A Pirates' word

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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SIXTEEN

<”Why are you trying to restore flight power,”> Pantha asked, curious despite herself as Hastur continued to hold her down. <”She’ll never fly again.”>
“Guess,” Hastur advised her.
<”If it gets off the ground,”> Janus cut in, <”It’ll be easier for us to take the cargo hold. We’ll only need to grapple it, not use the teleporter.”>
Hastur huffed, steaming up her face plate for a few seconds. “Want to give her the codes for the vault whilst you’re at it, Jan?”
He looked at her. <”You’re not in charge of me, you know?”>
“If I were in charge of you,” Hastur responded bitterly, “I’d break you.”
<”Are you two married?”> Pantha asked. <”Can I help?”>
Hastur frowned at her. “We die, you die. Simple.”
Panthas’ helmet bobbed slightly. Hastur loosed her grip. “Reconnect power to the engines. Take it from life support.”
<”Don’t teach me how to suck eggs, pirate,”> the engineer griped, turning her attention to the problem.

Thirty minutes passed whist the team looted and gutted the ship as best they could. Savra attached teleport tags to several pieces of heavy equipment that would be worth credits, even if they were sold to the people who’d already paid for them. A salvage claim had already been put in, he hoped, by Gallen and Marran, so this was all legal...ish. It would all go through a broker. He pushed a Celican corpse off the harvester. He didn’t want that coming with it if they had to teleport it. Decomposing corpses didn’t add to ships value and made the ship smell worse that it usually did. He recalled the Raitchian saboteur who’d died in the vents a year or so back. It had been a bad few days. He had also noted, of course, that there was something missing from this ship. There were no Raitchian corpses here. Allowing for the fact they could have been blown out into space, it meant he couldn’t say for sure that the Captain was dead. So what had happened here? He wondered if the prisoner Hastur had taken would have any answers. He’d kept his helmet open slightly so he was breathing the stale air of the ship whilst still connected up to the comms. “Twenty minutes left on your air, Janus. Get ready to move out.”
<”Uh, acknowledged, Captain,”> the Swift replied. <”We may be able to get some power to the engines if… er… you help?”>
“I’m no mechanic, boy.”
<”We can, uh, tell you what to do.”>
“We,” Savra queried. “you mean the prisoner? Hastur, have you salvaged the scanners and communications technology?”
<”As much as I can, sir,”> the Dober replied.
“Then we go back to the shuttle. Now.”
<”But...”>
“NOW, Janus! Take the crewmember with you!”

Savra took the faster route back to the shuttle, turning off his gravity boots and jumping through the gash in the hull before gradually increasing the power to bring himself down heavily on the rock outside. He almost bit his tongue on impact but he was down. He signalled the ship to begin teleporting the heavy items as he looked back to see the others walking slowly across the moonscape in the growing light from the sun. Things, he figured, would get very bright soon. Best to be in the shuttle by then. Hastur, he noted, had found a case from somewhere and was dragging that with one hand whilst keeping a tight grip on her captive. Janus was strutting, even in a EVA spacesuit. The prisoner didn’t exactly look happy, judging from how she was going slower than the others. She didn’t give him a look as he opened the door to the shuttle and Hastur hustled her in. The Captain followed them and Janus was last, closing the door behind him so he could repressurise. Savra kept his helmet on after air had been introduced but had Hastur remove the captive’s helmet so he could see her jet black face. He turned his speaker on. “What happened to the ship?”
She took fresh, recycled, air in with a gulp. “You happened, you son of a b…”
“The correct term is Vixen,” he cut in. “We left you all alive and you should have been safe…”
“Well we weren’t, were we,” she spat hostility. “The people the Captain was forced to smuggle for didn’t take very kindly to your stealing it, did they? Blew us out of space before we could get away! Because of you.”
“No,” Savra growled, “because they didn’t ever intend for you to leave. They didn’t want people to know about this and the best way of that is leave no-one alive!” He had a thought. “If you had a suit, why didn’t you do repairs? Try and get the comms working again, at least?”
She slumped slightly. “because the particular stuff I needed to do it from the bridge was all in my workshop in the rear section. Charlie was back there and he kinda went off at the deep end. Started firing at me as soon as I tried to get in.”
Savra nodded. “Did the same with me. He lost his head.”
“Yes. I take it you killed him?”
“I just told you. What happened to Captain Speight?”
She looked at him angrily. “You think I know? All I know is he was on the bridge, talking to them when I was in the head. Next thing I know we’ve been fired on and he’s no-where to be found! I didn’t have time to go find him, did I?”
“Hmm. Do you have any information on who attacked you? I want them.”
She laughed bitterly. “Like I’d give you any help? You’re part of this.”
“You can either help me and get revenge on the people who killed your friends or I can leave you here,” Savra mentioned, putting his hand close to the depressurisation button. “Then I’ll go after them by myself. And tell Dastari that I’m avenging your death too.”
At that, she looked almost hopeful. “Dastari’s alive?”
The comment took Savra by surprise. So much so that he needed to open his helmet so she could see he was looking at her with distaste. “You think I’d kill Children?”
She hissed spittle into his face. “Or sell them.”
He gripped her face with his gauntleted hand. “The one and only warning,” he said quietly. “These people need dealing with and I don’t actually need you to help me, Cat. I am offering you revenge on them and the chance to leave with the boy after that. I am NOT a generous person so don’t count on me repeating the offer. You’re going to take up resources on the ship so you’re going to work for them. Then he can leave with you. You have my word on that. Unless you want to test my temper?”
“Sir,” Hastur said simply, “she can’t agree if you crush her face.”
Savra released the feline who fell to the ground, coughing through damaged teeth as she agreed and Janus took the shuttle off the surface.
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Harry Johnathan »

It's strange to me how Captain Sarva tries to have a sort of code of honor yet he's still doing terrible things. Like, his "morality code" is more like a comfort mechanism to make himself not feel so bad about being a criminal than it is anything he actually believes in.
Sarah was afraid, so she lied and said, “I did not laugh.” But [The LORD] said, “Yes, you did laugh.” - Genesis 18:15 (NIV).
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Exactly. He likes to think of himself as a bad guy, not a monster.
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I have really enjoyed reading the story so far! Hope you keep it going!
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

SEVENTEEN

“Ow,” Pantha complained as Hastur fired the tracking capsule into her neck. “What was that about?” She gave a passing glance to the two lower crewmen in the room and noted they moved their hands slightly further away from their sidearms.
“Implanted tag,” Hastur told her. “We all have them. Gives the Captain an edge as we know where people are… And he can detonate them if he needs,” she added as a warning.
“Everyone has one?” The slight alarm in Panthas’ tone warned of what she was about to ask and Hastur got in there first.
“Barnabus’ tag isn’t the explosive type,” she advised.
“Good to know,” Pantha replied sullenly. “I take it Barnabus is the Captain?” She snorted a laugh. “No wonder he prefers Savra as a name. I meant Dastari!”
“Huh,” Hastur queried, looking confused. She shook her head as realisation dawned. “Oh, no! Barnabus is Dastari!” She laughed. “When I asked him his name, he claimed it was ‘Barnabus the Brave’. Most people here choose their own name for whatever reason and he’s not minded us calling him it so he’s getting known by that name.”
“Chose it from a kid’s show,” Pantha snapped. “So, when do I get to see him?”
“When the Captain says,” Hastur informed her, standing up. “I figure he’ll first want to find out what you plan to say to Barnabus about the Lisse.”
Pantha swallowed and nodded. “Yes.” She patted the hard shelf she was sat on. “So, this is to be my room?”
Hastur nodded back at her and closed the bars of the cell. Captain was being careful. She was going to be under tight control for a while. Living in a cell under guard. Let out with an escort to do whatever work Savra or Vatrick wanted her for and searched when she was returned to her ‘room’. Captain said he’d let her go after the current danger if she wanted to go. With Barnabus. If HE wanted to go. That last, Hastur thought, was her own additional feeling. She hoped he’d stay if his parents were dead. But probably not.

The Dober entered the bridge, where the crew had begun linking up the stolen sensors and accessing the recorded log from the helm sensors. They’d been damaged in the crash but they could still ake out much of what the Lisse’s sensors had picked out about the assailants and it had Gallen gritting his metal teeth. “That, sir,” he said, pointing at the screen, “is the Rika.” He slapped his hands together. “I’d bet anything on it. I know that outline.”
Savra inclined his head. “Astar Berwick’s ship,” he queried. “You sure you’re not projecting? Berwick is Levana clan after all.”
“No, Captain, I’m not hurrying to engage them but that is Berwick’s ship.”
Savra made a decision. “Janus, take us away from here. Any direction that’s not back the way we came. We’re going to be attracting attention if we stay here much longer. Marran, when we’re not here, get me a line to Jeboah. I need to ask that scragg some questions.”

Liter strained to pick up the barrel and shifted it onto the trolley to transport it across the bay to where Vatrik wanted it kept from now on. Something about keeping the hazardous stuff away from the door where at all possible. He supposed he understood the situation. After all, they currently had them in a location where they had to carry them to the trolley, didn’t they? Something more like food packs would be better served by being in the tighter locations, he decided. Less likely to put someone’s back out too, the Cervidan decided. He’d need a massage later. Where was an Equinna when you needed one? Uh, he added mentally, for the heavy work, not the massage. Fluid might give him a working over if he asked nicely. They’d joined up together after the Captain and Gallen had freed them from slavers who weren’t part of the brigand council set up. Three or four of the ‘cargo’ had stayed aboard but it was only Fluid he had eyes for. That was why they’d paired their ‘free’ names. Together until the end. Hopefully. They’d soon have enough to make their mating official in law and, perhaps, enough to start work on a hybrid of their very own. They’d need to settle somewhere, of course, so they needed to keep on good terms with Fleetwood the Computer tech or he’d charge double for his backstopping capabilities. Liter shifted the barrel into its’ new location and took the trolley back for the last barrel. He rubbed his aching back and gripped the final container, straining to lift it and almost fell over as it gave nowhere near as much resistance as the other barrels. He put it down and sniffed. There was the acrid smell of the interior fluids on the outside of the barrel. This was a concern as he was, apparently, dealing with unstable materials that didn’t half smell of acetone. They used it to make plastics and fibres but someone had to be there every time and record the use and they’d not used any for weeks. Also why would the one in use be hidden at the back? Liter sighed and hit the button to summon Vatrick. They had twenty litres of it missing. Unless someone had ordered a half drum full and what were the odds of that?

