It was going to take patience and a lot of luck. 100,000,000 km was a big area. All interstellar spaceships had the same hydrogen, magnetic, or anti-gravity engines for planetary flight as they did for in-system flight and could only fly so fast. You could have a slight advantage if you also laid on all your retro rockets, or strapped on booster rockets, but that used a lot of fuel and your victim had that option too. Of course, it took time to attach the booster rockets, but you could do it while under way. If both ships had boosters, then it became a race. Peter planned to zigzag across a wide area just below cruising speed to have some velocity going and be able to turn effectively with some boosters ready if it turned into a hot pursuit. Peter had once asked his fellow captains after an all-nighter of drinking and carousing, "Gee guys, why don't we more advanced starship engines? What happened to all those Ion engines, atomic drives, and other stuff they showed in all those old science fiction movies we were supposed to have in the future?" They just had stared drunkenly and owl-eyed at Pater and one had said, "Huh, Dunno, Hydrogen works, why muck about?" It simply was the way the world worked. Most beings were simply happy that they could travel light-years in hours or weeks depending on the distance.
It was a good plan—in theory—so the Incontinence stalked the entry area and waited, and waited, and waited in vain.
~
James slammed a palm on the table and pointed to the Holo-screen at the movie they were watching as it floated in midair in the galley.
“The library has over five million selections from over four centuries of entertainment and nine worlds, and you need to watch this one over again?'
“I am most liking Free Willix Six; besides, you were outvoted. Did you know this version filmed exclusively on Vookin? One of my distant cousins had a small part, and she is most enticing to this being. I am believing human expression is, she’s ‘smoking hot.’ The crucial sex scene has often been voted the most erotic by most beings for over one decade!” said Jikilenga
“If you think chubby whales getting it on are sexy, then maybe! It’s only been remade like twenty times in three hundred years; this time with Vookins instead of whales, and humans. Don't you have any Vookin porn you can watch in your room and jerk off?” James said irritably.
“The screen is much too small in this being’s quarters. Vookins unable to self-pleasure,” Jikilenga said holding up his flippers and short arms to demonstrate, “besides, this art, not porn.”
“Hey, I offered to give you a handy, Jik. Sorry, I couldn't accommodate you in the other departments. Talk about your baby arm!” Oscar added holding out both of her hands and grinning like a fisherman talking about the monster that got away.
“Yuck, I don't want to hear that shit, you freak. You came on to me too, Oscar. You'll fuck anything. Get rid of that freak between your legs, come talk to me. Although, I have to admit your tits are pretty nice, even if they are fake.”
“I resent the implication that we will screw anything; and these tits are as real as you, bucko! I'm genetically female, but I draw the line at Xums, Glaxonians, and Exinderins,” Oscar huffed.
“Yeah! We are not total sluts! And who you calling a freak? I don’t fuck assholes-- I mean metaphorically—I have my standards.” They all heard Heshe from under Oscar’s skirts.
“You are awfully quiet on the subject of entertainment, Bob-Six,” John said turning his book reader off and placing it on the table.
“I am not used to social settings or interactions. I went from a vat to working within days after my knowledge and education was implanted. I never had what you would call a childhood. This is all new to me. Just watching you is all the entertainment I need; it be like watching live soap operas,” Bob-Six declared.
“So, no girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever Mellovians call it? Hey, folks, I think we have us a virgin on board!” James said teasingly.
“I am not strictly male or female, but both, and require gametes from another Meloovian to reproduce. I can extrude a flexible tube for depositing genetic material, and pleasuring. My normal state is an inverted tube for excretion, and pleasuring. I cannot self-impregnate and... and… technically, not a virgin by your standards, but never having sexing by another Meloovian.”
“So, you mean...” James’ eyes narrowed, scanned the room, and settled on John with one eyebrow lifted.
“Hey, don't even look at me―female, human, hetero is my thing,” John hooked his thumb at himself.
“So, who?” and his eyes settled on Oscar, “Figures! Ick!”
“What?” Oscar looked around innocently, but James was sure he saw a faint twitch of a smile on Oscar’s face.
