Pink Sails

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A big yawn escaped him as Simon paused mobbing the floor. Just like every other day, the third shift was the most boring one. The monotonous hum of the ship's fusion reactor didn't help to reduce the boredom he experienced. Only another hour and-

A shrill siren started blaring. Simon knew it well. It was the alarm for battle stations. Not that there were any, really. The Golden Swan was a merchant ship. Still, it meant removing his bucket and mop post-haste and skiving into a vac-suit. They had about five minutes until the captain would order the ship's interior to be pumped out of air. Then the inside would be as much of a vacuum as the endless space around them.

"Fockin' drills," Prescott cursed as he slammed his datapad down. The officer of the watch in the engineering section for the third shift. "Waste'o time."

Simon could only agree but kept it to himself. He was on the lowest rung of the ship's pecking order and no one gave a rat's ass about his opinion. Having stowed his tool, Simon arrived at the same time at the locker as Prescott. Both started to shimmy into their tight vac-suits when an announcement came over the speaker system. Then, Simon strapped himself into a backpack that held enough oxygen for close to two days.

"This is the captain speaking. We have pink sails. I repeat. Pink sails. Not a drill. Four minutes to vacuum."

"Aww shite," Prescott cursed.

"Pirates?" Simon asked aloud. "I heard they aren't so bad. They take a part of your cargo and have some fun with the crew. All very civil."

"Forgot it's ya first cruise." Prescott stopped for a second to look Simon deep in the eyes. "That's if ya don't run, boy. Captn always runs. Funny thang is, he escaped so fa."

"In your suits and on your stations," the chief engineer shouted as he and a bunch of crew arrived. Making the area around the lockers very crowded.

As soon as Simon had his helmet on, he ran towards a bulkhead and strapped himself onto a safety rail. Contrary to everyone else in the room, he didn't really have a position. Or the skill to even lay claim on one. He was just the shipboy. At eighteen years the youngest and hardly what might be called a sailor. Or even an apprentice.

"Hard vacuum in ten seconds!"

The shout made Simon look up. This was it. A real battle. He never thought he might be in one. This was a trading ship after all. Even pirates were a calculated risk of minor property loss. Pull over. Give a few wares. Leave. The fast ships of those pirates didn't really have the storage bays to truly rob them blind.

The engineering section broke out into hectic activity. Here and there, Simon got snippets of orders thrown around. Then the air was gone. Taking most of the sounds around with him. Only the hum of the reactor remained. Transmitted through the deck below his feet. At least, until his radio turned on.

"Prepare to raise all heat sails," the chief engineer transmitted.

Through vibrations of the deck, Simon felt the ship shudder as the sails extended from the hull. Then a sudden jerk nearly threw him off his feet.

"Sir, the starboard sail failed to fully extend."

"Damn it!" The chief engineer looked around and his eyes fell on Simon. "Shipboy. Go out there and assess the damage."

Simon gulped. Was his boss serious? Simon had barely done a few practice excursions onto the masts. Now he was supposed to go out there while in battle? But the look hard as steel clued Simon in that the chief engineer was indeed serious.

With trembling hands, Simon untethered himself and hurried to the outer hull. He arrived at the air-lock. Instead of cycling through, he opened both doors at the same time. After all, the ship was already under vacuum. There was no more air to lose.

Outside was the vastness of space. Tiny pinpricks of lights marked stars lightyears away. Fighting down his own fright, Simon stepped out onto a small gangway and immediately tethered himself to a safety rail. Not far ahead was a thick column of steel extending from the hull. From there, the spines of girders and textiles extended. The heat-sails. Of course, they were colored golden. Pure vanity, to match the sails to the name of the ship. As far as the mast extended outward, it wasn't enough. Looking up, Simon spied the topside mast and it was extended to twice the length. Something prevented the starboard mast from doing the same.

Just in front of the starboard mast was a gangway and Simon wasted no time hurrying along. At least until he arrived at the painted red line. Beyond, the gangway twisted in place. Turning ninety degrees to the side to then run parallel to the mast. Simon knew this was the point at which the artificial gravity ended. Beyond that, the gravity would change. Whatever acceleration they had would create a different kind of artificial gravity.

Simon's stomach turned around as he stepped over the red line. Fighting to not throw up, he hurried onward. Only to immediately sink to his knees. The display in his helmet was telling him he experienced one and a half g of gravity. The Golden Swan was accelerating fast.

Through his hands and knees, he could feel the heat radiating from the mast. The ship's engine and other functions drew a lot of power. To satisfy the need the Golden Swan had a decent-sized fusion reactor. One that produced tons of heat as a byproduct. Contrary to popular belief, the vacuum of space was a poor medium to bleed it off. That's where the sails came in. They were gigantic heat exchangers that fought to radiate off excess heat.

Simon didn't want to imagine what would happen if the sail couldn't keep up with the heat the reactor produced. Hence, he fought himself up from his knees and soldiered on. Fighting step by step up the mast. The Golden Swan had four of them. Starboard and backboard each to the side. Then there was the topside and the keelside. Or up and below the ship. Why they were called like this, he had no idea. Must be remnants of a bygone era. All four masts could extend up to two hundred and fifty meters. Though the backboard one was stuck at the half and it was Simon's job to figure out why.

A small light in the vastness of space caught his eye. It was moving. And, if he wasn't mistaken, coming closer. Then his eyes grew wide. It was the drive-plume of a missile. Simon had barely registered the fact when the missile raced past the Golden Swan. A split second later a bright light made Simon wince and turn his head away. They had detonated it in the path of the Golden Swan. A warning shot, Simon realized. Surely now the captain would stand down and give up. But Simon winced as more acceleration-gravity clawed at him. They were now running even faster. One point seven g he could read on his helmet's display.

Simon fought to move on. His arms and legs were even heavier than before. Each step was exhausting. Fatigue set in, but at least he nearly had reached his goal. Only fifty more meters. Then he spotted another drive-plume. A new missile.

"Please be another warning shot," he prayed. To whom he couldn't tell.

As it came closer, Simon stopped to grab the railing tight. Bracing for an impact that he hoped never came.

The light of a new explosion blinded him, but Simon had barely time to process the fact when the Golden Swan groaned beneath his feet and bucked to the side. Nearly throwing Simon over the rails. This hadn't been a warning shot. That much was clear. But as Simon turned around his breath got stuck in his lung. The top-side mast was gone. Instead, a steady fog of ice escaped the stump that remained. The Golden Swan was leaking coolant fluid which immediately froze into a fine spray of ice crystals. Looking behind, Simon could see the remnants of the mast and sail quickly falling behind. Soon swallowed by the inky vastness of space around them.

Simon cursed with everything he got. The Golden Swan had lost a quarter of its heat exchange sails and still, the ship raced on. It was madness. Then it dawned on Simon that if he couldn't get the starboard sail fully extended, the reactor might overheat. That would be the end of the ship.

With hard breath, Simon fought to go further. To reach the end of the mast. He might just be the shipboy, but right now the fate of the Golden Swan was in his hands. The end of the mast came within reach. Maybe two dozen meters more, when a new quake made Simon lose his footing. Had they been hit again? He hadn't seen the drive-plume of another missile.

Looking back, Simon could still see the keel-side and backboard-side sails. That was good. The mist of frozen coolant on the top-side stump had ceased. Probably cut off from within. Still, they were trailing a fine spray of ice. Where was it coming from? Then, Simon saw it. A rupture at the base of the starboard mast. The very one he was standing on. The ripping off of the topside mast must have thrown debris around and damaged other parts.

Simon pushed up on his legs again. Running with the last energy reserves he had. Not towards the end of the mast, but towards the ship. He knew the mast was lost. He just hoped he wouldn't be lost with it. Another groan shook the ship at the same time the leak at the base of the starboard mast doubled. More internal pipes must have ruptured. Simon was running out of time. Fast.

In order to gain speed, Simon did what every instructor warned him never to do since day one. He unhooked himself from the safety tether. Barely four steps later, Simon stumbled. Finally, the captain had seen reason and reduced acceleration. Now going with one point one gravitas of acceleration. It meant Simon had an easier time hurrying back to the ship, but not that the captain gave up yet. The pirates probably would have demanded them to stop accelerating altogether.

