The teen paled and stepped back. “Uh, OK being…”
Peter jumped in the cart.
“Hey! Wait! You can't take my delivery cart too!”
Peter cocked his head and put his hand on his gun. He gave the kid an exasperated look and snorted.
“Ah! Uh-- all righty then-- have a B-Bar-B-Que Bob’s day!" the delivery boy stuttered. He turned and quickly ran for the dock exit like his pants were on fire.
“Speaking of for fucks sake, can we go now, Peter?” Shirley said in amazement. “The Imperial Marine cruiser just appeared on my sensors. We need to leave now!”
“OK, uh, wait a minute.” He reached into the pouch on his spacesuit and pulled out the last brick of C-9, quickly jammed a radio detonator into it, and tossed it into the cargo bay and the temporary processing lab.
“OK, now we can go.”
Peter floored the cart into the hold, Shirley slammed the cargo airlocks closed, and they exited the station with due haste. He reached for the detonator and pushed the button, hopefully destroying all the remaining Quaxxin and the cargo bay. Peter distributed the foam containers of take-out Bar-B-que to the Lavana, and then sat wearily on an empty weapons crate in the hold and stripped off his spacesuit. The Lavana dug in to their rewards without ceremony.
“OK, Shirley, set a course for Ferntuckys moon.”
“Have you forgot how far Ferntucky is Peter? Do you have the drugs, IVs, and catheters for a hundred Lavana? I mean, ninety-two Lavana. Or do you think a hold-full of psychotic, hallucinating Lavana is a good idea?”
“Flox shit!" Peter said slapping his forehead. “How could I forget about that. Alright, let’s drop the Lavana off first.”
“Without a case of Bar-B-que sauce and the proffered pigs? Plus, one for every dead Lavana?” Shirley reminded him. “Chief isn’t going to be too happy with you if you come back less six Lavana and a IOU! Probably take you off his Christmas list and put you on his grocery list-- Hey! What about the dead Lavana? Where’s their bodies?”
“Crap! I forgot about that too. God dammit! I don’t have time for all this! I can't remember everything! Shit!”
“Don’t worry about the Lavana’s dead,” Marcus spoke up, “they don’t believe that the body has anything sacred about it. They’ll probably be more irritated that they didn’t get to include their former companions in the picnic.”
“By the way, Peter,” Shirley said sounding worried, “the Imperial Marines are hailing us like crazy, and five other ships of various sizes have taken off from the station in hot pursuit, also requesting to chat most vehemently. The marines have launched a few long-range missiles at us. Not a chance of them hitting us. I can take them out with the rail guns when they get close. I think they are just sending us a message. Oh, and they are gaining on us. I suspect they are all using strap-on, disposable boosters. I need at least two hours to get clear of heavy traffic areas and the gravitational pull of the planets and moons before I make a hyperspace jump. Most of those ships will reach us in one.”
“Double crap! Can't we just do an emergency micro-jump like before?” Peter whined.
“Peter!” Shirley said using her best school-teacher-stern tone. “This is a really busy sector of the Galaxy. The gravity of all the moving ships and planets throws my calculations off. The more times I do an uncalculated hyper-jump, the odds of us being destroyed go way up! We’ve done so many uncalculated jumps lately, I’m not inclined to risk another one unless we absolutely have to. Get it, dingdong?”
“Oh, Tarcacks balls! Again, I'm faced with crappy choices. OK, put the others on, let’s see what they want. Screw the Marines! I'm sure all I'll get from them is ‘Stop! You're under arrest! You can't win... blah, blah, blah!’”
“―Stop running you flox shit eater! We're going to catch you anyway. We can tell from your exhaust signature you don't have boosters. Why I'll―” the voice on the com broke in.
“So, hello to you too…. and who do I have the pleasure of talking to?” Peter spoke calmly.
“This is Captain Rankin, of the Tarkol’s Teeth. I paid six-million credits for my Quaxxin and you destroyed it! I'm going to throw you out an airlock and watch you leak fluids! Then I'm gonna cut a bunch of pieces off and beat the crap out of you.... take your ship, your money and anything else you have of value. I have it from my sources that Boss's safe was left empty. You wouldn't have seen my six-million in glow-metal bars lying about, would you?”
