Starship Ass Complete Omnibus

by Ethan Freckleton

  Anasua trembled, her cheeks hot with rage.

  “Sir? Their shields have been lowered.”

  “Good,” Anasua said, her voice slicing like a butcher’s knife. “Lock on a tractor beam and bring them in.”

  Looming large on the viewscreen, Bambi scoffed. “Tractor beam? Why bother? Just open a docking bay for us and I’ll fly in myself.”

  Anasua ground her teeth. “End transmission,” she hissed.

  The viewscreen went blank.

  “Sir?” the comms officer ventured cautiously. “Should I clear a docking b—”

  “No,” Anasua snapped. “I said use the tractor beam. So do it.” Hawke might have stupidly extended a traitor an invitation to come back into the fold, but that didn’t mean they had to be treated like honored guests.

  9

  The entire crew, including Harry, waited in the cargo hold.

  Harry felt much better after having another dose of his painkillers, but without Kitt’s wheely contraption to help him walk around, a dull ache persisted within his front hooves, even in their special boots. He tried to lean backwards, hoping to put more weight on his back hooves, as he waited impatiently for the Feds to arrive.

  Despite the captain’s assurances the Feds would not hurt anyone, and that Rear Admiral Hawke was an “honorable man,” Harry felt jittery. The very mean lady, who had shot and almost killed Captain Cass last time they’d met, was coming aboard … the lady Harry had kicked and knocked clean over in order to save his crew from being arrested on Irrakeen and thrown in prison.

  Harry would have rather never seen her again.

  Aside from Cass, most of the rest of the crew appeared to share his concern. Redbeard grumbled a continuous string of curses under his breath, as Kitt stood beside him with her claws fully extended, yellow eyes narrowed, fur standing on end. Only Spiner seemed unbothered; he stood beside the captain with his hands clasped behind his back, apparently calm.

  The walls and deck of the Bray shuddered, groaned, and creaked as the Federation tractor beam finished dragging the ship onto the floor of the Fed docking bay.

  Captain Cass rolled her eyes.

  Redbeard said, “Can’t believe we’re lettin’ her do us like this, Cap’n.”

  “You gotta pick your battles, Red.” The captain was doing her best to appear impassive, but Buddy’s animal sense could feel her anxiety prickling against his skin. And, though her thumbs were hooked into the utility belt around her waist, her right index finger tapped restlessly against it. At least she had, on Redbeard’s urging, donned armor this time—of the laser-bolt-proof variety.

  Rear Admiral Hawke might have been an honorable man, but this Commodore Corvus was a certain wildcard. Harry was glad Captain Cass had listened to Redbeard’s warnings. Even so, she’d made it clear that they were to leave their weapons behind, for fear the mean Fed lady would use it as an excuse to shoot them on sight.

  To Harry’s surprise, a polite knock sounded then at the cargo bay door.

  Captain Cass gave a nod to Spiner, who reached out and punched a button. With a hiss of hydraulics, the ramp opened and began to lower, slowly revealing the rather large group of blue-uniformed Federation sailors waiting outside.

  Harry tensed, the pain in his hooves forgotten. Once again, the ramp was all that separated the pirates from the humorless lady who had shot Captain Cass. She stood straight and rigid as ever, cheeks flush and eyes bright, and her pistol was already in her hand, leveled at the captain.

  Redbeard and Kitt tensed then also, appearing ready for an attack. But the mean Fed officer only stomped up the ramp and gestured toward the sailors who followed her. “Arrest them,” she ordered.

  “Um, excuse me,” Captain Cass bit off immediately. “Are you disobeying a direct order from Rear Admiral Hawke?”

  The Fed lady’s dark gaze was full of spite and fury as she locked eyes with Harry’s captain, and Harry held his breath. “Hardly,” she spat. “Hawke’s orders do not specify processing or holding methods.” Her mouth quirked up into a satisfied smirk as one of her sailors yanked Captain Cass’s hands behind her back and snapped a pair of manacles around her wrists.

  Harry’s eyes widened as his friends were quickly surrounded. Spiner surrendered without protest, but Kitt gave a mighty hiss as a sailor approached.

  The Fed backed away hastily, bumping right into Harry’s flank.

