Corsair Quotes

We are exactly that, Signor. Corsairs, robbers, pirates. I, however, am also a bibliophile, and you are impeding my visit to the library. So either assassinate me now and get it over with, or kindly step aside.

In civilizations without ships, dreams dry up, espionage takes the place of adventure and the police take the place of corsairs.

He was a man of his times. with one virtue and a thousand crimes. (The Corsair)

He knew himself a villain—but he deem'd The rest no better than the thing he seem'd; And scorn'd the best as hypocrites who hid Those deeds the bolder spirit plainly did. He knew himself detested, but he knew The hearts that loath'd him, crouch'd and dreaded too. Lone, wild, and strange, he stood alike exempt From all affection and from all contempt

Oh, if we could end love just by willing it, life would be very different!' Tessa laughed. 'It's easier to end someone else's love for you than kill your love for them, or that you are someone they cannot respect-ideally both.' Her eyes were wide and gray and youthful; it was hard to believe she was older than nineteen. 'To change your own hear, that's nearly impossible.

We can’t do this,” I tell her, caressing her cheek with my thumb. “It’s not right.” “What’s not right about it? We haven’t even gotten to the tongues yet.” Tongues? Have mercy.

The island of Lesbos has given many gifts to the world—Lesbian wine and Lesbian verse, the seven-stringed lyre, and the poems of Sappho; but of all its products the latest was assuredly the most questionable, for the last great Lesbians were the brothers Barbarossa.

He wondered if today was that day, if he’d wake up different, wake up someone else who remembered him fondly. A new Doctor. He wondered if he’d approve. Would he be more gentle? That might not be so bad. More vengeful? He hoped not. Maybe he’d be a girl. That was distantly possible. Never been a girl. The Corsair had been a girl for a while. New perspective. Confuse people. Keep life interesting.

It’s a spur? Your males don’t have one?” “What’s it for?” “Nothing, I imagine. It’s just there, like my tail. Maybe it had a use in the past, but now it’s just here to frighten sweet human females away from putting their mouths on mesakkah males.

The black spoke in a sea-coast dialect, and Conan replied; he had learned the jargon while a corsair on the coasts of Kush. “Long

These pearls are said to be rare, precious and beautiful, yet when I look at them now I see only bloodshed, greed and death. There are many creatures lying dead because of them, from the family of Grath down to countless searats and corsairs. But one touched our own lives deeply, a young Abbeymaid who was friend to us all. Piknim was slain because of these six pearls. Truly they are called the Tears of all Oceans. We have no need for things such as these at Redwall Abbey, life is a far more precious and beautiful thing. I give back to the oceans these six tears, so that they will never cause grief or sorrow to any living creature!

792. Thief.-- N. thief, robber, homo trium literarum, pilferer, rifler, filcher, plagiarist. spoiler, depredator, pillager, marauder; harpy, shark, land-shark, falcon, moss-trooper, bushranger, Bedouin, brigand, freebooter, bandit, thug, dacoit, pirate, corsair, viking, Paul Jones; buccan-eer, -ier; piqu-, pick-eerer; rover, ranger, privateer, filibuster; rapparee, wrecker, picaroon; smuggler, poacher, plunderer, racketeer. highwayman, Dick Turpin, Claude Duval, Macheath, knight of the road, foodpad, sturdy beggar; abductor, kidnapper. cut-, pick-purse; pick-pocket, light-fingered gentry; sharper; card-, skittle-sharper; crook; thimble-rigger; rook, Greek, blackleg, leg, welsher, defaulter; Autolycus, Cacus, Barabbas, Jeremy Diddler, Robert Macaire, artful dodger, trickster; swell mob, chevalier d'industrie; shop-lifter. swindler, peculator; forger, coiner, counterfeiter, shoful; fence, receiver of stolen goods, duffer; smasher. burglar, housebreaker; cracks-, mags-man; Bill Sikes, Jack Sheppard, Jonathan Wild, Raffles, cat burglar. [Roget's Thesaurus, 1941 Revision]

These were all things which a youth chafing against the restrictions of a polite age admired: but when he met them in a rival he bitterly resented them, because he knew himself to be at a disadvantage, playing the Corsair’s rôle in front of the Corsair himself. Had

As the year goes on, certain deputies—and others, high in public life—will appear unshaven, without coat or cravat; or they will jettison these marks of the polite man, when the temperature rises. They affect the style of men who begin their mornings with a splash under a backyard pump, and who stop off at their street-corner bar for a nip of spirits on their way to ten hours’ manual labor. Citizen Robespierre, however, is a breathing rebuke to these men; he retains his buckled shoes, his striped coat of olive green. Can it be the same coat that he wore in the first year of the Revolution? He is not profligate with coats. While Citizen Danton tears off the starched linen that fretted his thick neck, Citizen Saint-Just’s cravat grows ever higher, stiffer, more wonderful to behold. He affects a single earring, but he resembles less a corsair than a slightly deranged merchant banker.

