“That would be me!” Shirley said, proudly and quickly added, “Don't worry, I paid for it.”
“Really! With what?”
“My own money, dickweed! For over a hundred years, with everybody I've worked for, I would tack on a few bucks extra when buying fuel, asking for docking fees, and stuff like that. Making wise investments over time, I was able to save up quite a tidy sum. You know, prescience comes in handy! Oh, and it’s called, ‘called pimping your ride.’”
“Really? Like, how much did it cost?” Peter asked curious.
“None of your bee’s wax, but about 100 million credits, give or take for the paint job—it’s a genuine Moodoba Shen
Peter squeaked— “What?”
“Yep, I’ve got a few bucks! What do you think I was buying all that extra brain power with?” Shirley said amused.
“Oh! You'll be happy to know, I had the contractors reinforce me here and there while they were at it-- take out any non-necessary bulkheads-- added a lot of streamlining-- eliminated the old freighter look. The engineers swore that with their improvements and reinforcements, I shouldn’t need a new ship for another hundred years. My skin has been replaced with Nano foamed steel It shouldn't be such a bumpy ride anymore, and I added some other surprises too! Since I was keeping this old carcass, kinda-- I figured some bling wouldn't hurt; the paint fluoresces and appears in 3-D!”
“Wow, Shirley! Once again, you surprise me.
“A Space Dragon? OK, I get the joke, but why?” Peter was truly puzzled.” Isn’t this just a bit excessive, expensive and juvenile? It really pisses me off that you had money, and you let us go off into danger when we could have been weaponized much sooner.”
“If I had told you I had money, then I would have had to reveal my sources and my plans. We did OK, didn't we? Besides, I had the foresight to see that we would come through just fine. That much was clear. You know how it is with us females; your money is our money and my money is my money.” Shirley snickered most unladylike.
“Anyway, we're coming in,” Peter said, changing the subject. “Open the airlocks, will ya?”
The doors slid open with a whoosh, and Karl and Peter walked into the cargo bay. It seemed normal except for six strap-on, booster rockets crowding the once roomy hold. When they reached the galley, something was askew that Peter couldn't quite put his finger on until he got to the pilot’s room where it was obvious what Shirley had done.
Peter said to the air, “Really? Shirl? Gold-plating on the control knobs and vents?
“Why not? I'm as rich as an old-time sheikh, or Stephen King! Besides, gold-plating was on sale! You should see the bathrooms, earth marble and Volgun Folstone. Whew-wee! It almost makes me wish I had to poop! If we are going to be spending a lot of time here, we might as well have a ride that’s comfortable and opulent, hmm? I didn't mind spending the money. It’s not doing anyone any good in a bank,” Shirley laughed smugly.
Peter used the com to contact the rest of the crew. It took a day, but everyone assembled as quickly as they could from various spots, and they made their preparations for a long hyper-jump. They left for the Artifact without ceremony.
~
They cruised silently in to Ferntuckys artificial moon. Space traffic was light to non-existent. Shirley assured Peter that the Artifact had no sensors to detect their presence as they drifted in; at least none that Yuen and Yen could read from the ancient machinery, and that there were no more warships lurking. Boss had destroyed the Colony’s only one the last time they were there. They pulled in to where they had docked previously and were happy to see less than half a dozen ships parked there. This time there was no electric cart to greet them, and none in the charging bays.
“Hmm, now what, Shirley? It’s a long walk to Yuen’s Last Chance Cafe and the control room. Are they still not answering the com?”
“No, the little assholes. Have you forgotten we have the electric runabout you stole from Bob’s Bar-B-Que?”
“I did forget! Shit! Alright, let’s go.”
Peter depressed the open com to the ship. “Attention, John, Oscar, and Marcus! Meet me at the cargo bay exit; we have work to do.”
“Wait, Peter! Here’s another one of my little surprises!” Shirley said with delight. A panel slid back and a female in a business suit walked out.
“This is a robot I had made. I don’t need an android. I have no need to eat or pretend to be a human in any way, but I thought having a mobile body might come in handy, and I had the money. Spider-bots and flying drones are so impersonal and irritate most beings.”