“Are you kidding me,” the Coydog spat as he examined the half full container for himself. “Are you kidding me,” he repeated, yelling into the barrel so it echoed. “Crippa, the Captain’s going to be out for blood,” he cursed, kicking the container and hopping on his stubbed foot, “and it’s probably going to be mine!” He gestured to Liter. “Pass me that record, would you?” He gestured to the physical book on the desk and the writing implement next to it.
Liter handed them over. “You can’t be serious,” he warned.
“Can and am,” Vatrick replied, making an entry dated several days in the past. “Gives me a little time to try and locate it before I have to tell the Captain. Soon as we tell him, I’ll end up in the medical bay, he’ll rip the ship apart and whoever nicked the stuff will detonate it.” He looked upset. “It’s quite easily made into an explosive, you know?”
Liter grimaced. “I had heard.”

In Savra’s office, the Celican stared at the Mican on his screen as Jeboah watched the recording of the attack on the Lisse. <”Well, you really can’t tell who that ship is from the recording,”> Jeboah said, <”but we...”>
“Gallen says it’s the Rika,” Savra interrupted. “Berwick’s ship.”
<”He may be reaching,”> the Mican told him. <”Two of their number did attack him here yesterday morning.”>
“He mentioned it.” Savra thought on something and leaned in closer to the screen. “And YOU didn’t deny it. Do you know something?”
<”Nothing provable, Savra. But the usual contacts haven’t heard from Berwick in the last few weeks. He seems to have found a backer.”>
“Get answers from his clan and keep me in the loop.”
<”I don’t work for you, Savra!”>
“That organisation they’re keeping so quiet about,” Savra growled, “is efficient, well armed, well funded and here, Jeboah! If they’ve bought the Rika that ship has to be considered a danger to all of us!”
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Harry Johnathan »

Hastur is growing on me.
Sarah was afraid, so she lied and said, “I did not laugh.” But [The LORD] said, “Yes, you did laugh.” - Genesis 18:15 (NIV).
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

This is coming out really wonderfully and I can't say how much I enjoy it enough! Good job Welshy!
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

EIGHTEEN

With Jeboah seeking information and Janus heading towards a safe zone close to Argolla, Savra decided he needed lunch and time to think on his next moves. The Mican would get word out on the Lisse’s resting place, he knew, and the dead would be dealt with by the appropriate officials. He had, momentarily, wondered what they’d think of the headless crewman but that had passed. Pirates had shot them down and then raided them, stolen the cargo and killed everyone on board. What NOW concerned Savra was the fact that Berwicks’ ship hadn’t raided it after shooting it down. Slaughter was common out here but turning down an addition to a pay-check wasn’t. It only made sense if he was being paid more than the cargo for the captain. Or was that him hoping for Captain Speight to still be alive? He’d read the bios for that crew and he was all the boy had l…

Savra stopped himself thinking as he neared the medical bay. Virrik had called earlier, saying she might have something for him and, as it was on his way, he might as well stop in. He pressed the door comm and announced himself. After a moment, the door opened and he waved a hand to clear the off-sour smells from his nose and stepped in. The Doctor stepped over as the door closed and he noticed she was wearing a breather unit. “Ah, Captain,” she said, her voice rendered slightly tinny by the grille speaker on the face mask. “I’ve got something for you.” She stepped away from the main room and down a short passageway to her main ‘test’ room, where Yallow sat disconsolate behind a solid glass wall with a sealed door set into it. “I reached the trial stage today. Considering he got someone killed by mentioning my name, I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed him.” Savra merely grunted as he looked at the lumpy mess on the floor in front of the Canid.. “I’ve been working on the stun grenade I was developing and I came up with something pretty potent. Magnesium and Potassium Nitrate as usual but I added sulphur, a few chemicals I had around the place and a concentrated funk based on Fluids, er, fluids.” She turned to a monitor. “Watch this. Oh, uh, not the explosion of course. The rest of it’s fun though.” Savra watched the replay of her having Yallow thrown in by hands unseen and someone lobbed in the gas grenade before sealing the door. The screen blanked for the flash but came back to Yallow staggering against the effect, banging his face into the wall on several occasions, feeling the glass as he tried for the door for a moment before he could be seen retching, falling to the floor and being violently sick several times. “The smell even got out here,” she explained. “In there it was totally overpowering for at least five minutes.”
“Just like you to make a biological weapon,” Savra grumped. “Water it down a bit. If we use it, we’re going to have to breath the same air as them after a minute or so. Can’t waste time on a raid.” He opened the door and refused to retch as the enhanced stink attacked his nose. “Yallow,” he ordered, “clear out. Now.” He thumbed towards the exit and the Canine headed that way uncertainly, walking into the wall twice.
“I might have damaged his eyes,” Virrik commented. She shrugged. “Oh, well. Oh! Something else for you, Captain.” She shuffled back to her main office. “It’s about our latest two passengers…”

Savra chose to divert himself from where he’d been going after Virrik told him what she had to say and he stepped into the brig area. “I’ll speak to her alone,” he told the guard. “Get out,” he added and the Cricetian ambled out unhappily, closing the door behind himself. “Does he know,” Savra asked.
“Pity,” Pantha replied languidly, “he’s quite a good conversationalist. For a Hamster.” She looked up at the Captain. “Does who know what?”
“My Doctor has been looking at the medical reports from the implants,” Savra said, pointing to the impant location. “It’s routine. And she gets bored easily. She noted the matches in the genomes.”
Pantha deflated slightly. “A secret held for a decade,” she said simply.
“So the answer’s ‘no’,” Savra guessed. “Good job he looks totally Raitchian, hmm?” He moved sharply. “He’ll not hear it from me but why hasn’t he heard it from you?”
Pantha put her feet up on the bed. “It was easy and I was somewhat too young to do the job properly. The crew all pitched in to help raise him so I became just… ‘One of the crew’. He’s never asked me. I don’t know if he ever asked Carlton… I mean Captain Speight.”
“Like I say,” Savra said, standing up, “I won’t tell him. But you should. In the next week or so I might have to tell him his Father’s dead. Kid doesn’t need to be an orphan.” Like me, he didn’t add as he stepped out. “Send her some food,” he told the guard.

He’d stopped and paid some credits for an unusual item or two from the replication machines before he headed for the other ‘captives’ door. He pressed the button to tell the boy he was coming before putting the code in. The door opened and Savra stepped in. Dastari was lying back on his bed, his coveralls down around his waist as he watched the vid. Savra turned it off as he sat up and put his arms down the sleeves to put it back on. “Enjoying yourself,” Savra said darkly, before giving him the replicated Hamburger in bun and chips with a milkshake also present on the tray.
Dastari took it without replying, save for a ‘thank you’ and started wolfing down the burger, squirting a little red sauce onto his top to join the other stains.
“It’s not like we haven’t fed you,” Savra protested, taking up residence in the rooms’ seat.
“Burg’r’s ‘r special,” Dastari said, talking around a mouthful of replicated meat. “Only get’m in ports.”
Savra waited until he’d finished and taken several slurps of drink before he spoke again. “We found the Lisse,” he said, talking more to his clenched hands than to the boy. Dastari paused, looking concerned at the change in tone. “Another ship had shot them down onto a moon. We went down to the vessel and boarded it.” he sighed. “We found dead, Barnabus. We didn’t find your father though. I’m thinking that the ship took him before shooting the Lisse down. We’re now hunting that ship.” Noting the boys lip begin to quiver, Savra put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve not given up hope on finding your father yet, Barnabus. So nor do you, got it?” he put a finger so close to Dastari’s nose that the boy couldn’t help but play bite at it and grin as he missed with expert precision. “Got something to show you,” Savra said, standing up. He nodded towards the door and Dastari made sure his coverall was correctly zipped before stepping into his shoes and nipping into his bathroom to wash his hands.

Savra led him out, not taking his hand but making sure the boy stayed in step with him as the pair headed back to the brig area. “Unlock the cell,” he told the guard so the room was open when they stepped in and…
“DASTARI!!”
His ears pricked up as he heard the name and he looked excited as his eyes alighted on at least one of his family.
“We did find one survivor,” Savra told him.
He didn’t hear. He was already running across the room into her offered arms. “Miss Wayla,” he cried, launching himself into the hug and gripping her tightly as she laughed and swung him around, kissing his cheek. He pulled back. “It’s Barnabus now,” he told her.
She laughed. “You’ll never convince your dad,” she warned, hugging him tightly.

Sometimes, Savra thought, just sometimes, doing good can make you smile. The smile faded. They always did.
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Congratulations on making another great chapter! Wonderful work!
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

NINETEEN

Wayla Pantha wasn’t stupid and knew exactly why the Pirate had brought Dastari by for a visit. The actual, physical, warm and lumpy, confirmation that he was aboard was a direct reminder that escape was going to be harder than simply getting herself out of here. She had to take him to. She had to get to him and rescue him… from people who didn’t seem to be treating him too badly in all honesty. He’d felt just as fit as a week ago ago and smelled of Hamburgers and strawberry milkshakes and very cheap soap. There hadn’t been any new wounds on him and he’d told of how he was a bit bored of his room but liked Miss Hastur and she was nice and various other things, including protective. He’d chattered about how some of the crew were nice but some weren’t, like Mister Vatrick, who was slimy and sneery. Wonderful, she’d thought, that was the name of the so called Chief of engineering. He’d be the one she was to work for. She wondered what the regulations were on misconduct. She wondered if there WERE regulations. He’d also told her that she should never try to get hurt as – and he didn’t know why – no-one wanted to see the Doctor. After that, Savra had taken the boy away, despite his implorations. He advised him… both of them, in fact, that Pantha had work to do down in engineering.

The Coydog, Vatrick, stood back and watched as Pantha looked over the main engine core and the readings on the consoles. He cocked his head. “What do you think?”
Pantha stretched her spine theatrically, arching as she intertwined her fingers and pushed her arms to their limits as she yawned. “A Maggara IV engine with an intermix fuel supply running at eighty percent efficiency.” She worked on keeping her enthusiasm down. “I’ve worked with worse. Might be able to get it up to eighty-five percent if we adjust the flow and add a pinch of Rodon to the supply.”
“We’ve not got any,” Vatrick told her sharply. “It’s too valuable. It gets sold when we’ve taken it.”
“When you’ve killed people for it, you mean?”
“It’s a matter of survival out here,” Vatrick retorted, stepping closer. “Give it a few months. You might appreciate the power it gives you, this fear in the heart of others.”
Pantha turned around so she was face to face with him as he stepped almost face to face with her. She had a feeling it wouldn’t be smart to have her back to him. His eye portrayed him as a lascivious predator. Even this way, she was having to lean back against the console. Even her guard looked a little perturbed… “I don’t plan to be here that, uh, long.”
Vatrick put a hand down to her side, resting it on the console. He was practically mouth to mouth now. “No-one ever plans on staying long,” he told her.
Pantha looked behind him, where the guard was indicating his left leg. His left leg? Why was he..? OH. Pantha worked it out and brought her knee straight into Vatrick’s groin, doubling him up before she punched him in the nose. He lurched backwards as the guard gave a ‘thumbs up’, gestured for her to talk and moved forward to pick up Vatrick.
“Never get that close without my permission, ‘sir!’,” she spat at the Coydog. “I will work to fix your engines and keep the ship running whilst I’m here but that never means I’m open for the attentions of your other ‘engine’. Get me?”
The guard took Vatrick’s arm as he pulled it back to return her punch. “Didn’t see what ‘app’n’d t’you,” he lied, “but cap’n’ll do you if’n y’ try anythin’, sir, y’know tha’!” Vatrick thought of it, sniffed his own blood back up his nostrils and stormed off to get the medicl kit.
“Thanks, Chittrick,” Pantha said to her Cricetian guard.
“Tol’ ya we’re not all monst’rs,” he replied. “Poss’bly ‘alf’ve us. He might r’sp’ct y’ now.”
Pantha sighed. “I’m going to have to repair that translator of yours sooner, rather than later, aren’t I?”