Another big groan shook through the starboard mast. Simon could barely hear it. Only what was transmitted through the soles of his vac-suit. Simon grabbed the railing as his eyes grew wide. The rapture at the base of the starboard mast grew visibly. More coolant leaked out and the mast slowly bent out of position.

Just twenty more meters, Simon reminded himself. Then he would be back on board the ship. There he would be safe. But he had to hurry. He broke out into a sprint that was short-lived. A sudden explosion severed the starboard mast at the rupture and threw it clear off the ship. Along with Simon.

Suddenly tumbling through empty space, Simon only caught glimpses. The mast was floating nearby, but clear from Simon. Beyond was the Golden Swan. Quickly shrinking into the blackness around him as it accelerated away. He was lost now. They wouldn't turn around to get him. They probably hadn't even noticed him getting swept off into the darkness. Still, Simon activated his emergency transponder. Even knowing it was in vain.

A sudden bright light made Simon flinch. Right from the spot he last had seen the Golden Swan vanish into. It was brighter than the detonation of a missile. Which could only mean one thing: the Golden Swan had overheated and the fusion reactor had blown up. Taking along the ship and crew into an early grave.

For a split second, Simon was glad to be thrown off the ship and mast. Narrowly escaping the destruction of the Golden Swan. Of course, the relief was short-lived. Death was still in the future for Simon. Just now it came in the form of suffocating. Not a happy prospect. In just a few hours, Simon would join his fellow crewmates in the afterlife.

"Anyone out there?"

Simon blinked in shock as his radio squawked to life. It was a female voice that spoke to him. Definitely a pirate.

"We are receiving an emergency beacon," the woman continued. "If anyone survived, please respond now."

In haste, Simon needed a few seconds to find the right buttons to press on his suit to open a channel. "Yes! I am here. Simon Watts. Shipboy of the Golden Swan."

"Well, not anymore," the pirate corrected him. "Hang on tight. We'll triangulate your position and will get you. Shouldn't take us more than an hour. Are you clear of any large debris?"

Simon looked around. Even going so far as to activate his suit's helmet-mounted flashlights on their highest setting. "Nothing I can see. I was thrown clear of the ship when the starboard mast came undone."

"Understood." A few seconds passed before the pirate spoke up again. "Boosting towards you now. This will take a while. Keep calm. Conserve oxygen and battery power. We will check in every fifteen minutes."

"Acknowledged."

And then, there was nothing left to do but wait.


Slightly over two hours later, Simon stumbled out of the shuttle that rescued him. The landing bay was small. Aside from the shuttle, there were a few secured crates and a five-women welcome party. Except his welcome hadn't been friendly so far.

The women in the shuttle had been intimidating and if any of his old friends might have joked about it, Simon would now have the evidence to prove them wrong. All pirates might be women, but they certainly looked imposing. The pirates wore only light armor. Padding the most important areas of the human body. They only wore light equipment and weapons as well.

What struck Simon as most intimidating was that they looked coherent. Professional. Not the slapdash amalgamation one might have expected. And they moved efficiently. When they sealed up the shuttle and ordered Simon to ditch his space suit, he did so as fast as he could.

Now, stepping out with only his undergarments - not even his work overall - Simon felt profoundly naked. And the cold stares of the women before him didn't inspire confidence that anything would change soon.

One of the pirates of the shuttle pointed at some unremarkable point of floor space. Simon hurried to stand on the exact spot. He had been warned only to speak when spoken to.

One woman stepped forward. She towered over Simon. Partially because of plateaus under her boots. She wore a skintight suit that was transparent in most areas. Giving a deviously lewd display. Simon did his best not to ogle. It might cost him his life after all.

"My name is Constanze Vasquez," she spoke up as she slowly started to circle Simon. "Captain of this ship, the Talon. Now, who are you and what do you bring to offer?"

"Simon Watts," he replied. "I was the shipboy of the Golden Swan. I am sorry, but I don't understand. I've nothing to offer."

"Nothing?" Constanze stopped before him and raised an eyebrow. Then abruptly turned around and walked towards the exit. Nodding to one of the other pirates. "Throw him out of the airlock."

Simon's eyes grew wide. "Wait. Please, wait. I meant I don't know what I can do for you. Maybe I could work for a passage to the next port?"

Vasquez turned around and looked passed. Her boots echoed as she stomped back. "Is this a joke? Have you ever heard of a male pirate? And what use do you think we have for a shipboy?"

Simon knew he was truly fucked, but what else was there than to try on. "Maybe I can entertain you?" He didn't even know how, but he heard stories that entertaining a pirate was what smart sailors did when they got raided by pirates.

"You don't even have a rating," the captain sneered.

"Captain, if I may?" One of the pirates stepped forward. Despite her dark complexion, she had blond dreads that reached toward her hips.

Vasquez turned half away from Simon. "What is it, Akinyi?"

Akinyi didn't immediately answer. First, she gave Simon a wink and a smirk. "I've been working on a new model. Maybe the boy wants to volunteer. And then, working off his passage wouldn't be a problem."

The captain turned back to Simon and gave him a toothy grin. "How about it, boy? Do you volunteer?"

Simon swallowed hard. There wasn't much of a choice. Either he volunteered or he won a quick exit through the airlock. Still, he had to ask. "Volunteer for what exactly?"

"Akinyi is our resident body sculptor. And since we have a class four auto-doc, your half portion of a boy wouldn't be a problem. One quick nap and you wake up a woman." Vasquez leaned a little more forward so she could whisper into his ear. "And believe me, Akinyi is skilled. Look around you. Most of what you see is her handiwork."

Rather involuntarily, Simon did as told. The captain was right. He was surrounded by beauties. And if they were the creation of Akinyi, then Simon would turn out a hottie too. As much as he wanted to believe it wasn't his future, Simon's logic dictated differently. He definitely wasn't going back out into space. Much less so without a spacesuit.

"I'll do it." The words flowed slowly over Simon's lips. It sealed his fate. "I'll volunteer."

"Excellent!" Akinyi rushed forward and grabbed Simon's arm. He would have been dragged away by her, but the captain stopped them.

"Just so we are clear-" She fixed Simon with piercing eyes. "There are no freebies here. You ain't just volunteering for her remodeling. Until we make port again, you will be part of this crew. That means you will follow orders and do your best."

The underlying meaning was clear to Simon. "Until we make port, I'll be a pirate under your command."

"I am glad we understand each other."

The captain stepped aside. Making way for Akinyi to drag him off. It didn't take long for them to arrive in the med bay. The Talon was smaller than the Golden Swan. Four bulky auto-docs filled the small room. By the look of it, they appeared to be class four. A rarity. He wondered if every pirate ship sprang for those expensive acquisitions.

Class four was normally overkill. Class one could take care of scrapes and bruises. Even bone fractures or common sicknesses. Two handled more serious injuries and chronic diseases. Civilians rarely saw a class three auto-doc. Those could handle cybernetics and organic grafting.

Class four would leave nothing left of Simon. It could and would break him down to his DNA. Giving him a makeover on the genetic level. He would wake up a new person in the most literal sense.

Simon dreaded what was to come, but at the same time, he made his peace with it. There was no alternative. He looked at Akinyi. "I am ready."

"Not yet." Akinyi threw something invisible at him. A split second later and Simon saw a data transfer offer. "Install that."

"What is that?"

"That is the standard pirate application," Akinyi explained while not even looking up from her console. "Every pirate has it and every pirate needs it. It has a ton of features you need and it handles all security interactions with a pirate ship. Hence, if you want to work on this ship, you need this app."

Simon wasn't so sure if Akinyi told the whole truth. The app was big. Putting some of his games to shame. Who knew what functions it had. Yet, he saw no alternative to install it inside his cortical implant. Once the app was done, it threw the first alarming prompt up.

"It wants to run on an administrator level!"

"Yes. And you will accept." This time Akinyi looked up and gave him a look of steel. "Listen. This app handles data security. Not just for you, but for this ship too. And before you get your panties in a twist, there will be a few more requests that might make you panic. It will ask for permission to access your neural network. In other words, your brain. It will also request access to your hormone production and other carrier chemicals in your body. You will accept all of it." Then, Akinyi's voice softened up a bit. "Look, I know it is scary. You are told to be very careful about giving those permissions away. I understand. Every pirate on this ship or others knows how you feel. We all carry the same application and granted it full access."

