Sexy Skyship Babes (Patreon)

AN: It has been suggested that I post this here. This is not me starting a new series while the other one is still going. That's bad mojo.

However, I doubt it will shock anyone to learn that when I'm burnt-out from writing... I write other things.

It's my way of unwinding and just... having some no-pressure fun.

So, I figured I'd share the content. Why not? I've got a few half-finished chapters of this mostly pornographic series bumming around on my hard-drive.

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Roger watched the clouds float by beneath him as he stood at the rail of the Arrogance. The steel airship was making good time as it plowed through the skies, it’s rear-mounted propellers providing a pleasant hum that he could feel through the humming of the deck.

It was a glorious view, and one made all the more exciting for the fact that the white cliffs of his floating homeland were growing smaller by the moment rather than larger.

Soon he would be free. For eighteen long years he had played the part of the dutiful son. Bent to the cultural expectations of this new world.

Sure, he’d soon be being married off to one woman or another, but he could think of a few ways to wiggle out of that arrangement in such a manner that he wouldn’t be left completely cut off from his new family’s rather abundant wealth.

Or simply browbeat his new wife into accepting his… eccentricities.

His joyful reverie was cut short though, as his elder sister made herself known,

She looked suitably dashing in her captain’s outfit, the white shirt open in a manner that was popular amongst sailors, as it helped keep out the heat. Lace decorated the cuffs and collar of her outfit, with breeches of velvet. Across her right lapel were the marks of her station, the brash polished until it gleamed in the mid-morning sun.

And while he himself had been quite rightly denied the uniform of a man of the Imperial Navy – were that such a thing still existed – he liked to think that his own outfit was of equal impressiveness.

Not least of all because it was functional. While his rebirth in this strange new world had required him to grow accustomed to a great many things, he drawn a line in the sand at the some of the more ridiculous outfits being put out for men.

Given that, if one ignored the airships and magic, this world was basically analogous to the Victorian era – with men filling the role of the women and vice vera – one could well imagine what sort of ruffled monstrosities were currently being worn by men across the continent.

To that end, he had chosen to dress himself in a simple buttoned leather jacket with a white cotton shirt and brown pants combo. A pairing that would have not looked at all out of place in the time of his great-great-grandfather – a man who had lived in a time where the man-pox was a distant issue and men still acted like… well, men.

Something his grandfather had tried to emulate as best he could, before passing the tradition down to Roger. Which was part of the reason why the saber hung at the young noble’s side was not entirely for decoration.

Unlike his old world, this was a world where women could expect five daughters for every son. Which was why the old man had argued that it made more sense, not less, for a young man to learn how to defend himself. That Roger had all the talent of a left-handed blowfish was irrelevant. It was the principle of the thing.

“Ah Roger, I do hope you are settling in well enough. I understand that sky travel is not for everyone,” his sister said.

Roger smiled. He and his sister had been nigh inseparable once upon a time, but years and distance had done much to make them strangers to each other. Through no fault of their own. It was simply the reality of things once she was shipped off to the Imperial military academy before subsequently beginning her career as a Royal Navy officer.

Truth be told, this was the first time they had spoken in years – and it was as he was making debutante tour.

Still, he knew she cared. She could not show it, given the realities of her station, but he could see in her eyes.

“I thank you for your concern sister, but I am fine. Truth be told I find the rocking of this vessel to be quite relaxing when compared to similar experiences aboard my own craft.”

Elwin paused, raising an eyebrow. “Your own craft? I was not aware that you had ever even ridden an airship, yet alone owned one. Has mother finally overcome her spendthrift ways?”

“Ah my apologies for the miscommunication, sister.” Roger chuckled shaking his head.  “When I said ‘my own vessel’, I was referring to a small maritime sloop currently held in trust at our grandfather’s summer house.”

“…Ah, a maritime vessel.” While the woman continued to smile in a genial manner, there was no disguising the slightly waxy nature of it.

Which wasn’t entirely unexpected. His older sibling had never much cared for their grandfather’s attempts to ‘make a man of him’ and had vehemently protested Roger’s annual summer trips to the old man’s estate as a child – even once she had been shipped off to the academy.

“I suppose I shouldn’t have put it past the old fossil to teach you to sail rather than something respectable.”

Roger just smiled, making no comment.