“Are you really doing things in that order? Doesn't make any sense to beat me and cut pieces off after I've died and been frozen. You'd need a really sharp knife too. Would it do any good to say no to all?”
“I don't think so, funny guy! You know what I mean. My acquaintances are out about three- million in Quaxxin and glow-bars too.”
“Well, in that case...kiss my lily-white butt, you have to catch me first.” Peter shut the connection off.
“Really mature, Peter,” Shirley drawled.
“He doesn’t like us anyway, so what the heck? How about the others, Shirley? Boss couldn't have that many customers waiting, could he?
“I’ll connect you with the other one...Tarcacks! Why do I feel like an old-time phone operator, all of a sudden?”
“Hello? Hello? Incontinence do you read? Hello? This is Heaven’s Battalion. Do you―”
“Yes, I read you loud and clear! What do you want? If you want to kill us, get in line!” Peter barked.
“Oh, no, we don't want to kill you. Is this the pirate, one-eyed Pete, I'm addressing?” the unknown female voice said hesitantly.
“Um, my name is Peter. I don't go by one-eyed Pete! For Tarcacks sake! I have two perfectly good eyes!”
“Oh, very well. Peter. This is Lieutenant Gracie of the Tarcacks Express. We met briefly six months ago, uh, under rather poor circumstances, I'm afraid. You see, you attempted to donate... and I /we behaved badly. We had no idea then, that although you were an ex-Quaxxin smuggler and likely going to hell for an eternity of suffering; you are under God’s influence and doing his will.”
“I--am--err, was?” Peter said incredulous and puzzled at the same time.
“Yes, you informed us that Quaxxin was made from the deceased corpses of sentient beings, making its sale and use even more heinous. We just heard that you destroyed Boss, and his filthy business of making and distributing the drug. We would like to help you.”
“You would?” Peter said even more incredulous, not believing his luck.
“Yes, praise Tarcacks! We have three warships at your disposal.”
“You do? Holy cra― Praise Tarcacks, I mean. How did you acquire three warships?” Peter said amazed, still not believing this.
“Those red kettles you see at Christmas time? We literally have been saving our pennies and credits for like, ever—over four hundred years. With compound interest, it adds up. We've had our own spaceships for almost forty years. Of course, we still help the needy and help out in disasters. Our ships spread God’s message and help beings of all sorts. We turn the other cheek whenever possible, but some beings are just not very nice. We help God out a bit by occasionally bringing someone to Jesus early when we have no other choice-- but we reject violence for the most part.”
“Well, you will be really stoked to know that we are on route to move the Baloovian planet to a new location so that they can never be killed or processed for drugs ever again! That’s got to really float your boat.”
“Yes, oh, Peter! That’s wonderful! Truly God’s hand is at work in you. Can't you see that?”
“I don't know about the God thing, but if you stop or delay the Imperial Marines, and the other gentlemen trying to stop us, that would be swell-- and God would think you are really Farzookian.”
“Done! With one condition...may we bring Salvation to the Baloovians?”
Sure... They're aliens, so I don't know how that will work for the Baloovians, but go for it, Peter thought feeling a little guilty when he thought about how gullible and innocent the
Baloovians were, but as it didn't involve their death, why not? A little god never killed anyone, did it?
“So, what did you have in mind?” he said aloud.
“This! Watch your outside cameras.”
Shirley switched on the eternal cameras just in time to see two of the ships in pursuit suddenly slam to a halt suspended in space.
“Wow! How did you do that? What did you do?” Shirley said, impressed. “That’s got to be unhealthy for everybody on board.”
A different voice spoke now. “This is Captain Sister Mary of the Tarcacks Pride “oh! Yes, unfortunately it was. We fired a micro black hole at them and released it from its magnetic doohickey—containment field, the moment it got close. Instant brakes! From whatever their speed to zero, instantly. Anyone on board probably has a bloody nose... um-- or worse,” Captain Mary said sounding sad.
“Gee, we appreciate it, but that’s a bit harsh, isn't it; you being a Christian, err Tarcackian and all? Where did you get a micro black hole, for Tarcacks sake?”