Simon's mouth felt dry as he said "Understood." He accepted all prompts. A little of his nervousness bubbled forth. "Either I signed up to be a pirate or you can make me a wanton slut to work in a brothel."

"Oh, when I am done, you definitely could work in a brothel," Akinyi promised with a cheerful grin. "But pirates don't do slave trading. It is against the code."

A new prompt appeared in Simon's vision. One he only could acknowledge for now. "The application says I have the wrong body to work properly."

"Well, that's your cue to climb into an auro-doc."

A little nervous, Simon stepped into the closest one. The reclined seat was comfortable. He took a last glance at his body. Giving it a farewell in his mind. With this last task done, all that was left to do was to wait. By the time the auto-doc closed up, part of Simon was excited. Yes, he would give up his body. His gender even. But there was some curiosity. In what kind of body would he wake up? How would it feel?

While he mused, Simon drifted off to sleep. The sedative diffused into the air had done its job.


Simon woke up confused. He felt groggy and the canopy above him definitely didn't belong to his bunk bed on the Golden Swan. It only took a few moments for the last traces of sedative to leave his system and for his mind to become clear. With it, his memories returned. The panic of the pirate attack, him being thrown into space, and the rescue by the pirates. If one could call that a rescue.

He knew he was a woman now. His body definitely felt different. Still, he waited a moment to look at it. Delaying the inevitable.

Others were not as patient. A woman appeared over the transparent capsule of the auto-doc and gave it a good tap. "Oi, sleeping beauty, we ain't got all day."

"I underst-" Simon stopped. So, this was his new voice. Deeper than he would have guessed, but very melodic. If piracy wouldn't work out, maybe he had a future as a Jazz singer.

"Got it," he tried again. Then rose to a sitting position. The auto-doc automatically opened, but Simon was too distracted to notice. Yes, he was a woman now. With all the bells and whistles. However, there were quite a few unusual features.

"There you are." Akinyi appeared at his side and offered her hand.

Simon was grateful for the help. Standing up, he felt like a newborn giraffe. "Are my proportions off?" He had trouble keeping his balance and yes, his new breasts threw off his center of balance, but they weren't that big.

"Yes, your legs are slightly longer than the norm," Akinyi confirmed. "A good chunk of your new DNA comes courtesy of Sigma Draconis five. The other half of the majority comes from Penzentos three."

"Can we hurry this up, Doc?" The newcomer was clearly impatient. She was a pale woman with shoulder-length purple hair that was shaved off on the left side. "Me and Cappuccino here have things to do."

"Shut up, Rowlin," Akinyi snapped. "She just woke up and needs a moment."

Simon was grateful. His new body clearly was a little outside the norm. Being called cappuccino was surprisingly on point. As he could see in a nearby full-size mirror. From head to toe, Simon's new skin was the color of milk coffee. But it was not uniform. Like swirls and contours, he had heavy white freckles that gave his body an exotic look. As if someone had tried to body-paint on him with flour or a dusting of powdered sugar. Even stranger was the second set of scarcer, but darker freckles on top.

His hair was strange too. From some angles, it looked like a light pastel pink. But moving his head just a little made it shift slowly to a blond. Still with a tint of pink to it. There were the long legs that Akinyi had pointed out too. It made him half a head taller than the resident mad scientist. The rest was normal by comparison. Even the model-like face with deep brown eyes. His new body was athletic. He had feared exaggerated features like a big bosom or mighty hips. But everything was a good average.

"Now, listen up. You too, Rowlin." Akinyi snapped a few times to get the attention of the purple-haired pirate. "The third planet in the Penzentos system has higher gravity than normal. The local residents have developed denser bones and muscles. That means you, new girl, have more strength under the hood. Not as much as a native who grew up under high-g, but still a good boost toward it. The trade-off is the side effects of your unusual hair and long legs. Both are normal in that system."

"I can live with that," Simon said when Akinyi waited for a comment.

Of course, Rowlin had to comment too. "Good thinkin'. It might be useful for the position the capt'n has in mind."

Akinyi rolled her eyes but then continued with her explanation. "Your new skin might appear decorative in nature, but it is another side-effect. Courtesy of your Sigma Draconis genes. The air there is thin and the people are surprisingly nomadic. Hence they developed high endurance over the years. With the added benefit that you'll consume about twenty percent less oxygen than a baseline human."

If Simon found himself floating in space with only a suit again, he might suffocate twenty percent slower. Not a real boon in his book, but he didn't voice that sentiment out loud.

"More stamina for less fuel," Simon summarized. "Got it."

"Is that all?" Rowlin asked Akinyi. As the doctor nodded, Rowlin put an arm around Simon and led him away. "Come on, Cappuccino. Time to show you the ropes."

"That's not my name," Simon protested.

"Oh, you already settled on a woman's name?" When Simon shook his head, Rowlin patted him on the shoulder. "Then Cappuccino it is. Until you settle on something better. Better hurry up, though. Nicknames tend to stick quickly. Well, Cappuccino is a bit long. How about Chino? Nah, too masculine. Pucci?"

"None of these," Simon was quick to say. "Listen. I'll think of something, okay? In the meantime, could I get something to wear?"

"Of course, Powder-Tits. Where do you think we are going?" Rowlin thumbed on her chest. "I'm your mentor now. That means you're my responsibility."

"I don't like Powder-Tits either," Simon muttered. Despite being very on point. The white freckles around his breasts looked a little like a brasserie. They contoured the underside of his breasts and gave them a truly unique appearance.

"In here, Pouty-Lips." Rowlin steered him through a heavy hatch.

The view inside robbed Simon of any reply. Weapons lined the bulkheads ranging from pistols to rifles. Even some melee weapons like stun batons. There were a few lockers in between the arsenal and Rowlin walked to one. She withdrew one of the spacesuits the pirates preferred. Most of it was transparent and only barely covered the naughty bits.

"This one should fit," Rowlin remarked. "Might not be long enough for your legs. Just give it a moment. It is self-adjusting."

Simon took the offered spacesuit and eyed it wearily. How much protection could such a lewd spacesuit offer? Unfolding it, Simon got his first surprise. For something transparent the suit's membrane was surprisingly thick. Simon found the second surprise when he tried to put his first leg in. It was not just figure-hugging, but tight. Squeezing every inch of his new body. Shimming into it took a few minutes and when Simon closed it up, it was from neck to toe skin tight. Despite the thickness of it, he felt exposed. He guessed about eighty percent of his skin could be seen through it.

"Finally. Took you long enough. Next step: armor." Rowlin withdrew a patch of armor that looked like the front half of a battle harness. "Now listen up. The transparent areas of your spacesuit appear to be decorative in function, but they are not. Each corresponds to an equally shaped armor plate. Just press it on like this and it will hold."

Rowlin had lined it up with the transparent area that exposed the front of Simon's chest. Pressed at the right place affixed it in place. It added some weight, but not too much.

As Rowlin withdrew more armor patches, Simon had to ask. "If the transparent areas are markers where the armor goes, why make it transparent in the first place. Why not just a simple color shift? Maybe light gray or thelike?"

Rowlin didn't answer directly. Instead, she pointed at the weapons around them with an armor patch she had been about to affix to Simon's tight. "Look around you. What kind of weapons do you see?"

Simon did, but his knowledge was limited. After a minute he gave up with a shrug.

"See, Cappuccino, they are all non-lethal," Rowlin revealed with a smirk. "Killing sailors is bad for business so we limit ourselves. Not everyone feels the same. Some people are just stupid and try to resist. They usually carry weapons that hurt. And the navies, well, they always shot with lethal intent."

"Let's say you get shot here." Rowlin poked him in his new soft belly. "You feel a sharp pain. But how bad is it? How deep? Your space suit and implant need up to thirty seconds to assess the damage. Too long." She peeled back part of Simon's armor and acted like taking a peek. "Oh, just a flesh wound. Not too bad. Or, oh my, heavy bleeding. We need to get you to an auto-doc as soon as possible."

"I prefer not to be shot at all," Simon admitted. "Will there be a lot of fighting?"

