The natives talked excitedly among themselves. Apparently, their hearing was really good too. The chief stroked his chin, and when he held up his arms, the chatter stopped.
“That not enough-- want sky weapons as well and magic skins that repel rock and spears. We have sky weapons before. We capture from assholes. Work twenty, fifty times then magic stop. Want way keep magic working or no warriors."
Shit! Peter thought to himself furiously, they are too damn smart-- he had hoped they would work for food.
“OK, agreed,” Peter said. "I will provide solar rechargers, extra clips-- err --magic for the lasers and other weapons to--- uh-- way to keep using magic on so sky weapons,” he smiled, “and I can provide some extra ammo―extra rocks for the rock throwers, but it will not last forever. You will not have technology to make more rocks. When guns run out of bullets or break you will have no way to fix them."
"Chief no understand all words. Still-- think he understand what saying-- give magic rocks, not forever. Guns that shoot lightning keep working. Lavana not have magic science to fix, not keep magic forever. Good. After battle, Peter take ten warriors-- teach magic called science.”
Shirley interrupted whispering in his ear. “Peter, this guy is good. Wiley, but now he’s just trying to gouge you. Even if you agreed, there’s no way ten bright-blue Lavana are going to be let into school with pencil cases in hand. Lavana's or cannibals will not be allowed to go to school on any of the Nine Worlds. We are not ever supposed to be here.
‘Sorry, chiefs greater than I will never agree to that. No,” Peter said crossing his arms over his chest. Even if they did not understand what he said, he was sure they understood what his body language was saying to them.
The chief sat back at this, stroked his chin, and scratched under his giant phallus thoughtfully.
“Then being called Captain Peter must also provide endless god food. Chief and warriors most enjoying”’ he said holding up a gnawed rib bone.
Peter turned off the translator. ‘What do you think, Shirley?’
‘Well, he’s got a good deal already, and he knows it! Being able to have working sky weapons and armor for even ten years or more, is a distinct advantage over his neighbors. I would expect to come back here in ten years and see him as supreme ruler or a least have a pseudo penis so big he can't walk. What would it hurt to give him some pigs and chickens, and some Bar-B-Que sauce to make his own god food too?’ Shirley said into his ear bead.
‘Chief strike hard bargain but agreed!’
“Peter, why are you talking like a goofy Holovid? Talk normally, doofus!” Shirley whispered over the com.
Peter looked up into the sky and rolled his eyes, but he continued, “I will bring back breeding pairs of what we call pigs and chickens, and ten cases of Bar-B-Que sauce. You are not going to understand what ten cases means, but it should be enough for all of your tribe for one of your years, if you use it sparingly. After that, maybe I can find a trader to come by every year and trade your jewelry for more Bar-B-Que sauce. *
*(This is of course the famous Falons treaty where he opened up Lavana to trade and made available the rarest of dining experiences; sentient beings. Because they volunteered to be consumed, this was declared moraly acceptable by the Nine Worlds. They did not taste like chicken. Lavana’s were a bit greasy, like goose.)
"This agreeable to Lavana Chief. How many warriors you are needing?"in
" Fifty," said Peter.
The chief sucked in his lower lip in disapproval. "Leave tribe unprotected. Not think possible."
“Tell you what, Chief. I'll leave you ten sky weapons... now, as a bonus and promise of good faith. Even a woman or young child can pull the trigger. They don't need to be a warrior.”
“That agreeable. But warriors die sometimes-- one extra sky animal--- every warrior who die,” the chief countered.
“Flox shit! This guy never stops, does he?” Shirley whispered into his ear.
“Agreed!” said Peter.
“Good! Feast, Lavana! Eat! Drink! Dance! Fornicate!” the chief’s aid addressed the crowd. What followed was much like a luau Peter had attended years before on Earth. Dances- When-Insect-Stings had brought the women he had promised and more food and drink was being shoved down their throats than was wanted or needed, The rest of the feast was spent trying to fend off the grabby hands and Lavana women rubbing up against them. The females made it abundantly clear that they would welcome some inter-species experimentation, while Peter and company all carefully examined the proffered food for intelligent bipedal origins.
