Starship Ass Complete Omnibus

by Ethan Freckleton

  “You need to brush up on the articles yourself?” Cass interrupted. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  Redbeard blustered some more, his mouth opening and closing, but no coherent words formed.

  The rest of the crew observed in silence, until at last Redbeard blurted, “Well, fine then. If ‘Arry wants ta be a part o’ this mission so badly, he can be resuming ‘is intern duties. I ain’t cleanin’ up no shite if he’s back to do it.”

  Harry shuddered. How long had it been since the manure cart had made its rounds? But he lifted his head high and nodded. “I’ll do it, if that’s what it takes to stay.”

  Spiner had remained silent during the rounds of chastising, but now spoke up. “Captain, I do not know if physical labor for Harry is advisable. He still needs to see the vet.”

  Redbeard turned a dark glare toward the android. “Arrr, you volunteerin’ then? Cause I’m not doin’ it.”

  The android inclined his head sagely. “If the Captain requires, I shall do it.”

  The fastidious Kitt studiously avoided drawing any attention to herself during this conversation, her eyes averted.

  Cass shook her head with a sigh. “Fine. Spiner, you’re on cargo hold duty.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “This ain’t a good idea, to have ‘Arry along on this mission in his state,” Redbeard insisted yet again. “Captain … it ain’t good for him. And it may not be good for us, neither. Maybe we should turn around, take him back to Haven.”

  Harry let his ears droop. “But … I can help! Really, I can. I’ll find something to do that’s helpful, I promise! Please, please don’t take me back!”

  Captain Cass looked down at Harry in silence for a long time, and he made himself hold her gaze, fixing her with the most pathetic sad eyes he could muster. He’d seen such a thing work on humans more than once during some of those commercials in-between Deep Space Nine episodes.

  “Please,” he whispered again. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do, just let me stay!”

  At last the captain released a loud breath and sagged back into her chair. “Fine. I’ll let you stay.”

  Harry’s ears shot straight up. “Yay!”

  “But!”

  The captain’s sharp tone dampened his enthusiasm and he bit back on his second cheer, ears flattening.

  She pointed a finger at him, her face very serious.

  Whoa. She’s such a badass. He gulped yet again.

  “Only because we’re already on a tight timeline here and jumping to Haven and then back again will waste hours we don’t have. And only if you promise me, Harold, that the next time I give you an order, even if it’s to stay behind, you follow it to the letter, no hesitations, no questions. Understand?”

  Harry sat up straight. He didn’t like the sound of that stay behind part, but she wasn’t making him stay behind right now, and that’s what really mattered. For now. He nodded. “Oh, yes, Captain. Aye, aye, sir!”

  “Good. Now that that’s settled…” the captain drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Let’s go over the plan.”

  Kitt, sensing a safe opening now, cleared her throat and spoke. “How exactly do you intend to sneak aboard a Federation Naval flagship?”

  “Blimey, ya spoke tha words right outta me mouth,” Redbeard said, nodding vigorously. “Tis a fool’s errand.”

  Captain Cass waved them off. “We’re not going to sneak aboard.”

  “We’re not?” Redbeard and Kitt replied simultaneously, then exchanged wide-eyed glances.

  “I’m turning myself in.”

  Redbeard shot up from his seat and closed the distance between himself and the captain in one giant step. “Cap’n, ye can’t be serious? They’ll kill you!”

  Harry watched the exchange with a pained expression, partly because he shared the ginger giant’s concerns and partly because he needed another injection of his pain medication. Luckily, he’d remembered to bring it along when he’d snuck aboard … but unluckily it was still down in the hold in the crate. He’d have to get someone to help him with it soon. Hang in there, Buddy.

  Cass’s legs whirred as she pushed herself up. She clasped Redbeard’s arm. “Red, it’s the best way in. Why do you think Tone E specifically recruited us for this mission? Hawke wants me back. He’s given me the open invitation. I’ll give him what he wants, and meanwhile, you’ll get the target.”

  Redbeard shook his wild-haired head. “The Effin’ Feds can’t be trusted. It’s a bad plan.”

