A Chance Encounter
20 Dec 2019CreepyB4by
My head is spinning. I met a group of pilots today that just defied all belief. They were so inchoate in mind, body and ability that it made me wonder how they were pilots at all. It all started when I stopped in for some food in Cubeo. I landed at Chelomy Orbital with the familiar deep thud of the frameshift drive disengaging in my Anaconda, the Event Horizon, as I dropped out of supercruise. Hailing the starport, my docking request was immediately granted and the docking computer took over from there. I stood up, stretched my arms and happily trotted down the short hallway to my cabin where I traded my heavy pilot's jacket for something lighter and more relaxed. Ugh, finally a little R &R, I thought to myself as I deftly worked the buttons on a Hawaiian style shirt, marrying the fabric. I left the top two buttons open. Nice and Casual, I hummed to myself. As I stepped off the ship and set foot on the firm walkways of the spaceport I felt an immediate sense of relief. Sooooo nice to be on firm ground. The usual insecurities and level of alertness needed to operate a vessel in the cosmos began to slip away. As I left the landing pad where the Horizon was docked, I could hear the rush of voices, laughter, music and other sounds of the spaceport.
Before I knew it, I was in the civilian sector, entertainment and food area. The smells of the various interstellar cuisines wafted under my nose like they were carried on a sweet, soft breeze. I closed my eyes and drank them in. Most of the smells were familiar to me, common foods like pizza, hamburgers, french fries, others were completely unknown; exotic spices from a system unfamiliar. Likewise the people and their dress varied as much as the food itself. It was a welcome myriad of sight and sound that urged me to further relax and forget the dangers of space. All at once, I smelled a deeply familiar aroma. It was kurzen froud, one of my favorite dishes from LHS 3447, where I was born. Kurzen is very similar to Earth's eggplant and froud was a cheese not dissimilar to parmesan in texture, but more like a mix of cheddar and mozzarella in flavor. My mouth began to water. I had been eating nothing but freeze dried rations for the last two weeks solid.
I followed my nose to the source of the smell and found a small bar. This bar, like the other establishments in this alleyway-like tunnel was built into the wall, so that looking down the corridor, one would see a number of doors and windows with the accompanying signage posted above. Some of the shops simply had bars that opened right into the corridor with stools, where people would order from the outside rather than going inside the often very small rooms of the various eateries.
What a dive, I chuckled to myself. The outside of the bar was nothing special. Industrial metal with an ancient sign that read 'Bagglosh's Den' in Cubean, according to my iSee, which is an occular implant that translates a number of common languages into a language the user can understand, among other things. There was also a small, yellowed paper poster sticking to the wall near the door that read 'Now Serving Lavian Brandy.'
As I ventured inside, I was hit by a wave of smells, the kurzen froud being one of the strongest among them as froud was thought to be a somewhat stinky cheese. I also smelled old metal, leather, alcohol, and, faintly, what smelled like cat urine. The inside of the bar had a look that I always thought of as 'Space Tavern' The tables and beer steins, the central location of the bar, the varied guests and travelers, it all reminded me of a game I used to play, 'Sorrow's Eve', which took place in fuedal times and concerned wizards, dragons and all manner of lore associated with the time period. The obvious difference here was that nearly everything was made of metal rather than wood and most of the people were wearing much more updated clothing. I traipsed up to the bar, motioned to the barkeep, a large, sweaty man who was drying a metal stein with what appeared to be a dirty washcloth. He nodded to me, set the stein down and approached me, uttering a series of unfamiliar grunts and vowel sounds. Almost instantly I heard a gruff voice in my ear say 'What'll it be?', it was my computerized assistant, Verity, the audio translation feature being an extension of my iSee. The translator not only translated the words, but also created syntax and a voice to match the foreign speaker's own voice and syntax.
As I began to answer, I saw a familiar green-blue glint in the pig faced barkeep's left eye, informing me that he was wearing his iSee as well. "I'll take the kurzen froud, my good man, and don't be shy with the froud," I said chuckling. His unhappy expression didn't change and when I chuckled, the obvious displeasure on his face deepened. He turned away, grumbling. "Whatever, Asshole," verity said. "What was that, sir?" I called back to him. He turned towards me as he walked backwards through metal batwing doors into the kitchen and issued another series of sounds. "I said it'll be 10 minutes." Then a second later the translator said again "Asshole". I shrugged it off. I don't have the time or patience to argue with a food service worker right now. I looked around the bar and spied an empty table and took a seat there.
