Starship Ass Complete Omnibus

by Ethan Freckleton

  “Of course I would,” Cass replied, biting off the words.

  “What about Harry? It’d be a shame to leave him now.”

  “He’s fine,” Cass retorted quickly, struggling to bite back her frustration at the surly computer. “He’s getting pampered. We’ll come back for him. We have a more pressing matter to attend to for now. The man piloting the Girlboss has been reporting our location to the Feds this whole time. That’s why we haven’t been able to shake them. And he stole our prize money. And my ship.”

  “Well, okay,” Node said, after a small pause. “But … well, you might want to see something first. About Harry. It’s kind of important, I think.”

  “We don’t really have time for this, Node.” Cass rubbed at her forehead, peering anxiously out the viewpoint, waiting for more customs officers to arrive at any moment.

  “This will only take a moment,” Node said, and then her view of the dockyard changed to a display of a local news broadcast.

  “As I am obviously unable to partake in the festivities myself,” Node said, “I’ve been watching the local feeds to keep apprised of events.”

  The video feed showed footage of the parade, with people swarming around their truck and the crowd chanting Harold’s name.

  Cass rolled her eyes, muscles tense with impatience. “Yes, Node, we were there.”

  “Hang with me for a sec,” Node said. “While watching the broadcast, I learned something quite distressing, and from your eagerness to depart the planet, I’m thinking you may be unaware.”

  “What are you talking about?” Cass threw out her hands in exasperation. “Node, the longer we sit here, the further away Girlboss gets, and the greater the chance more customs officers will come and try to arrest us!”

  “Nearly there now,” was all Node said in reply.

  The broadcast was given in the native tongue of Irrakis, which Cass did not understand. But, Node had helpfully put subtitles on the display, which she skimmed quickly as the view changed to a shot of Harold being carried into the palace on a litter by an escort of purple and green-clad men.

  “THE NEWEST CHAMPION DONKEY OF IRRAKEEN,” the screen read, “IS QUITE A SPECIMEN INDEED. TRULY, THE LORD OF LIGHT WILL BE PLEASED BY THIS OFFERING. THE GRAND MARSHAL IS CERTAIN TO RECEIVE A SEAT AT THE LORD’S RIGHT HAND, WHEN THE SACRIFICE IS COMPLETED AT TONIGHT’S ZENITH OF THE FULL MOON.”

  A pained gasp escaped from Redbeard.

  Cass came up out of her chair, hands balled into fists. “What!?”

  “Presumably you understand what a sacrifice is?” Node asked.

  “Blimey,” Redbeard muttered.

  “THE BLOOD OF THE CHAMPION DONKEY WILL WET THE ALTAR OF THE LORD OF LIGHT ONCE MORE.” The words scrolled across the bottom of the screen. “AND HIS BODY BE ENSHRINED IN THE HALL OF CHAMPIONS FOREVERMORE.”

  “Yes, yes, I get it,” Cass choked out. “Turn it off!”

  Node complied.

  Cass stood stock-still, staring out into the stillness of the dockyard, the bodies of dead and otherwise incapacitated officers littering the pavement. Her breath came hard and fast.

  For a long moment, no one spoke.

  “Captain,” Spiner said in a hushed tone. “Upon further cross-referencing with local records, I can confirm that according to tradition, the Irrakeen grand marshal does indeed intend to sacrifice Harry to their local deity.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Cass demanded, turning to glare at the android.

  He seemed to shrink back in his chair. “I-I did not have reason at the time to cross-reference the cultural traditions,” he offered weakly. “The initial research on the ceremony says nothing about a sacrifice.”

  “It does, actually,” Node interjected, his voice as chilly as Cass had ever heard it. “The ceremony is clearly implied via the liberal use of euphemism, which it seems you are not programmed to interpret.”

  Spiner slumped in his seat. “I am sorry, Captain.”

  “Fuck!” Cass looked out the viewport again. “When is this supposed to happen?”

  “Tonight,” Node said. “When the full moon reaches its zenith in the night sky. Which I calculate to be right at midnight, local time.”

