Galactic Menace

by Timothy J Meyer

  After fleeing back into his beloved Bad Space, Nemo was forced to break the news to his unawares crewmates that they wouldn't be pocketing this latest score.

  "Practically skinned me alive," he recounts, "soon as they learned something was up." Unbeknownst to them, the six million they'd rightfully stolen from under IIC's nose was bound for the pockets of four other freebooters, some of the most respected names in the business, to purchase their initial interest and allegiance to Nemo's cause.

  Nemo talks briefly about his peers among the Freebooter Fleet, why he selected each for leadership positions and the challenges of collaborating with some of the biggest personalities in the business.

  He respects and is intimidated by Greatgullet, but hopes to leverage the Obax's fearful reputation to his advantage. He justifies his decision to approach Greatgullet first by claiming that "you sway somebody like that to your cause, a real skullcracker, it'll make the other psychopaths consider your offer twice."

  There's little love, however, between Nemo and the rest of his comrades. He's critical of the methods of Ciff Vobash, Triomman captain of The Loose Cannon and the greatest pirate you've never heard of. Of Vobash's spotless record, Nemo says "Thing is, that's great, we're all impressed and stuff, but might as well be a blooming actuary, right, at that point?"

  As previously stated, this Menace is all about appearance over profit, very concerned with image and appeal. The notion of a successful but unknown pirate, like Vobash, seems almost to offend him. He cannot wrap his brain around the concept of committing crimes without an audience, without the chance of accruing more infamy to his name.

  He even went so far as to use this article as a soapbox to out more information about the obsessively private Vobash. According to his testimony, Vobash wears a red coat, keeps a live brushvezzer up his sleeve and was supposedly responsible for seeing Artelse's fourth moon pushed from orbit four years ago.

  How Vobash will react to this news remains to be seen.

  Like most, he's uncertain what to think of the Xendo members of his fleet. After correcting my pronunciation (ah-zhoo-vawg-shaw-codge), he describes the Xendo queen in less than flattering terms. "Blech, blech and a side order of blech."

  Confused by Vobash and grossed out by Aju Vog Xah Qaj, Nemo's profoundly disturbed by Captain Socorro Charybdis, the company turncoat. It's not the Trijan's traitorous tendencies that unnerve him so, however – it's her past as a privateer. He describes the sensation as "Dad pinching cigarettes and spray-painting school buses again with his teenaged sons."

  Childish metaphors seem to hover around this Menace. It's perhaps the most apt descriptor of the Freebooter Fleet yet – a circle of highly-qualified adults, all working to achieve the improbable dreams of a hyperactive seven-year-old.

  QUUILAR NOXIX IS OVERRATED

  His words, not mine. Address your angry letters to Nehel Morel, Galactic Menace, Pirateton, Talos II, Outer Ring.

  Aside from his actions with the Freebooter Fleet, Nemo's nearly as famous for the alleged slaying of his bounty-hunting counterpart – Quuilar Noxix, star of the cancelled holoreality program Quuilar Noxix Wants You Dead or Alive.

  By now, you've all seen the footage – grainy reception, arctic landscape, two figures struggling in the waist-high snow, a third figure emerges, pistol extended, slays the first.

  To this day, GalaxCom Interstellar Media refuses to issue a statement about the footage, sparking many to wonder whether the allegations are true or not – whether Nemo is, in fact, the Yheum's killer.

  Nemo reacts violently to any insinuation that the footage might be faked. "This's the gun responsible," he informs me, his firearm drawn. "This is the very gun that buried a canister in Quuilar's cranium." He adds after a beat, "Allegedly."

  Certainly in the intervening time between Noxix's disappearance and the leak of Nemo's footage, there've been no shortage of claimants, amateur criminals telling fish tales about their fatal clash with the celebrity headhunter. The question is whether Nemo is among these braggarts or whether his claim is actually true, whether Noxix's blood is truly on his hands.

  The very idea of this question seems to infuriate him.