I am many things, but an exhibitionist is not one of them.” He gestures at a recess down the hall that I’m starting to recognize as a ship door. “This is where our mess is. Come. You can eat and I can tell you all about how I won’t touch you without your permission.” “You keep adding that ‘your permission’ thing,” I point out. He glances down at me, and his eyes are warm, his smile inviting. “That is because, my sweet Fran, I plan on having your permission. Just not today.

Did you just try to kill me? Kef, that’s cute.

I'm not fixed. I'm as broken as ever. But you get better at hiding it. And you get better at being broken.

In many ways, the system of government, taxation and military organization developed by the Ottoman Empire in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries was the envy of Western Europe.

If you even suggest to my crew that you've threatened your way aboard my lady, I'll rip out your spine." "That's unbearably arousing.

He is very short-sighted and thus walks happily through this world blind to all its ugliness. For him, daily life passes in a pleasant blur.

Fuck anyone that tells you that you’re ugly,” I say to him. “I like your face.” He’s quiet for a long moment, as if he doesn’t know what to say. “Humans do have strange tastes after all.

I was a slave in the corsair Dragut’s own palace. I saw his women—Spanish, French, Italian, Irish. I was at the branding of all his poor children. To some women, degradation like that is the worst sort of torture.’ There was a small silence, in which Philippa’s epiglottis popped like a cork. Beside her, Jerott’s breathing faltered in the same moment and resumed, shallowly, as he went on straining to hear.

I love you,” I tell her plainly. “I will say it like a human and say I love you. I will say it like a mesakkah male and tell you that you have my heart. Either way, know that nothing has changed and I want you now as much as I ever have.

About an hour’s drive from Istanbul’s city centre, on the shores of the Black Sea, sat an old Greek fishing village called Kilyos, famous for its powdery beaches, small hotels, sharp cliffs, and a medieval fortress that had not once succeeded in repelling an invading army. Over the centuries, many had come and many had gone, leaving their songs, prayers and curses behind: the Byzantines, the Crusaders, the Genoese, the corsairs, the Ottomans, the Don Cossacks, and for a brief period, the Russians.

I wish you will tell me some of the things *you* have done!' He looked up quickly from the dish he was serving, his eyes hardening. She met that searching stare with a little inquiring lift to her brows, and saw his lips curl into the sneer which had made her liken him to the *Corsair*. 'I think not,' he said dryly. 'I said *some* of the things you have done!' she exclaimed indignantly. 'You can't have spent your whole life getting into idiots scrapes!' The ugly look vanished as he burst out laughing. 'Most of it, I assure you!

The Exo went pale when he realized what we were dealing with. Well, what he thought we were dealing with. I never really thought he was a paragon of courage, mister ‘I’ll-be-Captain-one-of-these-days’ Beckett. He wanted to turn a blind eye as it were, and keep going. Of course we didn’t want to break the law – or tempt karma… so the Captain over-ruled him and decided to stop. It was. A trap, I mean. But nothing like we thought – not something as mundane as Corsairs. Oh, no. And it didn’t spring on us till days later, when we were light-years away.

You’re the Rug Robber!” he proclaimed. “You’re the Carpet Crimp!—and the Candle Corsair too,” he continued, referring to two series of unsolved thefts which had been on the lips of all Lankhmar when he and Vlana had arrived a moon ago. The Mouser shrugged impassive-faced at Fafhrd, then suddenly grinned, his slitted eyes a-twinkle, and broke into an impromptu dance which carried him whirling and jigging around the room and left him behind Fafhrd, where he deftly reached down the hooded and long-sleeved huge robe from the latter’s stooping shoulders, shook it out, carefully folded it, and set it on a pillow.

