Eric Olafson: Space Pirate

by Vanessa Ravencroft

  Her desires and motivations seemed that of a different person altogether. It was as if I shared my very being with another person.

  Narth’s voice inside me said, “Yes, it seems as if you have shared Hugavh with a female of your race. You are the same and yet different when you are her. Yet your core is still Eric. You are more complicated than the chaos inside a black hole. Luckily, you will eventually become Narth, but I think you will be the first among us who will have an individual name.”

  “One thing is certain, my friend; all this is beyond the comprehension of a Neo-Viking. I have this strange notion that there is yet another someone inside me. Not you, not Freya, but someone else. When I do the meditation exercises you have taught me, I can almost feel something else, something that is asleep but it is there.”

  Har-Hi interrupted our silent conversation and said, “Captain, you should go to bed, you are falling asleep on the Conn. Not that this is a bad thing, but your shift is long over, and we are still more than seventeen days out of Brhama. We can’t get any faster as we are towing the Mighty Nine.”

  I straightened myself in the seat and said, “It is a good idea, Har-Hi, and I will heed your advice, but first I am going to the den, have a bite to eat, and a nice cold swim.”

  He grinned and said, “I won; there won’t be any cold water in the pool for a whole week!”

  I got up and stretched. “Teaches me to wager with a Dai.”

  Since ship time was equal to Standard Union, the ship was still on night mode. Most beings had a wake and sleep cycle. So, a steady day/night cycle was part of the ship routine as it was deemed better and healthier for the crews. During day cycle, the corridors were lit with light that simulated the same spectrum of a GIII star, but during the night cycle, the lights had a softer yellow glow and only every third light element was on.

  This was the reason I didn’t expect many to be in our den, but I found Sobody, the Holdian, the Shaill and two Marines sitting around a smaller green table put upon the side and playing a game that involved colorful round coins stacked before them and little sheets of paper they held like a fan before their faces. Well, in the case of the Holdian, it covered much of his upper torso and he had to hold that paper fan with both his little hands. One of the Marines was a Pethanian and in his hand, they looked tiny. The Shaill used the mechanical hands of his hover sled, as it had no natural hands at all.

  The human Marine jumped up and said, “Captain on deck.”

  I said, “Not here, Marine, as you were.”

  He sat back down.

  I looked toward the ceiling as I always did when I addressed the computronic and said, “Ship, can you let the galley know I would like something to eat?”

  “Yes, Captain. I’ll take care of it myself.”

  While the Tigershark had Serv-Matics that could be found in almost every room of the ship, there weren’t any in the hangar bays, of course. Like the day and night cycle and for similar reasons, all fleet ships also had a real galley where food was prepared the traditional way. I had met our Chief Steward briefly as he boarded the ship on Richter Base and the ship’s galley was under the jurisdiction of the steward department. I also knew we had a Chief Cook, but I had not met him or her so far.

  I looked over Sobody’s shoulder and asked, “What kind of game are you playing?”

  He cursed with a deep smile of satisfaction on his face and said, “Polonium may kill whoever invented this game. It is a Terran card game called Poker and this smart Marine Corporal here has been showing us how it is played now for the last nine days. If we would play for real, he would be the richest son of a gun in the Union Marine Corps. Yesterday, he even won against Ship and Shea!”

  I took a step back in disbelief. “How could anyone win against those two in any kind of game?”

  The Marine now also grinned and said, “Because part of the game is how well you can bluff. Now, I can’t ever win against Lt. Schwartz or Ship again, as they now know how it is done, but I did manage to do so once, Captain.”

  “Maybe I need to try it myself, right after I eat.”

  Just as I said it a crew member I had not seen before walked in, followed by a stout-looking Elly wearing a white jacket and salt and pepper patterned pants. He was carrying a covered plate. The crewmember looked like a female X101, with the same chrome-colored skin, and I wondered why I had not noticed her before. Unlike Cirruit, she had shoulder-long hair very much like the silvery tinsel we used on Nilfeheim to decorate the Yule log. She wore Navy black and had the ensign rank bar on her collar.