“You ask me, seems like Monica and the Captain are mighty cozy. I never see her without him, and sometimes I don't see either of them for hours or days at a time. She his girlfriend or sumpin?” James said with a knowing air.
“Yo! Floxshit-for-brains, what the Captain and Monica’s relationship is, is none of your business. They are business partners, get along well, and outrank you. That's all you need to know,” Oscar said with exasperation.
“Well, you are a partner too, I heard. You and the Captain playin’ hide the rocket-ship also?”
“There is an old Earth expression called ‘mind your own bees wax,’ James! I am also bored. Beside not getting much action on this tub, I haven't beat the mucus out of anyone for weeks. Care to relieve my boredom?” Oscar said menacingly.
“Whoa! No need to get hostile, she it-bitch! Just askin. You know, like to pass the time?”
“Have you heard the other old Earth expression, ‘Curiosity killed the Flennix?’”
“Yeah, yeah,” James put his chin on his hands and pretended to be interested in the movie.
“Way I see it, this is a pretty cushy job; a few minor chores, and for entertainment―all the books, movies, video games you could desire--even companionship,” Oscar tented her hands under her chin and blinked her eyes seductively at James, “that is, if you weren’t such a putz...”
“I don't read so good, I suck at video games, and I tol’ ya, not interested. I heard about people like you, and you still creep me out,” said James.
“Why am I not surprised?” Oscar said with disgust. “You know, you might have a shot with Monica if you brushed up on your social skills and stopped wanking so much in your cabin. You have an advantage, you’re not ugly, she has not been around you very much and doesn’t know what a complete tool you are!”
“Really? Farzookian!”
“Now shut up! The sex scene between Willix and the smoking-hot cousin Jik was talking about is coming up. Vookin sex is something to see. It’s considered one of the most erotic and tender things in the universe. The females sing three-part harmony during orgasm, and it’s beautiful! I once saw a Vookin live-sex show in Hiajuanason on shore leave. Fantastic!” Oscar said.
Shirley sounded a loud, raucous Klaxon to alert the crew of an incoming ship.
Meanwhile in the command room… “Hailing the Comet Express! Are we addressing Captain Poequin?” Shirley inquired.
“Speaking. How can I help you?” Captain Poequin's image floated in midair, displaying a ruddy-faced, jolly-looking, elderly, smiling, human, male.
“This is the pirate vessel HMS Incontinence. Turn off your engines and prepare to be boarded or I will disable your ship.”
“What? Are you pulling my leg? There’s no such thing as pirates except in Holovids, is there?”
“I assure you, we are real, serious as a heart attack, and we intend to board you and remove your cargo.”
“Did Captain Jackson put you up to this? I know putting that Ditalin in his drink some weeks back gave him the shits and it really burned his ass, no pun intended. It was a joke; paying him back for his last prank on me; putting Eno berries in my soup and turning my teeth black for a month, but this is a bit much. Look I'm in a hurry. I have a schedule to keep, and all that. Tell Jackson he got me. I was worried for like thirty seconds, at least. He got me. Ha! Ha! Oh
, and by the way, that's a nice touch; the skull and crossbones flashing on your ship! Haven't seen one of those before; is that a decal? Where can I get one?”
“Tour father eats dirty pansies in hell! Arrrrawk!” Said Sam the Cockatoo from its perch on Peter’s command chair.
“What!” Captain Jackson exclaimed, baffled.
“Shirley, fire some slugs across his bow.” Floyd walked into the control room and stood silently behind Peter.
Captain Poequon’s expression turned from jolliness to consternation, and he sputtered, “What did your bird say? Are you mad? This is pulling a joke too far! Firing your weapons at me! What if you had hit me? YOU flipping ASS!” He screamed at last.
“I assure you, this is no joke. We are pirates, and will destroy you if you resist,” Peter said with all the menace he could muster.
“By Tarcacks ghost! I think you're serious!” Poequin said with a shocked expression on his face, “I'll be reporting this to the Hyakian military, I assure you, and by the way, my answer is this,” slowly he raised one hand and extended a middle finger. His image disappeared, followed an instant later by his ship.