“You can do that,” a voice asked from the door. It took her by surprise as she’d not known a Celican who could sneak up on her before. She jumped but covered it by landing in Gallen’s general direction.
“Yeah,” she replied. “Takes a few tweaks in a scanning system to set it in ‘reboot’ mode. Did it a couple years back when Medway’s…” She cut herself off with the thought of her now dead friend. “On the Lisse.”
The Celican stepped closer, letting her get a glint of his metal teeth. “Get it done,” he commanded. “I’m sick of working out what he says anytime we talk.”
“’N ‘e’s smart ‘nuugh t’ work out wh’t ‘m sayin’ too,” Chittrick mentioned, earning himself a glare from the Celica.
“See you’ve met your chief,” the Celican continued. “He’s doing badly recently. Barnabus bit him.” He stayed a step or two away from her, just out of swipe range. She examined the faint scars still visible on his muscled chest and wondered ho many times he’d had broken bones over his years. The tail seemed a touch unkempt for a Celican but he had a more than impressive physicality that was only exemplified by the fact he wasn’t wearing a shirt right now. Was he showing off? Was he just proud of his physique, like most Celicans? Was she supposed to be saying something? Why was Chittrick facepalming and what was her hand doing on his chest?
He smiled as she jerked the hand back.
“Um, yeah. He, uh, totally got too close.” She swallowed. “Uninvited,” she added, before screwing her eyes shut and wishing the floor would swallow her whole.
“I’ll have to remember that,” Gallen told her plainly. “And you’ll have to remember that, next time, you may have to back up the initial hit. The first strike is rarely the last, no matter what the vids tell you.”
“I’m not allowed weapons,” she told him.
“Decades as the engineer on a freighter, claws hidden in your fingers and you don’t know how to fight hand to hand,” Gallen asked casually. “somehow I doubt that. Just… avoid fights with the crew if you can. We have enough troubles with everyone else trying to kill us.”
“Right. Excuse me?”
“What?”
“Who are you, please?”
“Try not to use ‘please’ around here. It irritates. I’m Gallen. You might call me the First.”
“Wayla,” she replied, putting out a hand. He took it, knowing she could put her claws into his hand from here. “Were you looking for me?”
“We have a lead on the ship that killed yours,” he told her. “We think it’ll take us two days to find her.” He pulled her in a little closer. “Stay alive until then, hmm?” The light glinted off his teeth as he smiled.
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

You really create lovely stories and great characters! Impeccable work!
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Who says Savra can't show a nice side? It comes in useful at times.

TWENTY

“Where are we?”
“Sokova,” Savra replied, looking out at the different stars of the day. “A Canid colonial system. Two Celican worlds, one Canine and one joined.” He sat back in his chair for once. “They make a lot of high end materials here. The Canine government made it financially profitable to set up shop here.”
“Huh,” Dastari asked, confusion on his face.
“The government threw cash at them to set up here. Made it very cheap for them so they could set up here.”
“Why?”
Savra wondered how to explain this. “They set up business here. The materials are for colony worlds so it’s cheaper to make things here and ship them out. Colonies, on the other hand, like money. The more they have, the more money they make. If I were to give you money, what would you do?”
“Spend it,” Dastari said quickly.
Savra put a hand out towards him. “Exactly. The company brings people in and has to pay them. They need to buy things so they use the local stores. You, as a company employee, would take the money they give you and buy something a merchant has. That’s how they make money. And you pay a bit more for the item than they do. Because they bought it off a producer who pays less to make the item because they’re making thousands of them to be sold in many shops. And they all pay something called Taxes, which go to the local government to provide services. Security, healthcare, roads, stuff like that.”
“But we don’t pay taxes?”
Savra tapped Dastari’s nose. “YOU don’t pay taxes because you’re a child. Privateers don’t pay taxes to governments. So we don’t get those securities.”
“Oh. Um,” Dastari asked, leaning on the Captain’s chair. “I think I meant WHY are we where we are?”
“Well, figured you’d want to visit the bridge at some point so it might as well be now. What we’re actually doing here is lying in wait.”
Dastari’s ears pricked up. He suddenly looked a little scared. “F..for what?”
Savra patted his arm. “The ship that shot the Lisse down. Got a contact says it’s operating in this area. So we’re watching for them and not sending out our location signal. We know a juicy transport ship will be coming by here with a small escort later on. The Captain probably won’t be able to resist it.”
“The escort would shoot them down,” Dastari asked hopefully.
“Possibly. Possibly not if he’s launched fighters to engage them. Then he’ll be able to overpower them and destroy them. Then he’ll hit the freighter.”
Dastari sighed. “People gonna die.”
“That’s the life out here, boy. My word. My ship. Myself. My crew. That’s what matters in our situation.” He poked Dastari in the chest, atop his heart. “A mantra you should learn whilst you’re here. Might serve you well.”
“Serves me well,” Janus said from the helm, where he’d gotten bored of just sitting there.
“Mind on the job, Janus,” Savra warned, “Berwick’s not getting past without damage to you, got it?”
“Got it,” the swift said, imagining the Captain’s hand straying towards his whip.
“Mister Berwick,” Dastari asked. “Dad’s worked for him before. I’ve heard him say the name a few times.” Dastari scowled. “He’s never said it nicely. I think Mister Berwick has something captive.” He straightened up with enthusiasm. “Perhaps it’s my mom!?”
So many ways to answer that, Savra thought. None of which were any real use right now. He’d heard freighter Captains strike that sort of deal with Privateers before, taking cargo close to where they were going anyhow. Unannounced cargo with holds half full according to the official docket quite often made the ship unappealing to brigands and the USC had too few ships out here to inspect more than a comparative handful. In fact the only reason Savra had raided the ship in the first place was simple suspicion and the fact he was in the area anyway. “It’s possible,” he allowed. “So, what did your father have you doing most days anyhow?”
“Learning,” Dastari replied. “Occasionally I’d be allowed on the comm. I have good ears.”
“Figured that. Marran,” he called, not making her wince as she was already wincing on the expectation of being called, “you’ve got an apprentice. Train him up on monitoring the internal comms, would you? Not ship to ship.”
“Sir,” she replied, heart sinking.

Vatrick hauled himself through the conduits in a little bit of a hurry. He’d made claim and entered records that he had a little work to do on the wiring in here to make sure the power supply kept running to the fighter bays and the mess but, in reality, he was more interested in seeing if he could pick up any scents or biological traces from the cargo bays. He was in trouble if the theft was made public knowledge as he was, ostensibly, supposed to be in charge down there. He’d scanned with the bio scanner to pick up any logged genetic traces and he’d picked up several of interest but couldn’t tell who they were until he got them back to a main computer as all the metal in the tight passages tended to blot out the signal. He wondered if Council Engineers had the same problems but decided not as they had more up to date scanners and more powerful wireless systems. Still, the thoughts kept his mind of his injured snout and, indeed, his family jewels and he spent a few seconds contemplating revenge against that Feline b*tch when he got the chance and, possibly, a garotte. As it was, though, she was sealed in a cell when not working and had a guard on her that would have to be dealt with first. He spared a thought for how this would be much easier if he had access to the tracking systems but only the Captain and Gallen had access to that system and, until he knew Gallen wasn’t part of the theft ring, he didn’t want to involve anyone who could snap his spine like a twig. So he kept looking, pausing only for a moment to watch someone doing callisthenics in their room from a vent.

“Marran,” Savra said sharply as she showed Dastari some of the more intricate workings of the internal communications system, “show Barnabus how to activate the yellow alert system.” Dastari glanced around. He could see the image of a trio of ships on the screen, one large one being escorted before the Mican swatted him for his attention and told him which icon to press to sound the alert.
“The sprat,” Savra said, “is in place as the Humans say. Now, where’s the Mackerel?”
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Good that he keeps his nice side close to his chest. That way people will be caught off-guard when he reveals it.
Last edited by Amazee Dayzee on Sat Dec 11, 2021 12:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

His. Savra's a guy.
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Ooops. I was thinking about Hastur for some reason when I wrote that. Just fixed it. :oops:
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

TWENTY-ONE

Dastari watched the slow moving ships on the screen and wondered why the Captain was tensing and untensing visibly, running his tongue over his teeth expectantly as nothing seemed to be happening. For a moment he thought the ships on screen looked a little like travelling fowl but he considered that silly. He still wondered about his dad and what he’d think of him being on the bridge of a pirate… privateer ship and not being afraid but excited? It was confusing and oddly boring as he waited with the people who’d kidnapped him waited for the people who’d kidnapped his father and violence threatened. He swallowed his nerves and waited, trying to control his tremble as he saw Hastur smile encouragingly at him. He smiled back shakily as Marran patted his hand. “Concentrate on the job, Barnabus,” the Mican said quietly. “It helps. Trust me.” He nodded, listening to the communications between crew in other rooms. He couldn’t tell what they were saying to each other, of course, but, if they were using comms, he could hear them. His crafty ear could make out words and phrases. He’d looked at Marran for confirmation and she’d whispered to him that the Captain and the First knew all about it. They needed to know if anyone was working against them. Dastari had practically puffed with pride as she told him it meant he was very trusted by the Captain.

