Starship Ass Complete Omnibus

by Ethan Freckleton

  Redbeard nodded. “Aye. I’ll be sure they’re all in tip-top shape.” He looked toward the two former Federation officer prisoners, and his eyes narrowed. “All the better for eliminatin’ those Effin’ Feds.”

  Hawke and McGee gulped visibly.

  Harry scrambled out from behind the workbench as Redbeard approached and bounded over to the giant pirate. “Can I help?” he asked eagerly. “Huh? Pretty please?”

  Redbeard regarded him for a moment. “Well, I dunno wha’ ya can do with no thumbs, ‘Arry, but let’s see wha’ we can cook up.”

  “Yay!” Harry jumped with excitement, hardly even noticing his prosthetic leg and hooves anymore.

  The big pirate rolled his eyes. “Blast it, ‘Arry. How many times I gotta tell ya … pirates don’t say yay.”

  Harry sobered … or tried to. But even the gentle reprimand couldn’t dampen his spirits. “Sorry,” he said. “I mean … um … er…” He paused and thought back to the many Star Trek episodes he’d enjoyed. There’d been one with Dax and a surly group of warriors known as Klingons. What was it they’d said? Oh yes. “A bloodbath in the cause of vengeance! Hurray! Who wouldn’t want to come?”

  Redbeard paused in pulling down a large rifle and glanced at Harry, lifting a bushy eyebrow.

  Harry gave him his best smile. Not that he really hoped for a bloodbath, but a little pre-meditated pirate posturing, with the chance to try out his laser beams? It was a good day to be a pirate.

  Redbeard sighed and shook his head, then went back to work gathering their guns for inspection.

  Harry moved up close to the workbench, fascinated by what might come next. Being a full-fledged pirate was awesome.

  33

  Hawke

  This forced retirement was certainly not going the way Hawke had expected it to.

  Not that he’d spent much time contemplating how it would go, of course, considering he’d never planned to remain “retired” for long. That’s why he’d immediately gone after his secret weapon to bring it back to the Federation. His key back into the fold.

  That his suspicions had proven correct, and his secret weapon had been found in the company of Bambi, deserter that she was, had just been a delicious bonus. By bringing them both back, he’d truly be a hero—not just reinstated to full rank, but next in line for the Vice Admiralty.

  Except … none of that had happened.

  Instead, he’d been ambushed by a warrior donkey and assortment of other ridiculous-looking, apparently sentient animals. Then he’d been tied up. And treated very poorly by Bambi herself, which still perplexed him. He’d never been anything short of kind and polite to her, certainly. And he’d thought she’d considered voluntarily returning to the Federation … after all, why else would she have come aboard the Brickhouse saying such a thing?

  Hawke was starting to wonder if she might have played him.

  But to what end?

  He’d been trying to sort it all out since he’d been tied up so rudely and thrown into a holding pen in the cargo hold, but none of it made much sense. And, to include him in this suicidal mission the pirates had planned to assault the Grand COG at his own pleasure resort? Of all the atrocities!

  And the one person Hawke had been sure he could count on in all of this, Corporal McGee—former Corporal McGee—was a deserter himself! It was enough to make Hawke’s head spin.

  What was this galaxy coming to these days!? He’d counted these individuals among his friends and allies—people he could rely on. How could he have been so mistaken? Had he merely been imagining their loyalty all this time?

  Someone cleared their throat loudly behind him, bringing Hawke’s wandering thoughts back to the situation at hand. He’d been allowed the cool reassurance of a rifle in his grip, but the pirates had removed its ammunition. Beside him, McGee fared the same.

  Behind them were quite a few more fully-armed, ammunition-toting pirates than Hawke was comfortable with. As many as could fit in the hold had transferred from their own ships onto the SS Bray, so that Hawke could radio down to the resort and once again pretend he had captured a sizable number of the remaining pirate dissidents who had escaped the destruction of Haven.

  From what Hawke had seen so far … it appeared all the pirates had escaped the destruction of Haven.