"Usually? No." Rowlin continued to add armor patches to Simon's suit. Each time holding it up and then showing where and how to attach it. "We avoid the navies as best as we can. Sometimes, rarely, a sailor tries to be a hero. Despite that, most merchant captains discourage the notion. That's why we always enter a merchant vessel in full gear. Even if that vessel is known to us and we had boarded it before without a problem."

Rowlin adhered the last patch to the suit and motioned for Simon to stand up. As she gave him a once-over, Simon made use of the fact that he had a mentor. "Why would a captain discourage it?"

"Oh, Cappuccino." Rowlin gave a big overdone sigh. Instead of answering right away, she grabbed a pistol from a nearby rack. "That's the RCS-63. A sidearm designed for riot control and used in many colonies. It is non-lethal. Good for us pirates too. As long as the opponent doesn't wear too much armor. It attaches here." She placed it on Simon's right tight and it held in place just fine. "As for your question. We pirates usually are easygoing. Stop a merchant. Have a little fun. Take some of the cargo. And then we leave. But how much we take depends on how they behave. There had been instances where pirate captains spaced cargo and blew it up. Just to make a point. The message is: don't resist us and you'll be fine. Do, and we make it hurt. A spacer playing hero might cost a merchant captain a few more tons in cargo."

Simon nodded along. "That's more or less what I suspected." Secretly he was relieved that there was a slim chance of actual violence. Yes, he had agreed to be a pirate for the duration until they reached the next port. But that didn't mean he wanted to hurt or even kill somebody.

"Next, we have the Sendov." Rowlin pulled a short snubbed shotgun off the rack. "It doesn't incapacitate people. Its payload is electronic warfare. Freezes any electronics near the impact. Powered armor, shields, or electronic locks. Among other things. Good against heavy opponents, but rarely used for it. Among us pirates, it is known as the universal crowbar. Gets you through doors and opens up sealed crates."

The shotgun found its place on Simon's back. Adding some more weight to his frame. With all the armor panels, his suit started to get heavy.

"And, at least for now, the standard assault rifle." It was the biggest weapon Rowlin pulled from storage. "Or the SAR-Special, as we call them. Normally shoots lethal - it still can - but we modified it for a variety of non-lethal ammunition."

"Okay. I think I get it," Simon said as the rifle found its place on his back too. "Let me take a guess. I have to strip and reequip this getup a few times to prove I can do so in an emergency."

Rowlin gave a sharp laugh. "Oh, Cappuccino, you are a riot. Watched too many military sims, did ya? Listen. I'm your mentor. Not some pissy drill sergeant. Come on. I'll show you to your teammates."

"In all this getup?"

"Of course." Rowlin gave him a predatory grin. "You'll need it."

She led Simon deeper into the bowls of the Talon. They arrived at cargo bay two. But despite the name, Simon saw no cargo. He could make out gym equipment and six more pirates.

"Celia, I got your newbie!" Rowlin turned to Simon. "That's Celia. Your new squad leader."

As Simon took stock, it was clear that Akinyi designed a few of the bodies around. They all looked like models and half of them had unique features. Celia, who stood up from a bench press, had sways of iridescent scales scattered over her skin.

"Celia," she curtly introduced herself again as she held out a hand.

"A pleasure," Simon replied as he became the victim of a vice-like handshake. "Haven't settled for a name yet. I don't think Simon is appropriate anymore."

Possessively, Rowlin slapped Simon's shoulder. "I'll call her Cappuccino."

"Again. Not my name," Simon growled while swiping off Rowlin's hand.

"Finding a name is important," Celia agreed, but still looked questioningly at Rowlin. "Cappuccino? Any reason why?"

Rowlin chuckled. "Peel off her armor and you find a skin that might be a barrister's wet dream. Akinyi has outdone herself this time."

"Doesn't she always?" Celia asked, then turned back to Simon. "So, you need a name, huh? Does it have to be coffee related?"

"How about Kaffee?" One of the pirates spoke up. Only to be slapped on the head by another. "Isn't that just coffee in Prussian Moderna?"

"How about Melya?" Another pirate suggested.

Simon thought it over. "Actually, I kind of like that. And it isn't anything like Cappuccino, Macchiato, or anything other related to coffee." As he heard a few chuckles, Simon gave a sigh. "I guess it is after all?"

"Welcome to the team, Melya," Celia was quick to say before more jokes could be made. "Now, what kind of background do you have?"

Flustered, Simon scratched his head. "I was a shipboy before."

"Not that," Celia said over the chorus of chuckles. "Any weapons training? Did you do any martial arts growing up?"

This time, Simon's reply was even more sheepish. "No."

"Oh, girl. We have a lot of work ahead of us." Celia turned back to Rowlin. "We got it from here. You can collect her in, say, four hours."

"See you in a few, Cappuccino," Rowlin shouted while making her exit.

"It's Melya now," Simon tried to correct her, but even to him it sounded pouty. A deep sigh later and he turned back toward Celia. "So, where do we start?"

In reply, he got a very hungry grin.


Melya was swamped with sweat. It was quite the feat with a spacesuit that was supposed to transport all that grossness away from her skin. But even marvels of technology had their limits.

In the first two hours, Celia had her do all kinds of physical training. It was a crash course in how to live with a female body. Melya also started to get used to her new name. She got plenty of time to hear it from her new teammates. They probably used it more so Melya could get used to it. Cementing the fact that she was now Melya and being Simon was a thing of the past.

She had been exhausted by that point, but Celia hadn't been done with her. "No history as a pirate can be good or bad. We will see what kind of material you are."

Melya had to don her whole loadout on again and was led to a simulator room. Here, she found her new favorite torture device. Each simulator was surprisingly sophisticated. It could create force fields with detailed surfaces. Stepping on these, Melya could walk through a number of artificial terrains. Small tractor beams kept her in place. Artificial gravity could simulate different planets and throw her around in simulated impacts. Combined with a very realistic heads-up display, the simulator could put Melya into every possible combat situation and make her believe she was actually there.

The first simulation Melya could experience was a virtual target range. There, Celia explained each weapon in detail and had Melya test-fire them all. She quickly left the basic aiming tests behind and moved on to a few challenges. Melya thought she had done well on those. Despite the needling and jokes of her new teammates. Then came the fun part. The most realistic video game she had ever played.

Celia threw her into a few different situations without training or advice. Just to see how Melya would fare. From boarding a hostile ship to making planetfall. To Melya it all felt real. If she ran down a corridor, she could forget that what she saw was computer generated and the very ground she walked on was just force fields. Objects she picked up or bulkheads she leaned again were all simulated but felt just as real.

Of course, each Sim had enemies. Melya could feel each impact if she was hit by enemy fire. Whether it was simulated by tractor beams or moving force fields didn't matter to her. She even was thrown through the air by grenades and other explosives. In the end, she didn't wonder why she was sweating like crazy or why her brand-new body was bruised in quite a few places.

The last simulation ended as Melya had to navigate a spaceship with a loss of artificial gravity. She had been picked off while floating from one cover to the next. With no means to change her trajectory while floating, she had been easy to target and finish off.

Melya heard the arrival of Rowlin before she raised up her vizor. "How is my Cappuccino doing?"

"It's Melya now," Celia snapped before Melya could. "And you better use her name. Because you know how our squad feels with others messing with our members."

"Alright. Alright." Melya took in the room just as Rowlin raised her arms in a placating manner. "If you are done with her, I've got some mentoring to do."

Celia ignored Rowlin to give Melya a helping hand exiting the simulator capsule. "So far, so atrocious. But you have potential and appear to be a fast learner. We will continue this tomorrow."

Melya gave her goodbyes to the rest of the squad. Depending on what Rowlin had planned, she might or might not see them before the next day. Like a good student, she followed her mentor out of the door.

"What's next on the plan?" Melya wanted to know.

"First, we'll stow your stuff. No one here runs around with weapons twenty-four-seven. And then-" Rowlin gave her a nasty grin. "The lesson everyone needs, but no one else is willing to teach. "Female hygiene one-oh-one."

"Oh, great," Melya moaned, but she saw the necessity. She was a woman now and for the foreseeable future. It made only sense to learn how to take care of herself. But something struck her as curious about Rowlin's comment. "Surely not everyone. Can't be that many like me."