The advent of aether-crystals and airships in this world – along with the fact that all land mass floated about a kilometer above the sea - had left conventional maritime travel to be seen as the vocation of the poor or desperate in this world. Never mind the fact that conventional sea-bound vessels were still an integral part of many shipping industries – given the incredible price of even a single aether crystal.

Regardless, playing about on an ocean bound vessel was not considered an appropriate vocation for a young nobleman to pursue.

“Regardless of her low birth, the Meteor was and is a fine vessel.” Was all he had to say on the subject.

“I’m sure it was.” Though his sister said the words, every ounce of her bearing implied the opposite.  “Though I think you will agree that the Arrogance makes for a for more impressive means of travel. In fact, if you would come with me, I’d be happy to show you to the bridge.”

“Actually, I find myself rather interested in seeing the launch bays.”

That peculiar rebuttal seemed to take Elwin off-guard

“You wish to see the Shards? I suppose I could have the pilots brought to the dining room. They’re a little rough around the edges, as all shard-jockeys are, but I can promise you that both are women of good breeding.”

Was… was his sister trying to play matchmaker for her pilots? True, that was the purpose of a young man’s debutante tour, but he’d not really been expecting to meet any of his potential suitors before he’d even stepped off the ship.

Then again, both of those women would likely have gone to the academy with his sister prior to being posted to her ship and thus were undoubtedly her friends. A friendship they had no doubt leveraged to get ‘ahead of the competition’ as it were.

Muddling through his thoughts, Roger shook his head. “Not the pilots, though I’m sure I would be delighted to meet them in time.”

With that small olive branch extended, he bit his lip, hope sparking in his chest as he eyed his older sibling. “I was rather hoping to peruse their craft. And the launch mechanisms for them. I am to understand that the Arrogance is a newer vessel, so would it be incorrect of me to assume that you are equipped with the new catapult launch system?”

Naked confusion seemed to dance in his sister’s eyes before one more that same waxy smile slid into place.  “Ah, I see that your youthful preoccupation with Shard-craft has yet to leave you.”

Roger’s smile remained in place.

His love of the relatively newly developed fast flying fighter craft was no secret, as much as his mother might wish it was. Once upon a time his room had been covered end to end in scale replicas of the wonderous machines.

Perhaps his love of the machines was genuine. Perhaps it was a form of homesickness. He didn’t know.

What he did know was that Shards were essentially the biplanes of World War One from back on Earth, in both form and function – and he couldn’t get enough of them. Not least of all because of his plans to emancipate himself involved the creation and distribution of a diesel-powered model as an alternative to the current aether-dust magi-tech creations the locals used.

The development of which would no doubt be incredibly expensive, and was a large part of why he hadn’t just abandoned his family and their considerable wealth the first time they told him he needed to ‘preserve’ his chastity for marriage.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that will be possible.” Her tone was apologetic, but brooked no argument. “For me to bring a young man – yet alone my brother - down to the lower decks, with the dregs and engineers…”

She shook her head. “No, it simply isn’t done. I could not guarantee your safety in such close confines. I’d have women out here receiving lashes for their wandering hands before we even made it through the first hallway.”

The corners of his mouth dropped a little, but he made no complaint. He would, after all, be free to do as he wished soon enough. There was no point in ruining a two decades long plan over something as small as this.

“I suppose you are correct. I apologize for my outlandish request. I blame the excitement of the last few days for heating my blood.”

Elwin looked relieved.

“With that said, if you would like to meet the pilots of the machines, I’m sure they would be happy to speak to you on the topic at length.”

Roger recognized the small olive branch for what it was, and was about to accept it gratefully – fully cognizant that his sister was trying in her own way – before he was interrupted by the arrival of a pair of swarthy looking sailors.

“Beggin’ your pardon ma’am, but the lieutenant told me to inform you that there’s a ship been spotted on the horizon.”

Even as the young woman spoke, her and her companion’s eyes darted to Roger every few seconds. Something he easily ignored. Just about every woman aboard had been doing the same thing since he’d arrived on the ship and he’d learned to ignore it. Even if it was hard at times not to just… give in to the temptation such gazes presented.

Elwin scowled slightly, before sighing. “Apologies little brother, I will have to see to this.”

“Do as you must, I understand.” As ever, he played the part of the dutiful little brother.

“My thanks.” Then she was off, stomping towards the bridge. “This had better be important, sailor. This is my first meeting with my beloved little brother in…”

Her voice trailed off as she entered though a doorway leading to the raised bridge.