  According to Nemo, the footage was no more than a happy accident, stolen from one of the rolling holocorders the show runners kept pointed at Noxix all day and all night. Nemo and his crew kept the footage under wraps for so long professedly to avoid the wrath of Huong Xo, long rumored to be the true power signing Noxix's checks.

  The decision to leak that footage, months later, was also seemingly Nemo's. At the time, he was attempting to win the favor of Captain Greatgullet, noted hunter of bounty hunters and subject of season one, episode eighteen. Nemo had hoped proof positive that he was the party responsible would not only convince The Rule of Thumb's Captain, but also the galaxy at large, that Nehel Morel was one rough customer.

  He asked me to tell the truth, to verify that he shot Quuilar Noxix and the footage wasn't staged. I answered I would, so long as that was, in fact, true.

  Over a hundred eye witnesses can attest that Dimick Decarios, first-tier bounty hunter with the Ring Confederacy, was killed on Talos II by Nemo whilst attempting to film a reboot, Dusty Dimick Wants You Dead or Alive, on GalaxCom's dime.

  GalaxCom mounting a reboot, however, is only circumstantial evidence.

  In the wake of the Imperial occupation of Baz, Boss Ott's forces are scattered, defeated and slain. None of his raiders, pillagers and pirates remain alive to testify as to whether Nehel Morel brought back a bona fide corpse from the tundra.

  The lack of eye-witnesses, of course, is also circumstantial evidence.

  He showed me the license, where it hangs from his keychain. Much like the footage, this could easily have been faked. GalaxCom's refusal to release a statement that denies any of Nemo's claims is tantamount to an admission of his guilt; tantamount, but not identical.

  The truth is, there's no way to know for certain. I, however, who've met the Menace, choose to believe it is true.

  I say this because, when I broached the possibility that it might be fake, Nemo was positively wrathful. He pressed his pistol to my temple, threatened to color the carpet with my brains. The mere suggestion that he'd put on a front, that arguably his greatest accomplishment was mere show, sent him more into a tizzy than anything else I could say to him.

  Nemo is a man so concerned with his image, he'll murder thousands of people to protect his rep. Nemo thought Valladia was slagging off his profession and he reduced the entire corporation and all its assets to cinders. In Nemo's mind, making up stories about himself would be an admission of weakness and, in Nemo's mind, he's anything but weak.

  Ironically, he's too arrogant to exaggerate.

  ROOT OF ALL EVIL

  What I found the most curious about the Menace was his ignorance.

  As far-reaching as his celebrity is, as tragic and high-profile as his crimes are, I think the true enduring legacy of Nehel Morel, The Unconstant Lover and indeed, the Freebooter Fleet as a whole will be his political ramifications that ripple through the next century of galactic civilization.

  Ramifications a thousand zottibles over Nemo's head.

  At the time of this writing, the Midworlds are in upheaval. The Independent Front of Prashi Citizens has officially declared the planet's secession from the Endless Imperium only hours previously. Imperium barracks and administrative offices on Ujad have already been seized by the planetarian forces. Riots rock Iogo, the disenfranchised colonists torching the homes and businesses of those they suspect to be imperialists. As I type, a ticker runs across the bottom of my screen, regularly updating Aerio's growing death toll.

  The taxes imposed unilaterally across the member worlds of the Endless Imperium threaten to tear the galaxy apart. In theory, this equalized taxation increase should prevent any one planet from bearing too much of the burden. The borderline planets of the Midworlds, little more than economically struggling Imperial colonies, however, simply cannot a
fford the cost of repairing and restoring the Valladian Shipping Line. They've begun to crack under the pressure.

  One by one, the Midworlds are succumbing to civil war and secession. Soon, the Imperium will begin restricting warp traffic to particularly troublesome worlds, similar to what we're seeing on Aerio. Once traffic is diminished, trade will suffer and fail, only increasing the taxes all the more. Before anything can be done to prevent this coming calamity, the Endless Imperium will face one full-scale war abroad in the Haliquant Quadrant and ten score scattered wars at home across the Midworlds.

