Doc Roberts: Space Pirate

by Jay Toney

  The next day, they went flying again. This time she didn't just do aerobatics with her wings. She danced in the sky with them, surpassing her mate's skills with their use.

  They returned to the Queen Anne's Revenge on the morning of the third day. Elaunae is smiling. She is excited and has what she hopes is good news for her mate, but she is waiting until they are back in the privacy of their cabin to tell him. Elaunae hopes that her husband will be in the mood to celebrate after hearing what she has to say because she wanted to experience the pleasure that their mating gave her.

  Doc is intrigued and curious about what she wants to tell him. So much so that he skipped the planned inspection of his starship. When they were settled back in their cabin, Elaunae said, "Husband, I have wonderful news for you. I am with child."

  "When did that happen? How?"

  "Do you not know how babies are made?" she laughed.

  "I do, but we are from different species. How is it possible?"

  "Our species share a lot of genetic similarities. Pregnancy seldom happens between our species, but it does happen. I have been pregnant since the start of our honeymoon, waiting for our return to tell you the good news," Elaunae told her husband.

  "I suppose we have some time to prepare, between eight and nine months," Doc said.

  "We do not. The gestation period of Iniguar women is 19 weeks, and four of those weeks have already passed," Elaunae told her husband.

  "Is it a boy or girl?" He asked her.

  "I do not know, nor do I have a preference. It is a baby, and he or she will be healthy and happy. That is all that matters to me. If it is a boy, he shall be named Nathaniel. If our child is female, she will be called Nathania." Elaunae told her husband. "Among my people, women are responsible for naming their children."

  Damn! Doc is excited about having a baby with his wife, but he doesn't have much time to prepare. Ready or not, the baby will be born soon.

  He still has a ship to run, and that meant he has to get to work. Starships don't make money sitting in orbit.

  A New Hope

  The Queen Anne's Revenge had been away from Antares for a little over two months. During that time Doc completed two jobs. They weren't very profitable, but they brought in enough credits to keep his starship running without dipping into the starship's emergency account.

  The overpowering smell of Jakaroot from the last job Doc accepted still permeates the starship. The stench from the roots makes the starship smell like the inside of a sulfur pit. Doctor Marcus assured the crew that the rotten egg smell is harmless. If that is the case, why is he wearing a respirator?

  The juice that is extracted from the exotic root is used to produce hallucinogenic drugs, some legal, most not. Addicts frequently chew the raw roots to give more realism to holographic simulations, and for the feeling of euphoria that they get while chewing them. Doc couldn't figure out how people got passed the fetor to put the foul tasting root into their mouths.

  Jane, Randolph, and Gloria are each supervising teams of maintenance technicians cleaning the air purification filters and scrubbing the ductwork to get rid of the smell. No matter what they disinfected or how hard they worked at cleaning; they couldn't get rid of the stench. Doctor Marcus assured us that the smell would fade away in a few weeks time. Until then everyone aboard the ship would have to suffer. He was wrong. The odor is as powerful as the day it permeated the starship. The next time, if there is a next time, Doc smuggled Jakaroot; he would charge double the rate. It paid the expenses, but there wasn't enough profit to make the job worthwhile. Especially with all of the effort that is going into getting rid of the smell. If he didn't pay the crew a decent bonus for having to live in the stench, they would likely abandon him and his ship at the next port of call.

  Elaunae didn't seem to mind the smell. She explained, "I have smelled much worse in the swamps of my home." Doc couldn't see, or rather smell, how that was possible. He never smelled anything so foul in his life. Worse, the smell makes his wife's cooking taste terrible, and the frozen meals taste even worse.

  Doc had enough time for one more job before returning to the Antares star system. His wife insisted that their child is born planetside. Antares is as much of a home for Doc as his starship is. First, he had to find something that would make enough credits to keep his starship operating in the black while he took some time off with his wife after the birth of their baby.

  Doc wanted at least four children, two daughters, and two sons. He wanted at least one of his sons to follow in his footsteps and one day command the Queen Anne's Revenge. It seemed like he had just learned of his wife becoming pregnant and now she is already starting her final trimester.

  The Queen Anne's Revenge is on the way out of the Talos solar system. Her cargo holds are empty. After transferring the load of Jakaroot to its space station, no merchant wanted anything to do with loading cargo on Doc's starship. Even the people who came aboard his starship to take possession of the Jakaroot wouldn't load any freight on his ship until the smell is gone. That is another reason he needed to raise his rates. No one would load any cargo on his ship fearing that the odor will contaminate or devalue the cargo.

  The Queen Anne's Revenge's transponder is broadcasting the super freighter Goliath's codes. Doc typically either turned off the cruisers transponders to help make the ship as invisible as possible or he broadcast the signal of a super freighter to account for his ship's size and mass. He ran the starship's drives at minimum power to hide the fact that they are military class engines and he coasted when possible. Without the drive plumes or the transponder signal, his cruiser looked like a piece of space junk on sensor scans. Undoubtedly, the space station's traffic controllers know who he is and what his starship is but don't care. His cargo was delivered. That was all that mattered to them.