As I sat in my seat, I looked around at the bar again. There was a bleached skull of an animal I couldn't identify over the bar and several images from the digital news discussing various victories and achievements of pilots unknown to me on the walls. Suddenly, I realized the urine smell was much stronger now. It was almost overwhelming and seemed to be coming from right behind me. As I turned, I saw the back of a large, fat man with a leather vest on. His buttcrack was exposed and seemed to be quite hairy. There were three others seated at the table and as I turned one of them, an interesting looking character that seemed to be half cat pointed and hissed at me. "WTF do you want?" said the cat man through my iSee. The other four turned and looked at me as well, the large man with the exposed crack farting as he turned in his chair.
"Nothing, just waiting on my food," I said quickly. They instantly began to relax and I quickly followed up with "Does it smell like pee in here to you?"
Buttcrack immediately began to laugh and said "Aye, 'at's Furstreak," pointing at the cat. "Since 'e spliced 'is genes 'e's been pissing anywhere 'e likes and the smell follows 'im aroun'." Furstreak seemed deeply displeased with this disclosure.
"Riiight," I said, "I'm CMDR CreepyB4by, btw. So, you're Furstreak and who are the rest of you?"
Buttcrack informed me that his real name was Hairy Polo, he then went around the table, pointing to each of the others in turn. "That's ThePirateOrc," said Hairy pointing to an individual who looked like a toddler, but stood about 5 feet tall. "That's Maloteee," he said pointing to a thin boy in thick glasses with dark hair and a chili bowl hair cut, "and this here's Scooby," he indicated, turned in his seat to show me a medium sized dog that was licking Hairy's large, pudgy arm. "I'm scoooby ... " Said the dog distractedly.
"OMG, he can talk?" I uttered in suprise. "Course he can!" insisted Hairy Polo as he pet the dog reassuringly. At this point Scooby stopped licking and looked at me. He had a human face and a familiar green-blue glint in his left eye. No fucking way, I thought incredulously, now I really have seen it all.
"We's the Dark Marooners!" Exclaimed Hairy proudly, thumbing his large, pudgy, hairy chest.
"It's Marauders, stupid!" Cried ThePirateOrc, the man-baby, "and I's their leader!"
If I had been drinking, I would have choked at that. "You're the leader?" I asked in suprise.
"Yeah!" he called back, "why's can't I be the one leading? I'm the smartest of this crew."
"No reason," I lied, "I just thought it was Hairy."
"No, he's da second." ThePirateOrc informed me. Hairy farted again, seemingly in response.
This one was rancid and it turned my stomach to have my nostrils assaulted by Hairy's anal gas and Furstreak's urine soaked fur simultaneously.
"So, what do you guys do? Mercenary? Bounty Hunters?" I felt a little bad for assuming they were combat pilots, but I just couldn't imagine them being anything else.
"Uhhh, we robs from da rich and gives it to ... uhh .. us, I guess." Said ThePirateOrc. I felt a small tinge of embarrassment. ThePirateOrc .. of course they're pirates.
"Wow, I said, sounds exciting. You do well with the pirating?" I asked casually.
At this, Hairy Polo interjected, "Yeah, of course we's do!! We's just killed a man in a type 9, actually, the three's of us. We's like to attack in threes that way he's don't get away." The remaining three at the table cheered at this, taking a swig from their steins. Scooby let out a yelp and continued licking Hairy's hairy arm.
"Does that pay well?" I asked, not knowing how to continue this conversation.
"Yeah!! When we killed that guy in the 9, uhhh, he's dropped cargo. We's got 20 of 'is load and we's splits it, free ways!" Shouted Hairy excitedly.
"You's splits it free ways?" I said mocking him a little, "what was he carrying?"
ThePirateOrc's childlike face spread into a grin as he called out "Advanced medicines!", to which the pirates cheered and Scooby yelped.