  The sailor who was attempting to handcuff Redbeard instead found himself sailing across the hold, straight into a stack of supply crates.

  CRASH!

  “Red!” Captain Cass barked in admonishment.

  “Get your man under control,” the commodore warned in an icy tone. “Or we’ll end him for good.” She shifted her pistol to point at Redbeard.

  “Bring it, ye bitch,” he snarled. “I’ll break ye in half long ‘fore yer men can take me down.”

  The Federation lady opened her mouth to retort, but Captain Cass interjected.

  “Red, that’s enough! Stand down.”

  Harry flinched at the force of her voice. He’d never heard her sound like that before.

  Her glare alternated between Redbeard and Kitt. “Both of you. You know the drill.”

  Harry watched in muted terror, silently willing them to cooperate. He didn’t want to die just because they didn’t want to be handcuffed. Besides, being taken aboard the Federation ship, whether as welcomed guests or prisoners, was a necessary part of their plan to get the Federation’s secret weapon. Didn’t they remember that?

  Redbeard’s face turned red again, and he resumed his mumbled swearing, but he let a second sailor snap manacles around his beefy wrists. Kitt growled low in her throat and her tail lashed as she followed suit, submitting to the restraints.

  But no one seemed interested in Harry himself. They’re ignoring me again, Buddy! Harry was already thinking ahead, plotting how he might be able to help his friends.

  The commodore seemed to detect his thoughts, though, her eyes locking onto him with an intensity that made it clear her hatred extended to Harry just as much as the rest of the crew. “The donkey, too,” she said, her voice tight.

  The sailors looked to each other, confused. “Sir?” one asked.

  “Arrest the donkey, too,” she repeated, each word clipped.

  The sailors did not seem any more convinced than they had been before, but they moved slowly toward Harry, mouths and eyes wide with confusion. Three of them stood around him, manacles in hand. They looked from Harry to their handcuffs and back again.

  Harry just looked back at them, staying quiet as Captain Cass had instructed.

  “Uh, sir?” one of them finally ventured.

  “What?” the mean lady snapped.

  “I … I don’t think these manacles will work on a donkey…”

  “Well, then improvise! My God, do I have to do all the thinking for you? How did you ever graduate from the Academy?”

  The sailor’s face flushed. He hooked the manacles back into his belt and then looked around the hold. Leaving the other two to guard Harry, he retrieved a rope that was sitting on a nearby workbench and returned. He tied one end of the rope into a loose loop and settled it around Harry’s neck. Then he cleared his throat. “Okay, sir. We have the donkey.”

  The commodore rolled her eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Take them all to the brig.”

  #

  Once on the Federation ship, the guards pulled Harry into a rectangular, metallic room devoid of decoration. A built-in shelf lined the far side of the wall, wide enough for a human body to lay upon. Redbeard’s curses and a hiss from Kitt announced the arrival of his friends as the pirates were shoved into the cell after him moments later.

  “Stay put and behave,” said a male sailor, then he and his companions stepped back.

  Harry wondered at the row of small metal pins on the sailor’s chest. It reminded him of the uniforms on his favorite TV show, Deep Space Nine. Maybe it had to do with his rank?

  The sailor pushed a b
utton on the wall, and a restraining field shimmered into place.

  It was just like being back in the hold with his donkey herd.

  “If you cooperate,” the young man said, “you’ll be rewarded with refreshments on the hour, until we’ve reached the flagship.”

  Harry lifted his head, ears perking at the mention of food. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad, after all.

  Captain Cass stepped forward, her nose almost touching the forcefield. “Excuse me, Lieutenant?”

  The sailor tilted his head. “Yes?”

  “Our donkey is ill. It requires urgent medical attention.”

  “Huh.” The man looked at his companions, who shrugged. “We don’t have any facilities for animal care,” he said, “but the Brickhouse may be better equipped. It’s mind-bogglingly huge, and it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a vet of some sort on board. I can look into it when we arrive.”

  Captain Cass nodded. “That’s most generous of you.”

  The man turned his gaze to Harry. “What kind of pirates have a pet donkey? Poor fella.”

  A surge of warmth flooded Harry’s senses. A little compassion went a long ways, regardless of circumstances. Forgetting the captain’s earlier instructions, he blurted out, “Thanks, but I’m not a pet. I’m a pirate, too!”

