Corsairs - Straik (Corsair Brothers 3) - Page 2

I hadn't counted on the cargo hold being full of slaves. Of humans and gladiators, all waiting in stasis pods, ready to be sold. Nor had I counted on four witnesses—three humans and a keffing qura'aki of all things—who knew the entire sordid tale of how the Star came to be carrying slaves. How the crew—my family's crew—had been using the slaves as bed-warmers.

My stomach lurches and I grit my teeth.

So I left them all behind. Snuck out during sleeping hours to try and figure this mess out. This way, I know where everyone is, and I am the only one. This way, no one can go rogue and spread the information to others. The humans can't be sold. The ship can't be hauled away by other pirates and scrapped. The va Sithai brothers will be furious at me, but I don't care.

I need to speak to Lord va'Rin, the head of my family's house. I need to understand this. All of this.

And once I've figured out my course of action, I'll return to the Star and take care of business.

With that little pep talk, I dry my sac and climb into my oversized bed…and just as quickly climb out again. Keffing silken sheets. I should ask if we have anything less…ostentatious. I won't be able to sleep in luxury until I figure my head out.

2

RUTH

I gaze down at the alien drying his balls from inside the air vents above his room.

I've watched him for days now. Sulky, pouty brat of a lordling. I hate him. Just like I hate this ship. And outer space. And every single alien. Well…almost every single alien. The red-skinned a'ani are nice enough.

I keep utterly quiet, hunched in the crawlspace in the ceiling above as he lies down in bed, makes a face, and then gets up again. After a moment, he lies on the floor instead, and I want to roll my eyes at his martyrdom. Please. Does he think that's going to ease his conscience from leaving the others behind?

I hate lots of things, but I hate this Straik asshole most of all.

Ever since I woke up from the stasis sleep, I've been filled with rage. Rage at the asshole aliens that groped me like I belonged to them. Rage at the fact that I've been stolen from my planet, along with the other frightened women. Rage that my head is full of fragments instead of whole memories. I'm angry at everything, and I don't know if I was like this back on Earth, too, or if the rage is because sleeping did something to my head and now I can't remember things that I should.

My current favorite thing to rage at? That while I was conducting a spy mission on the enemy ship, it took off. Just left the others behind and stole me away while I was hiding in the ducts.

I've been hiding in these ducts for almost a week now, and it hasn't helped my mood at all.

But I know how to survive. Cautiously, I extend one leg out, stretching it from my cramped position, and I wince when the thin metal creaks and groans. A quick glance down into Straik's palatial rooms shows that he's noticed, too. He gazes up at the ceiling thoughtfully, his hands behind his horned head. He frowns up at my precise location, and I wonder if he can see me. I entertain thoughts of busting through the honeycomb-like grates (somehow) and pouncing on him and just beating the crap out of his pouty face.

"Ship," the lordling calls out.

"Yes, Lord Straik?" the computer chirps out, sounding like a woman eager to please her man. Barf.

"Make a note for maintenance to check the ductwork in the morning." He yawns. "And for them to change the filters." With that, he closes his eyes again and turns on his side, using his arm as a pillow as he sleeps on the floor.

Well, so I'm safe for another day. Tomorrow I'll have to deal with maintenance, but that's Dopekh, and I can handle Dopekh. I gaze down at the comfortable room below. The bed is enormous and looks incredibly soft, the sheets tangled and inviting. I watched him bathe earlier, too, and all that scented water made my mouth water as well as it made me aware of just how dirty I am. The Star didn't have bathtubs. It had these molecule things that blasted you clean, but it wasn't very refreshing. But that water…

I wonder if I could sneak into his room while he's elsewhere and bathe. I like the thought of leaving a grimy ring around his tub and him scratching his chin at the sight…but then he'd probably figure out he's got a stowaway.

So that's out.

Even so, I look at the bath longingly. Sinking into all that hot water looks amazing. I itch at my dirty skin—I'm covered in dust from the ducts—and then I inch my way along, leaving the bad guy's luxurious room behind. After seeing him bathe, I'm thirsty and my throat feels scratchy. I crawl along carefully toward the spot I located a few days ago—where one of the pipes that chugs along with the strange engine drips condensation. The cup I have under the drippy spot is half full, and I pick it up and choke the contents down. Mmm, metal.

Tags: Ruby Dixon Corsair Brothers Fantasy
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