Marcus and John seemed to be enjoying the attention, but Peter was just annoyed, and sore. He was glad when he could finally gracefully exit to the huts to sleep.
When John came stumbling in to their hut at dawn the next morning, Peter said crossly, "Where have you been?"
“Sorry, two lovely Lavana women just wouldn't take no for an answer.”
“Are you shitting me? You screwed an alien? Marcus said half asleep, but now sitting up, “Big blue monkeys with no tits?’
“Two aliens, and they are not monkeys, but primates and they do have tits... just not in the usual place. Don't tell me you have never had sex with another species’’
“Well...uh... but they were one of the civilized races, and at least mammals… oh.’
John raised an annoyed eyebrow, and scowled, ‘OH, spare me your moralizing! Besides, I was horny, I haven’t had sex in months! What they said about those tongues was true, ever had two females lick yo…”
"Shut up, you two! I need to talk to Shirley, and get this thing going," Peter said.
He called Shirley and started making plans. Lirley had already scouted out a clearing for staging only a few miles away. He had considered just using the Lirley to shuttle the army to the ship but the Lirley was to small and would have taken many trips. Besides Shirley had the proffered guns.
With the help of the Medibot`s and its manufacturing Nanobots, Shirley had made chemical toilets for the ship. Peter negotiated for the feeding of the soldiers with the Chief with native foods-- the one thing he didn’t need was a pack of cannibals with upset tummies.
The details took over a half a day to sort out. The Incontinence landed, supplies were packed, everyone loaded aboard, and they took off with the usual creaking , popping and shrieks of tortured metal and carbon fiber. Glad of a couple days’ travel, Marcus and John would have a chance to train the Lavana to use the unfamiliar armor and weapons.
Peter collapsed exhausted into his control chair on the bridge. All he could do now was worry and devise some sort of plan with Shirley and the others.
Chapter 25: Damn the Torpedoes, Full Speed Ahead
Peter checked on the Lavana later and they seemed to be taking it all in stride; like they had been riding in spaceships all their lives. It took them most of a week to get back to Sarasota Station, as they had to keep dropping out of hyperspace every few days, so the Lavana didn’t go insane. They had tried to explain to the Lavana about the need for elimination tubes and induction caps, but after the first one had growled loudly and grabbed his knife after the procedure had been explained to him-- they made it abundantly clear they drew the line at tubes being stuck in their butts.
He posted Floyd and Marcus in the hold to spare the rest of the crew from the worst of the Lavana’s behavior. They were curious, got into everything, and were not very good about putting things back. They also were not shy about adapting anything to make a bed, or nest. They complained about the hard floors, which was understandable as they had been sleeping on soft plant matter all their lives.
Floyd tried to explain again and again how to use the chemical toilets after quite a few accidents. Smart as they were, they couldn't quite get the concept of NOT squatting where they pleased when nature called, as that’s what they had done all their life. Only half a day and it was starting to smell like a zoo in the Incontinence's hold-- almost living up to its name.
Marcus was quite pi
ssed off about playing janitor, Shirley’s spider-bots were kept busy pinching the Lavana’s feet every time they squatted and pointing them to the toilets. Marcus wanted to rub their noses in their messes to break them of it, but after the first one bared its formidable teeth at him and grabbed its very wickedly sharp obsidian knife, he thought better of it.
As soon as the Lavana were settled, Peter and the crew assembled in the galley to plan their attack.
“OK, Shirley you observed the lay out and defenses of Boss’s offices,” Peter said thoughtfully, “I have mainly brought the Lavana as a diversionary tactic, and to keep the station personnel occupied. A direct assault on Boss's stronghold is just going to get everyone killed. I'm most worried about that tank of a robot stationed just outside where Monica and Oscar are being held. Where do we start?
“I've already put my considerable intellect on the problem, and the simplest way to go about nullifying the ceiling weapons is for us to implant a relay in the station’s electrical control center and simply turn them off. They may be under the Boss’s control, but the electricity to run his weapons still comes from the main power plant. I doubt he has his own power sources; as he knows an all-out assault on the power station from outside would kill station personnel,” she laughed, “He’s not going to be expecting a direct assault. That would be just insane on our parts. After all, where would we find an army in such a short time without him knowing?” Shirley snickered. “Although I imagine the power plant is well guarded, I have the plans for the station.” The blueprints appeared in the air in front of them.
