Pirate: Space Gypsy Chronicles, #1 by Eve Langlais

foil packet from her and, tilting his head back, held the packet over his mouth before squeezing it. A sinuous glop emerged and dropped into the open orifice. He didn’t chew—why bother when it was already paste?—and swallowed.
    He arched a brow. “See? No biggie. Just fuel for the body.”
    Fuel. Right. Before she could talk herself out of it, she shoved her finger in her mouth. The goo didn’t make her gag. It didn’t make her smile either. It did nothing. It was flavorless paste that she swallowed.
    “Was that so bad?” he asked.
    “I miss real food already. Is that all you aliens eat? This goop?”
    “Only when we’re on long voyages. Ships doing short runs will bring perishables on board, and, of course, the inhabited planets offer their own culinary experience, most of which we can also imbibe. But be sure to ask first. Our digestive systems can’t handle certain delicacies.”
    “And how long until we get to eat real food again?”
    “Long enough that you can’t avoid eating these.” He tossed the foil packet at the wall, and as it hit, a circle etched onto it, and the wall opened and swallowed the waste. “That’s the garbage disposal unit. I expect you to use it.”
    “Are you a neat freak?”
    “Not exactly. Dirty ships are more likely to suffer rodent problems.”
    “You have space rats?”
    “Just plain rats, the same as you have on earth. And cockroaches. Those are the two organisms that seem to thrive on every ship and planet in the universe.”
    “What about spiders? I hate spiders.” She shuddered.
    “In that case, you might want to avoid the Arracknai planet. Although, I will say, their webbed architecture is quite fascinating.”
    “I thought I saw a fluffy thing when I first came on board. It was—”
    “You saw Kuku? He was my old crewmate’s pet. Stupid thing escaped from its cage and has been roaming the ship.”
    “Is it dangerous?”
    “Only if you choke on it. They are considered a delicacy on a few planets.”
    Eat it? Uh, no thank you. “How many different species of aliens are there?” she asked as he headed out the door.
    “Are we talking sentient or in general?”
    “Sentient. You know, like you and me.”
    “I don’t know. Annabelle, how many sentient races are we aware of?”
    “Three thousand and forty-seven. However, there are over 700 more that might eventually achieve ascendance and join the ranks of the sentient.”
    “What does ascendance mean?”
    “Races that develop the technology to leave their planet. Humans are on the brink.”
    “We’ve gone to the moon.”
    “Did you?” He winked. “Even if the supposed landing was a hoax, your kind are fairly close. Once you solve the issue of artificial gravity and a renewable power source, you’ll be joining the federation of developed planets.”
    “Which means?”
    “Nothing.” He shrugged. “Think of it as the NATO of space. Lots of talk, little action.”
    “I wouldn’t have called those bounty hunters they sent after you little action.”
    “It might not have been the federation that sent them. I’m a wanted man for many reasons.” He shot her a smile, not at all bothered by the fact that he kept painting himself as a criminal. “Here is the last room on this level, the sleeping quarters.” He spun the wheel and thrust open the door, displaying a space that wasn’t overly large and comprised mostly of bunks bolted to the walls. Eight beds in total and none of them wide enough for two. Not that she planned to share.
    “Where do you sleep?” she asked, wondering if he also suffered a tiny bed in his captain’s quarters.
    “That bunk there on the bottom.” He pointed to a disheveled one, no larger than the rest.
    The reply surprised her. “You sleep in here? Don’t you have your own room?”
    “Apparently you’re hard of hearing because I keep having to repeat myself. This isn’t a luxury cruiser but a merchant ship. As such, there is no excess room. In order to maximize