Star Hookers Space Pirates

by David A Sizemore

  “What do you want?” Captain Barsony said with crossed arms

  “What do you think? First, order your security to drop their weapons and kick them over to the Vookin. Then, you and I are going to visit your safe, where you will give me the combination and my crew is going to relieve your guests of their valuables.”

  “Drop your weapons,” Captain Barsony ordered his guards. Weapons clattered to the deck and were feebly kicked Jikilenga’s way. Barsony sighed as his shoulders slumped, "I'll show you where the safe is, but it won't do you any good. I don't have the combination. Any valuables passengers want secured for the trip are locked in for the duration. The codes were set before we disembarked. They are sent to a central computer which transmits the information to our computers which unlocks the safe. If passengers want to get some jewels out for a special occasion, such as the costume ball we have every trip, I need a twenty-four-hour notice to have the safe unlocked for me from Hyak. It’s automatically changed after each opening.”

  “Don't worry about that. Take us to the safe!” Peter demanded.

  “Very well. Follow me,” said the Captain sighing.

  As they set off, Peter nodded to Floyd and James to follow.

  “You three,” Peter said pointing to Monica, Oscar, and John, “start relieving our guests of their valuables,” Hoping he sounded piratey.

  “You two,” pointing to Jikilenga and Bob-Six, “keep an eye on the crew and security.”

  In a short time, the captain brought them to the safe. It was not very large as safes went and had a simple keypad with a digital display embedded in the front.

  James walked over to it carrying the bag of tools he had brought for such a purpose and examined it carefully for a few minutes. “Well, we’re screwed…” he exclaimed softly.

  “That’s it? We're screwed? You didn't even try!” Peter said with disgust.

  “Look, I'm not a total idiot! If this was opened by retinal scan or fingerprints, I could just hold the Captain’s eye or finger up to it...attached or not. If they were using some of the new stasis fields… those are actually pretty easy to crack if you know the frequency of the quantum fields to unfold them, I have a Q-field scanner that scans millions of combinations in minutes— it’s super illegal to own,” James said grimly.

  “I told you I have to be sent the codes by the shipping lines computers at least twelve hours in advance and I punch the codes in, and then the codes are randomized again. Just to prevent being held up,” Captain Barsony informed them rather smugly.

  “If I had an industrial laser, I could cut through it, but gee, I plumb forgot to bring one of those five-hundred-pound monsters. It looks to be set in permacrete with a stainless-steel lip. If I had a jackhammer, I could possibly get it out in a half a day, take it back to the ship, and peel the metal off the old-fashioned way with an air chisel with time, but do we have that long?”

  “Shit!” Peter said, disgusted.

  “Told you, idiot,” Captain Barsony said again smugly.

  “Tur mother tiffs dirty panties in smell,” Sam added.

  “What the…?” Barsony said looking around

  “Shut it, Sam! Vookins Balls! What now?” Peter groaned.

  Wordlessly Floyd walked up to the wall and examined it for a few seconds. He punched a hole into the surrounding wall, powdering the permacrete with ease, and continued to punch holes all around the safe. He grabbed the metal lips on both sides of the safe and walked up the wall bracing his feet. With a horrific grinding and squealing noise, Floyd ripped the safe out of the wall. It flipped through the air and fell to the floor with a crash—Floyd falling ungracefully on his head. Captain Barsony, along with everyone else, stood with mouths agape, looking a little stunned.

  “Vookins balls! I guess that's one way to do it,” James exclaimed. “Right-on, Floyd! Way to go!”

  “Sir, even though my hand is made from a titanium alloy, I may have damaged it slightly,” said Floyd holding up his right hand which indeed looked a little worse for wear. One finger jutted out sideways, another was completely broken off and hung by carbon tendons, both his knuckles and hands looking extremely crushed, and pitted.

  “I'll buy you two new hands—hell, I'll have you plated in gold when this is over,” Peter told him gratefully.

  “Gold plating will not be necessary, sir. A good repair is all that is required,” Floyd replied.

  “You got it, buddy! Come on let’s go.”