In that century, a man adventuring by sea in the Mediterranean was likely to find the wheel of fortune turn full circle in a matter of a few hours. Dragut, greatest of all the corsairs after Barbarossa, saw La Valette when he was a galley slave and secured for him slightly more favourable conditions. Eight years later, when Dragut himself was captured by the Genoese admiral Giannettino Doria, Valette happened to be present. He sympathized with the corsair’s anger and remarked: ‘Monsieur Dragut—it is the custom of war.’ To which Dragut wryly replied, ‘And change of Fortune.’ Valette’s own captor, Kust-Aly, was in turn taken by La Valette, then chief admiral of the Order’s fleet, in 1554, and sent to the oars along with twenty-two other prisoners.

We got to see a Corsair ship up close – all matt black, no markings, no lights – and practically invisible out here in the dark! What a sight to behold! Most people don’t get to see those bastards up close. That is, for very long! Anyways, the ship was just floating there, no sign of life. Our hails weren’t being answered, and so we assumed the ship was dead in space. Captain Mulligan, gods-rest-his-soul, told me to form a boarding party of security and medics from the sickbay and that we were going over there. We weren’t a military ship, and we’re not Star Marines, so we were lightly armed and quite nervous. I mean, this wasn’t just some of my security section being called out to break up a fight at one of the bars on the promenade, this was serious life-and-death shit! So I said ‘okay’, and told my assistant supervisor, Lisa Garfner, to get them all together. Seven of us shifted over to the other ship with the transmatter (you still use those things, I take it?) not knowing what to expect. It could’ve been anything… and it was. It was crazy.

TWO hundred and thirty nautical miles southeast of Gibraltar, Oran perched above the sea, a splinter of Europe cast onto the African shore. Of the 200,000 residents, three-quarters were European, and the town was believed to have been founded in the tenth century by Moorish merchants from southern Spain. Sacked, rebuilt, and sacked again, Oran eventually found enduring prosperity in piracy; ransom paid for Christian slaves had built the Grand Mosque. Even with its corsairs long gone, the seaport remained, after Algiers, the greatest on the old Pirate Coast. Immense barrels of red wine and tangerine crates by the thousands awaited export on the docks, where white letters painted on a jetty proclaimed Marshal Pétain’s inane slogan: “Travail, Famille, Patrie.” A greasy, swashbuckling ambience pervaded the port’s many grogshops. Quays and breakwaters shaped the busy harbor into a narrow rectangle 1½ miles long, overwatched by forts and shore batteries that swept the sea to the horizon and made Oran among the most ferociously defended ports in the Mediterranean. Here

Byron’s diabolism, if indeed it deserves the name, was of a mixed type. He shared, to some extent, Shelley’s Promethean attitude, and the Romantic passion for Liberty; and this passion, which inspired his more political outbursts, combined with the image of himself as a man of action to bring about the Greek adventure. And his Promethean attitude merges into a Satanic (Miltonic) attitude. The romantic conception of Milton’s Satan is semi-Promethean, and also contemplates Pride as a virtue. It would be difficult to say whether Byron was a proud man, or a man who liked to pose as a proud man – the possibility of the two attitudes being combined in the same person does not make them any less dissimilar in the abstract. Byron was certainly a vain man, in quite simple ways: I can’t complain, whose ancestors are there, Erneis, Radulphus – eight-and-forty manors (If that my memory doth not greatly err) Were their reward for following Billy’s banners. His sense of damnation was also mitigated by a touch of unreality: to a man so occupied with himself and with the figure he was cutting nothing outside could be altogether real. It is therefore impossible to make out of his diabolism anything coherent or rational. He was able to have it both ways, it seems; and to think of himself both as an individual isolated and superior to other men because of his own crimes, and as a naturally good and generous nature distorted by the crimes committed against it by others. It is this inconsistent creature that turns up as the Giaour, the Corsair, Lara, Manfred and Cain; only as Don Juan does he get nearer to the truth about himself. But in this strange composition of attitudes and beliefs the element that seems to me most real and deep is that of a perversion of the Calvinist faith of his mother’s ancestors.

Pearl Dale, the fabled corsair of Atlas who escaped the royal fleet of Sherwood and intervened in the private affairs of the foreign people of Agra to save one Squid crew from being tortured to death... you too have a reputation that is worthy of songs. Let it not draw a line between you and I.” - Claudio Drago da Venezia, Mermaid Island #1

She still thought of a possible Corsair who would be willing to give up all but his vices for her love, and for whose sake she would be willing to share even them. It was but a dream, but nevertheless it pervaded her fancy constantly.

Take my virginity,” she whispers, rubbing up against my chest. “Make it so no one wants to buy me ever again.

