Page 13 of Pirate's Gold

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Swallowing, Terri nodded to demonstrate that she understood exactly what her position was just seconds before she was dropped to her feet. She was pleased that she didn’t stumble, despite how heavy her legs felt from being hauled through the ship by her arms. She did, however, straighten her back and meet the captain’s gaze unwaveringly. It was a shame that he was no longer the sniveling, pompous male who Veral was complaining about only yesterday. The cold eyes of a killer stared right back at her, though his lips curved slightly at her show of bravado. She knew that he was aware of the conflict brewing within her.

As much as she wanted to tell the captain to go suck the biggest dick on the ship, she wasn’t stupid. Since she couldn’t join her mate in his cell, staying in this cabin was her only real option. The last thing she wanted was to be at the mercy of crew members who would do the barest to toe the line of whatever orders were issued by the captain. There was a lot of flexibility in regard to what lengths of unpleasantness they could get away with before the captain deemed it crossing the line. That meant that she would have to play by the captain’s rules, however much she hated it. It was better than option two.

Sweeping one arm out, Egbor pressed his hand on a panel and opened the door. At the same time, his lower hand closed around her arm and yanked her forward, ahead of him, into the room. Terri stumbled forward a few steps but drew to a stop as she stared at her surroundings. Although possessing simple lines and sparse furnishings, everything in the room was far more luxurious than anything she had ever seen before. Compared to the filth of the rest of the ship, this was surprising. Her mouth hung open at the polished desk that sat in one corner as the captain steered her toward a chair and sat her down on it.

Leaning forward, his nostrils flared as he met her gaze with a steely regard. “I have been utilizing this room as my personal office. Be aware that all the drawers are keyed to me. You will not get anything out of my desk, and if you damage it by attempting to break into it… well, it has been passed down through my family for generations and I will find a way of taking its value out of your hide. Your mate was fond of rules. Here are some rules for you, and I suggest you heed them well. Rule one: do not try to leave this room. You are locked in, but do not get it into your head to attempt to escape in any clever method that may occur to you. You will fail and only bring my wrath down upon you. Rule two: as I said before, I expect silence. Any attempts to disturb my rest will be dealt with harshly. Rule three: I do not know what condition your species lives in on your homeworld, but you will not soil or otherwise destroy this room. There is a waste receptacle. I expect it to be used.”

He straightened and smiled. “Now, I suggest that you rest. I will send someone to collect you to join me for evening meal.”

“I would rather not,” she muttered before she could stop herself.

His retaliation with immediate. A red-flushed hand swept down to curl around the neckline of her shirt as he lifted her nearly off her feet. Only her toes just barely had contact with the floor when he leaned down and growled threateningly in her face.

“It was not a request. I will see you fed and guarded. You can at very least provide me some amusement during the evening meal. If you enjoy eating, I suggest that you do so. If you refuse to eat with me, then you will not be eating at all. It is still several diurnal cycles until we arrive planetside, where you might have an opportunity to forage.”

“Is that rule four?” she squeaked. Her mouth was suffering from such a disconnect with her brain that must have had a death wish.

His nostrils flared again, but he smiled and dropped her back down into the chair. “Indeed. Rule four.”

He reached out a hand as he stared down at her. One of his goons stepped forward and handed him a cleansing cloth. Egbor’s eyes narrowed on her as he wiped each of his hands off as if he had touched something filthy.

She tamped down the offense that immediately sprung forward. No. It was a good thing if he thought of her as an unclean burden. She didn’t want him to have any interest in her outside of how he might use her to manipulate Veral.

“Be sure to use the cleansing unit before you join me for evening meal. You will forgive me if I do not trust the hygiene of a salvager and his primitive mate.” He snorted to himself in amusement. “I will send someone in with proper items for a female.”

She would have asked him how a pirate ship had anything suitable for a woman, but he walked away without another word. Despite her gnawing curiosity, she didn’t call after him. Instead, her body sagged with relief when the door closed behind him. From the chair, she allowed her gaze to wander. It didn’t take long before she became restless enough to start poking around her surroundings. Just as he promised, everything on the desk was locked, as well as a nearby cabinet.