  James bent down and attempted to pick up the safe, “Ungg, crap! Weighs a ton! Now what?”

  Floyd picked it up easily with his only slightly injured hand and put it on its shoulder. “Do not be embarrassed, James. I am way stronger than a human. I'll do this.”

  “No problem. Go for it,” James replied relieved.

  “Buy tea a slink sailor? Arraakkk!” Sam added sounding hopeful.

  ~

  John, Oscar, and Monica were having their own situation in the dining room. Monica leaned into John and whispered in his ear, “I feel really weird robbing people. I don't like this at all.”

  John whispered back, “I'm not entirely comfortable with this either. I'm a chef, not a thief, but these people don't know we are newbies at this—remember, the cruise line will reimburse their passengers after all. So, relax. Come on and follow my lead.”

  He walked up to a matronly female and said sternly in his best chef-giving-orders tone, “Give us any of your jewelry and watches. If you have any currency in your purses, remove it, but keep your personal items and IDs.”

  The woman hastily removed a wad of plastic bills from her purse, stripped her bracelets and necklaces from her person, and handed them over. “Could I have my picture taken with you?” she asked eagerly.

  “What! Huh?” Monica and John uttered almost simultaneously.

  “Oh! This is s-o-o-o exciting! The grandkids are never going to believe we were attacked by pirates! Could I have a picture?”

  Monica, Oscar, and John looked at each other. “Well, it’s not like the surveillance cameras don't have us recorded already and we are wearing these ridiculous disguises. What’s the harm?”

  Oscar took the camera and snapped a one-shot with Grandma, Monica, and John. Subsequently, that was pretty much how it went with most of the rest of the passengers—people wanting autographs, pictures, and practically shoving each other out of the way to hand them their belongings.

  “This is just fucking unbelievable!” said Oscar at one point as she whispered to Monica.

  “Don't they know we are robbing them?”

  “I don't know... Maybe these rich people lead such boring lives, they are enjoying the excitement?” Monica suggested.

  “Maybe we should call the Emperor’s line and suggest they add us to the tour as part of their fun package,” said John chuckling. *

  When Peter and his group joined them, the process sped up considerably. As they relieved the passengers of their valuables, the passengers began asking for pirate stories. Peter’s crew was new to the pirating game, so they couldn't help but make stuff up, borrowing heavily from vids past and present. Oscar was telling a rapt, elderly crowd the tale of facing down twenty Space Marines with just her sword, while Monica proclaimed to another group of twenty-somethings that all the men were sex slaves to both herself and to Oscar, adding snippets of steamy tales of sex. Jikilenga proclaimed the ship they had arrived in was a giant, fire-breathing space dragon with lasers for eyes where they all lived inside—sleeping on mounds of glow-metal coins and jewels, eating nothing but expensive foodstuffs and drinking rare vintages of wine. The under-ten-crowd listened wide eyed, while the teens rolled their eyes in disbelief. Peter listened in, and was amused, but it was time to go.

  “Alright, crew, lets wrap it up. We've been at this for over an hour. The cruise ships are usually very punctual. They have probably sent a Marine cruiser to investigate or are at least calling their com frantically, about now. Let's go!” Peter shouted over the hubbub of the crowd.


  As they turned to leave, a small child walked up to James and tugged on his sleeve. “Hey,

  *The Emperors line did actually add a special pirate cruise later due to requests for it…

  mister, did you fall face first into a box of razor blades or somethin?” James still had over ten fake scars plastered to his face.

  “Uh, I once ran into a pack of face-shredding Molats. You should see the other creatures!” James said, annoyed.

  “Uhnt—uuhhhhh—there's no such things as Molats!” the child said.

  “Have you been everywhere in the Galaxy?” James growled.

  “N-o-o-o,” the child said petulantly.

  “Then shadup!

  Fortunately, they were done relieving the passengers of their belongings. Bob-Six, with John's help, got the wheeled cart moving...slowly. It was very heavy. They soon had their ill-gotten gains transported to their ship.