  She greeted me and I immediately recognized the voice. It was Ship! “What do you think, Captain?”

  I smiled at her and said, “Very nice, and I am glad you followed up on that. Is it an avatar or a robot?”

  “It will be both, Captain. Cirruit managed to get a direct link to Mothermachine. She approved and is making me a real body that can directly link to my mind. Until we can pick it up, however, it is an avatar representation of Mothermachine’s design. Cirruit recommended that approach so my physical representation is above any legal challenges. With Mothermachine involved, no one will be able to challenge your decision to make me a person.”

  “Good thinking and I do like the hair. It looks very nice.”

  She said, “It is part of the newest X101 series improvement that has just been born.”

  I then pointed at the covered dish, held by the Elly. “Is that my dinner?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I made it myself and thought I’d take the opportunity to meet you in person. I am Petty Officer First Class Nanjo Eeeryt, and I am your Chief Cook. I noticed your preference for fish dishes and allowed myself to prepare you Terran French fish soup called Bouillabaisse and Norwegian Lutefisk with mashed potatoes, mashed peas, and bacon.”

  Remembering the Gelatinous Pulse Stink Maggots and the state dinner on Archilerb, I was not too keen to see what he fabricated.

  I changed my mind after the first whiff of the soup and, after trying a spoon, I was certain this was a close second to Midril’s Fin stew. He stood there watching me eat, and I noticed the poker game had stopped and everyone was watching me.

  It was as silent as in the cave of the forgotten clans so I said, “This is food fit for the Aseir! I must apologize for being skeptical. Mr. Eeeryt, this is the best I’ve eaten since I left Nilfeheim. I hope you made enough for seconds, and why is it I am eating alone?”

  I could not tell how or where they came from, but the table was full in no time and everyone was trying the fish soup.

  The cook said to me, “I know our reputation, Captain. Believe me, I do. I was the butt of every joke there is during boot camp and specializing training, but I learned cooking in a town of Earth called Marseille. I have worked as a chef at the Waldorf Astoria in New York and was the Head Chef on the Silver Swan, a five-star luxury liner before I decided to serve our Union.”

  I had stuffed myself like a starving Tyranno during the last Shortsummer month and hoped that my leather suit would hold. I leaned back and smoked one of Shaka’s cigarettes, as he had joined us as well. Before me was a cup of Navy blend coffee and a glass of golden whiskey that came out of a case McElligott himself had sent. The horror images of the last days slowly faded into the background of memories.

  To the Golden, I said, “Sobody, what can you tell me about Brhama Port?”

  He had just finished his third plate and pushed the plate away, dabbed his small mouth with a napkin and said, “The area is known to most as the Thalim Nebula. The Union calls it the Prometheus Five Star Nebula. While no one knows why, all five suns went supernova approximately at the same time, and it created a nebula. Not nearly as thick as the Igras Nebula soup and not as full of radiation as the Ballard Nebula those Mini Terrans call their home, but full of ‘roids. I mean asteroids and planetoids, micro matter and solar gasses. One side is in Union space and the other extends into Free Space. Brhama Port is much like my own bazaar, a hollowed asteroid, but much smaller.”
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  Ship called up a map of the area and then a visual of Brhama Port. While the holographic image was slowly turning in the middle of our table, Sobody continued, “The asteroid is about nine kilometers in diameter and, as you can see, looks more like a Terran potato than anything else. The area has always been a particular nasty space in terms of outlaws and pirates, but Brhama and the area around it is controlled by the Bassett ‘Roid Mining Association. The Bassetts are a big family of nineteen brothers and seven sisters with all their extended families. They are as tight as it gets and you only get in by marrying or being adopted. The other miners associated to that area lease their claims from the Bassett family by sharing parts of their profits. The port is also a well-known pirate hang out, and they can do as they please as long as they leave the miners alone. Attacking a miner is a no-no and stirs the Bassetts like a nest of Thikar-stingers. They do most of their business with the Kartanian and the Togar. The miners on Union Side are their sworn enemies, and there are constant battles, as the Union border is less than well defined in this area.”