A third new voice added, “Well goodness.... they were without doubt, drug smugglers. They as much admitted it to the world a few minutes ago! Quaxxin is a very nasty and evil drug and they were threatening to kill you, so no doubt, they were murderers too! We didn't set out to kill them, we just stopped them. I think God would want them taken care of, so they couldn't do any more mischief, don't you? Oh, Sorry, this is Lieutenant Sister Celeste of the Tarcacks blessing, and as for the black hole? You would be surprised what people shove in the donation bins. Most of its junk, old clothes, baby strollers, or outdated electronics, but the micro black holes were a rather nice donation from a grateful asteroid miner that we helped when he was down on his luck-- and my-- didn’t they come in handy today!” Lieutenant Celeste added.
“Uh, right, thanks. What about those Imperial Marines?” Peter asked.
“Oh, I'm afraid you are on your own there. The Marines are after all, the good guys keeping order, protecting the weak, and a force for good. We couldn't possibly do anything nasty to them!” Mary added sadly. “Sometimes you just have to pay for your poor choices in life Peter—Tsk-- Tsk. I suggest you try to escape as best you can.”
“Fine...Well, at least you evened the odds a bit…say! Peter had a light-bulb moment, “You wouldn't, by chance, want a shot at bringing salvation to a bunch of cannibals, would you? I have two rather long trips to make, and I need to drop these Lavana off at their planet with some gifts and such. I'll even make a super large donation, if you help us out. How does half-a-million credits in glow-metal bars sound to take them off our hands?”
He heard a muffled discussion among someone out of mic range. Captain Mary came back on.
“Peter, that’s a wonderful idea! We have wanted to bring Tarcack and salvation to the Lavana for quite some time, but the planet has been proscribed, “Oh, this is wonderful, Peter! Praise God, two new alien groups to introduce to Jesus and Tarcacks!” Mary exclaimed jubilantly.
“We will release the drug dealers after you are far away, by putting those nasty black holes back in a magnetic Klein bottle. We will be saving those for another day.”
Peter worked out the details with Heaven’s Battalion to purchase the promised chickens, pigs, case of bar-b-que sauce and load all their gear. The ship pulled alongside the Incontinence, and they made the transfer as quickly as possible while traveling.
The Lavana were curious and couldn't resist poking some of the women’s breasts several times making Peter blanch, but the women shrugged it off, and made light of this breach of etiquette.
Before exiting the Incontinence, the Lavana’s looked at Marcus, lined up, slammed their fists on their breasts, and shouted their new battle cry of, “F-YOU!” Lieutenant Gracie and some of her fellow sisters scowled slightly at the Lavana’s language. Peter formally thanked the Lavana for their help and expressed condolences for their losses, but he was secretly grateful to see the last of the blue blood-thirsty aliens.
They were off, and not a moment too soon.
The Marines were within spitting distance. The captain of the Marine ships in holovid appeared in midair shouting when they unblocked communications.
“...are in violation of statutes too numerous to mention: including piracy, destruction of private property, murder, kidnapping! Answer, dammit! Prepare to be boarded! HMS Incontinence! Do you read? I repeat―”
“Save your breath, Captain Obvious. I'm very well aware we've been very, very naughty. So what else is new? Kidnapping too? Who did we supposedly abduct?”
“A being, known as Boss, has gone missing. We know he's a suspected drug dealer, but he still has rights, you know. This is Commander Bowden of the Hallifon’s Moon, you murdering flox shit eater!
“Oops! Sorry, if the hull breach didn't suck all of him out, there’s maybe a little dust left on the carpet, if you look real hard. I doubt if his relatives are looking for a decent burial. You'll just have to put that murder on my tab!”
“You already have so many deaths and murders attributed to you, I doubt it will matter, but I am legally bound to remind you that anything you say can and will be attributed to you in a court of law. Should you need an attorney…”
“Look, butthead,” Peter fired back at the captain angrily, “I just did you a favor killing Boss. We are now on our way to put the planet Baloovia off the map permanently; forever ending the trade in Quaxxin. Will that give me any gold stars with the courts?”