But nothing was happening and Savra was getting irritated. “Where is the b*stard,” he asked tetchily, more to his hand than to Gallen.
“Could be he’s twigged, Captain,” the first replied. “Berwick’s quite a canny one. He’d act on the slightest hint that the Clan wanted a word with him. He could be keeping his head down.”
“Hmm,” Savra muttered, “I hope not. Setting things up so we take the blame for his actions? I want a word with him…”
“Might get a chance soon,” Janus said, his sharp eyes picking something out on the screen. “A ship’s just popped in a few million kilometres out, sir. No transponder but I saw the flash of lights.”
“Hold on scanners,” Savra ordered. “Passive only. We’ll soon see if it’s Berwick, Gallen. Kurmak, tell me if their power output trail matches the recordings the freighter made.”
Gallen changed the viewscreen view to zoom in on the area Janus had talked of. There she was, a pale vulture against the void. And she was launching her attack fighters. The escorts wouldn’t have much time to react after they were sighted and he’d be blanketing communications and firing on the freighters engines to stop them escaping. It was what Savra would do. “Gallen to Sandford,” he said after tapping his comm. Marran kept her hand on Dastari’s shoulder so he didn’t express the surprise of hearing it in stereo. “Get fighters ready to launch. Your targets will be the other ships’ fighters. You’ll be following us in but they’ll be distorting comms.”
Dastari heard the other person reply that he was willing and able. The boy could hear he had a lisp. Probably meant he was Human. Or Osiran. Of someone had broken his teeth. It didn’t really narrow it down, now he thought of it. He noted that the ship wasn’t moving to intercept. “Aren’t we gonna help the escort,” he asked quietly.
Marran nearly coughed with surprise. “Why’d we do that,” she whispered back urgently. “They’ll open fire on us too, soon as they see us! Then Berwick’ll leave his fighters and run. We’d end up fighting the clippers and his fighters. He kills ‘em and reloads his fighters, THEN we hit ‘em. Less risk.”
“But… they’ll die...”
“They’ve got life insurance,” Merran said, in a tone that indicated that here was where that conversation ended. She went back to listening in for any communications between the ships.

They watched the fight begin, Berwicks’ fighters swarming onto the escorts as they raised their shield systems. Tiny sparks of energy lit the dark for split seconds as the Kerbal began its slow, lumbering, walk towards the situation. Fighters burst open, spitting machinery and pilots into the cold as the shields began to suffer under the onslaught. The larger ship, the Rika, slid quietly forward, ignoring the plight of its own fighters, to get into a firing position on the freighter as the escorts fired desperately on her. Savra was almost impressed by the fight the escorts were putting up. He decided he might even see if any survived at the end of this, provided things went well with Berwick. He watched the Rika fire, her main cannons overwhelming the shields on the freighter with their power as the first escort died. The second hung limp in space as the fighters tore into her engines and weapons. “That’ll do,” Savra announced. “Power us up, full power to shields and weapons and move us in for the kill. Target the Rika and fire as soon as you can, Hastur.”
“Aye, Cap’n,” the Dober replied. “Targets?”
“Engines first,” Savra advised. “Scrag her weapons after. Boy,” he called.
Merran tapped Dastari on the shoulder to tell him the Captain had spoken to him. “Huh?”
“The reply,” Savra told him sharply, “is ‘yes, sir!’”
“Y...yes, sir?”
“If you want to sit this out with Miss Pantha, I’m not going to stop you.”
Merran indicated he should go. He stood up and headed for the exit.
“Boy!”
“Y...Yes, sir,” Dastari trembled, wondering what he’d done wrong.
“The answer in an order or suggestion from a senior officer is ‘aye, sir’. Got it?”
“A..Aye, sir,” Dastari replied, before running down the passage.

He could only imagine what was going on on board the Rika right now, as the Kerbal suddenly appeared on screens, bearing down like the predator he was, fighters fanning out behind her like so many teeth when their own had already been blunted by the resilience of the escort. He imagined Berwick’s little face dropping in shock and surprise before the Mican tried to grit it in anger and anticipation. “Your own fault, Berwick,” Gallen told himself happily. “You made yourself prey.” He grinned, his teeth sparking as they moved. “Knock, knock, you little ar*e...”
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Harry Johnathan »

"Pale Vulture Against the Void" would make a great band name...
Sarah was afraid, so she lied and said, “I did not laugh.” But [The LORD] said, “Yes, you did laugh.” - Genesis 18:15 (NIV).
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

You know when you are cursed at you are really gonna get it! Hope that Berwick can take it.
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

TWENTY-TWO

Hastur licked her thin lips as she felt the familiar, gut churning, thrill of action when she pressed the firing button to lance death at the Rika without warning. She heard Merran say something about the Rika hailing them but she knew the Captain wasn’t much in the mood for words. She wasn’t worried about him answering. The Rika had struck at a target others knew had been allocated to the Kerbal by the Council and they’d broken the code. They’d destroyed the ship, attempted to kill the entire crew, kidnapped the Captain – possibly – for some reason and had, according to Jeboah, had stopped answering to their clan leaders. They’d broken the code. She fired again as the other ship put their shields back up. Her shots sparked orange against the energy barrier. She fired again as they tried to move to fire back.
“Evasion pattern Kaltarra, Janus. Keep us on their engines as best you can.”
“Got it, Cap’n,” the Swift replied, inputting the new instructions.

“They let you on the bridge,” Pantha asked Dastari, genuinely interested despite herself. She blamed the engineer in her as she talked with her secret son. “What was it like?”
Dastari shrugged as he replied. “Lots of consoles. Some as good as ours, Miss Pantha. Some worse. Some needing repairs.”
“Huh,” she wondered. “Maybe I’ll be allowed up to get a look at them sooner or later.”
Dastari chuckled slightly and grinned. “Don’t think they’ll let you take over, Miss Pantha!”
She smiled back. “Totally wasn’t thinking about that, Dastari,” she sort of fibbed. “Or are you preferring ‘Barnabus’ now?”
“Dastari sounds like Dastardly,” he explained. “Hard to be trusted if you’re called dastardly!”
“Suppose…” She tried to reach to him through the bars as the ship shook. She looked almost as worried as he did. But, then, she knew weapon strike when she heard it. “I wonder who we… they’re fighting,” she asked rhetorically.
Dastari, not knowing what ‘rhetorical’ meant, answered. “It’s Mister Berwick’s ship,” he enthused as Pantha felt the thrumm of the ships’ own energy cannons retort. “Mister Savra wants to talk with him about where my dad is and if he’s got my mother hostage, which is why dad used to work for him.” he looked pensive for a moment, missing the shocked and forlorn look on Pantha’s face. “I think the crew’s looking forward to the fight. When I was dealing with internal communications I heard one talking of how the Captain’s going to get a big blast out of this… Oh, uh, Miss Merran said I shouldn’t tell anyone I can hear all internal communications so, um, you didn’t hear me say it?” He smiled in hopeless optimism.
Pantha looked sadly at him as she sat on the bunk. The ship shook again. “Das… Barnabus,” she said slowly. “There’s something I should tell…” Her brain caught up with what her companion had just been saying. “What did you just say?”
“I, uh, didn’t say anything,” Dastari bluffed.
“About ‘getting a blast out of this?” She frowned. “That’s an odd way to phrase things, isn’t it? Perhaps you should have told him about it?”
“They said it would be a surprise and…”
Pantha almost leapt at the bars, gripping them tight. “Chittrick! Chit…” She staggered as the room shook and she yelled again. “Chittrick! I need you!”
The Cricetian raced in. “Wha’s’up?”
“Chittrick,” Pantha gasped. “Barnaby needs to talk to the Captain! It’s urgent,” she said, hoping the fear in her eyes was selling the truth.
“It’s’ab’t b’sy at t’e mom’nt,” the guard replied, staggering under an impact.
“It’ll get a lot busier if you don’t call him,” Pantha replied, holding onto the bars to stop from being knocked to the floor as Dastari gripped onto bars on the other side of the room. He didn’t have a clue what Miss Pantha was so agitated about but he could see she was scared. “Das...Barnabus overheard someone talking about a…” she looked to the boy, then back at Chittrick. She swallowed. “Someone talking about a bomb on board,” she finished.
Dastari’s eyes opened wide as he realised he’d been stupid and silly and dim and… he wanted to wet himself but forced himself not to. Miss Pantha and Miss Hastur would be ashamed of him.
“Is t’is tru’,” Chittrick asked urgently.
Dastari looked at him curiously. “What?”
Chittrick looked despairingly at Pantha. “He asked if that was true, Barnabus,” she ‘translated’.
“Oh, um, yes. I heard it… and I can’t tell you how.”
“Y’ ‘eard it on th’ com’s.” He smiled. “M’mate Merr’n c’ll’d.” He knelt by Dastari as Pantha translated what he’d said.
“Y’saw wh’re the call ca’e fro’?”
This time Dastari worked it out for himself. “I, er, think it was from the hydro ponies room?”
“Hydroponics,” Pantha guessed. “Do you HAVE one of those?”
Chittrick threw a commlink through the bars to Pantha and took off without a word. She took the hint and called the bridge.
<”Bit busy up here, Prisoner,”> Merran remarked. <”How did you get this link?”>
“Your mate Chittrick gave it me after Da...Barnabus told him what he’d heard when on the comms.”
<”That being what,”> she heard Merran seethe.
“That there may be a bomb in the hydroponics room.”
Now she heard Merran swear as the ship shook.

“Gallen,” Savra shouted as a console to the port side overloaded and exploded, “go help Chittrick out!”
“Aye, Cap’n,” the big Celican replied, levering himself out of his chair and heading out as Hastur fired again.
“The Rika’s been upgraded,” Kurmak opined, hanging on to the console. “Higher yield energy weapons and improved shields.”
“Then find their weak spot!”
“Looking, sir… Incoming teleport!”
Savra looked around as figures appeared on the bridge. His hand went automatically to the electrowhip at his hip and it lashed out before the teleport was complete, enabling it to pass through the incoming figure and rip it to shreds as he pulled it back. The first figure dropped dead from the assault as Hastur shot the second dead, one handed, without even moving from her console. The third was tackled by Merran as he was too close to her station. The figure brought a knife down into her back before Kurmak had a chance to shuck his claws and flay the throat of the assailant. “Keep firing,” Savra ordered, taking over internal comms to send a message. “Savra to all hands, watch out for boarding parties!” He hit a private line. “Medical to the bridge.”
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

This chapter was amazing as always! Good job!
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

In this episode... Guess what? Violence!

TWENTY-THREE

Pantha looked urgently to Dastari as the warning came across the comm system. She was behind a sealed row of bars and didn’t think this was the best place to receive ‘guests’ who might try to kill her… for the second time this week. “Das… whatever, go check the desks in the office! I need out of here!”
Dastari looked at her quizzically for a second before he decided it didn’t really matter that she didn’t know what to call him. He headed for the door quickly, only to stop himself by the door. “What am I looking for,” he asked.
“Keys! Or some way to unlock this.” She gestured to the lock. It had both codepad and key component and she’d seen the like before after a quite riotous night on Caldera had seen her in the sheriff’s cells. The codelock could unlock the door but the key was preferable, due to it being a six digit code that not everyone knew. The thought of being unable to fight – and so vulnerable to – the scum who’d killed her friends and family was turning her stomach. She’d have to fight them. She NEEDED to fight them and make them bleed for what they’d done. This crew, she decided, could bleed later.

