“Nobody move! Nobody! If I see so much as a tail-twitch I’ll blast every last one of you!”
Robert brandished his heavy mazer gun as he stomped swiftly out of the airlock. As predicted, the xenos weren’t exactly quiet, but he was sure that his words translated, thanks to the commbeads every sentient had. The reverse wouldn’t be true, there was simply so many of them, but that wouldn’t matter. He would be the one doing the talking today, and they the listening.
To make sure they knew how serious he was, Robert blasted the central light-fixture of the grand ballroom. It exploded in a satisfyingly violent array of sparks, an action which caused a large amount of unrest, with lots of chittering and hooting and growl-clicking and hissing from all involved. They’d moved away from the center of the ballroom, where they’d been doing a mixture of dancing, talking and mooching off the free buffet, and now stood more or less in a wide ring, watching him. Good.
“That’s right! I’m glad I have your attention! If you all behave, if you’re all good little boys and girls, I can relieve you of all those unreasonably heavy items of jewelry you have on you, and we can all be on our way in peace! Won’t that be nice?” He spoke loudly and slowly, with generous showing off of his weapon that had proven itself to be highly effective in stopping any sort of xeno-related issues. “Okay, [Grawror], you know the drill!”
Robert knew his First Mate and the rest of his crew — a mixture of human, jornassian, dorarizin and even karnakian ne'er do wells — would circle the grand ballroom of this pleasure cruiser and collect tribute from the local sentients as they had many times before. He also knew the likely way this would go. These ships always had private security personnel, and said personnel would always—yep, there they were.
Superheated plasma sizzled overhead as Robert dove to the side. He raised his Mazer and fired back, nailing a karnakian in the head. The space-dino went down, swiftly followed by his — or her — partner. There was more commotion in the crowd that Robert didn’t bother trying to decipher as a rapid and desperate light-show commenced involving him, other members of his crew and the security forces of the vessel they were robbing. The xenos were quick, but Robert and his men were quicker. Soon enough, there was relative peace, as several bodies lay smoking on the floor.
“If anybody else fancies getting blasted,” Robert loudly announced triumphantly, breathing hard, “try us!”
To his surprise, there was a sudden blur of motion as a smallish dorarizin weaved her way — Robert assumed it was a ‘her’ based on the pink bows around her ears — through the crowd towards him. The rest of his crew were preoccupied, but he reckoned he could deal with one lone kid.
He levelled the rifle at the newcomer warningly, but she didn’t stop. She also didn’t seem particularly dangerous. Her tail wagged as she bark-growled at him, his commbead handily translating.
“[H-here you go mister pirate sir! I-I’ve got my very special treasure just for you! Y-you can have it i-i-if you want!]” the little creature said, almost vibrating with nervous energy.
Robert scowled, confused. He wasn’t about to shoot a kid though. “Drop it!” he shouted. “Put it down, on the floor! I’ll take your treasure, little lady, just keep your distance. And nobody else move cos I won’t hesitate to blast the first one of you that does!”
The xeno kid did indeed put something down on the floor, before — tail wagging even more furiously — she backed away, skipping towards, presumably, her parents.
Robert was confused as he picked up something relatively large, very flat and rectangular. He was still confused as Grawror returned with a large sack full of shiny, metallic objects. The rest of his crew followed soon after, leering and waving their guns around as they kept watch for any more trouble. The crowd was buzzing with chatter, but none of them seemed overly inclined to try anything stupid.
“You got the goods?” he asked. The dorarizin First Mate nodded. “Good.” Robert then turned to the crowd, brandishing his weapon and firing it again, setting off another shower of sparks. “Thank you all, ladies and gentlemen, for your cooperation! We’ll be leaving you now to carry on with your fine lives, having collected our fair share of the toll for passing through our sector of space. Just remember, attempting to follow us would be extremely bad for your health, which would make me, personally, very unhappy!”
Beating a hasty retreat from the plushly carpeted, well-outfitted ballroom, keeping his maser rifle handy, Robert, his First Mate and the rest of his scurvy crew exited to his ship, Promise of Freedom. Minutes later, they were blasting away into the Big Black before any distress beacons could be fired off and authorities could intervene.
It had all gone off like clockwork.