To his surprise though, while the sailor that had spoken had left with his sibling, the other had remained behind. Rather she just stood there, doing a poor job of pretending not to stare at him. Roger watched her for but a moment, before turning his gaze towards the horizon. If she wanted to stare, she was welcome to it. It wasn’t like it harmed in – and to be honest, he rather enjoyed the flattery.

He had worked hard to develop the muscles of this new body after all, and was ever happy to have them appreciated. Teasing the women of this new world with his morning workouts was an indulgence that had yet to get old.

For if he was expected to remain both pent up and chaste, it was only fair that he take some of that frustration out on the women around him.

To that end, he tugged at the collar of his shirt, exposing just a hint of collarbone, enjoying how the sailor tensed just slightly.

It amused him to think that he was effectively performing the equivalent of ‘showing off his ankles’.

Pseudo-Victorian-era sexuality was a strange pent-up beast.

With his other eye, he watched as a spec in the distance slowly grew. Eventually an airship began to take shape as its features grew more and most distinct.

It was not beautiful in the conventional sense as it plowed through the clouds. The lines were too stark and utilitarian for that. Yet, Roger could not deny that there was a certain majesty in that stark utilitarianism.

He would fully admit that his own proclivities no doubt played a role in that assertion, yet he thought it did not make it any more untrue.

If the Arrogance was a noble’s hunting hound, impeccable breeding backed up by the best grooming money could buy, then this incoming craft was a workhorse. An animal designed not to be immortalized by an artist’s brush or a poets words, but rather to quietly churn away in the background, continuously and without complaint, stopping only when too broken to go on.

“She’s moving at a fair clip for a cargo ship though,” he murmured to himself. “Is she running from something?”

He understood that pirates were something of a problem over the Cyan Sea. Was this transport attempting to seek cover under the Arrogance’s guns?

Of course, that was when he noticed the twin flags waving from the mast of the great vessel.

The first was for the Avernorn Principality.

The Kingdom’s current foe in the ongoing trade dispute over the rights to mine in the Cloudy Strait. It was a small war by any real measure. The sort of ongoing border conflict that flared up between great powers every now and then. One that would likely be resolved one way or another within the year, with each side pledging undying friendship with the other once more – until the next war came along in a few years.

What still his blood just a little though was not the flag itself, for even if the vessel was that of a hostile nation, it was still supposedly just  a transport. No, what truly wiped the smile from the young man’s spine was the second flag flying beneath the first.

The skeletal white kraken on a black background.

The international symbol for piracy in the high skies. Effectively the local equivalent to the skull and crossbones. And before Roger’s widening eyes, false panels dropped away from the vessel to reveal massive gun ports – and a single Shard launch bay.

As the all-hands bell began tolling Roger felt momentarily lost as to what to do, before the woman from before grabbed his arm. “Uh, you better come with me your lordshipness. The Captain will probably be wanting you on the bridge.”

Personally Roger thought it might be wiser to head back to the cabin and lock his door, but he didn’t argue as the young sun-kissed woman started guiding him to the bridge. All around them the ship was a riot of activity as sailors manned the Arrogance’s cannons.

Sa: She’s launching a Shard!

Roger didn’t see who shouted those words, but he did see the pirate Shard as it tore overhead, glittering sparkles of mana residue trailing behind the fighter craft from its aether-dust engines. The noise was incredible. A low whine that seemed to reverberate through his very bones as the sailor dragged him through a nearby doorway.

This wasn’t good. Not good at all. He had plans. Big plans. And none of them involved being captured and subsequently sold off by pirates.

In no time at all, he found himself on the bridge, watching as Elwin frantically shouted at the comm officer as the glass around them vibrated from the noise of cannons firing and the whirring of the Shard.

“What do you mean the Shards can’t launch!?” She roared. “Those pirates are tearing us up.”

As if to punctuate her point, fire from the enemy shard strafed across the front of the ship, the chattering fire from its gatling guns rendering one of the swivel-cannons into little more than slag.

The beleaguered comm officer could only stammer a reply as she all but hid herself amongst the many piped that let her communicate with other sections of the ship. “The catapult system has malfunctioned. The, uh, the officer on duty is suggesting it might be sabotage.

“Blast it all, we should have that damnable fighter outnumbered four to one by now. Instead it’s tearing us up like a Unification Day Ham.” She paused. “Though, if there’s a saboteur... that means this was planned. An ambush. Which means they must also know about the aether-crystals in our cargo hold.”

