Page 42 of My Alien Pirate

Another violent shudder ran through the ship, accompanied by a low, ominous groan of straining metal. Something was wrong - even I could tell that. The usually steady thrum of the engines had taken on an erratic, sputtering quality that set my teeth on edge.

"Hey!" I banged on the metal door, my voice hoarse from disuse. "What's going on out there?"

Silence was my only answer. I wasn't expecting much - the pirates had largely ignored me since throwing me in here, aside from occasional visits to shove food and water through a narrow slot in the door. But the ship's obvious distress had me on edge. If something happened to the ship out here in deep space...

I shook my head, pushing the thought away. No use dwelling on worst-case scenarios. Focus on what you can control, Nova.

I paced the tiny cell, three steps one way, turn, three steps back. My muscles ached for real movement after days of confinement. I tried to recall the meditation techniques Zharrox had taught me, to calm my racing mind and center myself.

Zharrox. My heart clenched painfully at the thought of him. Was he alright? The last I'd seen of him, he'd been locked in desperate combat with the pirate captain. Had he survived? Had any of them survived? Were they looking for me?

Of course they are, a small, fierce voice in my head insisted. Zharrox would tear apart the galaxy to find you. Just stay alive. Stay strong.

I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. If I had just done what he'd told me and stayed locked in my cabin, I wouldn't be in this mess right now. But no, I had to be hardheaded and do what I wanted.

The door to my cell suddenly slid open with a harsh grating sound. I tensed, backing up against the far wall as a hulking figure filled the doorway.

"Well, well, little alien. Still alive in here, I see."

I recognized the gravelly voice. This was Krothar, one of the pirates who'd been involved in my capture. He was massive, easily seven feet tall, with mottled green skin and four muscular arms. A puckered scar ran diagonally across his face, twisting his features into a permanent sneer.

"What's going on out there?" I demanded, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.

Krothar's lips peeled back in what I assumed was a grin, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. "Nothing for you to worry about. Just checking on our valuable cargo. Can't have you damaged before we reach the markets, now can we?"

My stomach churned at the casual mention of my intended fate. I'd overheard enough to know these pirates saw me as nothing more than an exotic commodity to be sold to the highest bidder.

"Markets?" I asked, fishing for information. "Where exactly are you taking me?"

Krothar laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Wouldn't you like to know, little alien? Let's just say there are plenty of collectors out there who'd pay a pretty price for something as rare as you."

Before I could press further, another violent tremor shook the ship. Krothar stumbled, catching himself on the doorframe with two of his arms.

"Kriffing void!" he snarled. "What are these idiots doing to my ship?"

His ship? I filed that information away. There seemed to be some disagreement over who was actually in charge here.

"Having some trouble getting your partners in crime to listen to you?" I couldn't resist needling him a bit.

Krothar's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Watch that smart mouth of yours, alien. Or I might decide you're more trouble than you're worth."

With that ominous threat, he slammed the cell door shut, leaving me alone once more.

I slumped back onto the hard bench, my brief surge of defiance fading. What had I gotten myself into? If only I'd listened to Zharrox, I chided myself again, I could be back on the Stryker, maybe finishing what we'd started before we'd been attacked.

Sighing heavily, I stretched back out on my hard bench. Now I may never see him again. My gut spasmed at the thought.

No, I couldn't think like that. Regrets wouldn't help me now. I had to stay focused, stay alert. There might be an opportunity for escape, and I had to be ready when it came.

I closed my eyes, trying to recall every detail I could about the ship's layout from the brief glimpses I'd had during my capture. The Crimson Claw was huge, easily twice the size of the Stryker. But that also meant it would be harder for the reduced crew to maintain, especially if they were dealing with some kind of mechanical issue.

My musings were interrupted by the sound of raised voices in the corridor outside my cell. I crept closer to the door, straining to make out what was being said.

"... can't navigate this blasted nebula!" That was a new voice, high-pitched and reedy. "The sensors are useless, and the gravatic shears are tearing us apart!"

"Then plot a course out of here, you incompetent fool!" Krothar again, his tone a mixture of fury and fear.

"I'm trying! But without the captain's access codes, half the navigation systems are locked out. We're flying blind!"