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  In the Corsair’s Bed

  As a pirate, I tend to hang out with unsavory outcasts at the edges of the known universe. I’m used to running into thieves, assassins and fugitives. It shouldn’t surprise me to see a forbidden human female for sale in the tunnels of the space station, but I hate it. When I see she’s near death, I have to act.

  I buy her.

  She spits in my face.

  It’s love at first sight.

  At least, it’s love at first sight on my end. I know it can never be, though, because I’m an ugly beast of an alien to her. The enemy. If only she knew just how many laws I’d be willing to break for one taste of her lips…

  In the Corsair’s Bed

  Ruby Dixon

  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 Corsair’s Captive

  Prison Planet Barbarian

  Want More?

  Ruby Dixon Reading List

  1

  TAREKH

  The busy hum of the cantina almost—almost—drowns out Alyvos’s sulking.

  Almost.

  My drinking partner stares at his refreshment bubble dispenser with a sour look on his hard face. “I still don’t see why they need to take time away.”

  Again with this? I’m an easy-going male but Alyvos’s fixation with the captain and his new mate is beginning to get on my nerves. “It’s like I said before, they’re newly mated. They want time alone together. It’s a human tradition.”

  “Yes, well, the captain is mesakkah, and we all know that humans are…” he pauses, as if realizing his audience isn’t receptive.

  I know what he wants to say. Humans are crude. Humans are half civilized. Humans are strange. I don’t know that he’s wrong, but I also don’t think he’s completely correct, either. From what I know of Fran, she seems clever, and she’s just as civilized as any mesakkah female in her way. Humans are strange, though. I can’t deny that. I just shrug and pluck one of his refreshment bubbles out of the air since he seems to be ignoring them. I pop it into my mouth and lick my fingers. “They’re happy. Leave them be.”

  “We should be pushing for another job,” Alyvos says, sliding his bubble dispenser out of my reach. “Squeeze a few more credits in.”

  I just snort at that. If there’s anyone who cares less about money in the crew of the Dancing Fool, it’s Alyvos. He’s ex-military and doesn’t see fit to spend his credits unless it’s an emergency. It’s not that he’s cheap, he just lives a very austere life and doesn’t see the point of good food, drinks, gambling, or females. You know, any of the fun stuff. Kef, even the refreshment bubbler he’s hiding from me I purchased for him because he seemed in a foul mood tonight. “Because you need more credits?” I tease him and then nod at the dancer on the stage. “Gonna shell out a few and try to get that one in your bed tonight?”

  Alyvos just glares at me and cracks his knuckles. He really is bringing the mood in this corner of the cantina down. Haal Ui is a mess of a space station on most days. It’s full of pirates and degenerates, thieves, whores and anything else that likes the shadowy fringes of society. Probably why it’s one of our favorite hangouts. It’s a mess, but in that mess, you can have a lot of fun.

  Here, no one seems to notice that Captain Sav Kivian Bakhtavis has a female human with him. Human slaves might be illegal in the Allied Federation of Worlds, but they’re pretty common in the dregs of society here. Reedy music begins to play and I glance up at the stage. A lithari female is gyrating up there while interested males watch her jiggle and bounce. They’re a little too placid-looking for my tastes, but the bouncing is rather attractive. I tear my gaze away from the fluid slide of her four teats and press a button to request a refill for my refreshment bubbler. “You kinda seem like you’re itching for a fight,” I point out. “And Bakhtavis ain’t here to fight.”

  Alyvos shrugs, glaring at his bubbler.

  “And it’d probably make Fran cry, and I know you don’t like that.” For all his sharp words, Alyvos likes the female. She’s a tough little thing. Kef, we all like her. Even Sentorr, who wouldn’t know how to relax if relaxing bit him on the tail.

  Alyvos just shakes his head. “It’s just not military to have slaves on board.”

  Ah. Alyvos gets touchy whenever something reminds him just how far he’s fallen from his military days. There are a lot of sore feelings there, and those usually explode out in a fistfight, and then Aly goes back to his normal surly self. Maybe that’s what all this griping’s about. He’s trying to pick a fight with me.

  Gonna be a long haul on that one, because I ain’t the type to pick a fight with my friends. I’ll have his back in a heartbeat, but I’m not gonna start slugging on him because he’s cranky. ’Sides, I’d probably mess up his pretty face with my fists. Aly’s in good shape, but I’m a monster. No one ever believes I’m just the medic on the Dancing Fool. They think I’m the muscle. Me and Aly both fill that role, though. Alyvos is a whiz with weapons. I’m just brute force. Together, we get shit done, though.

  Alyvos watches as a bubble rises from his refreshment station and then pops it, spilling his drink all over the table. “I don’t like it. Just feels wrong.”

  “Good thing you’re not the captain, then. You don’t have to like it. You just have to live with it,” I tell him easily. “And gimme your bubbler if you’re not going to drink, because that’s a waste of perfectly good brew. If you’re gonna be like this, you can go sit back in the ship with Sentorr.”