Roger licked his lips as he processed that bit of info. He hadn’t known that the Arrogance was carrying such valuable cargo. Though he supposed it made sense, even if the Captain was a member of the family, one didn’t charter a ship of the line from the Royal Navy just to take a single young man on a tour across the continent in a search for possible matches.

No, it was likely his presence was merely coincidental to the ship’s real goal of delivering the incredibly valuable air-buoyant crystals.

Clutching her forehead as she muttered to herself, his sister’s eyes widened as she suddenly seemed to realize that Roger was present. As did a number of the bridge crew.

“Roger!? What are you doing here?”

Truth be told, he didn’t know himself.

“Actually, I followed…” He turned to point to the sailor that had direct him here, but the woman was gone. Well, shit, had he just been set up? Was this revenge for teasing her before?

Lost for any reasonable response, he turned back to Elwin who bit her lip, before speaking. “Alright, just stay there. Don’t touch anything. And, uh, try to stay low.”

Well, he had no problem with that. Barring the captain’s quarters, the bridge was probably one of the safer spots on the ship.

Her words delivered, his sister turned back around, her attention entirely on directing her ship in the ongoing battle.

As the reincarnated young man watched, the Arrogance exchanged a broadside with the pirate ship as the two entered firing range. Cannon fire blasted the Arrogance with a withering volley of shot that left several crewmen down, blood staining the metal deck.

Perhaps if he himself hadn’t already died and been reborn once, the sight of such death might have disturbed him more than it did. As it was, he found himself idly wondering if they too were now off to be reincarnated in another world?

He didn’t know. Just as he didn’t know whether any others from earth had been reborn in this world like himself?

He’d certainly seen no indication of such.

Idly, Roger recalled his grandfather’s explanations that most of the casualties in a ship battle were caused not so much by cannon fire itself, but by the shrapnel created by the passage of cannonballs through the ship.

He could certainly believe it as he watched splinters fly ever which way as cannonballs blasted through railings and bulkheads.

…He could only imagine the scene below decks, where most of the cannon fire had landed.

Glancing up from the grisly scene, he saw that the Avernornian ship had not come out of the exchange unscathed either, smoke billowed from a number of holes in its steel hull. It was good to see that his sister was giving as good as she got.

Unfortunately, the enemy had one advantage she lacked.

An operational shard.

And much like torpedo bombers at the height of World War Two, the nimble fighter-bombers were proving to be a deadly effective armament when employed against the slow moving airships of this new world.

To such an extent that while Roger had heard no rumors of any nation employing any dedicated fighter carrier craft – instead retrofitting ships of the line to carry anywhere between one and four – he didn’t doubt they’d show up eventually.

Or he’d invent them himself.

Just as he had the thought a massive explosion rocked the deck.

“Enemy shard just took out our starboard propellor.” One of the women said calmly, but with a definite undertone of tension in her voice. “We’re listing.”

His sister shook her head. “The ballasts will compensate. Hopefully that means they’re out of bombs though. They’ll either have to return to rearm or rely on their gatlings going forward.”

As Roger watched, the enemy ship loomed large in the bridge viewport, and for the first time he saw the name emblazoned on the side: The Misty Grave.

Amusing. Like a play on ‘Water Grave’, but for airships.

“She’s trying to cut us off. Go low.” His sister instructed. “Even with one propellor, if the Arrogance can get passed her she can outpace her.”

A second volley of cannonade killed more of Elwin’s crewwomen as she ordered the airship to turn to starboard, relying on her single remaining port-side propellor to power the turn.

Unfortunately, as the Arrogance inevitably slowed to turn, harpoon grapples shot out from the Misty Grave, latching onto the foredeck of the Arrogance. Royal Navy sailors rushed forward with axes to cut the steel cables, the banking shard strafed across the deck at just the wrong – or right – moment to cut down many of them.

Whoever the pilot was, they were skilled.

“We just lost power to the port propellor. We’re drifting.”

Elwin scowled. “There was no explosion.”

Indeed, the enemy ship had stopped firing now that once the grapple lines had fired.

“I, uh, I’m getting no response from damage control team three either. Guns five through ten have gone silent. I’m getting reports of some kind of noxious gas in the gun decks,” the comm officer all but squeaked.

His sister cursed. “Yet more work of our saboteur, no doubt. I’d send a unit of marines down there, but the bitch timed her move well. Tell the women to prepare to repel borders. We’ll deal with our spy later.”

