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

it off his tongue. He shook his head. “Nice, but I think I shall stick to wench.”
    “Then don’t be surprised if I stick to calling you jerk.”
    “I’ve been called worse.”
    As she tried to absorb all the details around her, she was struck once again by the bare-boned appearance of his ship. “I’m surprised everything is so exposed. In the movies—”
    He snorted. “Comparing reality to the artistic imagination of your media is foolish. While some vessels have a sleek interior appearance, where the ‘bare bones,’ as you call it, are hidden by veneers, in truth, most working vessels such as this one, indeed most vessels not designated for pleasure, are owned by captains who do not have the money or resources to waste on making them pretty. Weight and size are a consideration on any ship, as are accessibility and functionality. You look at this and see it as raw and unfinished. I look around and see efficient use of space. Easy access if repairs are needed.”
    “You said size. I saw that storage area you had below. It was huge.” A few tractor-trailers huge and stacked with pallets.
    “The cargo hold is the largest space on this ship out of necessity. If we couldn’t carry a reasonable amount of goods, then we wouldn’t make a profit.” He stopped at an open doorway and gestured inside. “This is our medical room. Should you injure yourself, come here.”
    Emma peeked within, not that there was much to see. The room wasn’t large by any means, only slightly bigger than a closet. She noted a series of closed drawers and panels inset within the walls with grooves for handles and, in the middle of the space, a rectangular metal island. “Are you the ship’s doctor too?”
    “My medical aid stops at bandages.” He pointed at a round ball suspended from the ceiling. “That is our onboard physician. It’s not the newest model; however, it is capable of repairing and diagnosing basic ailments and injuries.”
    “And what about the things it can’t fix?” she asked. Although it seemed better than the one foster mother she had who believed castor oil fixed everything. It didn’t, but it sure kept her from constipation.
    “If the medical unit can’t fix it, then I’d suggest prayer.”
    The reply surprised Emma. “Don’t you have hospitals in space?”
    He leaned against the wall in the hall and shook his head. “Nothing that can be reached quick enough to make a difference. There are hospices on the settled planets. Some of them very advanced. However, if your ailment is life threatening, then you’ll probably die in the time it takes to reach them.” He shrugged. “The universe is a vast place, and we are but tiny specks traveling it.”
    “But didn’t you say you had wormholes to cut the trip travel time?”
    “If you can get to one, even then wormholes are not precise. The slightest miscalculation and you can find yourself hundreds of galaxies away from your destination, if you emerge at all.”
    She frowned at him. “You are really not selling this whole galaxy thing very well. If it’s so dangerous, then why don’t you just settle on a planet and stop hopping around?”
    “That would be a great solution, except for one thing. Viable planets already have inhabitants. While visitors are welcome, settlers, especially my kind, are not welcome.” He pushed away from the wall and continued down the long hall, ignoring two doors.
    “Why aren’t you welcome?” she asked.
    He whirled, suddenly enough that she couldn’t stop fast, and she almost bounced off his chest. “You ask this as if it was a simple answer when it’s not. On your planet, you are all descended from the same basic race, and yet you cannot share the space. You fight amongst each other, destroying and killing, in the name of gaining or taking territory. What makes you think it is different elsewhere? The viable planets already have dwellers. They already fight and squabble to keep what they have. The universe is