  An Imperium so divided and contested cannot stand – not much longer, at any rate.

  All this bloodshed, all this political upheaval, owes its very origins to the Freebooter Fleet and the destruction of Valladian Shipping at Nemo's hands. Were they not compelled to bail out their recently acquired partners, these dreaded tax hikes that've inspired such violent outrage in the Midworlds would never need be imposed.

  When I attempted to address these topics, the Menace couldn't possibly have been more bored. Statistics, cause-and-effect, even the sheer idea that the consequences of his actions could negatively affect not only the galaxy at large, but even simply other people – all rendered useless against the impressive depths of his ignorance.

  His Freebooter Fleet ignited a fuse that, when it reaches the powder keg, could quite possibly spell the destruction of a governmental body thousands of years old. The longterm effects of his rampaging tour of revenge will ultimately kill millions more than his pistol ever could, from war, civil unrest and starvation. In the end, economics will be Nemo's greatest weapon to wound the Imperium he hates so dearly.

  "Tedious," he calls this and "exceedingly boring." He chose, when presented with the cold, hard statistical reality of what his Freebooter Fleet had wrought, to complain about how spicy his nuts were.

  Is he necessarily even wrong? Of course not – corner any well-meaning, moons-fearing galactic citizen on the street, quote them the figures I quoted Nemo and watch their eyes glaze over. Economics are tedious. The widespread political ramifications certainly aren't the most outwardly fascinating aspect of a horde of vengeful buccaneers, swinging cutlasses and torching all of civilization.

  What so intrigues me about Nemo's particular dilemma is the accidental nature of it all. Boss Ott spent the majority of his much, much lengthier career as Galactic Menace, desperately warring over the resources of one measly planet, and he ultimately failed.

  Completely without trying, completely motivated by some imagined personal vendetta, our current Galactic Menace has started the tremors that will, in the decades to come, rip the entire Endless Imperium apart.

  But, because he personally won't be there to see it, it's too boring to talk about.

  THE IKORIL INCIDENT

  Word of warning.

  What I'm about to publish is entirely unverified, speculative theory. In order to preserve my journalistic integrity, I'm simply going to recount, to the best of my ability, what the Galactic Menace believes to be the truth, what he told me about the Freebooter's attack on Ikoril Federate Station. At this time, I cannot positively confirm or deny these claims.

  They simply exist and I'm going to inform you about them.

  It should be noted that I've made every attempt available to me to actually ascertain whether or not there are any truths to these claims. I've interviewed as many of the relevant parties as I could unearth. I've devoured the official Imperial press release issued about the Ikoril incident, though my inquires for further information have all been ignored. I've even, in the intervening time, ventured to the ruined station myself, though I'd readily admit that I'm neither a forensic scientist nor examining an untampered-with crime scene.

  All these caveats made, Nemo actually surprised me early in the interview by proclaiming his innocence.

  Anyone who's changed an HV channel in the past few weeks has doubtlessly heard of the massacre at Ikoril Federate Station. The Imperium's coverage of the disaster has been extensive, more so than their coverage of any other of the Freebooter's attacks. In this case, a small team of investigative reporters were allowed unfettered access to the scene of the crime, allegedly only hours after the Freebooters had vacated the station.

  I can personally vouch for the ideals and credentials of several of the reporters thus featured, though all refused my attempts to contact them about the story.

  Exhaustive coverage of the slaughter isn't hard to locate. Much of the interstellar press at the time leapt at the chance to further demonize the Freebooters and their coverage ran from the cold recounting of casualties and property damage to the heartstring-tugging emotional angle.

  Both versions agree, however, that the entire visiting population of Ikoril Federate Station was put to the torch, all its wealth and wares stolen.

  "Ikoril was them and not us," claims Nemo. "Ikoril was [the Imperium] gambling on which station we'd sack next, sacking it first and smearing us across the press with it."