  The goods of more than five-hundred passengers filled the bin almost to the top; expensive jeweled watches, (all antiques and for show as Datacom’s had long ago rendered watches obsolete) jewelry as well as loose credits. He looked up and grinned, “So, crew, feel better about being pirates now?”

  “I don't feel bad anymore…now. They seemed almost happy to part with their stuff. Beings sure are weird,” Monica added.

  Except for the Meloovian, and Jikelenga with his perpetual grin, they were all grinning ear-to-ear.

  “Captain, I'm going to start working on the safe. I'm sure I saw an air chisel in the tool locker. I want to get this open and see what we have. It's going to take hours of sweat and muscle, but I'll get it open with time,” said James happily.

  “Sure, good idea. Floyd, help him if you can.”

  “Excellent suggestion, sir,” said Floyd.

  “The rest of you want to help me separate this into three different piles, and count it? Peter said.

  “Does the Galactic adviser sit on a gold toilet?” Oscar added with excitement.

  Chapter 11: Getting Paid and Dangerous Times

  It was time consuming, but eventually they had the stuff separated out. Counting the folding cash, they had over 120,000 in credit flimsies, in large and small denominations and change.

  Peter looked up and said, “Come on... change?”

  By count they had over three hundred watches, and four hundred other separate pieces of jewelry; brooches, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, and rings.

  Peter stroked his chin thoughtfully, “I'm no expert on jewelry, but that's a lot of ‘booty,’” he said chuckling at his own lame pirate witticism. The others groaned, “Some of those diamonds and Karvarsian sapphires are a full carat or more. The glow-metal, antique platinum, and gold, we have pounds and pounds.”

  “I don't think even a fence is going to be able to sell all that jewelry at once, especially since it's probably IDed nine ways from Sunday; same with the watches. I'll save out a few hundred. I'm sure I can find someone who might be able to move some of the watches, but for the most part, we will just pry the jewels out and melt down the precious metals. I hate to destroy such beauty. But hey, I think we have over a million credits worth of jewelry here at least, despite the markdown the assholes are going to give me to move this stuff.”

  James entered the galley holding what looked to be a very heavy bag which he clunked onto the table and spilled out its contents, adding to the pile of loot. A glittering array of even more jewelry lay before them mixed with a few bundles of large denomination cash flimsies labeled in plastic bags.

  “There is one necklace here that has a ninety-four carat Genajh Sunstone surrounded by Ganymede emeralds. It is harder, more expensive than diamonds and extremely rare. As you can see, it has its own light-emitting properties. This stone probably has a famous name, as well as a rich fuck that's going to be missing it...a lot. There are some other nice things; some other possibly rare stones that I haven't a clue what their names are, I’m not a jeweler, but that Sunstone’s got to be worth a small fortune.” James said, grinning.

  Floyd interrupted, “I checked the Inter-Space net, and that Sunstone is worth at least two-and-a-half million credits. There may be close to another million in other jewels. It's known as the Heart of the Sun, by the way,” he added, “but it may be virtually worthless. It’s somewhat famous. It’s owned by a Hilton MXII.”

  “Well, that sucks,” Peter said. “I suppose I'll have to find a fence willing to cut it down, or a trillionaire willing to look the other way that it's stolen.”

  “Good luck with that! Most of these rich fuckers want to be able to show off their pretties and rub other rich SOB's noses in the fact they have something really expensive and rare,” James said wrinkling his nose as if in disgust.

  “Well, I'll figure something out. It certainly lives up to its name,” Peter said holding up the Heart of the Sun and looking admiringly at the stone which glowed brightly. It was almost too bright to look at directly, “So, how does it feel to be well on our way to being millionaires, boys and girls?” He was surrounded by happy faces that gave answer to that. “Gentlemen, ladies, beings, feel free to take any rings, earrings, or necklaces you fancy, except for the really big ones. You earned it as a bonus. Here, Monica, might as well wear this until we get to port,” Peter said, placing around her neck the Sunstone pendent. “Ah! Fit for a pirate queen.”