Shirley’s drone was beautiful, of course. She had raven black, shoulder-length hair, and slightly oriental eyes; most humans had some Asian genes after three hundred years. A peaches-and-cream complexion, high cheekbones, a pert nose, and full, sensual lips, highlighted a perfect figure.
“Nice!” Peter said whistling. “Alright, let’s go.”
Everybody boarded the electric runabout, including Floyd, and they headed to Yuen’s Last Chance Café to evict the last occupants of Ferntucky.
Once again, they enjoyed the open vistas of the far-away ceiling, and in no time they pulled up to the Last Chance. They walked around the one lone rover parked in front and entered the café through the batwing doors. Only two men, who Peter presumed to be scientists, looked up curiously and then pretended to be interested in their food again.
“So, how do you plan on getting to the control room?” Peter asked Shirley's Robot/drone beside him.
“It took about seven hours to travel to the control room last time. Tell them they have twenty-four hours to evacuate or they go on an unexpected trip to another galaxy.” Shirley’s drone answered. She walked over to the two seated men.
“Is that your Rover outside?”
“Yeah, so what?” one said belligerently.
“I need to borrow it,” Shirley said cheerily.
Both men laughed uproariously.
“OK! Right! Pull the other one, lady!”
Shirley picked up a wooden a chair, pulled it apart like taffy, and dropped the pieces to the floor with a series of clunks. They stared goggle-eyed but made no move to accommodate her. She put her hands on their shoulders and started to squeeze.
“Boys, boys, I suggest you co-operate,” she said looking back and forth between them. “You need to leave this rock anyway. Didn’t you hear the mandatory evacuation order? Peter, over there,” she said cocking her head at Peter, “will compensate you for what it’s worth. Got it?” She released their shoulders. They were white-faced with pain. Gingerly, one of them lifted the keys off the table and placed them carefully into Shirley’s drone hand.
“Thanks!” she said sweetly.
“Peter, be careful,” she said turning to him. “I will see you soon. Make sure you get everyone off this thing. I think the longer we hang out here, the more time someone else has to marshal opposition.”
Peter turned on his heal and went in search of Yen and Yuen. They were both in the office sipping glasses of wine as if they hadn't a care in the world.
“Ah! If it isn't the running dogs of the capitalistic society! What can we do for you?” Yuen said sarcastically.
“You already know that! Get out!” Peter said abruptly, “Shirley called you weeks ago telling you to vacate and you are still here, are you stupid or just being deliberately obtuse?”
Yuen leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “What you want is simply impossible!” he said. “There are still at least three groups of scientists still scattered around the Artifact. I’ve been calling them, but even if we can find them it will take them at least twenty-four hours to pack up and get back to their ships, and that’s if they have their coms on, listening.” He scowled unhappily. “I also don’t give a Ginkas balls what you want asshole. We’re not leaving. This is our Property and you have no right to order us off!”
“Sorry, not my problem about the scientists, and like I could give crap what you want Yuen. I suggest
you get cracking. Send some fliers out; tell them to drop their shit, gather their notes and blow. You should have done that already when Shirley sent you the order to vacate. If we find anyone on the station later, we will have no choice but to kill them. We simply cannot have anyone left here.”
John jerked his head angrily at Peter, who made a furtive hand gesture and half a wink to let him know it was an empty bluff. Yet, Peter was baffled. Yen and Yuen didn’t seem particularly perturbed by being evicted.
Slowly both Yuen and Yens hand that wasn’t holding a wine glass, started to come out from under the table. Without warning Floyd pushed John hard and he fell sideways sending Peter and Monica crashing to the floor. Bullets sprayed the air they had so recently occupied. Floyd jumped the short distance to Yuen’s desk flipping in midair to land feet first into Yuen’s face. Yuen crashed backwards into the wall, cracking his head against the wall, and Floyd grabbed the open wine bottle off the desk and threw it at Yens head which scored a direct hit on her cheek. It snapped her head back where she too slammed her head against the back wall. Plastic bullets sprayed harmlessly across the Botyguards chest. The Robots quick reflexes and observance had saved their lives.