“That remains to be seen, Captain Farlon. I'm not a lawyer, but I seriously doubt it. Good deeds don’t erase murder and theft. Besides that, how do you propose to make a planet disappear? Magic? Or are you just going to vaporize their planet, you murdering bastard?”
“Let’s just say that’s exactly what it is for now; magic. That’s for me to know, and you to not find out.”
“That’s very childish of you Farlon. What do you expect to accomplish with your lies?” Commander Bowden said red-faced.
“To give you all a giggle at cocktail hour tonight?” Peter joked.
“We do not find you amusing at all, you bloody pirate. You're going to pay for all your crimes!”
“OK, put that on my tab too, and well, damn you, now you've crushed my dreams for open mic, stand-up comedy night this weekend! Shirley, this is pointless. Shut the dang channel down.”
“When we…” The com went silent.
“Tarcacks, Peter, do you have to twist his titties too like that? Before, maybe all he would have done was vaporize us in our shoes where we stood. If he captures us now, who knows?”
“Sorry, you only live once, Shirley, and fortunately for us, torture is illegal for the Marines. Now, how do we out run them?”
“The Marines we have a comfortable lead on, don’t worry about them,” Shirley reassured Peter.
“Alright, crew, listen up! Let’s have one last meal, take our purging pills, and catheter up, Peter said somewhat cheerfully.
“Uh, Peter? Did you remember to bring our sleep gear and stuff from Sarasota Station?” Monica asked hesitantly.
Peter slapped his forehead. “Ah, crap! I forgot to grab them. Shirley, where’s the closest star system?”
“Faloozia, but we can pick a section of empty space, if you like. The Medi-bot only needs a few hours to manufacture new sleep equipment, and such,” Shirley reported.
“How far to Karl’s planet, Milyorks?
“Forty-three hours, ship’s time.”
“Set a course for Milyorks, Shirl. We have the money now; I think it’s time to put so many weapons on this tub, our ass is dragging in space,” Peter said looking at Monica and grinning, “We also have the time and the money. Except for a few others, nobody but us knows where Baloovia is. We can take a slight detour. I'm tired of running from everyone, how about you? Tarcacks! Nobody likes us!”
John prepared a lavish feast for them over which they spent the next hours trading stories of the fight, and then the couples paired off to their respective cabins.
/> They entered the orbit of Milyorks a few days later, and Peter called his old friend Karl. There was still no space station, so they landed the Incontinence at the space port for the new weapons installation. Peter and the crew had to stifle their fears and try to not wet themselves as they once again flew down in a shrieking, popping and rattling planet-side landing.
Marcus went off to visit old friends and family with Oscar tagging along to be companionable and do some shopping.
Jikilenga, and John took the Lirley, with Peter’s permission, to a nearby ocean to spend a little R&R. It would take a few weeks for the improvements.
Floyd stuck close with Monica and Peter this time. They had learned a hard lesson in the artifact. They ate at expensive restaurants, did some shopping; even got a couple of tattoos; small matching skulls and crossbones on their butts as a joke. It was the first vacation they had had since embarking on this life of crime and piracy, and it—felt good.
In a few weeks, Shirley informed Peter that the ship was ready. Since the weapons systems were purchased from Karl, he wanted to make sure they were installed according to the proper specifications, so Peter and Karl inspected the ship together.
Peter gave a low whistle as they got close enough to see the Incontinence. Now twin long barrels of 1000 gigawatt lasers protruded from the ship, and the housings of four missile launchers ringed the hull; two facing forward and two facing backwards. The Torpedo tubes were not so obvious; the portholes covering their launching bays were covered.
The hull gleamed with a new coat of paint and a surprise. It had been streamlined. A lot. It no longer resembled a clunky box, but was almost sleek, and no longer resembled a freighter. Along with a nice new coat of black paint with a new ablative coating on the underside for re-entry, someone had painted a very realistic-looking dragon on the ship running from tip to tail on both the left and the right sides.
Peter looked at Karl. “This your idea?”
Karl scowled and shook his head.
Peter called Shirley on his com. “Hey, girlfriend, mighty impressive, but who ordered the dragons? Tarcacks how much did this fucking cost me!”
Star Hookers Space Pirates Page 35