Free Pirate: Space Gypsy Chronicles, #1 by Eve Langlais

nose and swollen eyes, she wasn’t feeling too romantic. And, besides, she was still mad at him.
    This was all his fault.
    She wiped at her cheeks and took a few deep breaths, composing herself. For once, he didn’t say a word, showing a strange understanding she wouldn’t have expected.
    It took a few attempts to clear her tear-swollen throat before she could manage a hoarse, “Okay, crazy dude. I’m done with the waterworks. So, if you’re still willing to give me that tour, I’m ready.”
    “Are you sure? Some of my ship’s parts are susceptible to rust.” If not for the quirk of his lips, she might have slugged him.
    “And how do those parts react to blood?” She arched a brow. While not usually a violent person, he brought out the worst in her.
    “That’s the spirit.” He smiled, and she really wished her heart wouldn’t hiccup when he did. “You’ll need that tough attitude where we’re going.”
    “And where is that?” she asked as she followed him out of the bridge.
    “Wherever the galactic winds and the wormholes take us.”
    “You really need to work on your reassuring speeches.”
    “It wasn’t meant to be reassuring,” he stated as they walked down the hall. “The universe is a dangerous place. The only thing that is certain is that nothing is ever safe.”
    “Seems like a shitty life.”
    “It depends on your attitude. Some see the danger as a reason to shut themselves away. To shield themselves from every possibility. Others like to court the danger for the thrill of discovery. Let me ask you, wench. Which group do you belong to?”
    The answer should have been obvious. Who the hell wanted to play with fire? Yet, as a woman who’d played it safe all her life, it shocked her to realize that she’d felt more alive in the last hour or so than she could have ever imagined. She didn’t answer his question and, instead, posed one. “You said your command center is in the middle of the ship. How many levels is it?”
    “Three. Above us are crew quarters.” He waved a hand over his head. “Below is one set of engines. The backup set is in the nose of the ship.” He tapped on the wall where conduits ran. “On the other side of this, spanning two levels and taking up the rear of the ship, is the cargo bay. The stairs behind us at the other end of this hall lead to it.”
    His description didn’t do much to help build a picture in her mind. Her nose wrinkled. “You said nose. What shape is your ship anyhow? Is it round like a saucer?”
    “No. Think of it more as a triangle or a prism. Studies by aerodynamic engineers have proven that the best power efficiency comes from vessels with pointed sterns.”
    “So no round UFO?” How disappointing. “What about little green men?”
    “I already told you they exist, but given their blatant lack of regard for secrecy when studying your kind, they’ve been banned from Earth.”
    She halted in the hall. “Hold on. I thought you were joking before. You mean they’re real?”
    “Most of the legends and rumors that have been bandied about over the centuries have a grain of truth in them. PISS has done its best to—”
    “Piss?”
    “The Department for the Protection of Indigene Slow Societies. They are tasked with ensuring that your planet develops at a normal pace.”
    “So they’re supposed to protect us from aliens? That makes no sense because I thought you told me our president was an alien. Or were you lying?” Her eyes narrowed.
    “An exception was made because, if we continue to allow your race free rein, you’ll destroy the planet within the next fifty years. Given planets with actual livable ecosystems are rather rare, it was felt that some intervention was required. But, again, discreetly. There are many things about your planet that would surprise you, wench.”
    “I have a name, you know.”
    “You don’t look like a Stan.”
    “Because I’m an Emma.”
    “Emma…” He spoke her name as if he tested it, rolling