  The Grand COG wouldn’t be happy to discover that. But if Hawke could just find a way to reverse his luck, to turn this situation around so he had the advantage … perhaps he really could be the hero of the day, delivering all these criminals into the Federation’s tough-loving arms, just as he had planned from the beginning.

  Bambi cleared her throat again and Hawke blinked. He turned to look at her and lifted his brows in question. “Are you all right, my dear? Do you perhaps need to step out of line for a drink?”

  She leveled a flat glare at him, but he pressed on.

  “I’m sure there is time. Federation inspection parties are notoriously slow—”

  “Are you ready?” she snapped.

  He paused. “Ready for what?”

  “To do your part!” In her agitation, her hands came out from behind her back, revealing the pistol she was holding there. All of the pirates were similarly posed, appearing at first glance as if their hands were cuffed behind their backs, but in reality, they were unrestrained and all very much armed.

  Hawke’s gaze drifted, regrettably, back toward that improbably—no, impossibly—armed-to-the-teeth donkey, currently engaged in some sort of dance with the secret weapon.

  He grimaced, his best attempt at a casual smile. “Of course. But as I said before, I don’t think this is a very smart plan. The Grand COG’s resort will be heavily guarded against a full-frontal attack. The Federation is a well-oiled, well-equipped, alert and efficient force, unlike…” He hesitated, his gaze roving over the hold so crammed with dirty, disheveled, angry looking pirates. “Uh. Well. Unlike some other groups out there in the galaxy.”

  Bambi’s dark eyes narrowed. “We made it this far easily enough.”

  That was true. So far, the ruse had held up, to Hawke’s surprise. But then, the officers he’d spoken to on approach to the resort had sounded a little … distracted? As if there had been someone in the room with them. They kept having conversations off to the side and in the background. It had made communication with them difficult, at best.

  But no matter. Hawke was sure the men (and women) keeping watch over the Beloved Leader himself would be far more vigilant. The pirates would not get much further, he was certain of it. And when at last they were finally thwarted, he would be there to claim at least partial credit. After all, surely no one would notice his rifle held no charge pack?

  A pounding knock sounded at the closed boarding ramp.

  “All right open up!” slurred a voice. “Me and my friends are here to inspect yer shit—uh, your ship!”

  Hawke frowned at the profanity and the slurred speech, not to mention the informality of the declaration. His ears burned. Well, this was highly embarrassing. Certainly not the shining example of Federation Naval brilliance he’d just been bragging about. Warily, he moved to push the button that would lower the ramp.

  Ready or not.

  Hot air surged into the hold as soon as the clamps released. Moments later, a bumbling contingent of sailors stumbled onto the foot of the incline up to the ship. More than one were dual-wielding for the occasion, rifles slung over each uniformed shoulder or being waved around loosely, while in their off-hands?

  No way. Hawke realized with horror that the sailors were armed with glassware—and sloshing the contents of whatever they were drinking all over the place. This would have never happened on my watch, he mused without a trace of irony, even as his subconscious flashed imagery of the ill-fated dinner party on-board his former flagship through his mind.

  Bambi’s third cough was enough to divert him from those thoughts.

  “Right,” he said, straightening his proud shoulders as he readied for the boarding party, disgra
ceful though it was. Projecting authority, he issued a stern challenge. “Who’s in charge here?”

  The sailors traded glances with each other, along with more than one shrug, and finally a figure peeled away from the group at the bottom of the ramp and met Hawke half-way up.

  “I reckon that would be me,” said a stout young man with a pale complexion and more than a little sweat dripping down his brow. “Ensign Marnier at your service.” His brow wavered as his eyes drifted loosely before regaining focus on Hawke’s blank uniform. “You look familiar…”

  “Ahem,” replied Hawke. “Your men appear to be … distracted.” It was true. They were as much interacting with each other as they were with the empty spaces around them. As if there were people there he couldn’t see.

  “Is that so?” replied the ensign, who then peered over Hawke’s shoulder and issued a hiccup that sounded like it was veering dangerously on the edge of vomit. “Who’s that lot, then?”

  Hawke frowned. “Those are the prisoners, remember?”