Quiggold whirled. Squeaky snorted. Reeg, particularly well-known for his grace and agility under fire, fell overboard and was immediately swept away by the increasingly volatile maelstrom of sand.

Sidon Ithano, the most dangerous pirate ever to sail the Lost Clusters beyond the Outer Rim, the most feared fighter of the skirmish of Adratharpe 7, the most notorious thief of his species, simply shrugged apologetically. He had met a lot of Weequay pirates. They were kind of everywhere.

Yes, even by the standards of the many dry and hot desert worlds that seemed more and more commonplace throughout the galaxy, the Gabdorin pirate thought, Ponemah was particularly overrun with an excess of sand.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” muttered the Ishi Tib. Quiggold glared at Pendewqell. “You have a bad feeling? Really? Now of all times you suddenly have ‘a bad feeling’?” The Ishi Tib looked a bit defensive. “It’s just a figure of speech….

I don’t want you doing this.” “I don’t want you to have a stick up your ass, but it looks like we’re both not going to get what we want.

and an axe-wielding but surprisingly friendly Gamorrean nicknamed Squeaky.

Well,” I say, watching them wrestle. “I was a little sad I didn’t get to spank the bird lady, and then I was really sad I didn’t get to shoot the praxiian in his floppy bits. But then I got to eat some pretty vegetables and some fruit and we went to a garden and I fed the birds and Mathiras kissed me sixteen times on the mouth and now we’re going to kiss some more and he’s going to show me how his penis gets hard.

We might never even have to fire a single shot.” I’m…glad? I guess. I was kinda hoping I could beat the bad guys for him, though.

My purpose is to take down bad guys and kiss Mathiras, and I’m ready for both.

I adore Mathiras, and I adore that big, caring brain of his, but sometimes a female just needs a penis put inside her already.

I want to grab you and flip you over onto this counter and pound into your tight cunt until you cream." His lips slide over my skin, his mouth hot on my neck. "I want to bury myself so deep inside you that you take every bit of my cock and beg for more. I want to tongue that pretty cunt of yours—because I know it'd be pretty—and have you drench my face with your honey.

Of all the towns of the department of Bolivar, Cartegena is the most picturesque. Not only is it the most old-world town of the department, but of the whole Republic and perhaps of the whole continent of South America... [it] was once the place of meeting of the great Plate fleet, that took the silver gathered together from all the mines of the New World, across the sea to Spain. Many a time the British and French corsairs hung off and on, just out of sight of land, to attack with varying degrees of success.

Below the clouds once reflected bodies of ocean teeming with all sorts of adventure. This was too long ago for anyone to recount stories. The world is no longer separated by the blue, nor made up of inhabited landmasses. This is a sky-faring world now. Any region is a piece of the puzzle. Seven to be exact. Soaring through clouds—and at varying altitudes, Skymen traverse the Seven Skies. Privateers, merchants, organized criminals, government-sanctioned entities, pirates, and simple sky-farers. The Skies belong to all. However, as sure as the East-risen Sun every morning, some have entitled themselves to ownership of all things. This is why the people of this world yearn for independence. However, as sure as the West-setting Sun every evening, Freedom demands her price.

(Corsair abilities shall slowly decrease or be revoked by an individual who does not conduct himself properly or wear appropriate

While on Jabba’s barge, the astromech droid had penetrated the Hutt’s data system, and alerted the goons who’d remained in Jabba’s palace that the Imperials were coming for them with death warrants. The Imperial ships could hardly ignore the flotilla of smuggler ships, corsair gunboats, and slave transports that lifted off from the Hutt’s compound en masse; and in the battle that followed, they failed to notice the single X-wing starfighter and Corellian freighter that rose away from Tatooine by a more discreet route.

I smile. It's a beautiful way of looking at things. I'm envious of how easy he makes it sound. Just ignore the ugly bits and the dark spots. Focus on the light and the happy.

The good things outweigh the bad in my life," Adiron says finally. "So those are the ones I focus on.

It has been claimed that, once assimilated, the Corsair ‘made the single biggest impact on Royal Navy aviation in the Second World War’.47 This was undoubtedly so, particularly given that over 2,000 of the type were delivered to the Fleet Air Arm between 1943 and 1945, with the first arriving in November of the former year.

The dey of Algiers took the occasion of the War of 1812 to renege on his treaty obligations with the United States;

The crew exchanged glances. There were six of them in all: the Corsair, Quiggold, Pendewqell, an Arcona named Reeg Brosna, a red-skinned female Twi’lek called Reveth, and an axe-wielding but surprisingly friendly Gamorrean nicknamed Squeaky.

