Ghost of the Father (Final Dawn, Book 6) by T.W.M. Ashford

Author:T.W.M. Ashford [Ashford, T.W.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

13

Not Your Average Pirates

Jack was ushered towards a table in a ramshackle bar not far from the busted stairwell doors. He didn’t know if a point-blank shot from the pistol buried in the small of his back would penetrate the armour of his spacesuit, but he was sure he didn’t want to find out.

His kidnapper shoved him into a secluded booth towards the back of the market. Not that it really mattered if anybody was watching – Jack reckoned they could shoot him square in the face and the only response from their inebriated neighbours would be a resounding cheer. Klik, Rogan and Tuner were unceremoniously barged onto the bench beside him.

“Just give the word, Jack,” Klik whispered.

“There’s no need for that,” said the man with the gun sliding across the bench opposite. “Just hand over whatever it is you found and we can all go our separate ways.”

Jack gawped. He’d expected a grizzled, possibly even disfigured alien of some kind. Another four-armed Luethian like Ode Verdasz, at least. Instead he was faced with a black male in his early forties, reasonably well-built with a fine crop of short, dark hair that wrapped around both hemispheres of his head. The guy wouldn’t stop grinning. Even more disconcertingly, the grin seemed utterly genuine.

Jack didn’t trust people that happy. He suspected they were hiding something.

Especially when they had a gun resting on the table.

“I’m sorry. You’re human?” Jack leaned forward with his hands clasped together. “What the hell are you doing all the way out here?”

“Because I’m a pirate, of cou—” The man shook his head; his smile faltered. “That’s none of your business. Right now you should be more concerned with giving us everything valuable on your persons. Cough up.”

“We didn’t find anything down there,” Jack replied with a shrug. “Our pockets are empty. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Tuner nervously put an antique buckle on the table.

“I found this on the floor and thought it looked nice,” he said. “You can have it if you want.”

The pirate’s accomplice took one look at the rusty buckle on offer and then smacked him around the back of the head.

“I told you this was a stupid plan,” she rasped. “You just signed our death warrant, idiot.”

The second pirate – the one who originally pointed a gun at Jack’s stomach outside Max’s secret room – better matched his expectations. She was close to seven feet tall, covered in scales, and dressed in similar smuggler garb to her male counterpart. Her face was relatively flat and humanoid, though the back of her skull flared out in an impressive bony frill. One of her yellow eyes was milky and blind.

“My stupid plan?” The man chuckled heartily. “You’re the captain. You’re the one who signed off on it.”

“Erm, I’m sorry.” Jack pointed towards the exit. “Are we okay to leave now?”

“What? No.” The human pirate aimed his gun across the table again, then softened. “Yes, maybe. Oh, I don’t know. Nom de dieu. This has all been a big misunderstanding.

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