Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“And…nobody’s ever excused?” I asked, feeling faint.
“Nobody. No-bo-dy,” Snuffy emphasized, still looking at Gurflug. “The Captain showers his own self too, you know—just in his own private shower, is all,” he added. “The Illyrian is fitted with the finest water recyclers so we never have to worry about running out of water—even in deep space, don’t you know.”
“Uh, that’s nice,” I said weakly. Somehow I was just going to have to endure this. I would have to get in and get out as fast as I could and hope that nobody messed with me. But the idea of being naked and wet in a roomful of strange males was enough to make my skin crawl, even with the Synth in my arm providing cover. All it would take for me to be exposed was to brush against someone the wrong way. If they felt my breasts…
“Come now, lad—we’re running behind. So we are. So we are!” Snuffy exclaimed. “Let’s hurry now—we’re almost to your cabin.”
We followed him again and I saw a door labeled, “Crew Quarters” up ahead on the right. As we came up to it, the plain white metal door slid open and a male who was obviously full-blooded Brute came out. He was tall and thin and he was wearing the standard uniform but with silver braid on his shoulders. I also noted that he had silver horns—a sign of a high-ranking officer in a Brutal Clan family. He stared at us with yellow eyes and an arrogant look on his narrow face.
“Well, well, Snuffy—I’ve finished with the pre-flight crew inspection. Now who are these two rejects from a Frothian dumpster?” he asked, sneering at me and Gurflug.
“Two new navvies, Frux. So they are. So they are,” Snuffy said, nodding at us.
“What? Two? Who said we needed two?” the male whose name was Frux demanded.
Snuffy shrugged his narrow shoulders.
“Captain Turk said. He hired ‘em both.”
“But why does a ship need two navigators? This is ridiculous—what the Hell does Turk think he’s doing? I’m going to talk to the Clan Chief about this!” Frux exclaimed importantly.
“Better hurry if you want to make a call—we’re lifting off soon. So we are. So we are,” Snuffy said neutrally, but I got the feeling he didn’t much like Frux, who seemed like an entitled ass.
“My good man, I assure you…” Gurflug burbled, putting out a hand to Frux, but I wasn’t about to let him get the jump on me again.
“Captain Turk hired me to navigate because I have no blind spots,” I said quickly.
Frux turned his yellow gaze on me and raised one eyebrow disdainfully.
“No blind spots? Is that right?”
“The boy lies,” Gurflug burbled. “Of course he has blind spots—all navigators do.”
“You might,” I said crisply. “I don’t.”
Gurflug’s face went dark.
“Why, you little snot. You—”
“Enough!” Frux raised a hand. “I’ll speak to Turk myself. After I speak to the Chief of Clan Savage.”
“I don’t think Captain Turk will be very happy with you second guessing him, Frux. Even if you are the Union Rep. No I don’t. No I do not,” Snuffy said, his nose wiggling.
Frux sniffed.
“You don’t worry about me, cabin boy. Just go about your business. I’ll straighten things out.”
He started to move down the corridor, but of course we were in the way. He squeezed past me and Snuffy, but there was no getting around Gurflug.
“Make way, can’t you?” he demanded, glaring up at the Galafruxian. “Ugh—you stink!”
Gurflug frowned.
“My aroma is part of my cultural heritage. As a Galafruxian—”
“Just get out of the damned way!” Frux demanded.
Gurflug was forced to back down the corridor—he was too big to turn around—until he got back to the mess hall with Frux berating him all the way. I had no doubt this was going to somehow be my fault in Gurflug’s mind too, but I couldn’t deny that I got satisfaction from watching the scene.
The noise must have drawn attention because several of the other Crew members—most of them at least half Brute, to judge from their horns—came out of the Crew Quarters to see what all the commotion was about.
“What the fuck’s goin’ on?” one of them—a huge, beefy Brute whose horns were painted dark green asked. His uniform shirt was rumpled and open to the waist, showing a chest so hairy it looked like he had a pelt.
“Hello, Jerx,” Snuffy said. “Frux is trying to get past one of our new navvies. Yes he is. Yes he is. This is the other one,” he added, nodding at me.
“My name is Cass, ship’s navigator,” I said, sticking out my hand in what I hoped was a manly gesture.
Instead of taking my hand, the beefy Brute named Jerx looked me up and down. His black eyes went half-lidded in a way that made me feel distinctly uncomfortable.
“Well, ain’t you a pretty little thing?” he said, grinning at me. “Catamite, are you?” This brought a burst of trollish laughter from the other Brutes around him.