Dastari looked around the small, shambolic, room and wondered where he’d be if he was a key. In the worm riddled wood desk… sorry, the wood effect plastic desk with drilled holes for the worm effect… or the file cabinet that was pinioned to the wall? He decided to try the desk first and picked the lock on the first drawer with a couple of small, thin, pieces of metal he’d found on the tabletop. His dad had taught him how to do that after having to extricate a platinum bar from the desk of a trader who’d failed to pay for cargo. He retrieved a small personal padd with some pictures he definitely shouldn’t be looking at, he reasoned. After a few seconds, with the ship shaking again and with the sounds of weapons fire elsewhere in the ship, he stopped looking at the padd and rifled the rest of the drawer. Nope, he thought, nothing. He closed the drawer and tried the next one. He wondered if the credit chit thing should be in here. And why one corner looked like a trigger. He liked it so he pocketed it and looked on.

“Don’t bother, kid,” a harsh voice told him from the door. Dastari looked up. This wasn’t one of the people he’d met on this ship. And the gun didn’t look friendly, especially as it was pointing at him. The Canine stepped over, grabbed him by the throat, lifted him into the air and carried the struggling boy into the cell area. He turned and smirked at Pantha before throwing Dastari across the room to smack into the bars across from her. “Hello, Pantha,” he goaded. “What a shame to find you here, helpless…”
“’N’ pr’tct’d,” Chittrick said from the door, a few seconds after a red hole had cut its way through the torso of the canine. He had time to look at the hole in his chest from the beam before he dropped to his knees and didn’t feel the hard floor smash his teeth. “Di’n’t make ‘t t’ th’ bay,” he told Pantha. She glanced at the credit energy pistol that had slipped from Dastari’s pocket as he’d hit the bars. She dove for it as Chittrick died, a pulse of energy striking him through the head as someone in the hallway ran through. Her hand grasped the single use weapon and she prayed it was still loaded as she aimed as best she could and fired. The weapon launched its’ single beam, clipping the Coydog in the shoulder and making him spin, twisting his shot away from her and Dastari and into the wall. He aimed again.

This time, his interruption was more physical as Gallen charged him from behind, pushing him further into the room and gripping his gun arm with one of his strong hands as his other took the Canid around the throat, his claws cutting the flesh as Gallen held on, despite taking several elbows to the ribs. “I’d say you could take a message to Berwick, Cordal,” he hissed into the targets’ ear, “but you’re going to be too dead to deliver.” He opened his mouth and drove his metal teeth into the back of the Coys’ neck, The attacker panicked as he felt the steel worry at the top of his spine and struggled, trying to twist out of the tight grip. A shot from his gun nicked one of Gallens’ ears but the hands held firm and, with a crunch that made Pantha quite happy ‘Barnabus’ was only just coming around, he died. Gallen released the dead assailant and he dropped to the ground before the Celican spat his missing fur and blood back onto his face. “Never know where they’ve been,” he grunted before kneeling by Chittrick’s corpse. He looked through the pockets and took the keys for the lock before stepping over to help Dastari up. “You OK,” the blood splashed senior asked.
Dastari couldn’t take his eyes off the wet mouth and felt like he had a small egg on the back of his head but nodded. “I, uh, think so.”
“Good.” He moved to unlock the gate and Pantha pushed him aside to wrap Dastari in the tightest of hugs.
“Miss Pantha,” Dastari ‘protested’ as she kissed his head and checked the back of his neck and cranium, “not when Mister Gallen’s watching!”
Gallen kept watch on the hallway as he knelt by Chittrick’s body again. “I was headed for the hydroponics room,” he explained, “to look for the bomb. Got distracted by the sounds here.” He picked up Chittrick’s gun and passed it to Pantha. “Probably best you take it. Need you to come with me. Not like I know what to do with a bomb.”
“If you think I’m leaving Dastari…”
Gallen tensed. “In lieu of good ideas – as leaving him here isn’t one – we’ll have to take him with us. Where we can protect him,” he added before Pantha could protest. “You do EVERYTHING we say, right,” he added, pointing to the boy.
Dastari, for his part, was halfway between being brave and not being stupid enough to argue with a blood coloured Celican whilst pools of red were covering the floor, agreed and Pantha took his hand and followed Gallen quickly. His enemy, for now, was her enemy.

“I’ll get her down to the medical bay,” the orderly called as he finished doing what little stabilization work on Merran he knew how to do. She was still alive somehow, and he wasn’t going to try taking the knife out. He’d leave that for Virrik. She’d like that. A new one for her collection.
“Get on with it,” Savra snapped as the orderly got Merran onto the hoverboard that he could push. It stayed stable as the ship suddered.
“Their shields have fallen in sector twelve,” Kurmak called.
“Hastur,” Savra called.
“On it,” Hastur replied, adjusting her aim to fire before they adjusted the shields. Her shots punched straight through the hull and it wasn’t just metal debris that ‘flowed’ out. She gritted her teeth and fired again.
“Still got fights going on in engineering and down by the bar,” Kurmak advised.
“If they’re attacking the bar, gods help them,” Savra growled. “Coz I won’t. Get more people to Engineering.”
“On it. Shields at fifteen, by the way. Damage through half the ship.”
“They’re dying first,” Janus warned as he angled the ship to protect the most damaged area from their fire as best he could.

Hastur’s shots continued to pummel the Rika.
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Violence is always fun and enjoyable to behold when its not happening to you! Just like getting a pie in the face. :mrgreen:
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

I'd never dare 'pie' Savra...
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I would only pie the guy in your avatar and thats because its funny seeing a captain humiliated like that. :P
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

TWENTY-FOUR

Gallen led the pair in a swift movement through the ship, leading them away from any landing teams and firefights as they went. He held them back and joined in as Liter tangled with an assailant. As the Cervidian thrust the Raitchian back, away from himself, Gallen chose to lighten his load with a shot through the side of the Raitchians’ head as Pantha covered Dastari’s eyes. “Thanks, <huff> boss,” Liter gasped.
“Privateers don’t say thanks,” Dastari muttered under his breath.
“Are there… many others,” Liter asked.
“Several small groups throughout the ship, Crewman,” Gallen replied. “But we’re heading to Hydroponics on a bomb search.”
“A bomb,” Liter gasped, thinking of the missing Quantillia from the cargo bay.
“Yes. Don’t…” He staggered as the ship rocked heavily. “Don’t worry, though,” he argued as Pantha helped Dastari back up, “we’re going to find them first.”
“It, uh,” Liter said, wondering how much trouble he was about to be in. “It could be Lateririan discs.”
Gallen looked at him sternly. “Why do you say that?”
“Because, like, uh, I told Vatrick, we’re missing several litres of Quantilla.” The Cervidian gave a hopeful, watery, smile as Gallen almost pinned him to the wall.
“When did you tell him this,” the Celican breathed.
“Y...Y...Yesterday.”
Gallen’s reply was lost as Pantha shot someone about to shoot him. He let the Cervidan go and looked at the smoking corpse as cooking flesh scents filled his nasal passages, making him hungry. “Makes us even, I think,” he told Pantha, deciding to flay Vatrick alive later. “Fight or come with us, Liter. Decide now.”
Liter decided to find Fluid.

Merran lay flat on Virrik’s table and the Brockian started by running scans on the knife to see if she needed to account for any toxins. She was quite impressed by the intricate designof the handle, made to represent a Dragonic head, but she really wasn’t fond of the sheath it had chosen. It bled too much, leading to staining of the blade so she had to get it out. And save the sheath, of course. With bloods set up and the five year out of date computers keeping an eye on things - and Merran out of things – Virrik started work, gently prising the blade out of the Micans’ back. She worked to seal and reconnect cut veins, capillaries and tissue as best she could. She gave Merran a sixty percent chance of survival and, frankly, a thirty percent chance of full mobility any time soon.

“Sir,” Hastur asked casually as things fell off the Rika’s hull under her fire.
“What, Hastur,” Savra snapped grumpily.
“If we want to ask them questions we’ll need them alive, I think.”
Savra mulled that for a moment. “Hold on firing,” he ordered before going to Merran’s station and picking up her headphones. He extended the restraints so it fitted and put them on. He flicked a few switches. “Savra to Rika. Want us to kill you? Keep fighting. Want to live? You have five seconds to surrender.” He listened. “Stand by to be boarded,” he added before closing the line. “Kurmak, get a list of everything we’ve got that’s damaged. Then, as a gesture of goodwill, send a life support generator over to those clippers if they’ve anyone alive in them. Add those to the list too. Other than that, you’re in charge.” Then he strode towards his office to pull on his protective suit. He wasn’t trusting Berwick further than he could throw him. “Savra to Malvey, Seena and Rawton. If you’re still alive, head for the shuttle bay. We’re going aboard the Rika.”

The Lappinean looked up from the middle of his latest victim and smirked at the shocked, lifeless, Celican wrapped around the foot he’d implanted in him to drive the knife home. “Time for me to hop it, I suppose,” he ventured, schlupping his boot out of the mighty wound. He turned the corpse over to regain his knife, which had been pushed right through. Pulling a handkerchief from a pocket, he cleaned up the blade and handle before putting it back in its’ sheath and heading down towards the bay in quite a happy mood, despite the claw marks across his upper chest. He whistled to himself as he bounced quickly, hoping for more victims.