***
Robert sat on his throne on the bridge, scowling, deep in thought. He hadn’t even wanted to count the spoils, which upset Grawror immensely.
“[We did good, [boss],]” Grawror said, tail wagging hopefully. “[Lots of [dosh], yes?]” The dorarizin looked down at the the fierce pirate-king the Dread Pirate Roberts and worried. Ordinarily the human could be found counting his loot and loudly enjoying himself in the mess hall, but today he was sullen and distracted by something he held. Grawror stepped closer, trying to see just what it was. Robert noticed the slowly looming shadow as he look up, and spoke.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, come here a moment, will you Grawror?”
“[Yes [boss]?]”
Robert looked up from the drawing of a happy smiling pirate and equally happy smiling dorarizin pup that he held in one hand, raised his maser, and shot Grawror in the face.
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The alien ships overhead were a common sight these days, even though they seldom landed outside of strictly designated areas. Robert had been born in a free world; free from crime, from need, from pain and suffering… free from purpose. He resented it with a burning passion.
He’d muddled his way through school — where well-meaning xenos had upended everything he’d been trying to learn and replaced it with a broad syllabus meant to induct humanity into a universe far wider and older than the one he’d been born into, but also far more ‘safe’ — and realized nothing he’d learned actually mattered. Then he’d muddled his way through college and university because it was the done thing — where more well-meaning xenos had turned all the promising research humanity had been involved in before Atlanta into an exercise in history writ small several tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of years ago — and came out the other end with a degree that, whilst it would have been very respectable and even useful in any of the decades before he’d been born, before Atlanta, was now not even worth the freely available paper it was printed on.
He’d been released into a world where he didn’t *need* to do *anything*. He’d got himself an apartment after coming of age because everybody got one, by asking nicely. He’d got himself the latest in pursuits to while away the years between *now* and *death* because everybody could get them. He was healthy, he wasn’t hungry or naked, he had shelter, his world was being restored and improved and… he had nothing to do.
The xenos had taken everything from him, so what did he have to lose? He was going to take everything from them.
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This Zephyr station was identical to all the rest. The only distinguishing feature was that it was the closest. The trip up the wire was in all actuality as boring as heck, but for Robert, his heart would not stop trying to beat its way out of his chest.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“[Hello sir or madame insert here as appropriate, we are pleased to welcome you to Zephyr Station Eight. What is the purpose of your visit today?]” The jornissian behind the desk looked excited to be there, which was probably due to the fact that he was. It was ordinarily a human position, but today was a galactic outreach day, so the desk was being temporarily snaked.
Robert fumed. Yet another job taken by aliens. He smiled thinly and widened his eyes to try to appear innocent. “I’m just here for sightseeing, don’t mind me.”
The large snake-creature hissed to itself for a few moments before tapping into a console and then looking up and answering. “[Thank you sir or madame insert here as appropriate, here is your day pass please stay to the marked sections I am insert name here and I am pleased to help you!]”
“Er, thank you, thank you. I will.” Robert collected his pass and affixed it to his jacket as he stepped deeper into the station leaving the beaming alien behind.
Penetrating restricted areas with the xenos on watch was incredibly easy. They were disgustingly easy going, polite to a fault and, once he’d managed to convince them he absolutely really totally was allowed to be there — basically by brandishing his tablet and bullshitting them about needing to check the systems whenever an eager, uncertain and overly helpful xeno of whatever species it happened to be at the time tried to intercept him — he was able to move about relatively freely.
From there, it was easy pickings. A few one-man scouts and tenders, a large deep-space exploration cruiser… nope, too small, too large… wait! A dorarizin ship, relatively small and apparently empty, sat in one of the berths, powered down but otherwise in flight-ready condition. It had to be worth a lot of cash to somebody, right? Chances were he could waltz right in and take it, like they’d taken everything from him, with their ridiculously polite and helpful attitudes and disgustingly friendly natures.
Nobody ever said Robert was the brightest of bulbs. Two things hadn’t quite entered his consciousness at the time, and neither of them would have stopped him if they had. Number one, the universe was nominally post-scarcity. The ship wasn’t exactly *worth* anything, not in the grand scheme of things. Number two, and most importantly, *he couldn’t have flown it in a million years*. Ordinarily, this hair-brained idea to steal something worthless and unstealable would have fizzled before it got off the ground, so to speak, but as it happened on this day, the vicarious gods of fate decided to roll those dice.