  Shea, who had joined us just a few moments ago, asked, “The Bassetts are humans or a species?”

  Sobody shrugged. “I am not sure. I haven’t seen one personally, but they maintain a sales stall on my asteroid, and I was told they are humanoid. Rumors I cannot substantiate say they are a mix of Human and Kermac. Disliked on both sides and that is why they settled there, but then this family has been in business for almost one thousand years, and they keep their family secrets well.”

  Har-Hi sighed. “I know this area, actually. Well, the galactic north part of it. It was there where my father and the other clans that decided to join the Union crossed into Union Space, with Cam Elf-Na and 6500 Dai clans in hot pursuit. It was a dark day for the Dai indeed.”

  Sobody made a sad face and nodded. “I know, noble Har-Hi. There are many scavengers still scouring the area for Dai artifacts and scrap. I have seen many thousands of tons go through my bazaar alone.”

  Shea asked, “Why haven’t the Dai attacked this port?”

  It was Har-Hi who answered, “We don’t mine, but we need raw materials. Attacking them will supply you once, buying minerals and metals will allow you to get a steady and reliable source. I am sure these brothers have several clans among their steady customers.”

  Shea made Har-Hi tell the entire event out of his perspective, and he told us that this was when he saw the Devi for the first time. He had forgotten his cigar, which was burning in an ashtray before him, and he finished saying, “Only three weeks after that, I was on my way to the Academy.”

  Narth said, “You could have almost met each other back then; Eric and you, that is.”

  Har-Hi raised one of his sharply angled eyebrows and said, “I thought you weren’t in the Navy back then and still on Nilfeheim. Were you already fighting on Union side?”

  I said, “No, not exactly. I was aboard a civil yacht when we encountered a battleship of the Ima Clan under the command of a Dai named Win-Do.”

  Har-Hi now raised both eyebrows, “I know of him; he was always known for his exceptional hate toward all Union. I think his clan was destroyed as he was one of the first that entered Union Space. How did you survive?”

  I tried to tell the event without many details, but they kept asking and so I had to tell the whole thing.

  Har-Hi put his hand on my shoulder. “Win-Do made one fatal mistake; he asked Eric to surrender.” Then he started giggling. “You are something else, Captain. I wonder what else happened before you even went to the Academy.”

  Narth said, “Oh, there is quite a lot…”

  Epilog: Meeting on Alvor’s Cove

  Author’s Note: This is a chapter in my story that is not told by me directly. I added it to give those who read my adventures an insight into the politics and events of these days. I have met most of the characters and persons. From various sources like brain dumps, witness accounts, and interviews from which come the facts in this epilog. The rest is conjecture and some artistic freedom I am allowing myself. ~Eric Olafson

  About twenty klicks north of Alvor’s Canyon, where the mountains ended and the endless sand and dust deserts really began, a dull yellowish-colored all-terrain vehicle plowed through the rough terrain. It was an old machine with tracks and an engine that ran on a petroleum distillate, black stuff that could be found everywhere on this dusty, dry world. Ban-Ho, the driver and owner of the crawler was quite proud of it, as most of the other desert scavengers used carts drawn by Katthais lizards.

  Ban-Ho hated these lizards, mostly due to their revolting stench, because like all Dai he had an excellent sense of smell.

  That the other desert scavengers accused his machine of stinking even more bothered him little, as this was one of the benefits of his chosen occupation; you had very little social contact with anyone once you left town.

  Out here, he had time to think and talk to himself or his crawler. Whenever he started thinking, his mind wandered back, and he was once again contemplating the reasons he was here on this dry planet in the first place.