  Her mind raced, balancing odds and possibilities, weighing priorities. Go after the traitorous thief Djerke and get their desperately needed winnings back, not to mention her ship, possibly ending the dogged pursuit by the Feds at the same time … or risk another run-in with more customs officers—and who knows what else—in an effort to save Harold, the strange little talking donkey who had, surprisingly, turned out to be almost as useful as he was annoying.

  She chewed at her lip. “Node, is it possible for us to intercept the Girlboss and still get back before midnight?”

  A red hourglass briefly lit up on the viewport, rotating as Node stayed silent.

  Kitt growled, stepping out from behind her console to stare at the screen.

  “I’m afraid not,” Node replied at last, his disembodied voice somber. “With Redbeard’s ugly mug being plastered all over the galaxy on the Federation’s Most-Wanted list, it’ll be difficult to re-dock. Not without a fire fight. And let me remind you, the Bray is not equipped for space combat.”

  “Bollocks,” Redbeard said.

  Kitt let out a displeased mewl.

  Cass paced a tight line in front of her captain’s chair, mind racing. She lifted her gaze and met Redbeard’s stare.

  “Wha’ do we do, Cap’n?” he asked quietly.

  25

  Harry felt himself rising back to consciousness and debated fighting it. It was so nice here in this dreamland, where he and Buddy could be together, romping through the green fields of Cern with feet that didn’t hurt, and pretty jennies as far as the eye could see.

  And, he could reflect fondly upon his time as a pirate intern. Sure, it had involved cleaning up a lot of shit, and feeling his body turn inside-out every time the ship jumped to hyperspace, but there had also been so much adventure.

  There was the time he’d gotten to check out a gas station and a store. And see a nebulae and an asteroid field. And there was the time they’d nearly gotten assimilated by the Borg—or, er, the Feds. And the time he’d gotten to meet that interesting character Beiber. Not to mention that time Redbeard had thanked him for the Zoomels.

  How could he forget all his hours of watching DS9 with Node, or that time Spiner had cooked him some protein cubes? Oh, and that time Redbeard had stepped in puke! That had been pretty funny.

  Harry smiled at the memories. He’d had more adventure in his brief time with a pirate crew than he’d ever had back home.

  If it had to end this way, it was worth it, wasn’t it? At least he’d been accepted as a part of a tribe again for a short little while before he died.

  They couldn’t have known that his winning the race would end this way. Could they? Surely not. Surely they wouldn’t have left him if they’d known … right?

  A little snake of worry slithered its way through Buddy’s unconscious brain, waking him up a little more.

  He’d been a good pirate intern, hadn’t he? Maybe one day, he would have made a good pirate. Maybe one day, he could have even captained his own ship, like Captain Cass. She was so badass.

  Harry had proven that he could be a good pirate, too. Or he thought he’d done a pretty good job of it. After all, beyond being a prize-winning champion, he’d done his part at Dillbilly’s store.

  I could have been a great pirate, I know it…

  I could have been … or am I, already?

  How long exactly did a pirate internship last? He’d been an intern for awhile now. He’d seen them fight. He’d seen Redbeard’s best mean-face, Kitt’s quiet competence, Spiner’s helpful nature, and the captain’s calm and collected leadership during high-stress situations.

  Wait. Buddy, I already know how to be a pirate! Why can’t I be a pirate now?!

  The thought jolted him fully awake.

  Harry opened his
eyes and found himself laying on his side, on the stone slab, looking directly up at the grand marshal, who was still chanting some nonsensical words.

  His hands were lifted toward the chamber’s ceiling. Blood ran down his arms from his wrists, soaking his sleeves and dripping slowly onto the slab near Harry’s head. The man clutched the dagger loosely in one of his hands, the blade glinting orange in the light of the lanterns.

  Harry realized with a start that he could now see open sky, too. A small, circular portion of the ceiling had opened somehow. Outside, the darkening sky of dusk was visible, the first stars twinkling faintly into existence.

  Wow. It’s so beautiful!

  For a moment he was distracted by the sight, but then he remembered what he was supposed to do.

  Act like a pirate, Harry!