“FUCK!” Peter screamed, drumming his fists on the console.
“Say, is it just me, or do you truly have Flox excrement for brains?” Shirley said appearing in mid-air with a smirk on her holographic face.
“Truly Captain, perhaps a more prudent action might have been to fire the magnetic grapples first or set off the EMP to disable their ship before making demands and threats. Most other captains know the micro-jump trick,” Floyd said gently.
“SCREW YOU BOTH!” Peter screamed. “Shirley! I've had it with you! W-1036 polite mode!” he spoke to the air.
“Wait a minute, Fuck Face! I'm just following― W-1036 mode. Acknowledging. Standing by for orders, Captain Farlon,” the computer said in a polite mechanical voice.
“Uh, sorry, Floyd, didn't mean to yell at you, frankly. I forgot I had that stuff.” Floyd just stood there unmoving and silent. “Hey, it’s not like I have a fricking pirate’s manual, do I? I'm winging this!” Peter said. shame-faced.
Floyd continued to say nothing standing there in silent condemnation.
“Say, Floyd, can we just not mention this to the crew, say the other ship self-destructed to escape capture and torture or something?”
“Mums the word, Captain,” Floyd acknowledged.
“Shirley?” Peter asked.
“Yes, Captain Farlon, my records are sealed to everyone but you. A ship’s captain can do no wrong. I must say, that shirt is most fetching, and I love your parrot! It’s simply fabulous!” Shirley now simpered in a butt-kissing voice.
Monica came jingling into the control room with her sword on, looking every bit the stereotypical pirate lass, blaster on her hip, fake scar on her cheek. Her hoop earrings were large enough to sit a monkey on. A bright red sash surrounded her waist and a spiked collar brushed her ear lobes. Bracelets, military-style pants, a black flack vest, gleaming black boots with chains across the instep, and a fetching red Tricorn hat jauntily sitting on her head finished off the look.
“So, when do we board the other ship? Don't I look great? Like my hat?” Twirling around in place, Monica’s sword clanged off the control chair, nearly taking Peter’s foot off, and made him jump back. Floyd had sharpened the swords and they were sharp.
“Uh, sure, very charming. You are very scary and cute. Sorry, false alarm. The other captain out-maneuvered me by self-destructing his ship to avoid capture. Caught me by surprise. I, err, hem, shouldn’t have been so graphic when I described the foul torture that awaited him if he did not surrender.”
“Oh yes, you should have heard him; threatened to rip his head off, spit poison at him, eliminate down his neck, and rape him with his own sperminator,” the new, polite, and helpful Shirley said.
“He said what?” Monica said staring at Peter, mouth parted in disbelief.
Peter put a hand to the side of his mouth and hissed, “Shut up, Shirley, that's the video game I play.” Louder he said to everyone, “Oh, she exaggerates! Got it wrong, as usual. Isn't that right, Shirley?”
“Yeah, that's it. He was soiling himself with fear, though. Uh, I mean the other guy, not Peter. You should have seen it! Well, no, you probably wouldn’t want to watch the actual vid of him pooping himself; that would be gross,” Shirley said catching on.
Peter sought to change the subject. “And where did you get that... lovely hat?” He cringed mentally at the silly image it portrayed.
“I had it custom made as a surprise,” Monica said with a big grin. “Isn’t it absolutely Farzookian!”
“Sure,” Peter said, “totally Farzookian, but it’s way too nice to take on a raid, you might get blood or machinery grease on it. Please don't wear that, except for me.”
“Well, I like it.” Shirley’s hologram floated in front of the console. Now her image was wearing a matching bright red, Tri-corn hat. She had a peg leg and now displayed a traditional seventeenth century pirate costume, complete with boots.
“Shirley, I give you leave to appear however you want around here, but never show that image to another ship,” Peter said almost laughing, in spite of still being angry as hell at himself.
“Whatever pleases you, Sweetie.” Shirley said subserviently.