  “Prisoners?” the man asked, his face scrunching up with concentration before fixing his eyes on an empty space directly in front of him. “Oh yes, thanks for that, bub! You’re right. We’re here to collect the pirates.” He bit his lip and regarded Hawke with fresh curiosity. “How’d you manage to nab an entire ship-full, all by yourself, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  McGee’s steps thudded on the ramp as he sidled up alongside Hawke. “Did it together, me an’ me boy here. Not bad for a couple of old sailors, eh?”

  Ensign Marnier’s eyes went unfocused and he wobbled, almost tumbling over before steadying himself. “Right,” he said without a trace of sarcasm. “I suppose we’d better round them up, then. Sailors, to attention!”

  It took a couple of attempts to get their attention, but the men at the bottom of the ramp finally gathered into a loose line and marched up the ramp to join them. If they appeared fazed by the large group of pirates, they didn’t show it.

  Hawke felt his opportunity slipping away, already. He’d been imagining a crack squad of sailors, ready to throw him a space weapon and turn this rag-tag mess of pirates into a real prison-block. Oh well … one could dream.

  On the other hand, it wouldn’t take much to disarm one of these men and turn the weapon to his advantage...

  “Drinking game!” shouted one of the sailors. “Let’s play spot the eye-patch!”

  The ensign fixed the man who’d spoken with a glare, but then his gaze softened as if on the receiving end of some unvoiced joke, and he chuckled.

  What in the heck was going on here?

  The sailors jogged into the hold and wove in-between the lines of “tied-up” pirates. “Hah, there’s one!” someone said.

  Dutifully, the sailors lifted their drinks and took deep pulls off the remainders of their beverages.

  “Now,” came the command from Bambi, her precise, authoritative voice filling the hold.

  Oh how Hawke missed having her in his chain-of-command to keep the day-to-day operations working smoothly in his fleet.

  The pirates might not have been Federation-trained, but they were plenty efficient as they moved into action and easily overtook the unsuspecting sailors. No doubt Bambi had been training them up.

  Hawke shook his head and dared establish eye-contact with that disgrace, McGee.

  “You don’t really miss it all, do ya?” the former corporal asked with an eye-roll.

  “Hmmph,” Hawke replied, then cast his eyes down the ramp. No one else was coming to aid the boarding party. No one would know trouble had arrived. But everyone would know it had been his fault.

  The sailors of the boarding party were quickly subdued and adequately bound, and the pirates surged down the ramp, no longer making any attempt to appear restrained. They were quiet, focused, and anything but bumbling. Not even the donkey, which leveled him with a glare as it hoofed its way past him, the secret weapon trailing close behind. Even the unimpressive-looking little bot on treads, slowly rolling forward, side-by-side with some sort of badger-like biped, looked more ready for action than the sailors had been.

  Hawke took an uncertain step down the ramp.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” came an unpleasant rumble, followed by a massive hand locking onto his shoulder. “Where do ya think yer goin’, eh?”

  Hawke sighed as the rifle was removed from his hands and tossed to the floor, and his arms pulled behind his back, his wrists re-secured.

  McGee was subjected to the same fate soon afterward.

  With his hands bound, Hawke became even more aware of the heat. “Don’t suppose I could trouble you for some water?”

  The burly pirate, the one known as Redbeard, squinted and leaned right up into Hawke’s personal space. “If ye behave while we be blowin’ everything up, we’ll be seein’, eh?”

  “Right,” Hawke sighed. Might as well try to enjoy his retirement, after all....

  34

  Harry (and Node)

  Harry charged after all the other pirates, channeling his best mean-face as his metallic hooves clomped along the ground. He was just like the captain, with her mechanical legs and lethal glare, all suited up in his laser gun harness—a total badass. Zuckberg ran beside him, barking in excitement.

  But they didn’t run for long.

  This place was really, really hot, even more so than the desert planet, Irrakis.

  By the time they’d made it through the open-air docks, all of the pirates were sweating profusely and grumbling about the heat. Luckily, they’d taken the few Feds they’d run across completely by surprise and dispatched them quickly.