  He put on his best mean face and heaved himself to his feet. Too bad the grand marshal and his companions were too busy looking at the sky and chanting to notice. Oh well. Just like Dillbilly, they were distracted. Which meant he could do this—

  Harry kicked out with both hind feet, nailing one of the men behind him in the kneecaps. There was a terrible cracking sound and the man screamed shrilly and fell, clutching at his legs.

  The other men stopped chanting, frozen for a confused moment as they stared down at the injured man.

  Harry ignored the shooting pains in his hooves, let out a grunt, and spun his hindquarters toward the next man, kicking again.

  His rear hooves made solid contact with the second man’s chest. An audible whoosh of air escaped his lungs as he was flung across the chamber, hitting the floor in an unmoving heap.

  By now the grand marshal and the other lone remaining man had come to their senses.

  “Bad donkey,” the grand marshal hissed, his face livid. To the other men, he shouted, “Get this bad ass under control!”

  Harry laid his ears back and sunk his teeth into the marshal’s right arm. The man shrieked and took a wobbly step backward in response, the curved dagger falling from his bloodied fingers.

  In the back of his mind, Harry replayed the grand marshal’s words. Buddy, did you hear what he called us? We’re badass, just like Captain Cass!

  The lone uninjured man was scrambling for something on a nearby shelf.

  Harry flung his head sideways, teeth still clamped on the marshal’s arm, and tossed the bleeding man out of the way. Head lowered and teeth bared, he charged at his next target.

  The man was white as a sheet. With one last desperate grasp, he finally gathered up what he’d been searching for and pointed a short gray rod toward Harry.

  Harry didn’t slow.

  He was a pirate—a real pirate—and he was going to kick ass, just like Captain Cass. Wait until my friends find out what I’ve done. Wait til they see—

  A bright blue flash shot from the end of the rod, and every muscle in Buddy’s body locked up in shock.

  Harry nearly released control of his host, recoiling in pain as the jolt extended into his own tick form. He crashed into a pile at the man’s feet, helpless and twitching.

  Oh no! Buddy, what happened? We were doing so good…

  The screaming from the man with the broken legs was suddenly overwhelming. If only Harry had a way to cover his ears…

  The grand marshal staggered to Harry’s side, cradling his torn arm. His face was pale.

  “Dagger!” he gasped, holding out his left hand, blood still seeping from his wrist.

  The man with the rod hastened to comply, though his hand shook as he handed the weapon over.

  “All right, you,” the marshal growled, glaring down at Harry. “I’ve had quite enough of this. The Lord of Light can deal with you now!”

  “But … but, sir,” the remaining man interrupted nervously, “the full moon hasn’t fully risen yet. You know what the Scriptures say! We must wait, for surely that is the path to green fields returning to our barren lands.”

  The marshal hesitated, then glanced up to the circle of exposed sky. It had grown darker, the stars brighter. He ground his teeth in indecision.

  The sounds of shouting, screaming, and weapons fire from beyond the chamber door interrupted further contemplation.

  The marshal’s eyes grew wide, and both men turned to face the closed door.

  “Who dares to interrupt our sacred ceremony!?” He hissed so vehemently that spittle flew from his lips.

  Harry wished he could look where they were looking, but Buddy’s body was completely unresponsive. Whatever that blue flash had been, it had a paralyzing effect. Given how he had landed, he was stuck looking up at the small circle of sky. Not an unpleasant view, but it sounded like something much more exciting was happening out beyond the chamber’s door.

  A moment of panic gripped him.

  What if he was permanently paralyzed? How can I be a badass pirate if I can’t move?! This was even worse than having sore hooves.

  “Whatever it is, they won’t get past the palace guard,” the second man stated, but his tone sounded anything but confident.

  The grand marshal didn’t seem overly convinced, either. He gestured toward his standing companion with a blood-drenched hand, dagger and all. “Get the stun baton. Quick!”

  The man did as he was told, then the two of them stood ready, brandishing their weapons in the direction of the incoming threat.

  Behind Harry, the man with the broken legs continued to wail.

  “Fadel, by the Lord’s mercy, shut up!” The marshal groaned, then wobbled again on his feet. He reached out to his companion to steady himself.

  “My legs!” Fadel cried. “My legs!”