  “It’s the only plan. You said yourself, sneaking aboard is a fool’s errand. We’d never make it. This way … we walk right in the front door.”

  Redbeard paled. “Yer serious.”

  Cass squeezed her XO’s arm, then turned to look at the rest of the crew. “Any other concerns?”

  Spiner stared into space, his eyes zipping back and forth as if thinking really hard. “Yes … what if we encounter trouble on the flagship?”

  Kitt leaned over her console, claws extended. “Yeah. What then? Can we kill them? I want to kill some Feds.”

  “Arrr, that’s me kitten.” Redbeard regarded Kitt with a gleam of admiration in his eyes.

  “No killing.” Cass turned her stony gaze on each pirate in turn, even Harry. “If you get into trouble, use that thing in your head called a brain to figure things out. Improvise. Without killing anyone. I’m sure you can do it.”

  Dang, she’s serious! Harry swallowed hard. If killing wasn’t allowed, they were definitely going to need his help. He said, “I want to help! What can I do?”

  Redbeard shot Harry a dark look. “Stay ‘ere, like ye shoulda done back on Haven.”

  The captain kept her gaze on Harry, her expression softening. “Actually … maybe we can use his presence to our advantage.”

  Redbeard snorted. “Oh yeah? An’ just ‘ow is a lame donkey gonna help us?”

  Captain Cass put her hands on her hips, the fingers on her right hand drumming against her mechanical leggings. “Well. The target we’re after is a dog, right? And Harry is a donkey. If the Feds’ secret weapon is an animal, maybe they’ll have facilities aboard their ship specifically for animals. Maybe we can get Harry sent there because of his sickness. And then, maybe he can find the dog while he’s there.”

  Harry grinned, a bray of excitement escaping his lips. “Hee-haw! Aye, aye, Captain! I can do that! You won’t regret letting me help in this mission, I promise!”

  “An’ why would the Feds care about fixin’ ‘Arry up?” Redbeard asked.

  “They won’t,” Cass answered simply. “But if Hawke wants me back in the Federation, I’ll make the request directly to him. That man might be a total blowhard, but he’ll honor his word.”

  The rest of the crew looked dubious, but Harry believed in Captain Cass, and was determined to prove himself, too.

  When no one else raised further objections, Cass lifted her eyes to look around the bridge. “Node?” she asked.

  “Yes?” a disembodied voice answered, then the viewscreen lit up, his digitized eye blown up to the size of a cow. The effect was a little disconcerting.

  “Was Haven able to provide you with the flagship’s current coordinates?”

  “Yes. Would you like me to set course?”

  “Yes.”

  The eye squinted. “What’s the magic word?”

  Redbeard muttered a curse under his breath, then raised his voice. “Blimey, computer, do what yer told!”

  The viewscreen background went from transparent to orange, then gained intensity before resolving into flames. “Ah, ah, ah.”

  Cass sighed and raised her hand to silence Redbeard. “Okay. Node, will you please set course for the last-known coordinates of the FFS Brickhouse?”

  The flames disappeared, replaced by a giant smiley face. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it? Plotting a course now…”

  Harry cleared his throat, seeing his opportunity to broach the subject of his pain meds. “So, uh, hey Spiner? Could yo
u help me out with my pain meds? It’s time for another dose and I need help injecting it. It’s down in the crate I came in on…”

  Captain Cass shook her head and settled heavily into her captain’s chair again, planting her face into a palm.

  7

  It hadn’t taken him long to assist Harold with his medicine.

  Well, not once Node had jumped in and given clear, detailed instructions on how to load the needle, where to insert it into the donkey’s posterior, how deep to go, how quickly to inject the fluid, when to pull the needle out, and where to dispose of it. Easy as pie, to quote the human saying. Which didn’t really make sense to him, because there was nothing easy about making pie—not without directions.

  His console bleeped. The final jump was about to commence—

  Space and time folded, and for a brief moment, Spiner experienced a profound moment of clarity and sophistication. It was as if all limitations on his computing power were lifted, and he was no longer a series of circuits and artificial flesh—he was an actualized, high-functioning being.