Even as the boarding-bell began to ring and the women down below unsheathed blades as Royal Marines formed up into a square with rifles in hand, figures from the pirate ship began to appear. They zipped down the grappling lines with the aid of a peculiar hook like device.

They were a disparate bunch. Clad in vibrant and outlandish clothes, there were tall women with blonde hair from the Northern reaches, swarthy women from the equatorials and even a number of dark skinned southerners. Hell, Roger could even see a yellow skinned far-easterner towards the back of the group, what looked suspiciously like a katana held in her hands.

That was another way this world emulated his own. While the nations all had different names, the different cultures and phenotypes of humanity roughly translated to what they would back home.

For instance, the Kingdom had a rather distinctly British Empire vibe to it, while the attacking native Avernornians would best be described as Spanish in culture and bearing.

It was just another of those oddities of this world that he had no real answer for, even after living in it for eighteen years.

Unfortunately, just as the Arrogance’s marines were grouping up to let loose a deadly volley of musket fire into the boarders, the shard from earlier looped over the Arrogance, nimbly and skillfully slipping between the steel boarding cables before firing a lance of bullets straight through the mass of marines in a maneuver that spoke of almost supernatural skill.

“Damn mad woman!” His sister cursed as the craft, almost arrogantly, banked up away into the deep blue sky.

Roger had to agree as he watched the sailors below whoop and holler as the Royal Navy sailors looked on in horror. In a moments the momentum of the coming fight was reversed as the pirates charged in to clash with the reeling sailors.

The battle didn’t last long from there. The boarders were as skilled as they were fearsome, and with the Arrogance’s marine contingent gutted at the start of the fight by the shard’s ballsy maneuver, the first surrenders from the regular crew weren’t long in waiting.

Finally, his sister sighed, defeated. “The battle is lost. Ring the bell to abandon ship. I want a fighting retreat to the gliders.”

The admittance seemed to take something out of her as she slumped. And despite his rather dispassionate observation of… everything, Roger wanted to comfort her in that moment.

Second life or not, she was his sister.

Which was why he crushed down his urge to go over and hug her. She wouldn’t appreciate it. Not here and now. Later perhaps, but not in front of her subordinates.

Which made perfect sense if one imagined the same but in reverse, a young man being comforted by his younger sister moments after his first defeat.

No, it was better for everyone if he just stayed where he was.

Which proved to be the optimal choice, as less than a moment later his older sibling surged back to life. “Come on Roger, we need to get you to the life-gliders. Once you’re safe I can oversee the rest of the evacuation. If we move quickly we can hopefully deny them the Arrogance as a-”

Whatever else his sibling might have said was cut off as the door to the bridge was kicked open and a group of pirates spilled in. Elwin cursed as she reached for her blade, along with other members of the bridge crew.

“To arms!”

The two groups collided and Roger quickly lost sight of his sibling amidst the ensuing brawl. Instead, he found himself backed against a wall by a trio of pirate women. After a moment of hesitation, in which they realized that yes, there really was a man on the bridge, a most discomforting smile stole over their features.

Ironically, Roger wasn’t too worried. Or rather, he wasn’t too worried about himself. As both a man and a noble, he was too valuable to kill out of hand. More than anything else, the pirates across from him would be looking to capture him alive.

Which was why, it didn’t surprise him when the leader sheathed her blade and stepped forward, one scarred and weatherworn hand held out in a vain attempt at reassurance – or perhaps intimidation.

“Alright pretty boy, hands up and old Triana won’t have to be rough with you. Be a good lad, eh.”

Roger punched. A solid uppercut that the otherwise quite dangerous pirate seemed utterly unprepared for and as such made no attempt to dodge or block.

It was almost comical, the cross eyed look of confusion on her face before she slumped backwards, hitting the floor with an audible thud.

The two women with her stared down at their downed friend before looking back at him in total befuddlement.

It was amusing to him, how it seemed that the entire world seemed to have forgotten that despite men now being too valuable to risk in combat, the average man still weighed significantly more than the average woman.

And while the scarred veteran pirates across from him were undoubtedly stronger than the average woman, he was also stronger than the average man.

After all, the muscles running across his body weren’t just for looking good.

“One down, two to go.” He muttered as he drew his blade.

If he could overcome these two then he might be able to aid his sibling in fighting clear to the gliders. As he raised his blade above his head he-

Thud.

