotten much too big for her circuits, and he needed to rein her back in. He really needed to speak to the mechanics about her current attitude and takeover of his vessel.

She might have gotten us through that wormhole, but I don’t know if I like her just ignoring my commands.
Just like he didn’t like Emma’s ability to make him ignore his better judgment.

Bringing her onto the station and showing her off was a bad idea. He’d probably have to fight to keep her.

He could use the exercise.

An extremely jointed Lorffn rotated his red head to continue looking at Emma as it passed by. Rafe ensured it noted his hand resting on the blaster at his hip. He patted it and smiled, a full-toothed grin that said,
Bring it
.

The Lorffn declined the invitation and faced forward. A shame.

Maybe Rafe should nudge her out into the open and see if anything took the bait. Best to get it out of the way early and remind any others who got ideas why they should abstain.

Emma clung to his side and whispered, “I feel like everyone is looking at me.”

“And how would you know? Are you looking at them?” he countered.

“I’m not staring.” She paused. “Much. But I mean, come on, have you seen some of these guys? They’re like something out of a Hell movie.”

“Ah yes, those monsters your media depicted as demons. A nice race for the most part, but they do have a thing for human women. And the women love them. Something about extra shit happening at the head and base of their cocks. It supposedly stimulates a woman’s clitoris and interior sweet spot at the same time.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you seriously talking about that out here?” She slapped his arm. “That is totally inappropriate.”

“Oh, come on, admit it. You’d want to know. It’s what everyone wonders at one point when they meet another race. Even I’m not immune.”

“That’s because you’re a man. Men are programmed to see everything in terms of sex. As in can I or can’t I?”

“I always do. Eventually.” Wink. “But keep in mind, the fact that I’m patient doesn’t mean everyone you encounter in here will be. There are people you really should avoid. They might seem nice at first and feed you pretty lies, but don’t fall for it. Out here, people seldom do things because they’re nice. There is a price. There’s always a price.”

“If you’re trying to scare me, it’s working.” She glued herself closer. “This is a bit more intense than I expected.”

“And yet you begged to come.”

“Of course I did. I won’t get anywhere hiding myself. I have to learn to handle myself in this new public eventually.”

“I guess there are worse places we could have tested your first excursion. At least if it comes to a fight out, we won’t have as many forces arrayed against us.”

“You think it might come down to a fight?”

“I should hope so. A pirate’s reputation wouldn’t be complete without one. Add in a sexy woman—”

“You calling me sexy?”

“Are you fishing for compliments?”

She tossed her head in reply.

He almost laughed. Best not show the wench she amused him. She probably already knew.

“Are you taking note of the area we’re docked in?” he asked, changing the thread of the conversation. They’d almost reached the access tunnel, and it occurred to him that, perhaps, he should teach her some of the fundamentals of spaceport survival.

“If by take note you mean the Roman numeral above the door we came out of, then yes.”

“Glad to see you peeked. Now also make sure you memorize this one.” He angled his head towards the arch.

“I’m looking at it, but that symbol won’t be as easy to remember.”

“Try because, if you need to find the ship, you don’t want to take the wrong tunnel and end up somewhere you shouldn’t.”

“How about if I just stick close to you?”

“Good plan. I’ll protect you.” His chest swelled.

So she pricked it. “Let’s hope you can since you were too pussy to let me have something to defend myself with.”

“I’d say your tongue is sharp enough.”

“Actually”—she whirled and leaned in, her warm breath brushing his skin—“it’s very wet and wild.” She uttered a husky laugh.

“That was wicked.” He shook his head. “And cruel. You are a tease.”

“So are you.”

“Ah, but the difference is I’m not holding back. I’m ready and willing to go all the way.”

“Good for you. Now, what about if I can’t find those symbols? How will I find my way back?”

“I thought the plan was to stick together.”

“It is. But”—she shrugged—“you never know. Shit happens. I mean, have you seen what’s happened so far? Expect anything. Or expect the worst. Then you won’t be so shocked.”

A funny speech that he noted was uttered with excitement. The wench wanted some excitement. How perfect was that? “If we do happen to get separated…” Because he’d lost his head, literally. “See those screens by the arches?” He pointed to a pulsing yellow square. “They also serve as maps because these stations can get confusing, especially as many of them have been added to over the years. Just ask it to find our docking bay.”

“Got it, Captain.” She presented a mock salute. “Now that we’re here, where do we have to go first?”

“We need some parts. Lots of parts or I’ll never hear the end of it from my ship.” A ship that also needed a machine equivalent of a lobotomy. Some personality was nice, but too much was a problem.

“I’ve noticed Annabelle is rather opinionated.”

“Yet she’s not supposed to be. I blame the Earth’s Internet.”

Emma giggled. “You should have used some parental controls.”

“But then I couldn’t have surfed my porn.” He winked.

The wench giggled even louder, very cute, and yet it veered too many gazes their way.

“Quiet down, you’re drawing attention.”
Keep it up
. His fingers were itchy. No one gave him any sport. Pity.

“Sorry, Captain.” Snicker. “So where do we buy the ship parts?”

“First, the repair shop then the marketplace. Never know what you might find or get for a steal.”

“Speaking of steal, I’m surprised you’re willing to leave the ship like that,” she said. “I mean, you didn’t actually lock the door on it or anything, which begs the question, can you lock the door of a UFO?”

“And it’s that kind of talk that’s going to give away the fact you’re not from around here.”

“Well, maybe if someone would have taught me more than the fact gypsy dudes from space are always horny then we wouldn’t have to have these talks in public.”

She did have a point, and he grudgingly admitted it. “I guess it’s past time you began to learn more about the cultures you’re going to encounter.” Kind of late now and partially his fault. The ship was not designed to teach. The things he had to keep himself entertained weren’t in a language she could understand. The ones with pictures would enhance only one aspect of her education.

“How am I going to learn? Is there like some implant we can buy that will make me instantly learn all kinds of stuff?”

“No. Yes.”

“Which one is it?”

“No, there’s no implant that can tell you everything. That kind of overload tends to fry a brain.” And yet the scientists kept trying. “But yes, there is one that can help with languages. We should probably get you one of those because, while most folks have the implant and thus can speak galactic English—which by the way, we totally began on Earth—there are some who are purists and will refuse to do anything but speak in their birth tongue.”

“Will an implant teach me Spanish? My teacher used to say if I got dumped in a Spanish-only-speaking village I’d starve before I learned to speak it.”

“You won’t need Spanish, but you will learn Chinese. It’s the second biggest common language, other than English.” Their symbol alphabet, too, was eerily similar.

“So if I can’t have a super cool implant that makes me super smart, then how will I learn the rest?”

“Books and maybe a few programs we can throw on the computer. While we are at the market, we’ll look into getting you some literature. Something to get you to lose that wide-eyed-girl-from-Earth look.”

“Can you blame the look? I mean, come on…” She leaned in close and whispered, “We just passed a purple blob. With like a hundred eyeballs.”

“That blob, as you called it, is actually a shapeshifter. Those of that race can assume any form they like.”

“And he chose that?” Her nose wrinkled.

“She, which is distinguished by her mauve color, chooses that form because it allows her to pass unmolested by groping hands and gives her a 360-degree view.”