  “That's assuming a lot, isn't it? Are you now a pirate king, claiming me as consort or concubine?” Monica said, her eyes flashing anger.

  “Whoa! Where did that come from? I was joking around. Sorry, babe. Uh...fit for a pirate’s girlfriend—err…partner?” Peter said hopefully.

  “Aren’t you making assumptions about our relationship! No thanks! Not even for a little while!” She threw the necklace back on the pile and stomped out of the room.

  “Wait! Monica! What did I do?” Peter said, looking around mystified.

  “Sheesh! Is it that time of the month?” James commented sarcastically.

  Peter’s hand shot out and clenched James around the throat, choking him. “Don’t ever say anything demeaning about Monica again!” Peter hissed, then dropped his hand. He got up and followed Monica to her cabin leaving James behind looking stunned and pissed off.

  Peter knocked softly on her door. “Monica, what's wrong? Are you upset at holding people up at gunpoint? Whatever I said...I'm sorry.”

  “Go away!” Monica shouted through the door.

  “OK, but whenever you want to talk, come see me night or day...alright?

  “Please, just go away.” Monica spoke softly.

  “Alright. Sorry for whatever I said wrong,” he replied, figuring she would calm down later.

  Walking away, shaking his head sadly, Peter called out to Shirley, “Hey, Shirley, plot a course for Hyak station. We have business to do!”

  Shortly they arrived at the station and Peter had little time to worry about Monica. Captain Happy was right, Peter had no problem unloading his 'beef,' selling it to the station Vookin administrator minus its ‘cut.’ He easily contacted some of the criminal element by hanging out in some of the seedier station bars for a few days. He soon found a Meloovian, nicknamed Slinky, that was more than willing to take some of the watches off his hands for a decent price. Slinky advised him that, yes, he had a better chance unloading his jewelry, if the jewels were sold separately and the metals melted down. He also promised to try to find someone that could help him break down the ultra-hot Heart of the Sun for a small finder's fee, which was fine with Peter. He set Floyd to breaking the other jewelry down and making a makeshift forge. He scheduled a mobile robot repairman for Floyd's hand while he was at it, as well as giving him the memory upgrades he had promised. Peter, of course, had no intention of sharing the profits from the cruise line with the Station’s Vookin. It wasn’t exactly a Hyak ship. Besides unpronounceable was an asshole, as well as greedy, Peter had no intention of rewarding it for nothing.

  ~

  Sitting in bars looking for a contact, making a few
calls, chatting up the bartenders while fishing for information, buying drinks and tossing around a lot of credit flimsies, and trying to find the right type of criminal, Peter watched a lot of the news. It predominantly covered the hijacking of the Titan’s Glory; the talk of the galaxy. It even made the Universal News. He was amused to hear that although they had plenty of pictures from the security cameras, the names and descriptions provided by the passengers varied. Peter’s blood pressure rose as he saw all the selfies Monica and the others had taken with the passengers. Crap! What were they thinking?

  Several passengers claimed the pirates came in a flying space dragon and that they were raped by sex-crazed female pirates and several security guards were beaten to death. Fortunately, as one commentator commented on, chuckling, the video of the robbery and interviews with reliable witnesses did not lend any credence to these rumors, as well as the fact that all the security guards were found to be healthy and accounted for except for one that claimed he was savagely beaten and was suing the Emperor’s line for ten million credits.

  There were about a thousand photos of the grinning pirates posing for selfies with the passengers, but the hats, wigs, bondage hoods, eye-patches and their costumes had done a wonderful job of disguising them. Now Peter was glad the costumes were so ridiculously over the top; he almost didn’t recognize himself.

  The owner of the exceptionally large Sunstone was offering a five-million-dollar reward for the thief’s capture or return of the stone. Crap! Peter thought. Maybe that stone was worth more than the price Floyd quoted, or the shit was inflating the price for insurance purposes more likely. Anyway, it just rendered the Heart of the Sun virtually worthless. How could he trust anyone to pay him for it when the reward was worth more than the trouble to cut it up and sell it? The small freighter’s theft had not even been reported.