  The man’s eyebrows almost jumped up off his face, his mouth dropping open. He turned to his fellow sailors and jerked a thumb toward Harry. “You guys seeing this? A talking donkey that thinks it’s a pirate! First talking dogs, and now this…” The whole group of them took turns pointing and expressing disbelief.

  Captain Cass shot Harry a warning look, but Harry was too busy enjoying the attention to notice. His ears lifted at the mention of the dog. “Ooo, how cool, a talking dog! Can I meet it?”

  The lieutenant shushed his companions and looked at Harry. “You just might get to, in fact. There’s one on board the Brickhouse. The Rear Admiral’s special pet. I’ll see about taking you to the dog park.”

  “Wow, that would be great!”

  Redbeard snorted. “A dog park? On tha Effin’ Federation flagship? An’ yer givin’ us guff fer travelin’ with a donkey?”

  The lieutenant shrugged. “It’s not my place to question my superiors. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have work to do. Sit tight and behave yourselves.” The sailors turned on their heels and walked away, leaving the pirates to themselves.

  “So...” said Redbeard. “You used ta work ‘ere, Cap’n? They’re insufferable—how did you manage it?”

  Captain Cass stepped up to the bench lining the back wall, and her mechanical leggings whirred as she sat down. She exhaled a heavy sigh. “I quit, remember?”

  Harry shuffled over to the captain’s feet and allowed himself to settle down on the cool, metallic floor.

  Kitt scraped her claws along a wall. “You should have let me kill them.”

  No one responded to her statement, but Harry was glad the captain hadn’t let Kitt murder the Federation sailors. They didn’t seem so bad, really.

  Spiner hadn’t moved since stepping into the cell. Now, he finally shifted and spoke. “Things seem to be going according to plan, Captain. What do we do now?”

  Captain Cass leaned back and closed her eyes. “We wait.”

  10

  Several satisfying meals into captivity, Harry jolted awake to the sounds of jostling in the cell.

  “Arrr, get yer hands off me,” Redbeard grunted. “An’ me Cap’n!”

  “Relax, Red! It’s going to be okay.”

  What’s going on? Harry looked around, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, all the while trying to make sense of the chaos.

  “Listen to your captain, pirate scum.” The friendly lieutenant was back, but looking decidedly unfriendly at the moment as he glared at Redbeard and kept a loose hold on Captain Cass’s wrists, which were cuffed again.

  Redbeard struggled to gain leverage against the four burly sailors currently holding onto his arms and legs, but couldn’t break free. “Let me go! I’m goin’ with her, ye bastards.”

  “Red,” Cass urged again. “I’ll talk to Hawke. If I cooperate, I’m sure I can convince him to let everyone go. Or at least get better guest treatment.”

  They must’ve made it to the Brickhouse while he was asleep. Harry squeaked in surprise as he felt a noose placed around his neck. “Hey! What’s going on?”

  “Relax, donkey,” replied the lieutenant. “You’ve been granted permission to visit the dog park.”

  Kitt mewled. She was being restrained by two sailors, who appeared to be having a hard time of it. She hissed as one of them grabbed a fistful of fur, turning to glare straight at him with her golden eyes. “I’ll kill you.”

  Spiner was the only pirate not currently being held down. He stood, watching the fracas with impassive black eyes. “Kitt, remember the captain’s orders. No killing.”

  The lieutenant shook his head and scoffed. “A mangy cat and a couple of rogues are no match for highly trained sailors. You couldn’t kill us if you tried.”

  Uh oh, Harry thought.

  Kitt mewled again. Light glinted off her dilated, saucer-like pupils. “What did you call me?”

  “A mangy cat,” the lieutenant repeated, unconcerned.

  The goons holding Kitt chuckled, which was a big mistake.

  She came free of their grips as she suddenly leapt into the air, then came down behind them, protracted claws pressed warningly against their throats. “Go on, keep laughing,” she whispered.

  The air sizzled as a dull yellow bolt of energy zapped through the cell, catching her in the forehead. Her claws slipped away as she slumped to the ground.

  Redbeard roared, “Arrrr, Kitt!”