“[Hello, [human], I do not believe you should be here, can I help you?]” The lone dorarizin and karnakian onboard were not ship crew, they were *station* crew, sent onboard to make sure the decontamination protocols were properly followed and change out a few minor systems before heading back out into space. Robert, with his inability to properly read computers, hadn’t quite understood what he was being told when the systems onboard had helpfully pointed these facts out to him.
Whilst Robert wasn’t the brightest bulb, he was quick on his feet. He ran with it. “Yes, I’m going to steal this ship and you’re going to let me!”
The dorarizin and karnakian exchanged glances with each other and with him for a few moments, silently, before the dorarizin put down the tablet he was using, and spoke. “[Excuse me a brief moment, sir, if you would?]”
The human tensed, sensing that everything had gone decidedly pear-shaped. “I-I-I-I’ve got a bomb! A-and I’ll detonate it! It’ll kill *everyone* on Zephyr Eight!” Robert stood there, shaking, as the dorarizin and the karnakian talked to each other in low tones. He realized he couldn’t actually understand them at this volume, and felt the icy touch of uncertainty tickle its way across his back and into his belly.
The karnakian, especially, was watching him thoughtfully with at least one pair of its eyes. The dorarizin bark-click-growled something at the saurian xeno, who hoot-chirp-squawked something back at the canine, then the dorarizin tapped out a few commands at lightning speed on a nearby control panel, spoke into a comm unit under his breath and finally turned to Robert.
“[As you wish, sir. This ship is now under your control. What do you want to do with it?]”
“Umm… umm…” Robert stood there for a few moments, dumbfounded. Somehow, it hadn’t actually occurred to him that his braindead plan would *actually work*. “Uhh… I’m going to… steal this ship!”
“[Yes, you have done that.]” The dorarizin was patient and helpful, his ears drifting forwards in a marked state of concern.
“And, uh, I’m going to… use it… to… uh… steal… more stuff?”
The dorarizin’s tail wagged, thumping against himself and the deck. “[That can be arranged. If you would like to take a seat in the captain’s chair, sir, we can… uh, [Chr’Pk’Tse], if you would l-lift our esteemed captain onto his… yes, I think you will need to get him some cushions. Are you alright now, captain? Comfortable? If so we can get going.]”
Robert sat in the subtly modified captain’s chair where he’d been set by the karnakian, bolstered by cushions, several feet too high off the deck to be entirely comfortable, and dumbly stared at astronavigation screens he was entirely unfamiliar with. “Yes! Perfect! A-and you’ll do as I say o-or I’ll detonate the bomb!”
The two members of his new crew shared a look, then turned back to him. “[Of course you will,]” answered the karnakian softly, “[You’re a very scary human and we’ll do everything you say, sir. Just give us an order.]”
“I-I-I want to steal stuff! Yes! I’m a pirate cap—king! A-and you’re my crew!”
“[If we’re going to become pirates, sir, we’ll need a larger crew, is it okay if I hire some?]”
Robert felt quite accomplished. It was exactly right, he’d need more of a crew than two if he was going to be a pirate king, and not immediately put into a jail cell for doing something so utterly ridiculous as attempting to steal a spaceship. “Of course! But tell them a-a-about the bomb! And that they have to do as I say!”
“[As you wish, sir! We shall, uh, set a course for, umm, where would you like to go today?]”
“Somewhere with lots of things to steal!” There had been a cliff, at some point, over which a man in a figurative barrel had plunged to almost certain (if figurative) death, only to bob up several miles downstream still kicking and screaming, the latter two things *also* figurative for now.
Turning back wasn’t an option, so thus did the Dread Pirate King Robert start his career plundering the spacelanes. Which leads us neatly to ‘today’.
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“[Ow.]”
Robert looked at the gun, then fired it again at his first mate Grawror.
“[That really does hurt, could you… no! Put it… I said put it down! You could do yourself a serious injury at this range.]”
Robert hissed, rubbing his wrist as the maser rifle was torn from his grasp. The dorarizin had moved quicker than Robert had ever seen him move to disarm him of his maser rifle when he’d looked down the barrel of it, the rifle which — up until now — he’d thought was the most deadly weapon devised by anyone in known space that could actively be wielded by an unaugmented human.