  The other Scavengers had long quit asking why he, a proud Dai Than space warrior became a planet-bound vagabond instead of raiding ships and planets with his clan. They didn’t ask because he had been here for over thirty-five years and they all had heard his story by now. Why he wasn’t with his clan was simple; his clan was dead, all of them. He was the last survivor, and they all had died because of him.

  He was the last of the Tun-Ha Clan as far as he knew.

  It was his task as scout to fly ahead, find a colony or prey to be raided and make sure the target was not too well defended. He remembered it as if it happened yesterday; the Union colony was there, a young colony with all the equipment and resources still mostly in containers, delivered there by the rich Union Colony Bureau. Containers full of machinery, metal, steel, those amazing Union Agra Bots and thousands of tons of food to sustain the colony until it was self-sufficient.

  Nothing the Union did was unorganized or desultory. It didn’t matter if it was something little, like their colony support and expansion programs or their mighty fleets. Other civilizations sent out colony ships more or less on a prayer and the hopes they would make it in whatever conditions they found. Not so the Union; they sent out survey ships and gathered data and then tailored huge colony packages with all the equipment the new settlers needed. This service was available for free to any group that went to the UCB and wanted to start a new colony.

  He knew all this from the settlers they had raided before. His tribe’s chief had never allowed them to take prisoners or engage in the lucrative slaving business. The chief always maintained this creed and made it law. Only take what we need, and let those who surrender live.

  The lonely Dai snorted at his own train of thought and clenched his fist .What good did it do to him or the clan?

  He removed the stained scarf from his nose and mouth and spit out the side window, took a sip from his cooler bottle and was convinced, like countless times before, there wasn’t anything better in this universe than good cold water. He grunted and took another sip, then replaced the scarf, and pulled the steering wheel to the side so his wide tracks would crush a Jahtori snake. He hated those, too, not for any particular reason other than that they had no value. Not even the elusive brown folks would eat them. There were no snakes in space, at least not this kind, and if he had not been blinded by that shiny, new, and seemingly defenseless colony, he would still be with his clan.

  He had done only a quick scan, completely overlooking the fifth planet, where an entire Union Battlegroup had landed and waited for them.

  His clan fought gallantly but was hopelessly outnumbered and outclassed, due to the cursed translocator technology that rendered the best Dai Shields useless. What good were shields when the Union could send exploding bombs of incredible magnitude right into an engine room or a bridge? They all died that day. The Union Fleet commander showed no mercy until the last Dai shi
p was destroyed.

  After this failure and being responsible for the demise of his clan, it would have been his duty to commit suicide. The only alternative to suicide in such a case was revenge. While he was emotionally devastated to lose his family and everyone he knew; he was not too keen on ritual suicide as the most honorable option would demand. Neither did he want to go to another clan and become an Inb-Tha, a coward who had failed to do his duty and not commit suicide, which was a fate worse than death.

  The truth of the matter was that he was a coward, a trait as rare as blue skin among the Dai, but not completely unknown. So instead of committing suicide or joining another clan in shame, the only other alternative was to affect revenge, but how impossible was that? So, he had decided to flee into Free Space and make his own destiny.

  At Sin 4, he had to sell his scout craft as it was out of fuel and he had no money to buy more. In a series of events, he almost ended up as a slave and was destined to fight in one of the arenas. He managed to escape by killing the slaver who thought he was too drunk to fight. He was a coward and by far not the best Dai warrior, but he was still Dai. The money he made from selling his ship and most of his gear was enough to get him a passage to Alvor’s Cove.

  At first, it seemed a bad decision to come here since this was one of the busiest slave markets in the Galaxy, but he had enough money from the ship sale and paid the Alvor Citizen Fee to the local lord and, unlike Sin 4, Alvor’s Cove had rules. The rules and laws were crude and simple but quite reliable.

  After a few weeks staying in a local hotel, he knew his money wouldn’t last, and he had to come up with a way to make his living, especially with the prices for water here.