"You'd be surprised how many of us pirates used to be sailors." For once, Rowlin actually sounded serious. "Two-thirds on this ship by my last account. And let me tell you, a few of the natural women arriving here still need a refresher."

"This will be awkward," Melya admitted. "But I'll be all ears."

"Good," Rowlin said just as they arrived in a public shower compartment.

Melya was used to sharing a shower with others. Floorspace was premium on space-faring vessels. The Golden Swan hadn't been any different in that regard. The Talon's shower was even smaller. Six pirates could share the small compartment.

And it got awkward. Fast. The sonic shower took care of a lot, but Rowlin taught her what bits and bobs took extra attention. What surprised Melya was how used she got to the feel of her new skintight spacesuit. Slipping out of it, she felt naked. Which was surprising as it only exposed twenty percent more skin of her.

As they were finishing up, Melya noticed that Rowlin had skipped over one important topic. "What about, you know, the time of the month?"

"Ah. Right. Don't worry about it." Rowlin continued to get dressed again and casually continued. "You are on a pirate ship and running the pirate app in your implant. That means the app automatically suppresses everything that is connected to fertility. In other words, we don't want pirates to get pregnant mid-journey. The easiest way is to prevent the release of eggs. And, in turn, no time of the month. Now, once you leave the ship for more than a week, that stops and you become fertile again. Come on. Time to show you your bunk."

The way Rowlin cut off the explanation, Melya was sure she had to do research on her own. Yes, she was glad that there was one aspect of womanhood she didn't have to deal with yet. But it was only a matter of time. She would leave the ship at the next port and then she'd have to deal with all aspects of womanhood.

"Here we are. Your bunk is below mine."

Their sleeping compartment was less of a room and more like a hallway with recessed sleeping nooks to both sides. By the looks of it, this compartment could sleep eight on either side for a total of sixteen. The sight wasn't new to Melya. As Simon, his first encounter had been sobering. On the Golden Swan, only officers got their own room. The common crew had to make do with these tight sleeping nooks. Melya was actually surprised. These beds actually deserved the moniker. They were a little longer and wider than those on the Golden Swan.

Rowlin showed her the basic features. Nothing new to Melya. Some small storage lockers at the head end and private displays that could be lowered from the ceiling of the sleeping nook. It was clear that these spaces were designed for sleeping. Not for any other activities.

"Ready for your next lesson?" Rowlin had that eager grin on her face and a glint in her eyes. By now Melya recognized it as a sign of danger.

"Sure," Melya agreed. "Provided it is either grabbing food or taking a nap."

Rowlin bellowed a laugh. "What? A few hours of workout and you are tired? Tomorrow there will be twice as much. Sorry, honey. But there is some time left before the next meal. Now, scoot into your bunk. The next lesson will be pleasurable. Provided you do it right."

Melya doubted it. There was not much to do in a bunk besides sleeping or watching some program. In two dimensions no less. It would do in a pinch, but Melya doubted it would really entertain her.

"Now what?" Melya asked as Rowlin climbed into her own bunk.

Rowlin appeared a moment later. Leaning out of her bunk and holding a data chip. She offered it to Melya. "Next, you will watch a little informational vid."

"An informational vid?" Melya asked. "A pleasurable one? That would be a first."

"Oh, poor little Cappuccino," Rowlin mocked. "Now, stop stalling."

A little grumpy, Melya did as told. The data chip was full of vids. Melya could see that most of them were captured in two dimensions, but a few were marked as holo-projector compatible.

"Which one?" Melya asked while giving her mentor a pointed look. "And why are all these file names based on male names?"

Rowlin did an impossible feat by grinning even bigger. "Just pick one at random. They are all good. I guarantee it."

Melya narrowed her eyes but knew by now that arguing with Rowlin would lead nowhere. So, she adjusted her display and leaned back. She might as well get comfortable while watching some instructional vid. As Rowlin suggested, Melya picked one at random.

The vid started with a close-up of Rowlin's face. The pirate clearly was setting up a recording device. Satisfied, she stepped back and made Melya gasp in turn. The Rowlin from the vid was naked. But that was hardly the strangest part. She wasn't alone. A sailor of maybe forty years was with her. Framed by the vid was part of some cargo space and a makeshift bed that looked surprisingly comfortable. And the recorded Rowlin was quick to make use of it and the sailor.

"You are making me watch one of your amateur pornos?" Melya shouted more than asking.

Rowlin's head appeared once more. "Oh, I am doing more than that. You girl, are about to masturbate for the first time as a woman."

Melya's mouth fell open. "What? Why?"

"Because we pirates are sexual creatures." Rowlin looked surprisingly serious as her mouth made ridiculous statements. "And you are no different. Listen, I am your mentor. It is my duty to make you comfortable with all aspects of being a woman. And that includes that you don't end up as some kind of prude. Listen, I told you this lesson will be pleasurable and I mean it. Now, I taught you how to open your suit at the groin. Get busy. We ain't leaving until you know how it feels to get off as a woman."

"You've got to be kidding me," Melya murmured as Rowlin's head disappeared. This task was nuts. Yet, in a twisted way, it made sense. If Melya was honest with herself, she was curious about how it felt. She also knew that privacy was a limited resource on a space fairing vessel. Having just one pirate around that could overhear her might be as best as it could get. And if she refused, she'll probably garner the spot of her new co-workers. There was no telling how long Melya had to work with them as she had no clue when they made port next.

Still peeved, Melya leaned back and resumed the vid. She might as well try. And despite it being an amateur vid, it provided some entertainment value. Rowlin was attractive and right now Melya could enjoy a lecherous look when no one was looking. The purple-haired pirate clearly was molded by Akinyi too. She was shapely and athletic. The man she had picked probably wasn't sculptured, yet he was a looker too. He had some muscular bulk, but not as much as a bodybuilder. He looked fit and had stamina. A fact he proved by taking his time with plenty of foreplay. The slight sheen of sweat made his abs glisten while-

"What in the void?" Melya noticed the signs of her own arousal. And her attraction wasn't focused on the purple-haired pirate. "Rowlin!"

Rowlin's head appeared again. She wore a shit-eating grin. "You summoned?"

Melya feeble pointed at her display. "The man. Why am I attracted to the man?"

"Oh, my little Cappuccino." Rowlin shook her head playfully. "Has the little wannabe pirate forgotten a certain app in her implants? One that has access to your biochemistry and neurological pathways."

"The pirate app!" Melya grimaced as she recalled that she had been forced to give those permissions. "Why make me gay? I mean, straight. Oh, you know what I mean. Why is it important that I am into dudes?"

"Now, that is a good question." Rowlin gave a wise nod that was spoiled by the fact that she leaned out of her bed and hung upside down. "It is for the harmony of the ship and for motivation. Also, technically, you ain't straight. The implant carefully tweaked it so you are bisexual with a strong lean towards men."

"But why? I still don't get it?"

"Okay. Women first." Rowlin slipped out of her bed and made a show to pose for Melya. "You are somewhat attracted to every woman aboard. Enough to fool around, but not so much that you fall in love. That could lead to drama or two pirates snagging up and retiring together."

Yes, Melya decided, if Rowlin would offer, she would be open for a romp with her. With every pirate Melya had encountered so far. Once again, Melya was annoyed that it made sense in a certain way.

"And the men?"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Rowlin waited for an epiphany in Melya's eyes. As none came, Rowlin slapped her own forehead. "Oh, right. I forgot that you are fresh out of the spaceport and hired onto a ship that always ran. What did other sailors tell you about them entertaining pirates."

"Not much," Melya admitted. "Only that it happened. No details as they didn't want to spoil my first time when-" Melya's voice trailed off as she caught sight of the vid paused mid-action. "Is that it?" she asked while pointing at the display.

"Of course, it is." Rowlin sat down on the floor and started the second round of explaining. "You see, pirates and sailors used to mix like water and oil. Not very well. We killed them. They killed us. And everyone was unhappy. But it gradually changed. Now, it is more like an amicable transaction. Sailors entertain us. Which keeps the motivation of pirates high and gives us reason to be lenient in our takings."

"I see how sailors and pirates profit from the arrangement," Melya slowly relented. "But I don't see how the merchant captains can be happy with it."