“The robot should be easy to take care of,” John jumped in. “Just build us a magnetic-- explosive—thingy we can throw or shoot at the robot. Karl put lots of C-7 in our basket of goodies; Boom! problem solved.”
“That sounds good when you say it, but I just took a nanosecond to access data on a military robot chassis. Unless you hit them in just the right place, you’ll only damage them severely. Combat robots are meaner than a Wazzool. They can chew your ankles off with two hands tied behind their backs... uh, so to speak," Shirley said quite serious.
“These robots have teeth?” Peter said with a grin.
“Never you mind, Peter, I was speaking figuratively,” Shirley said putting her holographic hands on her hips and glaring at him, “but an explosion or collateral damage could injure Monica or Oscar as the robot’s closet is right next to their cabin. I might have the generic plans, but not any modifications that Boss might have done. I don't know if Boss has reinforced walls in their room, or armored them, but I doubt it, as he probably thinks his defenses are more than enough. When I get control of the power station I’ll find a way to shut the combat robot down”
“So, what are we going to do… bleed all over them till they give up?” John said with a sour expression on his face.
“Sometimes it’s better to sneak in through the back door, and avoid the fight altogether,” Shirley said with a grin.
“What backdoor? Space docking stations only have one entrance, the ship docks, except for a scattering of emergency maintenance hatches for micro-meteorite repair.” Peter ran his hand through his hair frustrated. Take us forever to all troop through a hatch, one by one.”
“And what do they do for larger repairs?" Shirley said with a smug smile on her face
“Just spit it out, Shirley, I'm not a station repair man. I don't have a farking clue! What’s your plan?” said Peter, irritated.
“All stations have a mobile repair pods that seals against the surface allowing for larger repairs. We steal, ah...borrow one, maneuver to where Boss's offices are. They will be easy once I'm tied into the station systems, just cut into the station’s surface and the four outer layers, and extract Monica and Oscar that way. See? Fight avoided!” Shirley said, clapping her holographic hands together with delight.
“Ah, the old caper solution,” Peter said delighted.
“What’s that?” Shirley took a nanosecond to access data, "Oh, you refer to your old movies again-- exactly. The Lavana’s and Johns group will distract the bulk of Boss’s forces, while the rest capture the power station, that’s a must. You insert my relay while you pull off the caper Peter and rescue the ladies.”
“All we have to do is plan our assault on the power station. Now, I see why it’s always the power station in the old movies they hit first.”
“Whatever, Peter. You three brainstorm the main battle,” said Shirley.
Soon they were all engrossed in studying the layout of Sarasota Station, and arguing about who was going to rescue the women.
The preparations went by all too fast, and before they knew it, they were back in normal space and hours away from the assault on the Boss’s headquarters. Peter had a good deal of confidence in their plans, but his stomach was clenched in a knot. He had had to serve two mandatory years in the planetary guard on Earth and had basic training in how to fight, but the only thing his guard unit had ever killed was a lot of beer on the weekend.
John and Bob-Six were to split off a small party to Boss’s hallway for the diversion, they were told to avoid engaging the battle robot and run like hell if it made an appearance; while Peter piloted the repair pod to where Monica and Oscar were. Jikilenga was to stay behind and guard the ship dock. They knew from experience that running was not a skill the Vookin possessed.
Marcus had complained bitterly about Peter getting to have all the glory of rescuing the women, but as Peter pointed out, he was not a soldier; leading the Lavana into battle was going to be the glorious part. He was just sneaking in to pick the ladies up.
Marcus seemed satisfied with that, although he knew his part was the most dangerous, but he was young and loved a good scrap. He had only been in one real firefight, and when it was live fire, it was exhilarating. This would be his first time commanding a platoon. Peter did not have to work hard to convince him to lead the main assault group
Marcus had been drilling the Lavana hard for two days. They were as ready as they were going to be. Peter had walked down and watched them drilling the day before; they were naturals, enthusiastic. Every time their comrades scored a good shot at Shirley’s moving holographic targets, they all hooted, shrieked with joy, did back-flips, and jumped up and down. Marcus had to admonish them several times to not fire their weapons into the air. The ceiling was already pocked with celebratory shooting.