Stunned, Peter, John, and Monica stumbled to their feet. Floyd walked over to Yen and peeled an eyelid back.
“Both unconscious sir, should I kill them?”
“No-o-o. Flox shit! Should have known they had something planned,” Peter shook his head, “we need them to help us find the scientists. Tie them up and we will take some fliers out and see if we can find these idiots that are still out there.”
They split off into the two groups and went searching for the scientists. Yuen and Yen bloodied and tied up were not very cooperative, but a few love taps on their heads encouraged them to be more helpful in locating the missing groups. Two groups of them were easy to find. They answered their coms as the fliers got near. They protested, and they whined, but they had no desire to be taken on an unwanted trip to parts unknown. They soon broke down and packed up. The last party was harder to locate. It took them more than the seven hours they had allotted to Shirley’s drone traveling to the control room.
Shirley called them while they were rounding up the last of the scientists., “I’m at the control room now, Peter. I'm activating the engines now, but there’s a slight problem.”
“What now?” Peter slumped in his flyer’s seat.
“The Artifact is surrounded by Marine cruisers, and what I can only assume are pissed off Quaxxin dealers, Media, looky-loos, and planetary ships from Ferntucky. Shit. the Circus is in town and everybody wants to see the Elephants” Shirley said worried.
“So? We’ll take off when were done! Screw em! I'm not here for a fight.”
“Are you forgetting that anything close to the Artifact will be dragged along with us in hyperspace, bonehead?”
“Oh, right! Flox shit! How many ships are we talking about? I think we can take on a few in a fight with our weapons now, don't you?”
“How about all of them!” Shirley offered.
“What do you mean, all of them? Peter questioned.
“I think everything flyable in the Nine Worlds is out there. I exaggerate a bit, but its space to space vehicles out there.”
“You can’t be serious! Put the exterior of the Artifact on screen, Shirley. Give me a sense of what we're up against.”
The borrowed flier's Holoscreen popped up before Peter, but at first, he couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. He had heard of and seen pictures of old time traffic jams during what was called rush hour in ground vehicles. He couldn’t believe this many ships could fit in one area of space. Ships of every size, shape and description crowded around the Artifact. Marine cruisers, freighters, space recreation vehicles, space yachts, news ships from all the major channels... outside of a celebrity wedding, Peter had never seen anything like it.
“Mother fu…” Peter’s voice trailed off in astonishment, “How the fudge did word get out that we were here, Shirley?”
His eyes trailed across to Yen, who in spite of being tied up and her check swollen, was smiling evilly at Peter.
“Son of a bitch! You fucking whore! I don't know how you did it, but shit!”
Peter got up, un-holstered his blaster, and whacked Yen savagely across the back of the head.
Yen grunted in pain. Then smiling, Yen spat at Peter.
“See? You’re not going anywhere asshole. We called the authority’s a week ago, after you sent us that ridiculous message to get off our property.
“Sir, as satisfying to the reptile part of your brain as it may be to smack this human about some more,” Floyd spoke up, “the cat is out of the bag, as they say. Perhaps we should think of what course of action we should take now.”
“Yeah, Peter, you sure have developed a mean streak!” Marcus said with mock outrage.
Peter glared at Marcus, “mean streak-- mean streak? This from a guy that allows his troops to cut their opponents’ heads off, and parade them around some stations corridors?”
“Yeah, well—I, uh...”
“Tarcacks! They tried to kill us after all. That makes me a little bit cranky,” Peter slapped the side of his head,” How the hell do I keep getting us into so much trouble? All I wanted to do was rob a few ships and get a little rich. How did I get involved with saving the Universe from a deadly drug, and consequently, everybody hating me?” Peter spoke to the air exasperated.
“Dumb luck?” Shirley snickered “Anyway, the good news is, nobody’s trying to come in and try a direct assault on the Artifact and us. Guess they are waiting for us to come out and play.”