The sound of his sword sticking deep into the hardwood surface above his head was not ideal, and a casual tug at the stuck implement proved that, no, it wasn’t about to budge anytime soon.

He could almost hear his grandfather chiding him from across time.

Roger, I just don’t get it. I’ve never seen someone dance around their opponent in a boxing ring quite like you, but put a sword in your hand and you go to shambles? I don’t know. It’s like you suddenly develop two left arms and two left feet.

“Ah,” he said, turning back to his now armed opponents. “Any chance we could talk about this?”

He got off a single swing, hitting one in the jaw before they rushed him. From the front and the back, because it seemed some of their friends had arrived while he was being disarmed by a cupboard.

And stronger than them or not, he wasn’t about to beat veteran sailors in a brawl.

…That did not however mean he was going to make this easy for them.

He grunted as he was driven onto his back, arms and legs flailing. He felt hands all over his clothes, tearing the buttons on his shirt, yanking at his pants, and fiddling with the clasps on his belt.

Perhaps another man might have felt horrified by that, and while he wasn’t exactly enjoying the rough treatment, he was more annoyed by the destruction of one of his favorite shirts than anything else.

He continued to lash out with his arms and legs, only to have the breath driven from him as a heavyset woman landed heavily on his stomach, straddling him. Her leering face and not insubstantial breasts filled as she leered down at him.

“Nice muscles. Very nice. And you apparently know how to use them looking at old Triana.” She leaned forward about to do… something, when she was grabbed by the scruff of her shirt and bodily hauled off him.

Oh, thank god. This was now how he wanted to lose his virginity in this new world.

“Get off him you bitches!” The dark skinned long legged woman shouted, her caramel skin glistening with a combination of soot and blood as she waved a saber about with casual authority.

“Aww Cap'n, we was just having a little fun with him,” one of the nearby women said. “And look what he did to Triana.”

The captain was unimpressed both by the words and the downed form of her subordinate.

“Honestly, you lot see a pretty lad and you all go cunt mad. We’re lucky enough to find a noble lad on this ship and you’re all set to rape him in the halls? Do any of you have an earthly idea how much an untouched noble boy is worth as a ransom?”

The woman who’d just been thrown off him stood up, eying the pirate captain grudgingly. “It's not like he’d be going around admitting the whole crew had a go at him, Cap'n.”

The captain glared at her subordinate. “Nay, I doubt he would, but knowing you mongrels he’d more likely as not have come down with the pox by the time more than three of you had had your fun. And that would be a lot harder to hide.”

She eyed the women around her, and for the first time Roger realized that the sounds of fighting had come to an end. Not just on the bridge, but across the ship.

Glancing over, he was relieved to see that his sister was still amongst the living, albeit with a gash across her arm and staring with real hatred in the direction of her opposite number.

“Are you willing to risk barrels of gold for a single turn on a noble slick-dick? One that more likely than not will be as soft as your father’s scrotums by the time it’s your turn?”

The assembled pirates muttered under their collective breath, but none made any move to voice their objections.

Which was good. It seemed he wasn’t losing his second v-card today.

“Leona.”

The now named Leona turned, real surprise on her face as she saw Elwin under her people’s guard, along with the rest of the bridge crew.

“Elwin? As I live and breathe. You’re the captain of this boat? I mean, I knew the Arrogance would be headed this way with valuable cargo, but not who’d be captaining her.”

She chuckled. “Oh, this is a delight.”

His sister was less amused. “You dirty Avernorn scum. We’re barely a year out of the academy and you’ve already turned pirate.”

The familiarity between the two disparate women confused Roger, until he recalled that his sister had attended the internationally renowned Imperial Academy for Military Theory, rather than the Royal Academy for Young Women.

The Imperial Academy had been formed during the days of the now defunct Empire. The military institution was now run by the church and received officer aspirants from all across the former Empire territories - including Principality and the Kindgom.

The idea was that by learning to be gentlewomen together, it would foster ties between the former Imperial nations and promote peace.

…Something that it was rarely successful in, given the current conflict between the Kingdom and Avernorn.

“Actually, I’m a privateer.” The Latina said, unphased by the insult. “Elsa and Ranorn are too.”

“As if there’s a difference!”

Leona just shrugged before she gestured out the window to where the hovering Shard was being reeled in by the Grave. “Elsa’s the one who tore up your ship in her shard, by the way.”