“Is something wrong with Shirley? She sounds funny,” Monica asked.
“I’m a little stressed right now. I put Shirley in polite mode,” Peter muttered. “Don't push me, I might put you in leg irons, or flog you too.”
“Ooo, I like that game! I'll put my hat on, and you can rip my bodice, if you like,” Monica said excitedly.
“Monica, I'm feeling a great need to brood and pout right now, and that requires solitude. Can you please just leave me alone for a while? You too, Shirley. Try the shut-up and go away mode.”
“Whatever you like, Captain. Should I have someone bring you tea? Here, I've set the command chair on massage mode with some music I think you'll like,” Shirley simpered, the air filled with the sound of Vivaldi, The Four Seasons.
“No Tea! Turn off that crap and piss off, all of you! Leave me alone!”
“Fine!” Monica said and stalked off, miffed that Peter was being so mean to her for nothing. He obviously didn't like her hat. Screw him!
Down in the galley, Floyd faced a hostile crew. They stripped off their weapons and fake scars, muttering all the while.
“Sounds like bullshit to me! Who ever heard of a captain pushing the self-destruct button on a…I don't know, ball bearings cargo?” James said angrily stripping his final scar off and slapping it on the table.
“He may have had a military cargo. We don’t know. If it was weapons, he might definitely do that to avoid letting them fall into the wrong hands,” John said, trying to be reasonable.
“I too am thinking this story sounds most, how do you humans say, most fishy. Sounds like a story I might fabricate, if I had been making the mistakes,” Jikilenga interjected.
“Well, our first opportunity is gone regardless of what happened. Suck it up you whiny bitches,” said Oscar.
“What do you think Bob? Is this story crap or what?” James added.
“This being is not experienced in the detecting of lies or similar fabrications, so Bob cannot express an opinion either way. I'm sure the Captain did his best to enrich us,” Bob said with his face and voice expressionless.
“What a pussy! Ass kisser,” James spit out vehemently.
“What’s a pussy?” Bob-Six said looking at Oscar.
“Oh, for Tarcacks sake!” James said.
“How about we just consider this a dress rehearsal and a test of your readiness? I congratulate all of you in your speed in getting ready, but may I make a few suggestions?” Floyd offered.
“James, may I suggest only one or two fake scars?” he offered, looking at the pile of ten or more by James’ side. “That many looks like you fell into a pile of broken glass, and someone ground your face int
o it—repeatedly. Bob-Six and Jikilenga, please skip the scars altogether. They don't match your skin tones at all and look like, well…like fake scars. Those berets just look ridiculous on your large, smooth heads. Besides, our victims might think we are very bad pirates to be this cut up. Please, less or no scars.”
As for you, Oscar, stay with the uniform, please,” Floyd said, looking disapprovingly at Oscar’s short plaid skirt, white ruffled blouse, flack vest, white panties, socks, and two- tone oxfords. Oscar had put flower pasties on her chest armor where her nipples would be, “and please, no decals on the armor.” Floyd asked with seeming disapproval in its voice.
Later in the day, Peter stopped by the lounge, glad to see everyone there. “Listen up, everybody. I have an announcement. I have miscalculated just how vast a 100,000,000-kilometer target area is, but most pilots broadcast their coordinates before hyperspace so as to avoid any collisions or worse. We will be listening in when they send in their co-ordinates. Next time a ship is going to arrive, we’ll be ready. We can just do a micro-jump from wherever we are!” There was a chorus of cheers, and other signs of agreement that this indeed would be wonderful… better than sitting around. It was only a few more days before Shirley sounded the announcement they had all been waiting for. Another ship was approaching. A soft chime sounded throughout the ship, “Attention crew! Incoming ship. All crew assemble, and prepare for assault. I'm sorry to wake you all up. I've got kaff brewing, and I've set out bear-claws,” Shirley said apologetically, it was after midnight after all ship’s time, and she was being polite.
With new anticipation, Peter threw himself into the command chair. He had a well-thought-out plan this time and was eager to try it out.
“Shirley, hail the ship, and Captain, ―who is it, anyway?”
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