“Did I ever actually hurt anyone with that thing?” Robert asked quietly, still nursing his hand. He looked down at the deck, seemingly slumping in on himself.
“[Umm, n-no, not as such.]” Grawror answered. His ears drooped sideways, and his tail was tucked between his legs. He half held out a hand to his small and helpless captain that had never quite allowed him to scent properly. The little guy smelled, sounded and now looked like an entirely bedraggled pup. It was usually part of his charm, trying *so hard* to be fierce. Now he just looked heartbroken.
Robert slumped further. “I’ll take that as a hard no. Does everybody know about this? Are you all in on it? Laughing at me?”
“[Well, [Tri’pk’ti] handles comms, so she has to know, and [Helen] handles [PR] so she knows. [Rfttrgr] is our weapons specialist, so he knows… b-but nobody’s laughing at you. Never!]”
“Just… tell me if there’s anybody who *doesn’t* know, okay?”
“[Okay.]” Grawror was silent for a few moments as he desperately tried to add a name to a very, very short list.
Robert slumped further still as Grawror’s tail thumped once, hopefully.
“Is that what I am to you? A joke?”
Grawror’s brow, in as much as dorarizins had them, furrowed. “[No, of course not!]”
“So I’m *not* the most wanted pirate in seven star systems?”
“[Oh you’re very wanted!]” Grawror’s tail now thumped against his body enthusiastically. “[You’re a celebrity. You have a fan club and everything!]”
Robert looked up at the alien in front of him; a shaggy, brown, fierce carpet of fleas whose trademark limp had disappeared along with his alleged infestation. His employee, his betrayer, and… now his what?
“I have a fan club?”
“[Yes!]”
“But we steal from… it’s all an act, isn’t it? Is *any* of my treasure worth *anything*?”
“[Oh we’re quite solvent, even after re-fabbing costs. [Trp’Tk’Nrk] keeps a very close set of eyes on our finances, and we’re doing quite well for ourselves.]”
Robert sat up straighter on his throne, made of bones that were most likely also fabbed rather than ripped from the bodies of his enemies as he’d been told they had been, and tilted his head. “You mean to tell me… we make money, by stealing things from aliens?” There was indeed a light at the end of the tunnel, and Robert was most surprised that it wasn’t a freight-train coming the other way.
“[Ye-es, though… not as such ‘stealing’, more by giving the passengers a… I believe you call it ‘a good show’?]”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“[You seemed so… into it. I was going to tell you, really I was! We all were, but you just seemed so… so happy! Please be happy again? Please?]”
Robert sighed deeply, then jumped off his throne. “Fine. Okay. Whatever. Get that stupid thing out of my sight, put together something less ridiculous and walk me through what it is we *actually* do.” The man looked at the drawing in his hand, of a happy dorarizin pup holding paws and hands with a fierce looking pirate. “And you tell me I have a fanclub? Can you… send something special to this kid?”
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“Nobody move! Nobody! If I see so much as a tail-twitch I’ll blast every last one of you!”
Robert lifted his maser rifle and blasted the light fixture in the middle of the ballroom, it exploded in a satisfying shower of sparks. The appreciative crowd milled about, chatting with each other over the adorableness of the little would-be pirate captain.
“That’s right, ladies and gentlemen! Today I’m not here to steal all your valuables! Today I’m recruiting for my crew! I’m looking for pirates of all shapes and sizes to join my scurvy ranks! We’ve got an entire afternoon of treasure hunting to do! And nobody’s going to stop us!”
The security forces were swiftly disabled by a frantic light-show, and the hordes of screaming and appreciative alien puffballs swamped his ship, along with their duly designated prisoners — their parents — where they made short work of a set of food the parents despaired about followed by an overly enthusiastic set of activities involving sword fighting, fishing for treasure from dark pools, and taking ‘wanted’ photos of each other to draw on.
...If he couldn’t make his own world better, at least the Dread Pirate Roberts could be a bad influence on all these kids by letting them eat too much candy and learn to hit each other with foam weapons.
Yeah, that’d do it. It’d be revenge of a sort, at least.