  He turns narrowed eyes on me, even as the music changes and a few more females join the lithari on stage. Alyvos hasn’t even peeked in their direction. He really is cranky. “How can you be so content with it? She’s going to get a share. She’s going to breathe our oxygen. Ship costs are going to go up. All so the captain can get his cock wet? How does that make you happy?”

  I shrug. “’Cause Bakhtavis is happy, and he’s a friend. And I like Fran. Or are you mad because she ate all your chski pickles?”

  “She did?”

  Whoops. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m sure we can get some more on the station here. Can get a lot of stuff, if you’re in the mood, and you’re not ugly like me.” I grin at a nearby female who’s wandering close to our table, probably drawn by Alyvos’s too-pretty features. She flinches backward at the sight of me, turning in the other direction. Yep. Typical female. I can get my cock wet if I need to, but I hate payin’ for a female to grit her teeth through a mating.

  I’d rather just drink.

  The music gets louder, and people start rising from their chairs to see what the females are doing on stage. The crowd suddenly seems a bit more chaotic, and my trained senses are immediately alert. “I just don’t see—” Alyvos begins, and then someone shoves his chair, knocking his hand into his bubbler and splashing the next serving all over the arm of his tuni
c.

  Ah, kef. Here we go.

  Alyvos’s eyes light up. He senses the fight he’s been wanting, and he jumps to his feet, fists at the ready, tail flicking. The kaskri that shoved his chair gives him a scathing look and then dashes off.

  Uh oh. Something tells me that wasn’t just an accident.

  Aly comes to the same conclusion. He pats his pocket and then snarls. “He got my credit chits.”

  Pickpocket. Now it’s not just Alyvos looking for a fight anymore. I get to my feet and tap the button to cash us out. “Go after him. I’ll follow.”

  He cracks his knuckles again, eyes ablaze with bloodthirsty enthusiasm. Alyvos winds through the crowd with single-minded determination, and even though a tall, horned mesakkah is easy to make out in this crowd, he disappears as I wait for the processor to cash out my table. I hate missing a fight, but I also don’t shit where I eat, and we do a lot of business at the Haal Ui cantina. I make sure we stay on the up and up with the owners, because they’ll look the other way at a lot of stuff, but not at stiffing ’em on the bill.

  The old, cranky machine chimes that I’ve paid, and then I grab one last refreshment bubble and swipe a hand over my mouth. Hope that idiot doesn’t start a fight without me. That’s no fun. I move my way out of the cantina, snarling at people when the crowd doesn’t part quickly enough. Then I’m free of the oppressive crowd, and the recycled air in the hallway feels like a keffing cool breeze after the humidity of the cantina. I glance around, but I don’t see Alyvos, just the usual lurkers in the dark halls of Haal Ui station. Couple of females loiter in shadowy doorways, looking to make extra credits. Two male sszt stand together, talking in low voices and eyeing the women. Farther down the hall, I can see a crowd watching something. Probably gambling, or fenced goods. Alyvos won’t be there. I slide a hand up my arm, activating my wristband, and then search for Alyvos’s bio-signal with my tracker. Farther down the hall. Looks like he’s heading toward the docks, and at a fairly fast pace. Chase must still be on.

  I head down the hall, my steps slow and steady. The whores glance over at me and I nod at them in greetin’, because I’m a nice keffing guy. “Ladies.”

  One looks appalled. The other lifts her chin. “Want a good time, friend? Tightest cunt in three systems, right here.” She grabs between her thighs.

  “’Preciate the offer, but I’m hunting down a friend. Maybe next time.”

  She winks at me as if we’re friends, but her expression shows a flicker of relief. Can’t say I blame her. I’m big, even for a mesakkah, and I’m not handsome. Her gaze is all business as she sizes up the next male to come out of the bar and I keep on going. I’ll let Aly get in a few punches before I try to break things up.

  I pass by the gamblers, clustered at one bend in the hallway, and keep on going. It’s almost as crowded out here in the snaking halls as it was in the cantina. Damn. I make a mental note to tell Kivian that the next time he wants privacy with Fran, maybe he picks a less busy time to hang out at the station. Two more bends later, I’m still not caught up with Alyvos and his thief, but I’m running into even more people. There’s another cluster of people, this one all males, and my hackles go up a bit. As I walk past, there’s a lot of low laughter and the men immediately move closer together as if they want to block my view. Someone gives me an ugly look when I walk a bit too close. Well now, that’s cute. They must be shoppin’ something that they don’t want competition on. Just to piss ’em off, I pause and pretend to look over the goods.

  Females. Probably slaves. I let my gaze wander over them as if I’m interested. Truth be told, I find it a pretty appalling way to make a living, taking other people’s rights away. Just because it’s legal on a lot of worlds doesn’t mean I have to agree with it. I let my gaze roam over the females as one is trotted forward in a neck collar and wrist-chains and nothing else. She shakes her teats at me and I’m reminded of the dancer back in the club.

  “Slaves for sale,” the ooli male holding a datapad and leaning against the wall tells the group. He sounds bored, scratching at his gut before eyeing the crowd. “Good prices. All kinds.”