  "Captain, I am picking up an energy distortion bearing 27 degrees, range 140,000,000 miles. It looks like a ship or ships coming out of hyperspace." Jadsia split the forward view on the viewscreen to show our tactical display. Two blue icons appeared on the screen ahead of us.

  "Captain, I have more information on the approaching ship's. Their transponder signals indicate that they are bulk freighters, the Star Gypsy and the Lucky Charm. They both have Avalon system registrations," Devon reported.

  Damn it all to hell! The Alliance is moving in on my territory again in violation of our agreement. No Alliance starships, even freighters, are supposed to be operating anywhere near Antares. Whatever their reason for being here is, it isn't for my benefit, Captain Roberts thought. The Talos system is a part of my hunting grounds. He didn't pay the Alliance the credits they demanded for his exclusive use for this region of space just so they could cheat him too. The Alliance needs to be taught another lesson. There is a price to pay for violating the agreement.

  Trade between the Alliance is legal according to the 100 Years War treaty, but it is only commonly done with the star systems that border their territory. Trade benefits both the Alliance and the Commonwealth of Free Worlds, so any irregularities with the merchants that choose to cross the border are generally ignored by both governments. The presence of armed ships of war, like my heavy cruiser, are not allowed or tolerated by the Commonwealth of Free Worlds. Even though Doc's vessel is a privately owned and maintained starship, it is still considered a ship of war. The treaty demands that Doc's starship is disarmed and that it is escorted by a Commonwealth escort. That isn't going to happen. Not with the type of work Doc does. Nor are they going to accompany the Alliance vessels that he meets to pay his quarterly tax payments. Captain Robert's fees are paid in advance, and his next payment isn't due for another 15 Terran standard months.

  "Sound general quarters. All gunners report to their duty stations," Doc ordered Devon. Then he turned to Natasha. "Seal a
ll bulkhead doors and hatches. Alter our course to intercept the trespassers." Whatever those ships are carrying belongs to Doc Roberts now. If they are empty, the parts he salvages from them would have to be payment enough.

  "We will be in weapons range in five minutes," Jadsia reported to Captain Roberts.

  "It's time to let the Alliance freighters know just how much they screwed up. Change our transponder signal to the Queen Anne's Revenge's codes," Doc instructed Devon.

  "They are powering their weapons," Jadsia reported.

  "Raise our shields," Doc told Natasha.

  "Devon, inform our gunners to shoot to disable only. No one is to fire until I give the command. I want those ship's intact."

  "Two minutes until weapon range," Natasha announced.

  "Everyone standby. Hold your fire," Doc ordered.

  "They are firing," Jadsia reported. Red bolts of energy splashed harmlessly against the Queen Anne's Revenge's energy shields. The particle beam cannons the freighters carried were designed to repel pirates trying to board their ships with assault shuttles. They are no match for capital warships, even ones as old as Doc's cruiser.

  The captains of the Alliance freighters just screwed up. Doc didn't need an excuse to fire on the cargo ships, capture them, and seize their cargo. They foolishly gave him legal grounds to fire on them and take whatever he wanted. The idiots also proved that their starships are armed Alliance ships operating in Commonwealth space. Doc had all of the justification that he needed to capture them and not be declared a pirate.

  "Transmit our sensor readings and visuals to Talos station," Doc ordered Jadsia.

  "Transmitting," She replied.

  When Doc was satisfied that he had transmitted enough information to support his case for a pirate attack on his ship, he ordered the transmissions to end. Then he gave the command, "Open fire!"

  Red and blue bolts of energy from the Queen Anne's Revenge's particle beam guns and ion cannons struck the freighter's shields. Red energy bolts from the freighter's weapons continued to hit the Queen Anne's Revenge's energy shields. The guns used by the cargo ships are far too weak to penetrate the cruiser's energy shields.

  The captain's of the freighters were smart enough to concentrate their weapon fire on the bow of Doc's ship. Doc gave the freighter captains credit for coordinating their attack. They might have caused some damage if their guns were more powerful.

  The drive plume died on one of the freighters, and its weapons ceased firing. Doc's gunners concentrated their attack on the last cargo ship. Its guns stopped. Then the freighter suddenly exploded. Half of Doc's salvage is gone; consumed in a ball of plasma and hot gas.

  "Natasha, pull alongside the disabled freighter. We are taking it with us. Commence docking procedures when we are alongside it," Doc ordered. The cargo ship is too big to fit inside of the cruiser's hangar with its external cargo pods attached. Doc isn't about to let them go. Even empty, he could sell them to help make up the loss of the second freighter.

  Natasha matched the freighters course and speed. After she was in position, she extended a docking tube from our main hatch to the freighter's airlock. Later, after the cargo ship is searched, Jane could brace the freighter for towing. After getting a damage assessment from Jane, Doc would decide on whether to repair the vessel or sell it as salvage. Either way, he would profit from the freighter.

  "Open a comm channel with the freighter," Doc told his comm officer. An older man dressed in the gray uniform of the Alliance merchant service filled the viewscreen. "What in the hell is the meaning of this attack? I'll have you hanged!"