His sister snarled, but Leona just laughed. “Really, it’s a shame your own goons didn’t get an opportunity to show their own mettle – or lack thereof. I assume it’s Jenkins, Murtell, Lankin and Grey, right? Your usual cronies? “

Leona chuckled again when his sister didn’t correct her.

“And to think, I was worried that we might be in trouble if something went wrong with the sabotage. It’d be just like the old days back at the academy.”

Elwin glared up at her captor. “I’d call you an honorless cad, but I’m sure you’d take pride in it.”

Leona crouched down, looking his sister in the face. “See, that’s the problem with you Elwin. What you call honorless the rest of us call common sense combined with good planning. Which is why you’re now my prisoner and not the other way around.”

She stood up and turned, finally looking at Roger for the first time – Which left him feeling rather exposed, given the state of his shirt. Something the woman quickly picked up on as he watched her golden eyes widen with just a hint of interest as they roamed over his bare chest and stomach.

“Along with this delightful specimen of manhood.”

She licked her lips and despite the situation, Roger couldn’t help the little bit of stiffness that formed in his groin.

The woman looked good.

“Though I do find myself curious as to why you had a man on board. I mean, I knew you were a rich girl, but I always thought you were too strait-laced to bring your boy toy with you on a deployment.”

She turned back around. “Did you finally loosen up after finally getting your commission?”

“No!” Elwin shouted.

The vehement denial seemed to catch the pirate captain – or privateer – off guard, before a look of realization stole over her features.

“Wait, is this that brother you were always going on about?” The woman didn’t wait for a response, cackling to herself. “He is isn’t he? And right now he’d be about the right age for his debutante tour as well now wouldn’t he. Is that what I interrupted?

His sister just glared.

“Oh, that’s too funny. I can’t wait until the other two hear about this. You know, once they’re done loading your unlaunched shards onto our ship. Along with those incredibly valuable aeither-crystals you were supposed to be protecting.”

She paused. “And your brother too I suppose.”

Despite her injuries, his older sibling surged forward, forcing the pirate behind her to pull her back. “Don’t you dare touch him you skank.”

Leona ignored his sister as she leaned down towards him. “Tell me boy, has anyone popped your groomhead yet?”

“No. I imagine we have that in common.”

He resisted the urge to smirk as a small tic seemed to form on the woman’s face. Taunting his captor probably wasn’t wise, but he hadn’t exactly enjoyed nearly being raped or the way she’d been taunting his own flesh and blood.

“Feisty.” She said finally. “I definitely see the family resemblance now.”

Finally, the hard veneer his sibling had put up seemed to crumble. “Leave him be Leona. He’s just a lad. Take me instead. I’m the heir to the family. I’m worth more.”

That was a lie. Perhaps it might have been different if Elwin was an only child, but she and Roger had two other sisters who could fill in as heir in the event that something… happened. It was a big part of the reason why Elwin had been allowed to take on a military commission in the first place.

Roger though? His gender alone made him valuable in a world where men were rare.

Leona seemed to consider the words before shaking her head. “I would, but thenwho would pay your bounty? In my experience the next head of a family is more likely to write the previous off as dead rather than paying to have them released.”

She shrugged. “Don’t worry though, we’ll tack your price onto your brothers. If you want to see him again, I’d keep that in mind when you finally get back home.”

The Avernorn captain gestured for her women to force all the prisoners up, and Roger had little choice but to comply as no less than four women forced him upright. He’d like to think that was out of respect for what he done to the downed Triana – who was also being scooped up – but he knew the real answer was that they just wanted to unsubtly grope the half-clothed male. He could already feel one hand probing at his abs while another pinched his ass.

“Girls, herd the survivors onto the gliders then we’ll see if we can’t get this rust bucket underway.”

As they moved through the blood and soot stained hallways of the ship, Roger looked up as he found his sister edging closer to him. “Be strong brother. You need only endure until I can get your ransom paid.”

Roger nodded. “I will sister. Do not worry for me. I shall persevere.”

Oh, he’d do more than persevere. These pirates had no idea what they were in for. He had eighteen years of sexual frustration built up – yes, eighteen – and he’d just found a series of consequence free targets on which to vent it.

The two siblings were yanked apart as the young nobleman was lead up the gangway of the now docked Misty Grave. He tried to ignore the leering looks he received from those pirates he passed on the way, or the looks of pity he received from the surviving crew members of the Arrogance.