“This is not funny, Shirley! So what is our next move? Once again, it seems like we are screwed. What does your fortune telling tell us about our chances?” Peter grimaced.
“Unfortunately, this is one of those critical junctures where the future is unclear. The possibilities branch in a thousand different directions. If I were to take a guess, Captain, I calculate our odds of surviving this are exactly one million point five to one that we get out of this alive,” Shirley said flatly.
“That bad?”
“Peter, I'm just screwing with you,” Shirley said with amusement in her voice. “That Vulcan guy on that old TV series was screwing with his Captain too, I suspect. You simply can't calculate odds on something with so many variables. Besides, the real odds are probably much, much worse.”
Despondent, they set the fliers controls for the Last Chance and met up with the other groups. A few hours later they saw the last of the scientists to their ships, and escorted Yen and Yuen to theirs, cut their bonds and then watched them depart. Peter outlined what they were up against to the others, and they drove the electric cart back to the bar of the last Chance Saloon to toss around their options and frankly… get stinking high.
Chapter 28: Battle of Baloovia
“We are so screwed Pete,” Oscar said angrily, sipping a drink under the stuffed head of a Wazzool, its large shark-like teeth glinting evilly in the candlelight. “Maybe we should just surrender?”
“Sure, that’s one option. If you would like, I could just shoot you in the head and save you a lot of trouble-- that would be the merciful thing to do. I don't know who will get the pleasure of executing us, but I guarantee they will not show mercy or give us only a few years. We are all looking at a death sentence, or...worse.” Peter shuddered as he thought again of all the torture and unpleasantness in store for them.
“Couldn’t we say you forced us into it, brainwashed us or something?” Marcus asked.
“Throw Peter to the wolves, you mean? Blame it all on him, you shit!” Monica said eyes flashing with anger.
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea, Marcus. You weren’t with us when we hijacked the cruise ship and have not been recorded or identified on any of our little escapades. You can probably leave the Artifact and get away with that story. I wouldn't blame you. Take the Lirley.”
Marcus looked around and g
ulped. Oscar looked at him sadly, nonchalantly, while all other eyes bored into him.
“Ah, shit! How am I supposed to do that with you all looking at me like that?”
“Go on, lover boy, you don't owe me anything. Don't be feeling guilty,” Oscar said making shooing gestures, “No use in all of us dying needlessly. Go for it, Marcus.”
“Oh! Man! I'm tempted, but I would never be able to live with myself. Besides, they have me on video for the attack on the station. They can probably identify me, even if I was all covered in armor. I must be crazy, but I'm staying with you guys, regardless of what happens,” Marcus said stubbornly.
“You are crazy, Marcus, why―” Monica froze in mid-sentence, eyes opening wide in realization. “Holy shit! Shirley, how far are we from Baloovia?”
“I don't know, maybe three, four day’s travel in hyperspace. Wait! Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Shirley said excitedly.
“Yeah! If we drag those ships along, it might be days before they realize it’s going to be a long hyper jump!
“Wait! OK, I get it! A long hyperspace jump would disorient and drive most of them crazy, but facing a large number of armed Marines that are half crazy, is that much better?” Peter said with wonder.
“Well, it’s better than nothing! We could have a chance, if they are half out of it. It reduces the number of ships we have to deal with also, we won’t drag all of them with us” Shirley went on.
“I like our chances with that, Peter!” Monica said happily.
“So, what are we waiting for? Let’s do it!” Peter said enthusiastically,
“Sir, has it occurred to anyone that the Marines and the rest may might already have the equipment aboard to cope with a long hyper jump?' Floyd said.
“I can answer that one!” Oscar jumped in. “Most Marine cruisers don’t carry the catheters, glucose packs, and induction caps that a long hyperspace jump requires, because they mostly only do short jumps between the Nine Worlds, and only that system that they are assigned to patrol. All that stuff takes room; for six hundred Marines, a lot of room. They had almost two weeks to get here, they probably did short hops.
Star Hookers Space Pirates Page 36