  “Yes, we know,” the marshal muttered. “It is very clear your legs are broken. But what does it matter? You will not need your legs when you join the Lord of Light in his Kingdom above!”

  For that, Fadel had no answer. But he continued to whimper.

  Harry tried with all his might to move. The noises from outside grew louder. But it was useless. Buddy’s muscles wouldn’t comply with his commands to get up.

  Then, through the thick wooden doors and adobe walls sounded a bellow Harry would have recognized anywhere.

  Redbeard, it’s Redbeard! And the others must be with him, too. They came back for me. They’re here to save me. My heroes … my friends!

  A warmth like he’d never felt before suffused his numb body, and Harry thought he might burst from overwhelming relief and happiness. He made a hard effort and managed to move his eyes just a little, allowing him to leverage Buddy’s nearly 180-degree field of vision.

  He looked toward the door.

  And then, just like his happy heart, the chamber’s wooden door swelled outward. Until at last it exploded—unlike his happy heart, thankfully—throwing a shower of splintered wood into the chamber.

  The grand marshal and his upright companion ducked, shielding their faces from the shrapnel.

  The pirate crew poured into the room like a maelstrom, and Harry’s mouth would have dropped open in awe if he could have moved it. He watched them with the one eye not stuck gazing at the floor.

  The man next to the marshal fired his rod, and Harry’s heart dropped as Captain Cass, who had charged ahead in the lead, was struck in the chest by it.

  But, to his shock, the blue flash only arced over the surface of her armor, leaving her unaffected. She gave a grim smile and fired the rifle held at her shoulder.

  The man with the rod blew backward, hit the wall, and crumpled to the floor.

  Faster than Harry’s eye could track, the grand marshal stepped to Harry’s side and shakily put the edge of the dagger to Buddy’s throat.

  “Stop!” the man shouted.

  Harry quailed. Oh no, Buddy! This is it! We’re going to die! I love you, Buddy … just remember, I love you. We did good, didn’t we? I certainly think so!

  The pirates froze where they stood, just inside the ruined door, maintaining their deadly combat stances.

  Only then did Harry notice the rathe
r gruesome blood splatter adorning their clothes and armor, and the bandage wrapped around Redbeard’s right shoulder and chest.

  Whoa. So badass. Do you think they’ll let me wear a wrap, Buddy?

  “How dare you interrupt this sacred ceremony!” the grand marshal screamed. “No outsiders are allowed in here, you blasphemers. The Lord of Light shall smite you where you stand!”

  There was a brief silence as the pirates peered around the chamber with expectant expressions.

  “Eh, well,” Redbeard muttered at last, “seems the Lord o’ Light don’t mind arrr tresspassin’ so much?”

  The marshal’s face grew slack, the hand holding the dagger trembling against Harry’s shaggy neck. “Turn around and leave, now,” he croaked, “or I swear by the Lord’s mighty hand, you will not escape this palace alive.”

  The captain raised her eyebrows and looked back over her shoulder, to the trail of carnage they’d left in their wake. Then she faced the marshal again and shrugged. “I don’t know. We weren’t supposed to get this far, either.”

  “An’ yet, ‘ere we arrrr,” Redbeard supplied. A feral grin split his bushy red beard. “Give us tha arse, and we’ll be quietly on arrr way, see. Don’t give us tha arse, an’ I’m bettin’ you’ll be the one who be regrettin’ it.”

  “You don’t understand what you’re meddling with,” the marshal hissed. “You signed the forms to enter your donkey into the race. You agreed to the terms and conditions. Interfering now is not only blasphemous, it’s illegal.”

  “I feel your forms should have been more clear,” Captain Cass said evenly. “I’ll be filing a formal complaint with the Galactic Contractual Office, certainly.”

  The marshal’s face was ghostly white. “If you do not allow me to complete the ceremony, I will cut his throat right now. Either way, you will be losing your donkey.”

  The dagger’s edge pressed a little harder against Buddy’s neck, and Harry could hardly bear to watch. He buried deep into the donkey’s spine and hung on tight.

  Be brave, Buddy. It’s okay. The captain will get us out of this, somehow…