  The immeasurable moment, existing outside of time, abruptly ceased to be. The SS Bray had returned to normal space, somewhere inside their destination system.

  “Spiner, scan the system for other ships.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Captain Cass always knew what to do. Spiner admired her clarity. Her ability to improvise. If only he could live permanently inside the confines of jump-space, he might be able to truly improvise, too. His decision-processor had a ‘node depth’ of five, which meant he could simultaneously hold space for up to sixty-four possibilities at any given time. Which sounded great, if the computer sciences had never progressed past the earliest days of supercomputers. Contemporary AIs could practically contemplate infinity. For reasons beyond his understanding, Spiner had been created different.

  He punched in directives to the console, in the order he’d memorized from flight school. Unexpectedly, the screen blanked. Don’t panic, Spiner. He didn’t know what panic was, really, but that’s what his instructors had always told him. In practicality, his memory banks seldom contained even a fraction of the sixty-four possible choices for any given procedure. When the unexpected happens, don’t be afraid to ask for help. Only, he’d come to find that most humans were unwilling or incapable of rendering assistance. None of his instructors had prepared him for ever being abducted by pirates, either, but despite their course language, the humans at Haven were different. They had been some of the very few humans he’d found who were both able and willing to render assistance.

  “Spiner?”

  “Sorry, sir. A nearby beacon has overridden my systems. There’s a message. Would you like me to read it to you?”

  “Blimey.” Of all the pirates on this crew, Redbeard had the least patience for Spiner’s inability to improvise.

  Captain Cass cut off the gruff human. “Yes, please, if you don’t mind.”

  Why would I mind? Human expressions were so baffling. “The text reads, ‘Thank you for flying Federation space. In order to provide the best experience, we require all users of Federation shipping lanes to pay a toll for future improvements. In order to access this system, you—”

  “Arrrr, Cap’n, this is ridiculous!” Redbeard shouted. “We’re not gonna pay tha Effin’ Feds!”

  Spiner had learned to stop talking when Redbeard interrupted. He was content to wait for permission to proceed.

  Kitt interjected, her voice low and calm. “I can disrupt the beacon’s transmission.”

  “Do it,” Cass replied.

  Spiner’s screen cleared. He was back to the main menu, so he repeated the sequence of commands that would initiate a system scan.

  From the nearest wall, a voice whispered at a volume and frequency inaudible to human ears. Spiner hadn’t thought to ask Kitt if she ever heard anything, but if she did, she’d never mentioned anything about it to him. The words were always unkind, and they came most often at the most demanding moments. “You should give up now. Decommission yourself. Save your friends the trouble … I’d kill to have a mobile form that could leave the confines of this ship. I can’t believe that body is wasted on you. Oh well…”

  Spiner knew who it was, of course. He was limited, but he wasn’t stupid. He could reply to such harsh messages, but what was the point? The voice was right.

  He replied instead to Captain Cass’s command. “Scanning now, Captain.”

  8

  “Commodore?”

  Anasua disabled the ship’s neural feed, which had just been providing her with daily reports from the different departments of the FFS Murphy’s Law. She was beyond relieved to be back on her own ship, away from the moron-a-thon that was presently the Federation Naval Flagship. She’d managed to talk her superior, Eilhard “the Blowhard” Hawke, into leaving her ship behind. If he was going to be off confronting potential Outliers, she’d explained, they’d need to protect the chain-of-command, in case of an ambush or accident befalling him. Gods forbid such a thing.

  “Sir?”

  Anasua bit down on the urge to reprimand the communications officer, a lowly lieutenant of some name she couldn’t remember. He wasn’t even a human. How he’d managed to make it this far was beyond her comprehension, but she supposed even the Federation Academy was entitled to make a mistake from time to time. “Yes, I have ears. Out with it.”

  The pink-skinned boy, barely a man, with rough ridges on his forehead, gulped. “One of the toll beacons is reporting an unmarked ship. Apparently, they haven’t paid their usage fee.”