Ensign Brown, if I’ve learned anything, it’s that death’s gonna get us all, but we’ve got some say in how we go. You die flying a Corsair, well, that says enough. Ensign

So they sailed forth, rushing to be the first to reach the prize. Scorza and his Weequay gang. The one-eyed Ortolan. Plus the Gray Gundarks, Toltek the Devaronian…

Damn you, Captain Black!” she yelled into the twilight. “This isn’t over yet! From hell’s heart, I stab at thee!

General, what’s the impact zone on the Moon?” “Eh? Hang on. Looks like…” He paused and then said, “Oh, darn.

He shrugged. “When I was younger, I tried to make a good impression on dates. I’d take girls out dancing, bribe the bouncers to get us into trendy clubs, follow all the rules on the pickup artist sites. And one day about five years ago, I realized something: I suck at dancing, I hate trendy clubs, and the women who fall for the standard pickup techniques are airheads. So now I do stuff I like to do anyway. If my date doesn’t like it, then we’re probably not compatible anyway.

Wine was a valued commodity in Tripoli, in spite of repeated attempts by Istanbul to outlaw the consumption of alcohol throughout the Ottoman Empire.

He’s dying!’ Doctor Cove, one of the ship’s two medical officers told me, looking at his med-scanner as he kneeled at the broken body of the only living Corsair on the black ship. I remember the look on his face as he told me – which seemed more to be puzzlement than actual concern. The man was a Corsair after all, and had injuries I could see, but he was conscious, and none of them looked fatal. But then, I’m no doctor. I never was any good at healing anything – and my job was doing the opposite, and I admit I’m pretty good at it. Always have been.

At forty two years, Sona Kilroy stood tall and strapping, a powerful figure. Rising to the rank of Admiral in the Corsair fleet was no easy feat. It took intelligence, talent, determination, resilience, creative thinking, brute force, and sheer cunning to achieve – and perhaps also a large slice of luck.

Thing to know about the Reaches....It’s always trying to kill you. Even the empty places between the stars." Asher Corsair, Allies and Enemies: Rogues

In 1784, he will also order his corsairs to capture a US merchant ship, the Betsey. Once they are taken hostage, the Sultan uses the members of the Betsey’s crew as bargaining tools, and in 1786 the US Congress agrees to a treaty establishing full diplomatic relations with Morocco.49 There are clear and significant

The survivor spoke to us though, or tried to. Mumbling through that matted brown beard of his, pale as death itself. I can’t say now if it was weakness from his wounds or what it was – but we struggled to understand him. In fact we got nothing intelligible from him at all then. He seemed afraid, like any dying man probably would be, but he did seem more terrified than any dying man I’ve seen before – and I’ve seen a few in my time. Let me tell you, Corsair or not, he grabbed whatever hand would hold his, and clenched it so tight his knuckles turned white! He kept fading out as we carried him on the stretcher board the medics brought with them. Looking back, I think he tried to warn us, poor bastard. He tried to tell us to leave him behind and go, but we wouldn’t listen. We thought we were better than the Corsairs, remember? We thought we would be all moral and upright and try to help him. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ were the last words he said before losing consciousness. At least, those that we could make out. At the end of it all, he was right – as it turned out, we couldn’t even help ourselves.

Imagine, if you will: Meradinis! The stuff myths are made of! The Turtle Island of the stars – home planet to the fearsome and once legendary Corsairs. The very name of this world immediately grabbed the imaginations of young boys and girls, and universally mesmerize dreamers and romantics alike. The truth though was less romantic – and as reality so often demonstrates in real life - instead rather ugly and brutal. The Corsairs were not corn-ball comics that went about with parrots on their shoulders, saying “Arr!” to everything they encountered. They were anything but. Behind the Corsairs and their culture lay a history fraught with a struggle to survive, a vengefulness and a cruelty – and a drive to survive by preying upon others that struck fear into the hearts of neighboring fringe worlds.

In the Black Palace, in the capital city below, the man know as the Patron – Martel the Mighty, ruler of this dark world - had packed his coffers and was now also, presumably, making good his escape. For the Corsair elite and ruling class – those whose hands were literally dripping blood, profiteering from the bloodshed and violence that terrorized dozens of worlds - escape was the only option left and he would not be the only one to mount an escape attempt, nor be the only one to succeed. For years to come, there would be countless bounties offered on missing prominent Corsairs that had slipped through the net, with the occasional report of so-and-so being spotted on some or other rim world, presumably sporting a new beard and a pair of sunglasses – which might have raised a few eyebrows in the case of the many female Corsairs.