  The naked female takes this as her cue. “Want to buy me?” she asks, so forward and unafraid. “I’ll never be able to tell you no.”

  My gut twists. I may be ugly, but I have standards. I smile at her, hiding my feelings. “’Fraid your price is outside of my credit limit, pretty one.”

  She smiles and turns around, shaking her bottom and showing her stubby tail off to buyers. The male next to me—another szzt—looks interested, and she saunters up to him, putting her arm around his neck.

  I push through the crowd of men, done here.

  Then, I pause.

  And take a few steps backward.

  As the female slave gyrates and teases the buyers, I notice for the first time that not all of the slaves look so enthusiastic to be bought. There are a few sitting along the wall, all the spirit gone from them. They’re nothing out of the ordinary when it comes to slaves, sadly enough, and I make a mental note to tell Kivian about this in case we can do something. Off in one corner, though, at the end of the line of slaves, there’s a huddled heap.

  There’s a flash of pinkish-golden flesh that reminds me of Fran, though. And that’s what makes me stop. Because if this guy has humans…I don’t know if I can walk past. Not since I know Fran like I do. I know that she’s a kind, funny, compassionate being, and I can’t help but see her in the shadows. I head over to the end of the line and kneel down.

  There’s a heap of delicate limbs, a little paler than Fran’s. But the structure is the same, and the facial features. Maybe I don’t know enough about humans, but they look alike to me. This one’s got a dirty brown mane instead of Fran’s dark one, but other than that, they could be sisters. This one is covered in bruises and half of her face is swollen. There’s a gash across one cheek that is crusted over and possibly infected. She doesn’t get up when I come over, her breathing shallow. Lacerations and bruises cover a lot of her naked body, to the point that I’m surprised I could tell by the coloration that she’s human at all.

  “Hello,” I say in the Earth tongue.

  No response. Perhaps she’s barely conscious. Either way, I can’t walk past and leave. I glance over at the bored slaver. “What’s the story behind this one?”

  He shrugs, typing something into his datapad. “Human. Sick one, though. They’re not very hardy creatures. Still got a tight cunt, though. You want a round?”

  “How much to buy her? Take her home with me?”

  The seller frowns. “You want to buy her? Friend, she doesn’t have much juice left in her. It’s a bad bargain on your half, and humans are expensive.”

  I shrug. “Humor me.”

  He names a price that’s more than I’ll make even with a year of pirating. Luckily, I have access to the credit account of the Dancing Fool in case of emergencies, and I haggle with him. She’s sick, after all. No one’s going to buy her in this condition. I might be the only interested buyer he gets. Surely he can come down on the price a bit more for an interested buyer.

  We go back and forth. I try not to look over at the female because that might convey my interest more than just as a curious bargain-hunter. Every instinct in me as a medic says that she needs immediate attention, though. Her wounds look infected, and as fragile as humans are, I’m not entirely convinced she doesn’t have a rib through a lung. Just the thought of someone keffing her while she’s this injured makes my brain boil with anger. By the time we agree to a price that would make Kivian reach for his blaster if he knew what I was spending, I’m ready to crack my knuckles like Alyvos and knock some heads together. It takes everything I have to calmly hand him my credit chip and wait for him to scan it. Then, the amount’s transferred into his account, he nods, and I’m given the electronic key to her cuffs and collar. “All yours, friend.” He’s doing his best not to smirk, clearly thinking I’ve made a fool’s bargain.

  Maybe I have. But the
medic in me can’t let this go.

  I move to the end of the line and touch the human’s shoulder. “You’re coming with me.”

  She looks up, her eyes glassy, and it takes a moment for them to focus on me. I notice her pupils are dilated. She must be in a lot of pain. Her mouth pulls back at the corners and I’m fascinated at the thought of her smiling at me—

  But then she spits in my face.

  The crowd laughs. I don’t care. I wipe the spit off my face and oddly enough, I’m smiling. If she’s got that much anger in her, she’s a fighter. “Can you stand?”

  Her eyes narrow at me and she doesn’t respond.

  All right, then. “I’m going to pick you up.” I slide my arms under her carefully and do my best to not harm her, but she feels more fragile and broken the moment I lift her. I can hear her suck in a breath and then she goes completely limp, passed out from the pain.

  I’m going to beat every keffing asshole that touched her. “Why’s she so messed up?” I ask the seller as I carefully cradle her in my arms. “You do know your merchandise will last longer if you take care of it.”

  The seller just snorts, not looking up from his datapad. “She’s not the friendliest type. But there’s people that pay for that kind of thing, and pay well.”

  All right. I’m going to take her back to the Fool, and then I’m going to come back here and choke the keffing daylights out of this one. “Gotcha.”

  I leave. I have to, or I’m going to murder him right here and right now, and I’ve got too much on my plate at the moment. I have to check on Alyvos to make sure he doesn’t need backup, and I have to fix my human. As priorities go, he’s lower on the scale. I make a mental note to come back later, and then I head down the hall, tracking Alyvos by his locator.