  The Galactic Menace confessed to me that, upon arriving at Ikoril Federate Station all those weeks ago, the Freebooter forces boarded to discover the mercantile hub already sacked. Nemo described coming upon a scene almost identical to that shown in the well-publicized footage – corpses, adrift through Ikoril's hallways, its valuables rifled and ransacked, damning pirate graffiti sprayed everywhere.

  He claims not a single Freebooter participated one iota in the Ikoril attack. That every canister was fired by an Imperium soldier, that every murder was committed by a party not them, that every credit was pocketed by a government so corrupt, it was willing to exploit the crimes of its enemies to make valuable wealth disappear.

  "Faked. Forged. Murdered," is how he accounts for the staggering mountain of evidence – security footage, warp records, eyewitnesses – complied against his ludicrous claim. He proposes an enormous government conspiracy, featuring disguised military craft and personnel, a galaxywide smear campaign to serve as a smokescreen to uncovering any concrete evidence and a degree of moral bankruptcy far deeper and far darker than we expect.

  “You'd believe us, right?" he scoffs. "A buncha wanted criminals set out to sack a place, get there, place's already sacked, then claim innocence? Sounds sorta fishy, don't it? Fuck, we practically framed ourselves.”

  Conspiracy theories don't exactly behoove me into action; the notion that the game's rigged so perfectly that you'd never known you're being deceived tends to create a tiny whirlpool of logic. That said, what small amount of digging I was able to do does raise a few questions.

  Nemo's not alone in his theory. A vast majority of the lower-level Freebooters I've spoken to claim never to have even disembarked at Ikoril and can, all by hearsay, corroborate the Menace's basic premise. The office of the Imperium's Ministry of Press has staunchly refused to elaborate beyond their initial information and has classified practically all other documents that even rhyme with Ikoril. Visiting the derelict station and reviewing the footage, I can confirm several of the factors Nemo'd pointed out to me – a lack of Imperium casualties, an absence of original graffiti, the preparedness of the footage within a window too short – all circumstantial, of course.

  As with the fate of Quuilar Noxix, it's practically impossible for someone of my limited means and resources to exhume the truth but, I implore those of you reading this more qualified than I, to investigate this further. Within the scope of this article, I can only speculate on Nemo's motives.

  Professedly, it was the Ikoril incident that inspired the Menace to reach out to me. It was so important for Nemo to combat the shellacking the Imperium press was giving him over the slaughter he stood accused of committing, he contacted me – an exile member of the Bad Space press corp – to ensure his version of the truth was circulated.

  "Hence my sitting here," he declares, in reference to the Ikoril scandal. "To set the record straight."

  To our Galactic Menace, the more heinous crime is not, in his view, the murder and
massacre of thousands of innocent customers. It's not giving credit where credit's due.

  FUTURE OF THE FLEET

  I've attempted to point out, across the breadth of this article, just how singular of a species this particular Galactic Menace is, especially when compared to his predecessors.

  It's my contention that Nemo's an utter fluke, a recessive gene and that, in all likelihood, we won't see another Menace of his stripe ever again.

  Enjoy him while he lasts, I recommend, because I'm afraid won't be much longer.

  At the time of my writing, new of Yime Orbital's fate is making galactic headlines. The station's been reduced to a cloud of doxychoraphum, neatly avoiding Nemo's previous fears about the Imperium repeating their supposed tactic with Ikoril.

  Against all the odds, it would seem, Nemo's emerged victorious and Valladian Shipping is a smoking ruin. Having filed for bankruptcy sometime shortly after the plundering of Valladia Prime, what few assets it retains have transferred into the possession of the Endless Imperium and, more important, the Freebooters now have nowhere to target their aggression.

  What all the galaxy is wondering, at this juncture, is where will the Menace point his legions next?

  When last I spoke to Nemo, Yime Orbital remained in one piece, his goal remained unrealized and there was a considerable degree of anxiety in the Galactic Menace that everything would fail within such short sight of victory. We were, however, briefly able to discuss his future, more specifically in the survivability of the Freebooter Fleet.

  "Talk to me about blowback," I asked him. For hardly the first time during our hour-long interview, Nemo was confused.