Hunted By the Alien Pirate by Celia Kyle Page 0,2

is covered—if you can call it that.

Her pale face is pulled into a smile, her blue eyes hidden behind dark glasses to blot out harmful rays from Udrillon’s dual suns. I am mesmerized by her curvaceous body, the swell of her breasts and the flare of her hips. Her skin seems to glow with inner light, the vitality of youth apparent in both her flesh and her easy grace of movement. The tiny triangular bits of cloth struggle to cover her nipples and love cradle, leaving little to the imagination.

Fiona seems completely oblivious to the attention she garners, which might have something to do with the way she stares at her portable datapad and computer unit. When she comes abreast of me—no pun intended—Fiona glances up at last, and our eyes meet.

Her face is creased with a wide smile, and she offers a little wave. Fiona’s gaze runs up and down my bare chest with what I think—or perhaps hope—is appreciation. Years of lifting heavy ship parts have given me a physique similar to a body builder or professional athlete, but Fiona has always struck me as a woman of a more intellectual milieu.

I return the wave, my knees feeling weak as she passes by so closely I can feel her body heat. Inhaling through my nostrils, I drink in her scent and exult in its ecstasy.

Then she moves past me, and my eyes open so widely they nearly topple right out of my head. The back of the swimsuit bottoms she wears is nothing more than a single string no bigger than a data entry stick. I find myself instantly, painfully erect, in both my members.

I follow her like a lost puppy, staring wistfully at her nigh fully exposed form. For an egghead, she certainly is beautiful, and her manner makes her even more so. Fiona isn’t arrogant despite her high intelligence—unlike Dr. Thrase, who takes every opportunity to display her intellect. That should make Fiona more approachable, yet I’ve not had much of a chance to speak with her, especially now that she’s part of the bridge crew.

She spreads out a blanket on the sandy beach and sits cross-legged on its surface, deploying her datapad and portable computer unit so she can work outside. Who can blame her on such a gorgeous world as Udrillon?

I’m trying to be discreet, but I can’t help but stare. Deep down, I know she’s my fated mate, but how in the world would I ever begin to approach her about it?

Perhaps I’m not so discreet after all. Without looking, Fiona raises her voice high enough to be heard over the pounding surf.

“It’s okay, Montier. You can come and talk to me.” She turns at last and pulls the glasses down onto the bridge of her nose. “I don’t bite.”

Chapter Two

Fiona

Ever since I began my duties as the Ancestral Queen’s navigation officer, conflict has roiled in my gut. You see, on one hand I love my new job. Love it. The bridge is the brain of the ship, and most of the interesting things that happen either happen there or have their origins in its golden-skinned confines.

But I’m conflicted because the only way I got this job was due to the death of the former navigation officer, Lokyer. He died a hero, protecting his dear friend Swipt as well as others. This tempers my enjoyment of my new post, though I’ve always loved working with tech.

And I’m good at it, too. I’ve always been a techie, for as long as I can remember. Further, if my family is to be believed. One of my brothers claims that I was pecking away on Mom’s old datapad when I was barely out of diapers, and my father confirms this.

So I have a knack with technology, call it intuition, savant syndrome, or just plain high degree of interest. I think perhaps my biggest asset when dealing with tech is that when I run into a problem, I don’t grow frustrated like most sapients do. Rather, I see it as a puzzle, an intriguing challenge even if it proves not to be that challenging.

Tech I’m good with because it follows solid, inflexible rules. Coding, data, and circuitry all have to obey certain laws of order because otherwise they don’t function.

Other sapients, people, if you will?

Not so much.

Interpersonal relationships were never my forte, even back on Novaria where much of the populace was human like me. Now that I’ve been thrust out into the galaxy at large, I’ve