Page 57 of Devin
Amoeba pirate seemed to consider this for a while, then let out a ripple, which Cocak took to be acquiescence.
“Now if you really want a special, I’ve got a third in the hold. Now, she’s not a princess. She’s a Terran. Quite rare out here in this sector.”
“Terrans are trouble. At least that’s what I’ve heard. Backwards, obstinate.”
“But they’ve got very talented mouths, and versatile tongues,” the captain said. Val figured he spoke from experience, and then tried to get the image out of her head of Charlette on her knees giving him a blowjob.
“I don’t know,” Amoeba dithered.
“Considering I’m giving you one for free already, I figured half price was fair.” Charlotte wouldn’t like that at all. Being half the price. “It’s a bargain really, if you consider it. 100 for each. Priceless, once in a lifetime deal.”
Val had no idea if a hundred was good or bad to judge for herself, and she had no idea of the currency or the rate.
“I’ve got a better idea,” Amoeba pirate said. Without any warning, he pulled out a weapon and shot Cocak in the head. Black blood and particulates splattered all over the console. He was definitely not immune to that weapon, and he was definitely dead.
These pirates were not fucking around. Amoeba called into his communicator. “Done. Hook up the back and clean out the hold. Make it quick. I don’t trust the asshole not to have made a back up plan. Probably got a daily lockdown code.” He motioned to his underlings. “Grab them.”
With that, Val found herself being escorted from the ship through a small tunnel and into a much larger ship. If Cocak’s ship was the size of a large yacht, this was a cruise ship. There were people everywhere, and not just more amoebas. Every color and shape seemed to be represented in the rainbow crew.
They marched through a large common area. One yellow alien with long pink tentacled hair took a long sniff and made a face. She obviously didn’t like what she smelled, but she made no comment other than to glare at the passing group.
Val tried to make a mental note of the layout, and count the number of people she saw. By the time they made it to the holding area, she’d counted at least 53 pirates. It would take an army to break them out of this ship. That’s if they had a way to find them. Space was a very big place.
The amoeba pirates seemed glad to dump Grena in a cell, and without asking, Val followed and sat on the floor next to her prone companion. They either didn’t mind, or couldn’t bebothered to separate them. The pirates erected the force fence and went about their business.
In short order, the two were alone. Val prodded her face. Her eye was beginning to swell up and her headache was going into migraine territory. Grena stirred beside her. She sat up suddenly and looked around.
“We’re on a pirate ship. Cocak planned to sell you on the way home all along. He’s dead. They killed him,” Val summed up.
“Thank goodness for small miracles. What about the bitch?”
“Still locked in a cargo container as far as I know. This place is huge. I’d guess a hundred or so crew.”
“What kind of crew?”
“All kinds, colors. The leader seems to be like a walking jellyfish. You can see through his skin. And he’s got blobby arms and legs,” Val said, waving her arms in response.
“I do not know what a gelatin fish looks like, but he sounds like a Georgun. They are a generally unpleasant race that looks down upon most other species as they don’t have an actual skeleton. They are the worst dinner companions. You can see right through their digestive tract and watch their stomachs digest every squishy morsel. Quite disturbing if you do ask me,” Grena said, shuddering.
“But if they have a diverse crew, then it sounds like they are more tolerant, and well organized,” she continued. “It means money talks, and they have relative safety in numbers. A ship this size isn’t worth going after unless you have a battleship, which is a resource that the Mahdfel don’t usually spend on anything other than the Suhlik.”
“What does that mean for us?” Val asked.
“It means that my father will pay the ransom, and we should be reasonably safe until then, if not held in the most luxurious of accommodations. I shall try to rectify that soon. And get youa med bay treatment. Is your face supposed to turn purple? It’s not flattering.”
Val shook her head, and then regretted it. She almost wished she’d chosen unconscious now.
“I think I need to lie down for a while,” she said. Grena patted her on the shoulder and then stood. She approached a panel on the far wall. After a moment of study, she pushed a few buttons and a cot slid out from the wall.
“We should probably sleep in shifts. Just for a precautionary measure,” Grena said.
Val lay down and drifted quickly off to sleep. When she woke up, they were not alone. The pink alien with the yellow hair was there, staring. Wait, hadn’t she been yellow with pink hair before? Val honestly couldn’t remember.
Grena stood and brought all her regalness to bear. “I am Grena, Daughter of Portuso, Supreme Commander of Takalia, Lady of the Rings of Eternal Light, and Torchbearer of the High Council. I demand to know the reason for my detainment, and evoke the rights granted by the Great Charter of the Krigallias System to speak with my father.”
“I am Bright, and you,” she said, pointing to Val, ”smell of Etlonian, the Clan of Athen to be precise.”
“She is of the Clan of Kavendish. He has been given his own command. My son, her husband, shall soon be a warlord as well. Very powerful.” Val doubted that, but if it made her less disposable, she was all for hyping her reputation. “Now about speaking to my father, and perhaps an upgrade in my accommodations. That thing over there only dispenses nutrinuggets. I require-”