Secure the exit!” He ordered. “Shut the doors! Don’t let any of them through!” One of his juniors nodded, turned, and ran for the exit, just as the sergeant took two hits in the shoulder pad and lower back armor that knocked him to his knees. He collapsed, blood spraying from a wound in his neck, eyes opened wide. The last thing he saw was the burst of fire from a nearby Corsair that took him down as well.

Meradinis! Turtle Island! It was a little corner of chaos! This was the scene the speeding black ship had left behind three days ago, fleeing in humiliating shame, those three days a constant running battle. For three days the accursed Imperial ship Indomitable had followed, firing on them at every opportunity. Death or imprisonment now awaited those who called themselves Corsairs – and though this death was now more certain rather than just a possibility, Sona Kilroy, or “The Hammer” as he was called by his men, was not prepared to give up his freedom so easily. Piracy was his life and he’d known no other. He was tough and cruel, a despicable man, a case in point when academics quoted the barbarism by which the Corsairs had made themselves known and feared across the star systems of the peaceful Terran Empire.

The boldest yodellers found him, impaled; they stumbled into his shop and over the longest needle in the world, which darned his spleen to the floor. He was buried in his rag coffin, under the altar of San Silvester. Strings were attached to his arms and legs, and whenever a pilgrim entered the chapel, an unseen jig was danced six feet below. The coffin is no longer there: by all accounts Morgan himself seized it for a sail. However, shards of the barber’s mirror can still be found on the hats of the locals, each carrying a reflection which arrived too late to convince a corsair of his humanity.

Half of the castle has, at one point or another, been burned down by a combination of Barbary corsairs, lightning bolts, Napoleon, and smoking in bed.

When I say you belong to me," I tell her between thrusts, "it doesn't mean that I own you. It means that I live for every breath you take, every twitch of your eyelash, every smile. It means I'll do whatever it takes to make you laugh. It may sound like I own you, but the opposite is true. You own me, my heart, my head, my spirit. I belong entirely to you.

You promised when we got back to the ship you’d show me how your penis grows.” Mathiras’s smile turns into a grimace. “There’s a slight problem with that.” Oh no. “What’s the problem?” “I’m afraid I’m already hard.” My eyes widen. He is? He said it happened when he got aroused. Does that mean our kisses were all it took? Or was it something else? “Can I see?” The look he gives me is so scorching my toes curl. “You really want to look.” Of course I do. Why does he even have to ask? I’m so eager to learn more about him, to learn how sex really is if the vids are all wrong. I know he’s fixated on going slow, but he doesn’t have to with me. He can show me everything and how to sex the right way, and I’ll be thrilled. “I’ve seen it before,” I remind him. “When it was all floppy and small.” The sound he makes is pained. “Helen, please don’t go around saying that to anyone else. You’re going to give Adiron far too much ammo if you do.” “Why would I give him ammo when I’m talking about your penis?” I feel like the two don’t have anything to do with one another. He sucks in a breath. “I’m just gonna say this once, so we get it out there. We’ve like, measured ours before. When drunk. All brothers do.” He throws his head back as if he’s talking to the ceiling. “Kef me, I can’t believe I’m saying this. But my penis isn’t small, Helen. I’m bigger than Kas and Adiron. A cock just looks different when it’s hard than when it’s soft.” “Which is why I want to see it,” I tell him eagerly. “And I don’t care how big Kas or Adi are. I’m not interested in seeing theirs.” I want to reach out and touch it, but I don’t have permission so I just give him hopeful looks.

Get comfortable with each other’s bodies? I’m not sure how much more comfortable I can be with his. “But you’ve seen me naked, Mathiras.” At my words, he looks shocked. “What? No, I haven’t.” Now I’m confused. “But we showered together on the station. Every time. We showered a lot. You held my hand when I got scared about being in there alone.” “Ah.” Realization dawns on him. “Yes, well, you might have been naked, but I didn’t look.” Now I’m really confused. “Why wouldn’t you look? I looked at you.” Mathiras’s mouth quirks in an almost-smile, like he’s fighting it. “Did you? What did you think?” I don’t want to hurt his feelings and point out that his male parts were floppier than I imagined. “Perhaps we shouldn’t discuss this after all.” He tilts his head, his horns catching one of the flickering lights from a server’s necklace and gleaming. Mathiras squeezes my fingers. “Wait, no. We’re talking about everything, remember? This is part of the process. What did you think of my naked body? Did you find it offensive?” “It wasn’t offensive,” I reassure him. “And I’m sure your penis will work just fine, no matter the size.” His face contorts, and I can’t tell if he’s about to laugh or if he’s choking. “My penis? You had a problem with my penis?” “Yours wobbles a bit more than the ones in the vids. And it’s not nearly as big or hard.” Mathiras’s shoulders hunch and jerk, and I worry he’s going to start crying.