"You don't? Think about it. Pirate ships don't have the cargo capacity as merchant ships do. And often, we don't even fill our bays half up. Or with the most profitable cargo. Why? All are part of the arrangement. For merchant captains, a pirate encounter is like a toll they pay. It can be calculated within their profit margins and has the benefit of keeping the crew happy."

Melya leaned back and thought about it. The whole arrangement sounded like a delicate balance. A lot more civilized than she had expected. Of course, there was a downside Rowlin had glossed over.

"If it is so beneficial, why did the captain of the Golden Swan run?"

The question sobered up Rowlin real quick. "Right. For you, it must be harder to accept. Listen, ninety-nine point nine percent go with the flow. But sometimes, you have some greedy asshole as a captain. Profit over everything and risk be damned. All a roll of the dice for them. Normally, a disabling shot is all it takes. Take a mast and the merchant captain knows what's what. That the Golden Swan lost a second heatsail was bad luck."

"Even among the crew, he didn't have the best of reputation," Melya admitted. "If only I had known."

Rowlin reached out and gave Melya a squeeze. "Don't dwell on the past. What's done is done. Rather concentrate on your current task." As Melya looked quizzical, Rowlin gave a sigh. "This was a bummer of a topic, but you ain't getting out of it. I still want you to explore your new femininity. And that includes rubbing one off."

Melya swallowed uncomfortably. "Understood." There was no weaseling out of this one.


Melya's heart was beating wildly and she hoped none of her fellow pirates could pick up on it. This was it. Her first time boarding a merchant's vessel. A part of her had hoped that they would run unto port before it happened. Now, she was forced to be part of it. The moment she entered the vessel, she'd be a criminal.

She had gotten a pep talk from Celia - her squad leader - before getting onto the boarding shuttle. Whatever calm she had gained from it evaporated as none other than the captain stepped onto the shuttle too.

"Hey, newbie!" Melya turned to the squad mate who had called her out. "Don't go trigger-happy on us. Chances are low one of them is stupid enough to try something. Just do your stuff and everything will be fine."

Melya gave a nod and leaned back. As far as she could. Today, she was wearing a portable scanner. The heavy equipment would reveal any hidden weapons on a person or even in smuggler compartments.

A slight vibration went through the shuttle as it docked. As practiced, her squad took positions. "Weapons check!" Celia demanded. They already had done one, but each squad mate sounded off. Melya hoped they wouldn't need them. At least she only carried non-lethal rounds.

Melya caught sight of Rowlin. Of course, her mentor was part of her first boarding action. She gave Melya a thumbs up and got a nervous nod in reply. The newbie also caught a small smile on the captain's lips. That didn't help to calm her down.

The airlock opened and the squad moved in. Everything ran smoothly and as practiced until Melya stepped foot on the merchant's vessel. She nearly tripped as she saw the welcome committee. Two rows of sailors stood in the middle of the bay. They all looked in good spirits. Not at all nervous. A few more crewmates leaned against the rear bulkhead.

"Melya. Scan."

Snapping out of her little shock, Melya went back to what she had practiced with her squad. Her scanner went active and she slowly walked along the double row. Each sailor came away clean, but Melya had trouble focusing on the results. Most of the sailors looked fit. Some she might even call hunky. Good looking too. And if Rowlin was right, there was a good chance that one of them would entertain Melya tonight. It was a little embarrassing, but she looked forward to it. Maybe that young one with that ponytail. He looked the same age as Melya.

"Clear!" Melya shouted as she scanned - and appreciated- the last sailor. She took position beside her squad mates. Not nearly as nonchalant as them.

A moment later, Rowlin and the captain stepped aboard. Triggering the next surprise for Melya. "Florencio!" Beaming brightly, Melya's captain walked over to the merchant captain, who was equally all smiles. He took Captain Vasquez's hand and placed a kiss on it. It was followed by a "Dear Constanze, it is so good to see you."

"They know each other?" Melya whispered to Rowlin who had walked over.

"Old acquaintances."

Despite Rowlin's talk about the amicable relationship of pirates and merchants, Melya hadn't expected a quite so cheerful welcome. And then there was her captain. Constanze Vasquez had always appeared hard as nails to Melya. Now, she acted like she was reunited with her old high-school sweetheart.

Someone punched her shoulder and Melya saw Celia close by. "Stop gawking. It is time to sweep the ship."

Leaving two of their squad behind, Celia and Melya explored the merchant's vessel. Their first stop was the Armory. As Melya had learned, most merchant ships had one. Less for the purpose of carrying large amounts of small arms. Sailors about to be boarded handed their personal weapons over to avoid misunderstandings with pirates. A quick scan and Melya sealed the Armory with a lock. They would undo it on their way out.

Next were the personal berths of the crew and the captain's quarters. All were clean of weapons. Even the knives of the kitchen had been cleared and placed in the Armory. Sweeping the cargo bays took longer. Melya was confused by the first makeshift bed she found. Quickly followed by quite a few more. Melya stifled her curiosity. Besides, she could think of why they were here. After all, sailors tended to entertain pirates. Despite never having been with a man - and only accepting her attraction to them recently - Melya looked quite forward to her own turn.

At last, they arrived back at the airlock just as the next pirate shuttle arrived. They didn't carry weapons. Melya and her squad had made sure that they didn't need them. "What happens now?" she asked Rowlin as she took a stance beside her.

"Now we take turns having fun," the purple-haired pirate replied. She pointed at the sailors that leaned on the bulkhead. "Entertaining us is voluntary. Those over there are off-limits. Before you ask, they might be gay, have a wife at home, or have any other reason. You'll have to do with those that volunteered."

"Not a problem," Melya said and impatiently witnessed as her fellow pirates made their selection. Each walked off with a sailor of their choosing. Her heart lightened a bit as she saw that none went for the young stud she had earmarked for herself.

"Someone caught your fancy, Melya?"

A little shocked, Melya turned towards her captain. Vasquez leaned on the merchant captain as if he was a prized possession. There was a smirk on her face and knowing glances to Rowlin.

Melya blushed despite trying to avoid it. "Maybe."

A brilliant laugh rang out through the cargo bay. "Ah, young and eager. Let's celebrate your first boarding. Go ahead. Pick your poison."

"Really?" Melya's gaze went over her teammates. This would mean skipping ahead of them. But she only saw grins and encouraging nods.

"Ditch your pack and weapons," Celia ordered. "And choose wisely."

Like a child in a candy store, Melya prowled the two rows of sailors. Sure, a few were missing as other pirates had made their claims and she already had a certain sailor earmarked. But a girl could watch, right? Some of those sailors were certainly a feast for the eyes. A few even tempted her to decide differently.

At last, she stopped before her young and muscular favorite. He gave her a bow with a flourish. "My name is Mauricio and I'd be honored to entertain you."

Melya couldn't suppress a little giggle. "Well then, Mauricio, show me what you got."

Arm in arm, they left for a quiet place.

Not even a half hour later, Melya stomped back into the cargo bay. She ignored the snickers of her squad mates as she silently took her position beside Rowlin.

"Everything alright?" her mentor asked after a moment.

Melya stared ahead. It turned to a glare as she saw Mauricio slinking back into the bay. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Sure. Sure." A few seconds passed before Rowlin continued in a chipper voice. "It's not hard to imagine what happened. Let me guess. You both were hot and bothered. Probably skipped a good foreplay session. Going right to the nitty gritty. And then he was done after ten minutes. Leaving you wanting."

"Not even five!" Melya's outburst earned her a few giggles. "First, he is all big talk. Next thing I know he has come and tries to get me off with a limp noodle. When that isn't working, he makes excuses. So he offers to go down on me and I think, well at least something. But he is bad at it too."

"Oh, poor Cappuccino." Rowlin didn't sound emphatic to Melya. Not one bit. "Well, you can warn the next pirate when you write his rating."

Melya turned to Rowlin. "What do you mean by 'rating'?"

"Oh, did I never explain the rating system? What a terrible mentor I am." Rowlin gave her an apologetic look. The same one a child might give a parent who knew they messed up and it was expected of them but didn't really mean it. "Let me explain. If you access your pirate app, you can see all previous ratings of a sailor. You see, we can install a little helper app in the implant of a sailor. Only if they want, mind you. But once it is there, they can't manipulate it. We pirates can rate them on how well they entertained us. And see who was a good lay in the past and who wasn't. Give it a try."