“So how goes it, Marcus?” Peter inquired.
“These guys are naturals. Talking to them, from the time they can stand and hold a rock, they are hunting or fishing, and as soon as they hit puberty they are taught to fight. I see why the Nine Worlds are afraid to let them off the planet or to introduce technology to them; natural scrappers.”
“Good work. We will be docking with Sarasota Station in about an hour and a half, get ready. A minute before we dock, I'll be launching myself from the Incontinence and maneuvering by suit jets to the repair pods to high-jack one. Keep me posted on your progress by data-com. Shirley will guide me to a final placement as soon as she’s hooked into the station’s systems.”
‘Sounds like a good plan, Captain,” Marcus said bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.
“Relax, Marcus. We still have an hour. Do whatever you need to chill but remain focused.’
‘No prob, Peter. Sorry, I'm just keyed up. I've never commanded a platoon before, much less a mob of blood-thirsty, blue alien primates.’
“I have confidence in you, Marcus," Peter said, patting him on the back. “Uh...you'll do fine. Most of these guys are only station personnel; shopkeepers, I think. Boss is going to concentrate his trained guys around his offices. Try to keep casualties to a minimum. Use the tangle nets and the tranquilizer darts unless you have to use deadly force, and tell the Lavana no snacking on the downed personnel-- I'll take them out for BBQ afterwards,” Peter said with a hearty grin, inwardly hoping they didn't screw this up.
“Uh, I know your part has the highest possibility for casualties, so be careful,�
�� Peter said softly, grasping Marcus by the shoulder. “Use the Lavana and hang back. Don’t be hero!”
“Roger that, Captain,” Marcus said with a wink.
Peter strode back to his control chair and sat brooding for the next little bit until it was time to go.
All too soon Shirley announced, ‘Final approach, Peter. Should I put you through to snot-butt?”
“Yeah, go ahead. He’s going to know something’s up the minute the cargo doors go up, and a bunch of other aliens come boiling out of the hold instead of the Baloovians he ordered, but let’s not leave the greeting party waiting,” said Peter nervously.
“Ah, Peter! Right on time! How nice! Another cargo of pure profit? You certainly cut it close on the time.” Boss burbled with satisfaction.
“Uh, you betcha. Again, no problems. Easy as pie. I'll be seeing you momentarily,’ Peter lied.
“Very good, Peter. Later,’ Boss added.
Peter blew out his breath, “Whew, here goes nothing! Wish me, uh, us luck."
“It will succeed, even for a nincompoop like you. I've seen your success in the stars!” Shirley said cheerily.
‘Rubbing your crystal ball again?” Peter said nervously.
“So to speak. See you on the other side! Break a leg!”
“What?”
“Sorry, old show biz term; means good luck.”
Peter hurried to the airlock and suited up, dropping the maneuvering harness over his suit. He used one of the small maintenance airlocks to exit the Incontinence, and with his magnetic boots holding him to the surface, turned to face the station. It seemed very far away in the vastness of space. He had never done a spacewalk in the emptiness of space before without a tether. His heart was thumping loudly in his ears, as he launched himself toward the station in the distance.
Shirley docked the Incontinence in Boss's dock and waited for Marcus's signal to open the bay doors. Marcus had lined up the Lavana ten abreast, five rows deep. That was all the cargo bay doors would accommodate. Floyd was going to lead the charge with Marcus bringing up the rear; the Lavana couldn't read signs or directions on a map, they would soon be lost without them. The leading group was armed with the tranquilizer Flechettes, and Tangler nets; the middle and last group with lasers, beamers, and flash bangs. Floyd was packing the only air hammer they had. This was the deadliest weapon they possessed, next to Marcus's sonic torpedo launcher. They had as many fragmentation grenades as they could carry, and few smokes in case they needed cover. It made Floyd look a little ridiculous with all the multiple bandoleers crisscrossing his body. He looked like a cartoon bandito.
Star Hookers Space Pirates Page 32