  Harry hoped the rest of this mission would go just as quickly. At this rate, Buddy was going to overheat! The poor donkey was already lathered up just from their short sprint from the SS Bray.

  Zuckberg was panting heavily, and Kitt looked positively miserable, her smooth white fur now damp in places. Her ears were pinned flat to her head, a sure sign she was annoyed. At her side, Redbeard swiped a forearm across his forehead, dripping sweat, his shirt soaked down the front of his chest and under his arms.

  Captain Cass gave quick orders as they prepared to exit the docks, splitting the group up into teams, who would each work on clearing out specific areas of the resort. They weren’t sure exactly where the Grand COG was, so if anyone found him, they were supposed to radio Tone E directly and give their location.

  Now that Cass’s crew had cleared out the docks, Tone E and the other pirates who couldn’t fit onto the Bray would be coming in hot on their heels.

  Ugh. Yeah. Hot. This place is soooo hot!

  “Understood?” Cass asked. Sweat was dripping down her temples, too, but she acted like this sweltering hallway was as comfortable as the carefully temperature-regulated interior of the Bray.

  So badass. The echo of his earlier dreams, with the captain inviting him to ride along with her, threatened to steal his focus. What would it be like to lead an assault? But never mind that, Harry, he chided himself. Focus!

  “Understood!” Harry chorused with the rest of the pirates.

  “Good,” Cass said. “Then move out!”

  The pirates split up into their teams and moved out, all right.

  Zuckberg looked up to Harry, tail wagging, before moving off with his group, which included a teetering Node on his new remote-bot treads. “Wow!” Zuckberg said. “Being a pirate is way more fun than being the Federation’s secret weapon! Do you think after this mission they’ll finally give me my harem?”

  Harry still wasn’t exactly sure what a harem was. “Um … maybe?”

  Zuckberg’s purple tongue rolled out. “I hope so! I’ll deserve one after this. We all will! Good luck, Harry!”

  “Er … you too, Zuck.”

  The dog gave a bark and trotted after his team leader.

  Captain Cass eyed Node as he trundled past her. “You behave yourself, Node,” she warned.

  The bot paused and rotated to face her. Two spindly robot arms emerge
d from panels at its sides. “Are you serious? What do you expect me to do in this thing, exactly?”

  Cass quirked an eyebrow. “Well. I’m sure you could think of something. Just remember, that bot of yours is on probation. Mess up and you’ll be staying on the ship from now till the end of time.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Node grumbled. He turned to move out the doorway. “I’ll be lucky if some Fed doesn’t think I’m a trash can…”

  Harry had to suppress a giggle. Node’s bot did kind of look like a trash can. But at least the AI got to leave the ship now. And he was taking part in an important mission! Surely that had to be better than being left behind, even if his mode of transport wasn’t necessarily ideal….

  Harry’s thoughts turned to his own mode of transport. Buddy the donkey. The host he was now stuck in, himself….

  He swallowed hard and pushed such thoughts away, looking down at himself. Sure, maybe a donkey wasn’t the ideal host for a full-fledged pirate … but he had robotic legs now, just like Captain Cass. And his own weapons! That he could operate with his mind!

  Maybe.

  They still hadn’t been able to test them, yet.

  But he sure did look badass in them!

  Harry tried to focus on that fact as Captain Cass waved for them to move forward. To his glee, he’d been put on a team with Kitt, Redbeard, and the captain herself. They were headed to secure the central courtyard of the resort.

  Harry put on his best pirate mean-face and followed eagerly after them.

  #

  Strangely, the further they moved into the resort, the more bizarre things got. The members of the Federation they encountered seemed just as distracted as the sailors who were currently stuffed into various supply crates along the docks.

  There were uniformed sailors in golden armor and Federation Navy sailors wandering about, but also a great number of old men in casual civilian resort-wear. Regardless of their clothing or age, however, all were carrying on conversations with invisible people and stumbling about. Most seemed quite happy, despite the hot and sweaty conditions, as if they actually enjoyed the uncomfortable setting.