Melya was half-minded to glare the next half hour at Rowlin but eventually relented. Opening up the pirate app, it wasn't hard to find the appropriate sub-menu. Rating popped up over each sailor. Ranging from one star to five. Though few came even close to five and there was only one who had a one-star rating: Mauricio. If every pirate had access to this information then all her crewmates had known Melya had chosen poorly. And no one had warned her.

Her app notified her that she had sex with Mauricio - if one was generous with the term - and if she liked to rate him. She could even write a few sentences. Melya's first impulse was to give him one star and write him a scathing review.

"You know, there is an old saying," Rowlin spoke up. "Young pirates learn to sail from old sea dogs."

Melya frowned. What a nonsensical saying. But the confusion over it distracted Melya from her anger. She took a moment to take apart the meaning. Glancing at the two rows of sailors made it even easier. It wasn't hard to see a trend. The older the sailor, the more and higher ratings they tended to have. Someone young like Mauricio may have aspirations to do great, but old sailors had the experience to follow through.

Again, she looked at Mauricio. The young lad wasn't as cocky or assured as before. With a hanging head, he kind of was halfway between the rows of sailors and those who waited at the bulkhead. And then it dawned on Melya. If the captain of the Golden Swan hadn't been such an idiot, then she might have ended up just like Mauricio. A ship boy on his first cruise. Eager to please a beautiful pirate, but lacking the experience to make it worthwhile.

In the end, she gave him three starts and her review read as follows: "Didn't make me come, but I see the potential. Eager to learn. Might need a better teacher than me to become a good lay."

It only took seconds after her submission before Rowlin spoke up. "Three stars? That's very generous of you."

Melya shrugged. "Had I a different merchant captain than the one of the Golden Swan, it might be me standing there and feeling embarrassed. Worth cutting some slack."

"Very wise for such a young age," Melya's current captain remarked.

"Constanze, I am terribly sorry for my underperformed crewman." Merchant captain Florencio sounded jovial, but Melya could hear the seriousness beneath it. "You won't hold that against me or my crew, right?"

"Of course not," Captain Vasquez replied and patted him on the chest. "He gave us a valuable opportunity to educate our newest member. Girls! Who here wants to see if Melya learned her lesson?" Her teammates all lifted up her arms in unison. Of course, Rowlin needed to fall out of line and gave a thumbs-up instead. "Well, looks like you got lucky, Melya. Go ahead. Choose again."

"Thanks!" Melya didn't know if she said it to the captain or her squad. A little too eager, Melya ditched her weapon again and inspected the remaining sailors again. Having access to the ratings made it a whole lot easier. She stopped before an older sailor with salt and pepper beard stubble and small wrinkles in his eyes from too much smiling. He looked to be in peak physical condition despite being in his forties. It helped that he boasted an average rating of four point five two.

"Ajern, my lady." He offered his arm. "Might I restore our ship's honor to you?"

"I don't consider it tarnished, but I am not saying no to seeing what a seasoned sailor can do."

Arm in arm with Ajern, Melya was escorted away.


Melya tidied up her bunk. Not that there was a lot to do. For a month, it had been hers. Now, it was time to say goodbye. It had taken the Talon three holdups to fill their cargo bay. Packed with loot, they had made their way back to a known pirate port. Melya's obligation was fulfilled. She had worked as a pirate - and sacrificed her original body - to earn this passage. Now, she could start anew.

"I got something for you."

Melya turned to see her mentor walking up. Holding a gift-wrapped box. "You shouldn't have."

"Hey, I am letting you go into the wild world out there," Rowlin remarked. For once, she sounded serious. "This is the least I can do. Come on. Open it."

"Alright." Melya smiled. Who didn't like gifts? The wrapping was undone in seconds. The contents were glittering before her eyes. "A dress?"

"And shoes," Rowlin added while Melya lifted out a gold sequin dress with blue accents. "Your old squad and a few others hit the bars later. Maybe you can join us. Nobody parties like a pirate after a successful haul. And the girls want to see you off."

Before Melya could reply, her name was shouted from further down the corridor. Peeking out, she saw the first mate who shouted a short message for her. "Captain wants to see you."

"See you at the bars?" Rowlin asked as Melya turned back.

"Sure." Melya had gone from being fearful of the pirates to having quite a few friends. If she was being generous she might even count Rowlin among them. If her mentor just wouldn't pull as many pranks on her in the name of teaching her. "I'll see what the captain wants and then get dressed."

"Grand!" Rowlin gave her a quick hug. "We'll be at the Drunken Anchor."

Shaking her head in amusement, Melya grabbed her gift and made her way toward the bridge. Aside from her spacesuit, it was now her only possession. Just shy of the bridge, Melya stopped at the door that led to captain Vasquez's ready room.

"Come in," she heard after knocking. Stepping in, Melya saw Constanze Vasquez slouching behind her desk. Sipping hard liquor from a glass. "Take a seat. This won't take long."

Even relaxed as she was right now, the captain still held an aura of authority. Technically, Melya was off the hook but still hurried to follow the order.

"First things first, we'll be docking in a few minutes. You have been with us for a little over a month, right?" As Melya nodded, Vasquez languishingly pulled out a cred stick from her desk. "Five thousand. Your cut for time served."

A little hesitant, Melya reached for it. "I didn't expect to be compensated."

"You served as a pirate and you got paid like a pirate. Easy as that." The pirate captain took a good swig of her liquor before addressing Melya again. "Now listen. There is the matter of a little app in your head. Ask around the station for Old Tricone. She is sort of a retired pirate. Once you have been off the Talon - off any pirate ship - for a week, she can uninstall the app. Then you are clean. Ready to start your life anew."

Minus her original body. Five thousand was enough to book passage for anywhere in the quadrant and have a little bit more to start fresh. Melya doubted it would last if she paid for a male body again. A step she had to take if she wanted to become a sailor again. To traverse the stars on the legal side of things.

"There is something else I want you to think about." The captain had waited silently just for the moment as Melya wanted to stand up. "Celia talks highly of you. A fast learner. Rarely makes a mistake twice. And I have seen your test scores. We have plenty of pirates for boarding parties. That ain't the problem. Crew? That's harder. You could get a spot on my bridge. Move up the ladder."

The implication was clear to Melya. "If I stay, that is."

Vasquez shrugged and emptied her glass. "Think about it. The Talon will be docked here for a few days. My offer stands until we depart."

Melya stood up. Weighing the cred stick in her hand and the offer before her. "I'll give it some thought," she promised.

With a wave of the captain's hand, she was dismissed. Melya would be lying if she said she wasn't intrigued. Yet something held her back. Yes, she had fun. And catching a merchant ship was rewarding. In more ways than one. But she also reminded herself that this very ship has caused the destruction of another. Even if it had not been intended. One could argue that the captain of the Golden Swan had deserved it. But not the crew.

A quick change in the shower room and Melya was ready. She had to admit that Rowlin had some taste. The glamorous dress fitted her rather exotic complexion nicely. The shoes were a little on the iffy side for Melya. Too high of a heel, but she managed.

Her old teammates and Rowlin were already waiting at the airlock. Even a few of the general crew had gathered. Like the unofficial doctor Akinyi. "There she is! What took you so long?"

"I thought you would go ahead. The captain had a parting gift," Melya said while flashing the cred stick. Choosing to keep quiet about the offer.

Of course, Melya was among pirates, and showing any kind of wealth was a mistake. As Rowlin gave her a last lesson as a mentor. "I think Melya just volunteered to buy the first round!"

Groaning, Melya was swept up by the pirates. Herded along an unfamiliar station and to the entertainment promenade. While steering for a bar, Celia made sure Melya saw some of the attractions. "Those guys over there? Former sailors. The best of the best often retire early to set up shop in a pirate port. A few credits and they will show you the best of times."

Melya swallowed nervously. Right now, she wouldn't mind a tumble with any of these fine gentlemen. Would that change? Right now, she knew she was attracted to them because the pirate app influenced her cortical implant and through it, her body. If she got rid of the app in a week's time, would that change? Maybe not. She could have developed a taste for it that persisted into the future. There was only one way to find out.