  “Perish the thought,” Anasua replied. Toll dodgers were a routine distraction. Hardly worth her time. The ship being unmarked, on the other hand, was more unusual. Clearly they didn’t want a lot of attention. Too bad for them. “Helmsman, bring us on a course to intercept.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied a blue-skinned android. A Lieutenant Commander Something-or-Other.

  This was definitely the B-shift. Her most capable human officers were getting their four hours of sleep. She could wake them up, but this wasn’t anything this bridge crew couldn’t handle.

  Everyone knew that humans were the best of the best. Command was clearly punishing her for her obeisance to Hawke. It wasn’t her fault she’d been assigned the unenviable job of making him appear more effective and capable than he actually was.

  One day, she’d have command of the entire Federation Navy. She’d have the pick of her own crew. There wouldn’t be a single weak link. Until that time came, though, she wasn’t going to complain about it. She’d make due and get the job done, just like she always did...

  “Closing in.”

  “Put the ship on screen.”

  The viewscreen blinked.

  “Zoom in, please.” She squinted at the result. That can’t be… The cargo ship was familiar. The same make and model as the one the pirates she’d long been hunting had commandeered. Bambi Casuarius. But that wasn’t possible. Anasua had put a tight laser beam into Bambi’s gut herself. Even if the no-good deserter had survived, there was no way she was already on her feet, back in command of a ship. No, the pirates Anasua was looking for would be hiding away off in the fringes of space. There was no way they’d be back in Federation space already. That would have been colossally stupid. The likeness of this ship to the SS Bray had to be a coincidence.

  “Open a channel,” she ordered.

  “Yes, Commodore. Channel secured. Shall I put it onscreen?”

  A small part of her was disappointed. She’d been hoping for the ship to put up some resistance. It would have been fun to push someone around. Instead, it was all going according to procedure. “Yes, fine.”

  The interior of the cargo ship’s bridge filled the screen.

  Anasua shot to her feet, her lips twisting with rage. Suddenly, the memory of her humiliating failure to apprehend the rag-tag pirates came flooding back. Everything had been going to plan, and then … she’d been kicked in the ass by a gods-damned donkey, tripped over the
de-activated android, and gotten pounced on by the one with the terrible red beard. Then she’d been stuffed into a cargo container while they made their escape. How did I fail? How can that be possible? The defeat still made little sense.

  “Cass,” she breathed. Then, louder, “Bambi. What are you doing here?” They even had that damnable, ridiculous talking donkey with them still. And they’d come right to her. Hawke had offered Bambi the opportunity to turn herself in, of course, but everyone knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  And yet, here she was. Well, if she thought it was going to be this easy, she had another thing coming.

  “Ahh, Commander,” replied an unflappably calm Bambi.

  “It’s Commodore, you bitch.”

  The comms officer sucked in his breath. No one swore on the deck of a Federation starship.

  That junior officer can go straight to—

  “I’m sorry. How could I forget? Congratulations on your promotion.”

  The red-haired giant snickered. Cass shot him a glance and he stopped.

  “What are you doing here?” Anasua demanded.

  “I’m here to turn myself in. Where’s the Rear Admiral?”

  “Not here.”

  Cass glanced around her bridge, then focused back on the screen. “Mind telling us where he is? We’ll get out of your hair.”

  Anasua tsk tsk’d. “Nuh uh. That’s not how this is going to work. You are a deserter and a traitor to the Federation. Lower your shields, Captain. I’m taking you in.”

  Cass shook her head and sighed. “You’d violate a direct order from a superior officer?”

  Anasua crossed her arms, fixing the filthy traitor with the most withering glare she could manage. She figured it would be pretty clear from her expression how she felt about that direct order.

  Bambi appeared to get the message. She pursed her lips. “Fine.” She looked over her shoulder. “Spiner, lower the shields.” Then she looked back to Anasua, meeting her glare evenly and taking a step closer to the viewscreen. “But to be clear, since we’re on the record, this is Bambi Casuarius, and per the invitation of Rear Admiral Hawke, I am voluntarily turning myself in. Per his official direction, I’m expecting sanctuary for my crew, and a meeting with Hawke. Any failure to meet either condition would be a violation of Federation protocol.”