Tamed By the Alien Pirate by Celia Kyle Page 0,14

the avenue, dodging other pedestrians and the large number of homeless sapients lying or sitting on the sidewalk.

“That’s a very pragmatic attitude. I approve.”

“I’m glad that you do…” I pat the weapon at my side, and start going off again about its specs, performance, and ways I can improve its function.

I realize she’s somewhat annoyed by the way that I keep going on about it, but I can’t help myself. Besides, she’s one of the few people on the ship capable of understanding the more technical terms.

Following the holomap projected by her comm, we turn the corner and find ourselves on a street that is somewhat less… inviting than the one we were just on. What’s the euphemism popular with Terrans? Rough neighborhood? That seems most appropriate under the circumstances. No merchants have stalls here, and most of the shops and buildings have boards over their windows. The few denizens glare at us with open hatred, and if not for the pistols we wear at our hips, I suspect they would do more than glare.

At the end of the road, we spot the club, with the same purple lettering glowing softly. An Alzhon stumbles out the front door with a little assistance from the Odex bouncer, who wears an ill-fitting evening coat with the sleeves ripped out. The Alzhon vomits into a trash can and then stumbles down the street complaining that he’s not even drunk.

As we near the club, the thudding bass echoes in our ears, so loud I can feel the percussion in my belly. I begin to suspect this isn’t a respectable establishment at all. My theory is confirmed when the door swings wide to allow an old Kilgari’s ingress and I spot a half-naked dancer gyrating on a small stage.

“Ah… this is… ah…”

“A strip club?” Thrase chuckles. “I’m from Mars, Zander. We have strip clubs all across Olympus Mons that would make you blush so hard you wouldn’t know what to do. So I’m hardly a Solaris nun who’s been sheltered her whole life.”

She begins walking for the entrance, and I grab her arm and pull her back.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, we can’t ask questions outside. We need to go in.”

“But—but it’s a, how did you say, strip club.”

“Yes. Your point?”

I realize I don’t really have one, and I quickly fall in step behind her. But when we reach the front door, the massive Odex holds his hairy hand out and bellows.

“No women. Only men.”

Thrase cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Why such a discriminatory policy? Surely the owner of this establishment is aware of changing gender mores in society?”

“Uh…” The Odex sticks a finger in his ear, wriggles it around, and pulls it back out covered in orange ear wax. “Speak galactic standard, please.”

Then he thrusts the finger in his mouth and sucks it dry, turning my stomach. Thrase is too angry to be grossed out, however.

“Why aren’t women allowed in?” she speaks very slowly and deliberately, as if to a child.

“Simple. This is a respectable joint, not some freaky sex club like that Babel on Felora IV. Now scram.”

Thrase and I walk off a short distance to confer.

“Looks like I’m going in alone, but I won’t leave you to your own devices in this neighborhood.”

“Pshaw. These louts are intimidated by our weaponry. You go on inside, and I’ll find another way in.”

“But—but…”

“The mission is vital, Zander. Don’t you want to find Lokyer and save him?”

She has me there. With great reluctance, I approach the entrance, but then I turn and give her my weak force pistol.

“Here. Just in case.”

Thrase accepts the pistol and thrusts it into the pocket of my coat. Then she suddenly gets up on her tip toes and kisses me on the cheek.

“Be careful in there.”

She turns around and strides away down the block before I can respond. My hand goes up to my cheek and touches it softly. If only she had kissed me on the lips, so I could confirm our bond.

There’s nothing left to do but head inside the club. I pay the exorbitant twenty credit cover charge and am informed I must order two drinks at a minimum. Good thing my melted Vakutan friend is paying because I’d hate to justify this expense to Solair.

Inside, a swirling of smoke and flashing lights creates a party atmosphere, though the only ones dancing are the women. The Grolgath female spinning around a metal pole in only her birthday suit is quite attractive, but I find that it only makes me think

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