They wave in the air as Alice continues to slide down into the newly formed pit, heading right for that thing's mouth. She screams again, and adrenaline races through me. I can't help it. I smile.

Poor Jade. Maybe she thought she could do this and she can’t. It must be hard to be separated from the male you love, especially after having a lot of sex. In the vids I’ve seen, everyone just goes crazy the moment a penis is exposed. It’s like the thought of mating overrides everything else, and maybe it’s like that for Jade.

Space pirates were no new thing, to the System. There were always some corsairs infesting the outlaw asteroids or the wilder moons of the outer planets. —Hamilton; Outlaw World (1945)

Durability: Indestructible

If you wrestle with a pig, you both end up muddy and only the pig is happy,

I don't know whether to be flattered or disgusted." "Be flattered. I always think of you first." "That's you," I tease. "Such a giver." His expression becomes heated and he steps up a rung of the ladder, then another. A moment later, his face is inches from mine, his horns dripping with rainwater and his blue skin silky-looking and wet. "I'm in a giving mood right now, actually. You feel like receiving?" That is absolutely the corniest line ever…and yet it turns me on so very much. 48

Where do you suggest?” he asks. “Where do you know a surgeon with our ink who won’t raise a battalion after us?” Sim stares at him for a moment, like she’s tracing a mental map of the world, weighing her choices. Then she says, “I know a surgeon in Ponta Delgada. With the winds at our back, we could be there by nightfall tomorrow.” “The Azores are Portuguese,” Saad replies. “I didn’t say they were ours; I said I know a surgeon there.” Saad doesn’t look convinced. Sim puffs out her cheeks in a frustrated sigh, then goes on. “I’d bet my life on her. She won’t betray us. And the Azores may be Portuguese, but plenty of corsairs make port there. Lots of Berber captains use it for a stopover—we won’t be in danger.” “Who’s the surgeon?” Saad asks. Sim falters. “What?” “You said she.” Saad folds his arms, his lips curling into an triumphant smile. “So I’m curious, what is the name of this lady doctor in Ponta Delgada? I didn’t know you knew any lady surgeons. Except one, who was banished from our fleet, a sentence you volunteered to carry out.” Sim looks away from him. I watch her throat flex as she swallows hard. “Tell me, Sim,” Saad says quietly. Sim keeps her gaze fixed on the floor. Monty shifts in his fitful sleep with a small whimper. Sim closes her eyes, then looks at Saad. “It’s Felicity Montague.

We are exactly that, Signor. Corsairs, robbers, pirates. I, however, am also a bibliophile, and you are impeding my visit to the library. So either assassinate me now and get it over with, or kindly step aside

You didn't know. I don't share, most times. And bad shit happens to everyone. I just prefer to live my life with pleasure instead of dealing with the pain. I can let the bad things swamp me or I can learn from my mistakes.

Oh, make no mistake, Jade. I'm sure your friends are nice and all, but as for you? I am not interested in you in a brotherly way. At all." His smile is slow and confident. "But I'm pretty sure you guessed that already.

You’re beautiful,” I tell her, because I can’t not. In my eyes, she is. I see beyond the ugly marks and the harm they’ve done to her.

Ensign Brown, if I've learned anything, it's that death's gonna get us all, but we've got some say in how we go. You die flying a Corsair, well that says enough.

We might die out here. Might as well have some fun while we're at it. And sex? Sex is lots of keffing fun.

Navy squab,

I'm drawn to her like a planet to its star, trapped in the celestial pull of her radiance.

The Corsair was a therapeutic, if expensive, toy for Pierpont.

them had been from Mars. But

Now, girl, do you remember yesterday’s lesson? How shall we trim the sails for a steady wind coming in off the starboard quarter, abaft?” Abaft? Auli-Ambar turned the delightfully anachronistic word over in her mind. These Dragonship Steersmen used the very best words, possessing a unique language of their own to describe navigation, flying, the tying of knots and the multitudinous parts and workings of their vessels. They sailed or made headway above the depthless Cloudlands, tacked against the wind, unpicked knots with marlinspikes, and their enemies were called pirates or corsairs. Who even knew what a marlin was?