Gallen opened the door to the hydroponics room and Dastari breathed in the scents of plantlife and soil that he’d mostly experienced on the scant few trips to the surface of worlds. Dirt smelled unpleasant to him, all… loamy and claggy and… Whoa, he told himself, these were a lot of green… things. Plants, mostly. “Uh, sir,” he asked hesitantly, “what are we looking for?”
Gallen used his hands to indicate something roughly circular and ten centimetres in diameter. “ Lateririan discs are roughly like this,” he said. “Size of a side plate. Quadrillia works as both casing and explosive you see? Depending on how they’re formulated. They’re about six inches tall.”
Dastari looked around the reasonably large room, full of pots and plants and heat lamps. “Um..,” he began to say.
“By looking, Barnabus,” Pantha told him, not even registering that she’d used his new name, rather than the one he’d had all his life. “We’ll start over by the Carrots,” she added, gesturing to green, sprouty things that looked NOTHING like the Orange and purple things he knew. He checked low and Pantha looked high. Her suggestion. “Other way around would be silly,” she told him, trying to make him smile.
It almost worked but, even being brave, he didn’t think this was a time for smiles. “Where’s the garden person,” he asked, noting that they were the only ones in there. “Doesn’t this normally take a person?”
“Killed in a fight three weeks back,” Gallen called from the other side of the room. “Needs replacing. Someone comes in and checks every evening though. Don’t worry about it, though,” he added. “Killer got his. Captain threw him out an airlock.”
“Nice system of justice.”
“It works, Miss Pantha,” Gallen declared. “Fighting your crewmate gets the brig. Killing them gets the chop. Best way to keep discipline on a ship full of b*stards.”
“I imagine,” Pantha declared, “that few dare to disagree.”
“Nope,” Gallen replied, upending a row of vegetables to look underneath. Nothing.
“Uh,” Dastari said, kneeling down and looking under one of the shelves, “found one. Um, you know you said it was, uh, side plate size?”
“Yeah,” Gallen said, hurrying over as Pantha knelt to examine what Dastari had seen.
“Big side plate,” Dastari said, looking at something more the size of a serving dish...
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Really awesome work once again! I am at the edge of my seat!
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

TWENTY-FIVE

“Can you defuse it,” Gallen asked as he looked from an odd angle at the device stuck to the underside of the metal shelf.
“Can I what,” Pantha retorted. “I’m an engineer, not a bomb tech! Can’t you..?”
Gallen snorted a laugh. “I’m more of an everyman. I’d blow us up.”
“C...Can’t we run away,” Dastari put in.
“Not from one this size, Barnabus,” Gallen admitted. “It’d take out half the deck and blow out life support.”
“Makes you wonder why someone would plant something likely to kill them,” Pantha wondered.
“Oh, likely money or ransom,” Gallen cursed. “And it’s a swine to move! The fighter bay’s two doors down! We could eject it into space there if we could get it there…” His ears pricked up. “Barnabus, fetch that trolley over there,” he pointed to a long flatbed truck on the far side of the room.
“You note the thing’s blowing in ten minutes anyhow,” Pantha muttered as soon as she figured Dastari was far enough away.
“Yeah, so work quick,” he advised, indicating her weapon. “I’ve seen Vatrick adjust the output of one of those to…”
Pantha smiled and interrupted him. “To form a cutting beam! So I take out the stantions and we put the whole section of shelf on the trolley. Brilliant. Can you keep it steady?”
“We’ll see,” he replied as she started work.

Rawton was ready to be the first out as the Kerbal’s shuttle docked with the Rika but Savra put a hand out to stop the Lappinean. “Test number one,” he advised, holding up a slim grenade. “Masks on.” The group assented and Savra tossed the device out as the door opened. They heard the crack, felt the blast and, to a much lesser degree than anyone in the Rika’s passageway, actually smelled the smell. Savra indicated that they should head in now and led the way. He’d temporarily lost the benefits of his nasal senses but at least they weren’t being overwhelmed like the others here. Berwick had indeed plotted a warm welcome and Savra took it out on the five crew ahead of him, his laser whip blinding one in both eyes with a snap across the face before he wrapped it around anothers’ neck and pulled her forward, onto the ground. He stamped on her neck as Rawton leapt forward, knife drawn. Seena and Malvey considered themselves content to watch the better fighters murder their way into the ship, although they had weapons drawn. Just in case. “Seena,” Savra grunted, waving at a wall comm unit, “can you connect me the main comm from here?”
She scooted over to take a look. “No, sir,” she reported, “they have lock outs.”
Savra growled her away from the comm and punched it. “Savra to the bridge. Trying to kill me doesn’t seem like surrender! I’m here to speak with Berwick and that’s all. This is your only warning. I am NOT in the mood today!” He thumped the panel again to end the chat. “Rawton, take point. Get us to the bridge. Malvey, watch our rear.”
The Lappinean happily led the way.

Pantha cut the last piece of metal and Gallen swore as the full weight of the shelf and attached bomb almost took his arms out at the shoulders. But he’d managed to hold it steady and was thankful the ship had stopped exploding and rocking around him. Pantha put the gun aside and helped him carry the metal over to the trolley. It seemed just long enough to take the shelf but the hover motor was glitchy to her eye. She resolved she’d have to fix it later as they turned the shelf over so the bomb was on top. The trolley motor raised a pitch and Gallen took hold of the handles to push it towards the door. Dastari opened the door and followed on as, if people were fighting, he wanted to be with people he liked with guns. Pantha added her strength to the effort as they went. Two minutes passed before they got to the anteroom door. “Pantha,” Gallen gasped, “I need you two in there. Go to the console. When I get the thing in place and leg it out the room, press ‘decompress’.”
“Right,” Pantha decided, taking Dastari into the small room and watched as Gallen pushed the terrible weight in and started pushing it across the room. Pantha cursed silently as the motor sparked and then flamed out, dropping the entire trolley noisily to the floor. She flinched as she expected an explosion that didn't come. She could see Gallen wasn’t far enough across the bay to guarantee the bomb being taken out in the decompression. It needed to be closer to the void and… “muffins and cookies it,” she swore as she saw Gallen straining to lift the shelf, “Barnabus, you see the buttons Gallen mentioned?”
“Yup,” Dastari said uncertainly, wondering why he was being asked.
“You’ll need to press the button when we tell you,” she said, flicking the room intercom on so they could both hear the profanities from Gallen. She gave him a kiss on the forehead before he knew what was happening and sped from one room to the other, appearing to help him lift. <”I’m not allowing TWO ships to be blown up whilst I’m on them,”> he heard her explain, <”I’d get a bad rep!”>

The door to the bridge exploded and Savra stepped in as the smoke cleared. “Step away from the consoles and put your hands up,” he warned. He pointed at the Mican on the bridge. “Berwick, I want a word. Who’s your first?”
The Mican indicated a Canine female. “Calliope.”
“Good to meet you,” Savra remarked snidely. “Berwick, you’ve been hunting in areas allocated to other ships and the Council does not approve.”
“They will after the events, Savra. Then you’ll answer for this.”
Savra put out a hand to stop Rawton from replying. “We know you’ve also been working for a different master, Berwick. Smuggling and taking payments from a new master and not passing the funds on to your clan. Your latest escapades have infringed directly on my activities. That makes you mine. So I have a question for you, Berwick.”
“You interrupt my hunts, kill my crew and damage my ship for a QUESTION,” Berwick spat, his face incredulous. “You really are a son…” He gritted his teeth. “What’s the question, dog?”
Savra stepped close. “Recently you shot down a freighter because we’d stolen the cargo, ****head. The Lisse. But you took the Captain first.” He leaned in close over Berwick. “Where,” he breathed, “Is Captain Speight?”
Berwick smirked. “Like I’d tell you,” he replied. “It’s something I’m keeping to myself…”
“We took him to Solache,” Calliope cut in, earning a murderous look from her Captain. “The people in Calavix wanted to interrogate him.” She shrugged at her boss. “What? It’s in the navicomp. He’d have gotten it anyway.”
"Good call,” Savra told her. “Which brings me to the second thing.” He stepped close to her as Malvey, prewarned about this, stepped over to take Berwick’s weapons off him. “I spoke to your clan chief. He says the sins of the ship are the Captain’s alone. The crew will be welcomed back into the Levanan clan and their families protected, even if they’re arrested…” He held out his knife towards her. “Provided the Captain is dead.” The Pomeranian looked at the knife in confusion before a smile scratched across her face and she took the knife…

Pantha and Gallen put the shelf down close to the sealed exterior doors. They had about ten seconds. “Not enough,” Pantha gasped. “We’ll never make it…”
Gallen pulled her with him and took a tight grip on a wall mounting. “Barnabus, do it now!”
<”But...”>
“We’re dead if you don’t, Dastari!!” Pantha yelled, making Dastari flinch and press the button.
Gallen fought to hold on as the protection against the void vanished and the doors opened.
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

I am enjoying the action parts of the chapter! Lovely work!
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

TWENTY-SIX

Pantha remembered her training and exhaled as the air was whipped from the room. She struggled to keep her eyeballs in place against the growing pressure and wondered how much strength Gallen had to grip on to the stanchion. She figured she’d have lost her grip on it within the first few seconds but he seemed to have no trouble, despite the strain on his face. She felt the heat from his body as he gripped her waist but the scents were gone. Her nose was smelling of copper now. Blood vessels were beginning to rupture in a spray of tiny droplets that matched his as the bomb scraped noiselessly to the gap and flipped out into the void. She automatically tried to gulp but there was nothing there to gulp with. She realised her feet weren’t on the floor. Nor were his. The only thing keeping them alive these few seconds was that impossible grip. She was slipping from his grip….

The doors closed behind them and air began to hiss back into the bay as Dastari worked out that what could be opened could be closed and air would probably go back in automatically and, if the bomb was outside, shouldn’t he shut the door and his hand had slapped the control so the thing had begun to shut and, when the device had blasted into pieces, the shards had propelled in all directions with some heading straight back into the bay. He ducked out of the way as several pieces missed the closing doors and hit the gap between them, vaulted across the bay and smashed into the glass of the control cabin. He looked on. Mister Gallen and Miss Pantha weren’t moving. Well, not much. Miss Pantha looked to be stirring. He opened the door to the cabin and ran to the bay door, reaching high to slap the panel and open it. He ran in and over to where Miss Pantha was trying to give Mister Gallen CPR, pressing her mouth to his for several seconds until he coughed and she pulled back. Dastari was a bit confused. He knew of Mouth to mouth, of course, but he’d heard you needed to press on the chest? Gallen spoke, sounding hoarse. “Good boy,” he said. “Can you check if there’s any..<koff>...one in the passage to help us?”
“Sir,” Dastari nodded, running back to look.
“S...sorry,” Pantha said, sounding similarly hoarse.
“For.. what? People… like kissing us.”
Pantha weakly waved an arm to smack him on the chest. “Swine… Off to… medical?”
“Not wise.” He looked to where her scent was, his eyes not quite back to full strength yet. “Have… medic training so I can deal with you in my quarters.” He took in a pained breath. “Not just medically.”
Pantha swallows painfully. As chat up lines went, it was amongst the most direct she’d ever heard but it was the first she’d had in a while and she’d just escaped death and his quarters were probably better than her cell and he was quite handsome despite the metal teeth and she was tired and she’d already kissed him so… “OK,” she said as Liter and Fluid ran in at Dastari’s behest. They helped the pair up, arms around their waists so they could rest on their helpers shoulders.