She had only just started really exploring the room as she tossed a couple of drawers filled with spare clothing and random items of no value to her when the door opened again to reveal at brilliant orange Blaithari. The female’s four breasts were small but visible beneath her tight uniform, her dark hair pulled into a high knot at the back of her head, the remaining length trailing down her back. Her eyes were a very pale yellow, almost colorless, as they regarded Terri with icy detachment.

“The captain had me bring these things for you, female,” she rasped.

The rough sound of her voice was so at odds with almost musical tones of the other Blaithari that it startled Terri, drawing her attention to the female’s face. The Blaithari grimaced under inspection, her throat working as she choked back whatever retort she was going to fire at Terri’s head. It was then that a thick network of scars lacing the female’s throat were clearly visible.

“Quite staring, beast,” she snarled as she foisted a bag into Terri’s arm. “These are for your use. Be grateful. It is far more than any other would receive as captive on boardThe Black Star.”

Returning her attention to the other female’s face, away from the scars, Terri clutched the bag to her chest. “Thank you, uh…”

The female snorted rudely and squinted at her. “Azan. I suppose that you need to know it since Egbor is making me responsible for your welfare. Never known him to care so much about the comfort of a female in his life,” she scoffed. “You must be something special… A rare pet? A princess? Yours is a peculiarly ugly species if you are. No scales, thin hair and nails, flat teeth, dull eyes, and only one set of arms and tits. I do not understand the attraction. Though I imagine you are warm and soft, which may be pleasing enough,” she acknowledged. “I suppose that would make you an entertaining enough female for the time being.”

Terri’s eyes widened when understanding hit. “Oh no, there’s nothing like that going on here. He is using me as leverage against my mate. The deal was that he had to keep me safe from the crew and this was his best bet.”

“Was it now?” Azan murmured, her lips curving into a menacing smile. “Thisis hardly safe. I do not like being ordered to watch over you and see to your needs as if I were a servant. I have worked hard and sacrificed much to be second-in-command. That my sex has assigned me as your keeper is beneath me, as is being forced to share my meager belongings just because I am the only female on ship who has them. But,” she said slowly with resignation, “the captain has entrusted me with this, so I will carry out his orders, regardless of my personal feelings on the matter. I only offer one warning: do not even consider doing anything stupid that may reflect poorly upon me.”

Her words dropped to a whisper as she reached out and drew one claw along Terri’s cheek. “I know ways to bring about pain. Pain is my special calling and is what secured my position in this crew rather than becoming of the few miserable females who live short, brutal lives, flung among the lower decks to amuse the males. I will find a way to inflict the worst pain on you without leaving a visible mark. While you are in my charge, you will do as you are told. It is as simple as that.”

Azan made a show of relaxing as she straightened and rocked back on her heels. She glanced around the room placidly, a room that would have been hers if the captain assigned rooms in accordance to the ship’s design. Her expression, however, didn’t waver. It remained cool as she smirked at Terri.

“With arrangements as they are, I am going to be spending a lot of time in this room with you. If you don’t like sharing a bed, you can sleep on the floor. I have spent enough revolutions on a floor that I refuse to go there again. Unless I am called away or need to step out for a specific reason, consider me your shadow. Now, I do believe that you have an evening meal to prepare for. Cleanse yourself and rest. Egbor is not a patient or forgiving male.”

Shooing Terri off in the direction of the cleaning unit, Azan dropped down into the chair that she had vacated and pulled out a large, wicked knife and a small square block upon which she began to sharpen it. Terri watched, her heart hammering in her throat at every long draw of the blade against the stone. Azan glanced up and smirked.

“Hurry now, beast.”

Biting off her protest, Terri spun away and disappeared into the cleansing unit. Her clothing hit the floor, and she stepped into the stall. The dry air and sonic vibrations surrounded her, stripping away every bit of dirt and sweat until she was as clean as she had ever been. Although she and Veral did have a tub for the rare occasion when they chose to use the recycled water supply for that, she had long become accustomed to a cleansing stall.

When she stepped out, she nearly tripped when she found the Blaithari waiting outside the stall with folded clothes in hand. Her eyes swept over Terri, and she grinned.

“Just as I suspected, you are wholly soft and helpless. You don’t even have the lower pectoral spines.”


Tags: S.J. Sanders Argurma Salvager Science Fiction