Deep in my soul that tender secret dwells, Lonely and lost to light for evermore, Save when to thine my heart responsive swells, Then trembles into silence as before. ‘The Corsair’, Lord Byron (1788–1824)

Here would be a rock! And such a handsome man as he was, too, — not exactly a Corsair, as he was great in authority over the London police, — but a powerful, fine fellow, who would know what to do with swords and pistols as well as any Corsair; — and one, too, no doubt, who would understand poetry! Any such dream, however, was altogether unavailing, as the major had a wife at home and seven children.

didn’t mind

Truthfully, I wouldn't mind if he put his mouth back on my breasts again. They're aching with the need for his touch. But…that would be like settling for cake instead of ice cream when you've been promised ice cream. It'll be good…but it's still not ice cream.

I love how sensitive you are. You’re perfect, Zoey. My perfect, sweet mate.

Do we have enough gold to buy a ship?” “And who will sail her? You? Me?” Dornishmen had never been seafarers, not since Nymeria burned her ten thousand ships. “The seas around Valyria are perilous, and thick with corsairs.” “I have had enough of corsairs. Let’s not buy a ship.

Linus: Okay sorry, what is this called ? Scotty: "Huaqiangbei" *laughs* Linus: fantastic, alright so i'm here at Scotty: "Huaqiangbei" Linus: yeah perfect thank you, with Scotty From 'Strange Parts', so I'm "getting me some strange parts" In China Which is actually exactly what we're doing So, in this, like, gigantic tech mall-thing They have everything from components like switches To.. Computer parts, to drones, to cryptocurrency-crap Mobile phones.. Pretty much you name it, they got it here. So I don't really have any objective, other than go shopping and see exactly what it is That I can buy with my little stack of 'Canadian Rubles' here. So, uhh.. Wish me luck. And hopefully that's not for me. Scotty: No, I think we're good. [chuckles] [Intro music: Laszlo - Supernova] Linus: This video is brought to you by Corsair's Obsidian 500D It's a mid-tower gaming case, featuring: Premium tempered glass an aluminium construction Removable top fan trays and more! Check it out at the link below. Scotty: I think this is going to be an uphill battle, To get them to even recognize what those are, let alone know the value of them. Linus: They are gonna be like "what is this $H!T?!" Yeah, no, it's okay; there's an ATM. This is the world's most helpful error message: "Transaction is cancelled for some reason" "Operation Timeout" "Thank you!" Okay.. So like this is the kind of stuff that I wish we had a shop like this. We were trying to do a piece a little while ago Where we wanted lit.. Uhh.. Buttons! Or like.. Like.. Big fun buttons we could press And if we could have just walked into a mall and bought them That would have made my Christmas. Scotty: The cool thing about here, particularly for buttons, is you can actually come in and touch them, right. So, like, the button-feel is super important Linus: Oh my god, I already found something I need. Entire bags of like, motherboard standoffs. I was trying to buy just a bag of computer screws Only place I could find for it was eBay Pricing was just totally unreasonable. Scotty: Yeah and it will be very reasonable here. Linus: Smartwatches, totally 100% real Beats. Scotty: These are probably, like, semi-real Linus: Semi-real? Scotty: Yeah, like refurb-ed type. Linus: Right, okay. Wow. This place is enormous. Scotty: It's crazy, right? This is probably one of twenty buildings Linus: Honestly, it's overwhelming. Scotty: Yeah. Linus: Okay, so here's stuff I mostly recognize. Scotty: "Right!" Linus: There's like A bunch of mining gear.. Like Antminers and.. What else do they got? Mining Power supplies ROG.. Something something Looks like Very similar SKU's Linus: I'm just looking. Linus: just looking Linus: Uhh.. Linus: No, I don't.. Necessarily wanna get lead in here. Linus: Hi! Nah, I'm just looking around, it's okay. Linus: Thank you. [Sad Music] I mean this is the kind of thing you would never find in a retail store back home This is like, dual socket, like server boards and stuff like that. Can you ask how much this 1800W Xfurbish

You could ask me my name,” she says calmly. “That’d be a start.” I’m utterly chagrined that we haven’t asked about herself, but I try to cover it. “What, you mean FuckYou isn’t your true name? I’m shocked.