  “Stop!” yelled the lieutenant, who leveled a small firearm in the direction of Redbeard. The source of the yellow bolt, Harry realized.

  Redbeard shot the sailor a deadly mean-face, his eyes squinting as his face flushed crimson.

  The lieutenant nodded. “That’s better. Your mangy cat will be fine. It’s a stun bolt.”

  Spiner took a step forward, prompting the firearm to be leveled in his direction. “If I may? I do not recommend calling our companion a cat. She is a homo lyncis sapius. A bipedal humanoid with feline characteristics, who can be quite lethal, especially when referred to as a cat or kitten.”

  “Yeah,” Harry said, enthusiasm creeping into his voice at the memory of their last fight. “She’s amazing. Like, wow, amazing. Remember all the Feds she killed back on Irrakis?”

  “I do,” Spiner replied. “Eighteen bodies had wounds consistent with a claw-like weapon.”

  “Fine, fine,” the lieutenant said, rolling his eyes. “You’ve made your point. She’s dangerous. And now, she’s unconscious. Guess who’s not getting dessert with the next meal?” He tucked his weapon away and gestured at the sailors. “Grab the donkey and let’s go. We can come back and transfer the rest of the prisoners over to the Brickhouse brig later...”

  Harry felt a tug on the rope around his neck, and a moment later he was walking down a hallway alongside Captain Cass, surrounded by the Federation sailors, who formed a loose circle around them. He craned his head up and half-whispered, “Captain?”

  Cass looked down and lifted a brow. Her eyes looked sad. “Harry?”

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Harry mulled on that for a while, and then they stepped through a massive airlock, out into a wide-open expanse. “Wow.” They were in a cargo hold, he realized. While it vaguely resembled the hold of the SS Bray, this one had room for dozens upon dozens of spaceships. Hundreds of bodies bustled around in their uniforms. “This place is huge.”

  Cass glanced at Harry. “It is. Remember the city on Irrakis? This ship is just as big. Maybe bigger.”

  “Wow,” Harry repeated.

  The lieutenant stepped in and grabbed Captain Cass by the wrists. A moment later, he stepped back again, holding the manacles. To her qu
estioning expression, he said, “Rear Admiral’s orders. You’re to be escorted as a guest.”

  Harry felt the rope loosen around his neck, then a sailor stepped up and removed it.

  “Bambi Casuarius, you’re coming with me,” said the lieutenant. “Private?”

  A skinny female human stepped up, who hadn’t been with the group of sailors in the cell. She must’ve been part of the Brickhouse crew. “Sir?”

  “Please escort this donkey to the dog park.”

  She saluted and turned to Harry. “Come with me.”

  Harry ignored her, looking for and finding Captain Cass’s eyes again.

  Cass pursed her lips, then shared a small smile. “Good luck, Harry.”

  The lieutenant watched the exchange. “Your donkey will be okay. They’ll find someone to help.”

  But Harry knew what the captain meant. Help wasn’t what Harry was after. The Feds were delivering him right to the target. Could it be that easy? This whole mission thing ain’t so hard as it sounds, Buddy. Still, even if he managed to get the dog to come with him, how was he going to liberate the captain and the rest of his crew?

  Harry shared a brave smile in return, then watched as the lieutenant escorted Captain Cass away, silently hoping this wouldn’t be the last time he ever saw her.

  The skinny human interrupted his thoughts, placing a hand on his flank. “Hey donkey, I hope you’re trained. I’d like you to follow me. Understand?”

  Harry turned to look at her and gave her a smile, too. “Hi, I’m Harold, but my friends call me Harry.”

  The private’s mouth fell open. “Oh my.” She looked around the hold, suddenly nervous. “I must’ve forgotten to take my meds. Just stay cool, and remember, this isn’t real—it’s all in my head.”

  #

  The ship was huge. Harry tried his best to keep track of the twists and turns, but everything looked the same. And his feet ached again now, even in their special boots. When was the last time he’d had an injection? It must’ve been before the pirate crew was taken into captivity. He’d have to be sure he either got help from a vet as soon as he could after retrieving this dog, or got back to the Bray and his meds ASAP. Should have remembered to take the meds with me when we were waiting for the Feds to board! So stupid, Harry. How could you forget something so important!?