  "Captain, do I need to remind you of who fired the first shot? If you wish, I can play back the sensor footage. Your freighters attacked my ship without provocation, and I can prove it."

  "I know who and what you are. We were justified in defending ourselves," the freighter captain told Doc.

  "If you know who I am, then you also know that I have a Letter of Marque granting me hunting rights in this territory. Any merchant vessel, spaceport, or space station within 50 light years of Antares is exclusively mine. I pay enough for that exclusivity. That makes you prey as well as trespassers.

  Tell me, what percentage were you planning on paying me for the privilege of operating in my territory? You needn't bother answering. I already know the answer is none.

  This is the only warning I am going to give your crew. Any crewman who resists my boarding party or is caught with a weapon in his or her hands will be spaced." Doc terminated the call.

  Doc turned to Devon. "Have Bill and Angel suit up in power armor. Their orders are to assemble a boarding party and secure the freighter. After the ship is secure send over a scanning team to search for contraband. Have our cargo handlers record the freighters cargo manifest and verify the freighter's cargo. I also want our engineers to do a damage assessment and prepare the freighter for towing. We are going back to Talos."

  Doc left the bridge and headed to the docking tube. He wanted to be there when the crew of the freighter is brought aboard his starship. He preferred to judge the crewmen and women by his first impression, when possible. He has the time to do it now. The Queen Anne's Revenge and the Lucky Charm are locked together. The two ships wouldn't be ready for towing for, at least, a couple of days.

  Doc arrived at the airlock in time to see Bill and Angel escorting the freighter crew through the docking tube. "For the love of god! Don't bring us aboard that ship. That stench is enough to gag a maggot," one of the crewmen begged their captors.

  "We have to breathe it. Now, so do you," Angel said to the crewman.

  "What in the hell were you carrying? Jakaroot? Why didn't you take precautions and decontaminate? That smell will never go away on its own, no matter how many times you scrub the deck."

  It was one of the junior officers that made the comments, not the freighter's captain. With a little persuasion, he might part with the information Doc needed to get rid of the smell. "I would rather go out an airlock than board your ship," The freighter captain told Doc. "It smells as bad as its captain."

  Doc nodded to Bill. Bill took the freighter captain by his arm and led him back the way they came. "Where are they going?" The officer that made the comments earlier asked Captain Roberts.

  "He is being taken back aboard the freighter to its nearest airlock where he will be put outside," Doc answered the crewman. "I understand that you have some knowledge of Jakaroot and how to get rid of the smell. Tell me, or you will be living in it for a very long time," Doc warned the officer.

  The officer looked back towards the freighter and his captain's retreating back. Then he turned back to Doc and said, "Our captain is taking the easy way out. He abandoned us to our fate. I'll tell you anything that you want to know:

  Smugglers that transport Jakaroot know what precautions to take to prevent it from stinking up their whole ship. The plant secrets a fine oil that gives off the smell. Normal sanitizing procedures won't disinfect it. It spreads the oil contaminating even more of the ship. There is only one way I know of to break down the proteins in the oil. Anything contaminated will need to be scrubbed down with either tomato juice or tomato sauce. The acid in tomatoes breaks down the Jakaroot proteins on contact. We keep some aboard the Lucky Charm for that purpose."

  "Probably not enough to clean my ship," Doc commented.

  "The whole ship may not have to be cleaned. It depends on how many people went into the cargo holds and where they went afterward. Jakaroot oil glows under ultraviolet light. UV lamps can be used to detect what and where to scrub with the tomato juice. After the area is treated, it can be cleaned with normal sanitizers."

  "Angel, as soon as the freighter crew has been searched, put Mr. ..." Doc turned to t
he crewman he was speaking to. The officer said, "Harding." Doc continued, "Mr. Harding in charge of a cleaning detail. Take him back aboard the freighter to get whatever he needs. I want my ship smelling like a rose yesterday."

  Doc headed back to the bridge. His wife is there when he arrives. "I have good news," Doc told his wife. "The air will be fresher and easier to breathe in a short time. I have a crewman who knows how to neutralize the odor working on it."

  "I don't see what the big deal about the smell is," Natasha's avatar said. "After filtering out certain chemical combinations from my olfactory receptors, the remaining scents are quite pleasant."

  "Humans are incapable of filtering out the rotten Thranx egg smell in the air we are breathing," Doc said to Natasha.

  "My olfactory senses are 200 times more sensitive to odors than natural born humans, but you do not see me complaining. May I make a suggestion?"

  "If it will help with the smell, go ahead."

  "I assure you, it will. If you find the aroma unpleasant, stop breathing," Natasha told Doc. Doc laughed. Then he choked and gagged after inhaling deep lungfuls of the foul air that filled his starship. For a second he thought Natasha told a joke. Then he realized that she was serious.

  Jane's image appeared on the viewscreen in time to see and hear Doc going through another round of laughing, gagging and choking. She stared at Captain Roberts and said, "Did I miss something funny?"

  "I think Natasha unintentionally told a joke. It is not something that can be retold and appreciated. You would have had to have been here to hear it in person," Doc told Jane.