Tamed By the Alien Pirate by Celia Kyle


Love isn’t real. It’s just a biochemical reaction. Right?

That’s what I’ve always believed.

All my friends falling in love with these gorgeous golden alien pirates?

I’m convinced they’re just experiencing biological impulses.

I mean, I get it.

I watch Zander stride through the hallways to me and my heart skips a beat.

I see him lean over to speak to me and my knees weaken.

When he touches me?

It’s like a supernova… down there.

I want to be with him.

To laugh with him. Satisfy him. Stay with him.

Who knows how long we have in this galaxy?

Our enemies are still as determined as ever.

I want my time with the deliciously muscular alien to count.

Except that means I was wrong about love.

It isn’t just physical. Not just chemicals.

It feels so true in my mind, body, and soul.

But that’s not science… I don’t know if I can trust that.

True love can’t be real.

Can it?

The Story So Far…

The year is 2338. Humanity has weathered it’s infancy and has navigated to the stars. They’ve colonized other worlds and become a space faring civilization and formed the Interstellar Human Confederation.

Along the way, they’ve come to discover that the galaxy is actually a pretty crowded place. There are several political entities in the galaxy.

The Trident Alliance is composed of the Vakutan, the Pi’rell, and the Alzhon.

The Ataxian Coalition is composed of the Odex, Kreetu, Grolgath, and Shorcu.

The Coalition and the Alliance has been fighting a war for about 350 years. At its heart, it’s an existential conflict that determines whether the known galaxy will be guided by the teachings of the Ataxian religion or by the capitalistic and technocratic tendencies of the Trident Alliance.

Details are unclear how the war between the Alliance and Coalition started, but atrocities in the name of protecting the innocent have been committed by both sides.

Several races, trying to remain neutral and unaffiliated with either side have formed a loose political union known as the League of Non-Aligned Races. Each race maintains their sovereignty. Member states meet infrequently to discuss trade and security matters, but no true leadership exists.

Many races over the centuries have settled and created a political entity known as the Helios Combine, situated between Coalition and Alliance space and next to the Badlands - a region of space with many stellar phenomena. The Combine is known for it’s slave based economy, its capitalist based caste system, and a rigid social class system.

Humanity had for a long time maintained their neutrality, but after multiple encounters, sided with the Alliance in their war against the Coalition.

War has been unkind to the humans.

Against this backdrop, a large IHC freighter, named the Frontier was found adrift in space by a Kilgari smuggler ship called the Ancestral Queen. The women were found either in cryosleep or emerging from it, with no idea how they ended up on the ship other than the fact that they had been arrested by human security on a number of worlds.

What they discover is that their government has announced that they are terrorists and wanted for acts of treason and espionage. None of the women believes they have done anything to warrant this.

The Kilgari are aliens that live in a matriarchal society and belong to the League of Non Aligned Races. The Ancestral Queen, led by Captain Solair has brought the women on board and continued to help them as well as integrate those who wish to stay into the crew.

Some women wish to return to their homes. Very few had any sort of real families. But they all want to clear their name and bring those who are falsely accusing them to justice one day.

That day has yet to come…

Chapter One


The plasma coil flickers with intermittent purple light, seeming almost like a hundred fireflies trapped within the confines of a serpentine glassteel tube. Most sapients would probably find this display to be aesthetically pleasing, a balm to the soul.

I’m not most sapients. And this infuriates me to no end. No, not just infuriates me. It insults me because it’s a sign that my two so-called assistants aren’t doing their jobs properly.

“No. No. No.” I punctuate each word with a slam of my fist on top of the power relay casing they’ve ostensibly been working on. Turning about, fists clenched in fury, I glare at the two imbeciles Solair has foisted upon me for this retrofit. Vahn, the slenderer of the two, purses his thin lips and attempts to defend the indefensible.

“But the diagnostic we ran said this coil was well within normal efficiency parameters.” His voice is