"Shots! We need shots!" Rowlin shouted to the waitstaff as the group of pirates made their way into the bar. Melya's normally quite restrained teammates cut loose and were quite rowdy.

They found a booth that fit them all and the ordered shots arrived soon after. Before they drank, Celia stood up for a toast. "To Melya. A pirate not for long, but a pirate she was!"

Cheers erupted and Melya drank as the rest did. Whatever went down her throat was strong. She nearly coughed but managed to play it cool.

"Guys. Guys! Pipe down." Everyone looked to Rowlin who had stood up. As the pirates fell silent, her former mentor turned to Melya. "Did we just witness you drinking alcohol?" A little confused, Melya nodded. It was all Rowlin needed. "It's official. We can't call her Cappuccino anymore. She has become Irish Coffee."

Rambunctious laughter filled the booth while Melya let out a loud groan. If her first minute in the bar was any kind of metric, she was in for a wild ride.


When Melya awoke, she wondered who had installed a power converter in her head. It was badly tuned and buzzed around like an angry swarm of bees. Opening her eyes was another mistake. The light felt like it was stabbing her skull. It took entirely too much effort to sit up. Where was she and what happened? The glimpses she caught of her surroundings weren't a good sign. It was an unfamiliar space. Even more worrying were the solid steel bars that separated her cot from the rest of the room.

The laughter of a woman could be heard moments before she appeared with a man on her arms. Was that the captain? Melya was confused. What was going on?

The pair stopped before Melya's cell and the man casually spoke up. "Looks like our drunk bird woke up. She one of yours?"

Drunk? Melya's head was pounding like that could be the truth. But this was the worst hangover she ever got. Vaguely, she remembered hitting the bars with Rowlin and the others.

"Technically, no." The two words by Captain Vasquez somehow hurt worse than the pounding in her head. "We fished her out of the dark and she worked that off by sailing with us for a month. That ended yesterday. What did she do? Normally, being drunk is not enough to land in the tank."

The man - probably the station's constable - shrugged. "Oh, she wasn't violent or anything like that. Just raked up debt over two thousand credits."

Two thousand? How did she manage that? The shock sobered Melya up slightly more. Enough that some critical thinking returned. "I have-" She patted her body. Gone was the dress Rowlin gifted her. Instead, she wore some kind of overall. "Cred stick" she croaked out. "Have five thousand somewhere."

"Mind you, two thousand after spending five grand before," the constable clarified and shattered any hopes of Melya to get out of this on her own. "If she hadn't flashed the big money before, the bar staff would have been more vigilant to cut her off in time."

"You know, Melya-" Captain Vasquez's stance was the epitome of a disappointed mother bear. "I am starting to think your fast learning comes from using every opportunity to make mistakes."

Melya let her head hang. She really had messed up.

"I'll pay her bail and debt," Constanze said in a suffering tone. "Come on. Get up, Melya. You got lucky this time."

A little wobbly, Melya did as told. I'd only her headache would go away. After a brief exchange of necessities, she followed her captain out like a duckling after her mother. They arrived at the promenade and Vasquez didn't stop walking. Was she supposed to follow or just split? For now, chastised, Melya continued to hurry after her.

To the side, she spotted the male prostitutes that offered themselves up. A few caught her eyes again and she had hoped for a tumble with them. But now, she didn't have the credits. In fact, she was flat broke. How was she supposed to make ends meet? It would take seven days until she could get rid of the app. Without credits, she would starve long before. Not to mention that any transport off the station was out of her reach.

Even under the worst hangover ever, the solution was clear. "Uhm, captain?"

Vasquez looked over the shoulder but didn't stop. "You're still there? Well, what is it?"

Melya scratched her head nervously. "Is that offer still standing?"

The captain stopped. Turning back to get a good look at Melya. "Well, the Talon is still docked, but-" Her eyes lingered on Melya. At last, she relented. "Fine. If you are up for it, we could use you. Bridge crew is hard to find. Though in the future we may need to designate a chaperone for you."

"That's fair, I guess." Melya didn't even know she could drink like that. Her memory of the previous evening was a blur and full of holes.

"Come on," Vasquez urged her. "Your bunk is still free and I could guess you could use a bit more rest."

Dutifully, Melya followed her back to the ship. But she wasn't out of danger yet. Her next lecture waited at the airlock in the form of Rowlin, who had a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.

"Aww, look who couldn't live without us!" She gave Melya a tight hug, before pushing her at arm's length. "Phew, you smell like you drank half a distillery."

"My head feels like it too," Melya admitted. She'd probably should make a detour to the showers before hitting the bunk.

"Hey, don't feel sad about it," Rowlin said while energetically slapping Melya on the shoulder. "Some choose the pirate life. Sometimes pirate life chooses you."

"Yeah. Yeah." Melya slipped out of Rowlin's grasp and down the next hallway. "Save your wisdom for when I can listen."

"Hey! Where are you going? Your bunk is that way. Don't tell me you drunk your sense of orientation out of wack."

"Medbay!" Melya shouted back. There had to be something for her headache. "Cya later."

"Well. Well. Well." Akinyi was slouching behind her desk. "Look what the cat dragged in. Or the captain. Looks like she pulled through again."

"What?" Melya shook her head. Much too many words to make sense right now. "Do you have something for-"

Akinyi fished for one of the many identical syringes on her desk. "Always the same. One pirate-wake-up," she said while tossing it to Melya. "Good for hangovers and headaches."

At once, Melya used it and sighed in relief. The haze over her mind lifted and the pounding within her skull receded. "Exactly what I needed." She took a seat on one of the examination tables. "So, what was that about the captain?"

"Ah, I shouldn't have said anything." Akinyi gave a lazy shrug and blabbered on anyway. "She has a reputation, you know? Renowned for being good at recruiting pirates. A few of us were disappointed when you walked out of the ship. Others made bets. To see if the captain can still pull through."

Well, Melya being here again wasn't really the captain's fault. It was Melya's heavy drinking and spending that caused it. But something didn't add up. How the hell had she managed to spend over seven thousand credits anyway? And now that the hangover cleared away, fragments of the previous evening returned. It was hazy, but she could swear the captain had joined them in the bar.

Melya let herself fall flat on the table and giggled. "You know, you could have asked me nicely."

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Akinyi sit up. "Whatever are you talking about?"

"Oh, please. I am not drunk anymore. Now that I think about it, your plan was pretty obvious." Melya propped herself up on her elbows and looked at Akinyi. "Show me a good time. Get me drunk. Maybe make me forget that all the drinks are on my tab. The next morning I wake up miserable and broke. Captain to the rescue! Showing me how much I need you all. That I can't stand on my own."

"That's an interesting theory," Akinyi admitted slowly. "Hard to prove though."

Melya gave her a judging look. "I was partial to staying anyway. If you all had spoken to me then your chances had been good to convince me to stay. All your little plan did was rob me of seven thousand credits. Well, five. As far as I am concerned, you all owe me."

Akinyi relaxed a little. "A few hundred credits a head. Most would say that is a small price for you to stay."

"Oh, no. No. No. No." Melya waved Akinyi off and then leaned over to put some seriousness into her next words. "I looked forward to those hunkies on the promenade. Now I can even afford one romp. You all owe me a big O."

Akinyi let out a giggle that turned into laughter. "Good luck making the captain pay her dues. As for me- Well. I don't mind paying up right now. I've been itching to taste my latest creation for a while."

Melya grinned as she undid her coverall. "Don't let me stop you."

As Akinyi gave her a thorough and very invasive examination with her tongue, Melya couldn't help but muse that this wasn't so bad. Surely she could sail under Pink Sails for a tour or two. Maybe a dozen. Or until she made an officer. It all was better than starting over in the merchant marine as a lowly shipboy again. Yes, she definitely could get used to this.

The End.

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Comments

That was different, and fun!

I do like a bit of SciFi, more so than magical transformations.

Nicely done, a fun romp

Alison

Press Ganged

joannebarbarella's picture

Much nicer than the way that Britain's Royal Navy used to do it.

Imaginative and entertaining

5 stars. Doesn't need more but I'm looking forward to what you write next Cassy.

>>> Kay

A pirate’s life for me!

Another wonderful, well crafted tale. Good concept, well developed.