Bethiah – Corsair Brothers Read Online Ruby Dixon

Categories Genre: Alien, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 166095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 830(@200wpm)___ 664(@250wpm)___ 554(@300wpm)
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Like she said, though, she’s not going to coddle me. I guess I’ll have to figure my own way out around this ship and decide where I’m going to sleep. With a wary look down the hall, I head in the opposite direction of Bethiah, since she said that part was the bridge. If this is laid out like the other ship, the Little Sister, that means there should be a mess hall and some cabins on the other end.

I peek through the next doorway and see what looks like the mess hall of the Little Sister, except smaller and far more cramped. There’s a machine that spits out noodles like they had, but this one’s blinking with all kinds of red lights, and a lone noodle hangs out of the dispenser, left behind after the last time someone prepared food. There’s a ton of discarded wrappers on the floor here and a very tiny table with just one chair. Bethiah is a slob, but I suppose that tracks with her personality, and that single chair tells me she’s used to being alone.

I find a few more chambers that look as cluttered as the mess hall, and one that has a woman’s clothing tossed all over it, with a bunch of space-looking guns scattered on the bed. That must be Bethiah’s room. It’s the only one with a bed except for one other small chamber that looks austere and slightly forbidding. It smells musty and instead of using the main lavatory down the hall, it has one of its own, with a sink attached to the wall.

I suppose this will be the most convenient for both of us, if I settle into this room. I can stay out of her way and then she won’t be sorry she was stuck with me. With a little sigh, I set my change of clothes down on the edge of the cot and look around at my bleak new surroundings.

Home sweet…home?

Two

BETHIAH

I pinch the bridge of my nose, watching Dora through the vid-screen on the ship. The silly human decided to take my holding cell for her bedroom. She wants to sleep like a prisoner. What the kef. I watch her for a moment longer, just to make sure I’m not seeing things, but yup. She’s getting comfortable in the holding cell and settles in on the cot.

Welp. I guess she’s safe enough there, even if it’s not the most comfortable spot. Then again, this ship wasn’t made for comfort.

I should never have taken her with me. I’m too keffing soft-hearted. It’s just that she has big eyes and soft yellow hair and her utter helplessness reminds me of…the one I will never speak of again. The one that broke all the pieces inside me.

She reminds me of a…fluffit. Those ridiculous, soft little puffball creatures on Homeworld that used to hop around on the ground and pollinate the low-lying flowers with their long noses. The same creatures that would panic and die, their hearts exploding out of fear, if you startled them. Fluffits aren’t in the wild anymore, because there’s no wild left on Homeworld. They exist only in contained, ultra-safe environments where they’re kept safe from the world outside. Only then do they thrive.

Yeah, Dora reminds me of those.

I’ve no idea how I’m going to keep my sweet little fluffit alive out here in the universe, but I know I have to try. She needs someone that won’t abandon her. Someone that will be her friend even when things are inconvenient. I might not be the most orthodox of buddies, but I’m loyal.

Well…loyal-ish.

Well…I’m loyal to those who are loyal to me.

Mostly.

It doesn’t matter. Dora needs a friend and I aim to be that friend. Plus, I knew when I looked at Ruthann, Ruth, and Ruthie, that they’d all stick together. They consider themselves sisters. Dora doesn’t have anyone, and I know how that goes. I’m the only person on this end of the universe that doesn’t want anything from her. I just recognize a fluffit when I see one, and since this galaxy chews up fluffits and spits them out, I’m going to be her friend.

I’m going to teach her how to be hard and ornery so she can take care of herself. Then I’ll boot her and send her off into the stars, because I work best alone.

I check in on Dora again, and sure enough, she’s settled into the prisoner cot, still hugging her bundle of clothing. Her eyes are big and dark, and as I watch her, she sniffs and then swipes at her face. Crying. Tears. I hate tears.

I turn off the feed, because that’s enough for me. She’ll harden up eventually. Instead, I drum my fingers on the control panel, looking around at the ship. She’s an ugly, battered thing, but I like strangely ugly things, and her engine hums like a song. I pet her, considering the new name I’ll take up for her. Rhonda liked circuses, human shows with extreme, strange things. And while I still hate Rhonda with every fiber in my being, I appreciate the sentiment of the strange. I’ll call the ship The Bearded Lady this time, I think.



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