“So they’re part of the Lavana clan again,” Kurmak ventured as Savra returned to the bridge.
“Under Mariella Calliope.”
“Ah, a Pomeranian. I suppose being clan will be some comfort when the Militia catches up with them. They have a ship on the way, by the way. They’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
“We’ve got the stuff from the Rika?”
“Well, initial amounts, Captain. Not quite enough to offset our losses. Virrik says Merran’ll be fine and she likes the knife. Can she have it?”
Savra mulled it over. “Take one blade off her and she’s still got dozens. Janus, move us away from here.”
“Heading,” the Swift asked pleasantly.
“Solache. That’s where they took Speight. That’s the next link that takes us into direct contact with the new enemy. They’re called Calavix.”
At that, Janus’ ears pricked up. “Calavix,” he repeated. “I’ve heard of them. Some sort of crime group. They were recruiting around the time I, er, came to work for you, Captain. Had a base on Caval, so I heard. The Feds laid waste to it but some escaped.”
“How do you know that,” Kurmak asked.
Savra face-palmed. “Who do you think TOLD him, Kurmak, ghosts?”
“Of course. Should we advise Jeboah we know who the enemy is?”
“When underway. Gallen?”
“Dealt with the device with help from Pantha and Barnabus. Pantha and Gallen took decompression damage. He wants to monitor her condition in his quarters.”
Savra laughed bitterly. “I’ll bet he does. Tell him its approved provided handcuff conditions are implemented. Hastur, go find the boy. Distract him.” Amongst the things he probably shouldn’t see, Savra thought, is a female who happened to be his mother making love. It had never helped him.
“I want to know who planted that device, Kurmak,” Savra told the science officer. He strode over to the console and shoved the feline away before inputting commands as Hastur left the bridge. “We know where it was,” he continued, “but not when it was planted. Let’s see who shows up on the Chip detection system for that room who shouldn’t be there.”
“Aye, sir,” Kurmak replied, picking himself up off the floor. “What do you want done with the corpses?”
“Strip them of clothes and valuables, let the Doctor take every viable organ from them, then throw ‘em out into space on our next stop.”

Hastur headed down towards Gallens room and pressed the door com. “It’s Hastur, sir,” she stated. “I’m here to pick up Barnabus?”
<”Fluid has him,”> a gravel tinged voice said from inside, talking over another voice.
<”But what if I need to use the loo,>” the voice of Pantha asked.
<”Then I’ll have to go with you. Way of it. Go away, Hastur.”>
She smiled and leaned playfully against the wall as a group of technicians headed by, carrying cables. She inclined her head. “Should I bring a medkit in,” she asked in a sing song voice.
<”Sod off,”> he replied, ending the call.
Hastur laughed gently to herself as she headed down to Liter and Fluid’s quarters.
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Really glad for this next chapter! It really was very enjoyable!
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

TWENTY-SEVEN

Hours passed. Her hand moved across his chest and she woke with something of a start. Her thoughts flashed over the last couple of days and she recalled where she was, who she was with and what they’d done less than a few hours back. “Well, that certainly scratched an itch,” she said, more to herself than to her companion of the evening.
“Pretty sure you scratched a lot more than that,” Gallen replied with a chuckle, turning on the bedside light. “My sides, my back, my chest…”
“Ah,” she said, “you’re a big guy. You can take it.” She reached up with her free arm and tapped his teeth with a claw as he smiled slightly. “I was meaning to ask…”
He shifted around so they were face to face on their sides. He felt the sheets pull from the scratches on his back with a slight pop sound. “About a decade back I lost a number of teeth in an all out fight on Cassepia. Me and a Brockian called Tulak versus three Equinna and a Canine. It was to do with a small supply of Diamonds that had gone missing from a trade. I later found out Tulak had, uh, sequestered a percentage up his backside a few minutes before. We put up a heck of a fight, even managing to cripple one of the Equinna, but the fight didn’t go our way. Tulak ended up on the autopsy table – and they ended up charging the medical examiner with theft after he didn’t report what he’d found ‘up there’ - and I lost sixteen teeth and the full use of my hand,” he finished, holding up his free hand.
Wayla Pantha rolled her eyes and slapped his chest as she laughed. “That explains how you held on so tight in the bay! It’s cybernetically enhanced!”
“Yep.” Gallen remarked. “It cost half my savings to pay for the ‘repairs’. I needed the hand so I had to skimp on the teeth. Ceramics were out so metal was in.” He play gnashed his teeth so they ‘tinked’ together. “I’ve gotten used to them.”
“Well, I imagine you would,” she told him, moving her other arm and pulling his with it. “Not sure I would.”
Gallen pulled up his arm, lifting hers with it and the metal cuffs connecting them. “It’s the Captain’s idea,” he explained. “He knows we can’t always keep ourselves to ourselves. He knows we’re liable to fall victim to desires with a beautiful…”
“You can say prisoner,” Pantha interrupted, stroking his side, having appreciated the compliment.
“...travelling companion,” he finished, making her laugh. “So Handcuff protocol’s in place in case of an escape attempt. You’d have to drag me with you as you went.”
“Hah. Like I could carry you! So, I’m back to my cell?”
Gallen picked up a clock from the side table. “Can’t have you wandering the ship at 0233,” he told her. “Want to stay?”
She propped herself up on an elbow. “Do I have a choice,” she asked sharply. “I’m a prisoner, after all.”
Gallen would have put his hand on her shoulder but it would have made her move her own arm in an unnatural way so he replicated her ‘propped up position. “Neither the Captain or I would ever force a lady,” he boasted, feeling it was right to leave off the words ‘I’ve never had to’.
“OK, then,” she said, leaning in to kiss him. “I suppose the bed’s more comfortable here anyhow,” she admitted before he kissed her back.

Hastur woke with a start. Something was different. She wasn’t in her bed for one thing, she was on her settee. She was still dressed. Her mouth was dry… She had someone with her. Dastari, who she was holding to her chest, grinned up at her. “You snore,” he said happily.
She pushed him off to the side, away from the board game they’d been playing. “I do not,” she protested.
“Then why haven’t I been able to sleep,” he asked, laughing.
“Because you’re sleeping on a settee,” Hastur retorted, swatting him with a cushion. He glubbed noisily, spat out a feather he’d not swallowed and fought back with his own cushion, launching onto her and ‘pushing’ her down onto the settee. “And I know you fell asleep before I did,” Hastur told him between hits.
“How,” he asked, pausing in his onslaught to ask the question.
She tapped him on the nose with a finger. Then whomped him sideways with a cushion. “Because I’m your guard...ian. I’m not supposed to let anything happen to you, am I? And I can’t do that when I’m asleep, can I?”
To Hastur’s surprise, Dastari’s response to this was to grip her in a hug and kiss her cheek before resting his head next to hers, cheek to cheek. She held the boy gently, carefully, like furry porcelain for a moment before levering herself off the settee, still holding his hot weight. Drowsily, he asked what she was doing as she stepped over to her bed and put him in it. She watched his face as he succumbed to sleep and went over to check the security code on the door. Yup, she thought with a mental smile, it had detected a few attempts. Crafty little sod, she told herself before dimming the lights and getting into the bed beside him. He snuggled into her side and she put an arm around him.

<”Do you ever sleep,”> Jeboah asked as Savra sat in his room, getting ready to eat.
“Too often,” Savra replied, jerking the neck of the rodent in hand viciously so Jeboah winced at the snap.
<”I hate when you call at lunch,”> the contact complained.
“I know,” Savra replied, taking the creatures head off with his teeth before audibly consuming it, bones, fur and all. “And you know not to show weakness by throwing up,” he said after swallowing.
<”One of the reasons I still do business with you. Why are you calling at this time of night?”
Savra put his feet up on his pouffe. “I dealt with the Rika,” he admitted. “You can tell the Levanans’ that their new Captain, Calliope, executed Berwick with some relish. Sending you the video now.” He tapped a few controls. “Should be with you. But we have a bigger problem. I know who Berwick was working for. I need to know who you know on Solache. That,” Savra paused to burp, “...is where they took Speight. And they handed him over to the Calavix organisation.” He watched Jeboah flinch slightly and knew the Mican knew the name. “They’re going to try again to get the stealth warship up and running, Jeboah,” Savra warned. “Something like that will play havoc with the trade. We need to stop them NOW.”
Last edited by Welsh Halfwit on Mon Dec 20, 2021 10:13 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

Love the way there is urgency in this chapter! Lovely job!
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Harry Johnathan »

Hastur and Dastari are cute together.

Also I can't imagine how awful it would be to kiss someone with a metal mouth, blech.
Sarah was afraid, so she lied and said, “I did not laugh.” But [The LORD] said, “Yes, you did laugh.” - Genesis 18:15 (NIV).
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

Harry Johnathan wrote: Mon Dec 20, 2021 5:30 am lso I can't imagine how awful it would be to kiss someone with a metal mouth, blech.
It's just metal teeth, not the whole mouth.

TWENTY-EIGHT

“So,” Doctor Virrik said, getting the inoculation ready, “I take it we’re going to Solache, Captain?”
The Brockian sauntered over and, after checking the needle was clear, plunged it into Savra’s left arm and depressed the plunger. “Who told you,” he demanded.
“You just did,” she replied, extracting the needle and watching the single spot of blood form on the skin before patting the fur down over it. “You’re allergic to Tasarian Kaltoves yet they’re one of your favourite foods. You just took the anti allergy treatment for it and we haven’t any in stock.” She put the needle in the sharps bin. “In the patch, they’re only found on Solache so we’re headed there.”
You’re too smart for your own good, Doctor Watson,” Savra grumped.
“Hmm,” she mused, “I’m more of a Professor Moriarty than a Watson; going by that literary example.”
“Hardly,” Savra replied, “he never got caught. YOU were doing a hundred life sentences.”
She rolled her eyes. “And I thank you for relieving me of that enforced government service. But it’s not like I haven’t worked my sentence, is it?” She strode away, throwing a tissue into a bin. “Poison one colony and they never let you forget it,” she complained flippantly. Savra put his jacket back on and headed away from the room.

A few minutes later, he stood in front of Vatrick, as Gallen stood to the side. “I’m told Liter let you know about the possibility of a bomb two days ago, is that correct,” he asked quietly.
The Coydog put a finger between his jacket collar and his neck and adjusted it slightly. “I, er, needed to confirm the facts before…”
Savra’s hand flashed out and grabbed the moving hands wrist tightly. “What you needed to do,” he seethed, twisting the wrist slightly so the discomfort registered on Vatrick’s face, “was tell me or Gallen.” He brought his face closer to the Coys and sharpened his tone, showing off his teeth in the process as he bent Vatrick backwards and showered him with spittle. “This is so we hear about it BEFORE it’s about to go off! I know why you didn’t tell us, you thought we’d blame you for the theft!” He released the wrist and straightened up. “You are not responsible for the theft.”
Vatrick rubbed his aching wrist. “Thank you, Captain. I will…” He stopped in his tracks as Savra backhanded him across the room into Gallen’s arms.
“I never said you weren’t responsible for your own actions after you found out,” he told Vatrick as the engineer spat out some blood. “If we’d known about that threat, we could have dealt with it before it did damage to my ship and almost did damage to my first! I expect you to use common sense, Vatrick. You DO have common sense, don’t you,” he asked, sliding into a coy tone of voice.
“Ab… absolutely, sir.”
“Then I’ll not dock your pay. THIS time. On other topics,” he added, “how’s the stealth plating going?”
“The shuttle will be ready later today,” the Coydog professed.
“It had better be,” Gallen said, releasing the engineer. “Because we’ll be needing it today.”
“And, as it’s a test run as well as being an active mission,” Savra warned, “you’re coming with us. So you’d better get it right! Get out of here.” He waved a hand and Vatrick took the hint, scooting out of the room, tail between his legs. “You reckon that Pantha woman’s going to stick around, Gallen,” he asked, moving around to take up his seat.
Gallen shrugged. “It’s a possibility of a chance,” he admitted.
“Well, if she does the job and decides she wants to, we can offload that little greaseball onto someone else. I need people who respect me enough to talk to me, not fearful enough to keep things from me.”
“When you said ‘we’ earlier..,” Gallen said, looking to change the subject, “you meant ‘you, didn’t you?”
“Hmm,” Savra confirmed. “Get Janus in here.”

Janus stared at him. Stared at the pair of them. He had his hands behind his back and was practically dancing on his feet as he struggled to hold his tongue after what he’d just heard.
“You have permission to speak, Janus,” Savra said casually.
“I was hoping you could, er, repeat what you just said, Captain,” the Swift told him. “I’m, uh, not sure my brain took it in.”
“I’m not surprised,” Gallen chipped in, crossing his arms as Janus glanced at him.
“I said you’re going to infiltrate this Calavix group for us,” Savra told him. “You said they tried to recruit you before I did? This time you’re gonna say ‘yes’ Jeboah’s told me where he suspects they’re recruiting and, with the colony reporting a fair increase in the number of stolen vehicles, we’re pretty sure people like you are working the streets. Get close to them, get invited in and we’ll follow you to their base.”
“What if…” Janus started. “What if they find out about me? My life won’t be worth buttons.”
“It’s barely worth buttons now,” Savra snorted. “Save for the accounts you still hold, of course. Unless you open your mouth to the wrong person, you’ll do fine. Your implanted tracker shouldn’t be detected according to the manufacturers guarantee. When you’ve found the location, we can scan the area and, hopefully, transport down and find Speight. It’s all about dealing with the enemy, Janus. We need information before we go in for the kill. The Kerbal won’t show up so they’ll think you’re still doing your running… thing.”
Janus frowned. “The Kerbal… won’t show up, sir?”
“We’re taking the shuttle. Vatrick assures me the stealth plating will hide us so you, me, him and Hastur are going to try it out. Gallen’s keeping the ship on the dark side of their moon until it’s needed. Go get ready.”
“Sir, uh, what if… what if I don’t want to do it?”
Savra considered anger. He considered the better responses. In the end, he kept his voice down. “Then I’ll have you help Virrik in some of her work,” he said simply.
“I’ll be ready for the trip in an hour, sir,” Janus said automatically.
After Janus left, Gallen looked to his Captain. “I thought you didn’t lie to the crew, sir,” he said, knowing he was one of the few who could challenge this way.
“I didn’t. The trackers guarantee just happens to be five years out of date is all. Stand to alert, Gallen. They wanted that plating for a ship. Unless they’re constructing it, that ship’s out here somewhere.”
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

What a really bold chapter once again! Good work Welshy!
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Welsh Halfwit »

I must admit I altered the 'infiltration' plan after this part as I recalled it's exactly the same as Harvests plan in the Postain storyline. It's one thing for a completely seperate group to come up with the same plan but another to write the same plan into a story!
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

That is true. Though the only idea I want to see reused is Hawle getting hit with stuff. XD
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Harry Johnathan »

Welsh Halfwit wrote: Mon Dec 20, 2021 2:43 pm I must admit I altered the 'infiltration' plan after this part as I recalled it's exactly the same as Harvests plan in the Postain storyline. It's one thing for a completely seperate group to come up with the same plan but another to write the same plan into a story!
There have been WAY weirder coincidences in real life.
Sarah was afraid, so she lied and said, “I did not laugh.” But [The LORD] said, “Yes, you did laugh.” - Genesis 18:15 (NIV).
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Re: A Pirates' word

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And now the darker side of things. This one I did adjust whilst writing it to maintain feelings towards characters, both positive and negative, and how they'd react. It's time for a masthead trial...

TWENTY-NINE

The chef – such as he was – sampled the soup he was making for lunch and reckoned it a success due to the fact he wasn’t heaving and could still taste the meat in the broth. He wasn’t exactly top class restaurant quality – or, even, greasy spoon cafe level, if he were being honest – but it’d do for the scum on the ship. He hated the job anyhow. It was no work for a Celican, COOKING foods. Just because he’d had to work in a fast food joint on a Canine colony for a few months didn’t mean he liked it. But it kept him out of the front line and useful to the Captain so Chakka Valterik was ‘happy’ to do the job until his cash came in. As for now, he was going to have to order more instant soup and vegetables, although he had a Lappinean sub chef who usually dealt with that end of things. He ladled some of the slop into several bowls and put them in the storage area for doling out on the other side of the wall. He turned around… to face Yalla. The Canine smiled genially at the Celican, before gesturing to the door with his gun. “Captain wants a word, Valtarik,” he said glibly.

Savra sat in his chair on the bridge as the others kept to their stations. Gallen was to his left with Hastur and Janus in front. Kurmak, however, was in front of the Captain as Valtarik was brought in and thrown to the floor. He scrambled back up to his feet and turned to face them, his knees trembling slightly. “You… you asked to see me, Captain,” he said, trying to lighten things with a tiny joke.
Savra waved a finger in his direction to indicate silence and pointed it to indicate that Kurmak should continue.
“...Due to the scans taken after the incident, we found access records for the previous tw weeks had, in part, been falsified to cover up the theft of explosive material, to whit the material that almost killed Gallen, Pantha and Barnabus. So we looked through the tag data to find if anyone… unexpected… had been in that store room over the last few weeks.”
“And who… I mean what did you find,” Savra asked, appreciating the look on the cooks face as the Captain played the game. It was one step from confusion to panic, he reckoned. It was interesting – and repulsive – to see it on a Celican face.
“Apparently the tag of one Chakka Valterik accessed that store room three times in the last two weeks, Captain. As there are no food supplies in that bay, Valterik has no reason to access that room.”
“Well, Valterik,” Savra asked grimly.
“It… it’s a lie, Captain, the tag results have been falsified! It…” he gestured with his hands, imploring the Officers to believe him. “F...Fleetwood must have fixed the data somehow or…”
“The tracking data is kept on an entirely isolated system that can only be accessed by my individual command code, particular to this one file,” Savra replied, inspecting his clawtips. “Fleetwood can’t access them.” He was, he thought, at least ninety percent certain on that. “So, care to tell me WHY you wanted to steal chemicals capable of destroying part of the ship? I’ll go lighter on you if you end this hunt early, bearing in mind I’m quite ready to be not just Judge to a Command jury but also…” He grimaced, allowing Valterik to see his face made unpleasant by the scar. “You get the rest. Tell me now and I’ll let you off at the nearest firm ground”
Valterik swallowed.

“I… I...I…, er…” The Celican swallowed and decided to tell the truth. He told of how he’d been approached by Captain Hasstin of the Ocirra -
“Who,” Gallen asked.
“Up and comer in our sector,” Savra remarked, keeping his chin on his right hand as he sat forward to listen. “Continue.”
The chef continued, telling of how the Osiran had applied pressure and various forms of blackmail to get him to do certain work for him on board the Kerbal. The last work involved was to have been the bomb that was designed to do serious damage to the ship without making it fatal to all. He’d taken some of the chemicals and used the processors and lab in the small hours, when security was more lax, to create the device but, he stressed, he’d worked in stabilizers so it wouldn’t detonate too easily. He didn’t want to blow himself up now, did he? He spoke of how the Osiran had threatened a family member and he had to do the job. It wasn’t his fault and he was sorry and so on and so forth until he ran out of words.
“Yalla, take him to my office,” Savra stated and the Canine escorted the sullen Celican out of the room. “Well,” He said as the door closed.
“He did it,” Janus remarked. “I mean, it’s good that he admits it but he did it.”
“But they’re holding one of his family hostage,” Hastur put in.
Savra waved a hand. “Our file on him indicate the last of his direct family died a year back, Hastur. They’re not entirely complete but we’ve found no reference to anyone living. So I’m not convinced on any of that. I’m also thinking that it’s strange he didn’t come to someone in authority to help. He can’t have believed we’d do nothing. Instead he stayed silent and planted a bomb in a dangerous part of the ship.”
“We can take the mitigating circumstances into the equation,” Gallen advised, “but there’s not much point arguing over what he did. The only thing still to be decided is what the punishment is now. Five of us are sitting in judgement. Five of us have heard his case for mitigation.” He stood up with a pouch in his hand. “Now we get to decide.”

Gallen stepped over to Kurmak first and the scientist chose between the two small porcelain balls he had in front of him. One black. One white. He picked them both up with one hand and put the hand in his pocket. One of the balls dropped into his trousers and he carefully checked the one in his hand to make sure he had the right one and the others couldn’t see it. Then he put the hand into the pouch and released the ball. He stepped over to Janus and the Swift made his decision quickly.
“There’s no abstentions, Hastur,” the Captain said as the Dober pondered her choice. “It needs to be done. One way or the other. You need to decide if what he wanted was worth what he was risking.”
“I get that, sir but…” She sighed. And chose.

Gallen and Savra stepped into the teleport bay with Valterik. “It was a split decision,” Savra told him tightly. “Three to two. So, as agreed, I’m going to put you down on the nearest land we came to.” He indicated the bay for the cook to stand on.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Valterik said heavily. “I would never want to do anything to harm you but…”
“I know,” Savra told him.
Valterik looked around. “Couldn’t I just get some belongings to take with me?”
Savra looked bored. “Why waste them,” he asked. “I said it was a split decision. Three to two,” he growled as the teleport beam began to take effect. “I never said you won,” he finished as he teleported Valterik onto the airless moon of Solache. “Promote that Lappinean to head cook,” he told Gallen before striding from the room to get back to mission prep.
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Re: A Pirates' word

Post by Amazee Dayzee »

It may be a bit of a darker turn but you managed to capture everything perfectly! Great job!
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