"Advanced medicine?" I asked, incredulously, "what's that even worth? like less than 1,000 credits a piece?" At this moment, my food arrived. The fat barkeep dropped my plate on the table with a unhappy jeering face. He left just as quickly as he arrived, muttering 'asshole' again as he departed.
Furstreak responded dumbly, "Yeah, it's tons, yarrrreeeoooww!" as he pounded his furry fists on the table and shuddered involuntarily.
Hairy followed this by saying "it might not be as much as some loads, but uhhh .. it's .. um .. about the symbols .. er .. signs .. or somefin'."
"Principle, moron!" corrected ThePirateOrc "It's about da principle of da madder."
"What principle is that?" I asked, having turned in my chair, now holding my plate in my lap as I twirled noodles around my fork.
"Duh principle of .. uh .. um ... well .. Why do you ask so many questions?" Said ThePirateOrc, changing the subject.
"Oh, excuse me, I didn't mean to--"
Cutting me off, Furstreak interjected in his strange feline voice, "It's abowt da principle of life, stupid!! It's abowt meowsic to my ears!"
"What is he talking about?" I asked.
"Don't worry 'bout 'im. He's been like dat since da splice. I don't think letting 'is bloomin friend do it was a good idea," said Hairy. As if agreeing with him, furstreak promptly urinated himself, the liquid loudly splashing on the floor after filling up his chair. He continued to sit where he sat, unmoved, as if he didn't realize what he'd just done.
"Fucking gross," said Hairy, covering his nose. Scooby began to growl, then stopped and continued to lick Hairy's hairy arm.
This entire time Maloteee, the thin kid with the coke bottle glasses had been staring into his own lap. Now, out of nowhere, he spoke up for the first time. "Double sick! You're a t-t-turd, bro. I c-c-can't believe you don't d-d-do something about yourself! I'm s-so s-sick of sm-smuh-smuh-smelling your piss!"
"Aye, it was a bad choice, that splice," agreed Hairy, wistfully as he gazed up at the ceiling, still holding his nose.
"So, you guys really killed a guy in a type 9 so you could split 20 advanced medicines 3 ways?" I asked, a little confused.
ThePirateOrc quickly responded with "Yeah, and we's gonna do it again if we sees anudder 9 like dat!"
"What's the point? I mean, you're killing the guy for like 8,000 cr each. Less than that, even."
"It's about da principeowwwww!" Cried Fursteak, his eyes were wide and he was listing and pivoting his head from side to side rhythmically as if watching an invisible pendulum.
"But you killed a person. Your bounties would cost more than what you would make on that deal."
They stared blankly and stupidly at me for a moment, then at each other. "Well, who cares? I mean ... We needs 'is money. 'e's shouldna .... bought nuffin if he's didn't wants to die." Said Hairy slowly. "besides, he's got the good life, he's a poffer. I don't care if he's gots nuffin in 'is cargoes, I wants it. Dat's why I's don't even use a cargo scanner when I's out killing 9s wiff me backups." Hairy jerked his thumb over his shoulder pointing at the other pirates.
I closed my eyes and shook my head and reopened them as if I didn't believe what I was seeing. "What? That's completely ridiculous," I said.
"No," said ThePirateOrc, "That's da priciple!"
"Da prinicple!" repeated Hairy.
"Principeowwwwwww!" howled furstreak, the end of his words careening into a high pitched screech and punctuated by another spray of piss into the seat of his chair.
"Dat's IT!!" shouted Hairy, banging both fists on the table and rising from his chair with a loud fart. He grabbed the back of his pants and pulled them up over his hairy crack to which I internally gave a small sigh of relief. It was short lived as his pants fell right back down as soon as he let go of them.
"You could use a belt, my friend," I said to Hairy.
Hairy laughed at this. "No one goes to da belts. We's wouldn't find no 9s there!" He was still laughing as he exited the bar, carrying Scooby, who was still lapping lovingly at his hairy arms.
"You can't leave first! I's da leader!" insisted ThePirateOrc, chasing after Hairy.
Malotee rose to his skinny feet, stepping in furstreak's urine puddle. He looked at me and smiled, revealing two rows of crooked, yellowed and eroded teeth. Bowing, he said "Da Priniciple. Now y-you understand." then he exited the bar as well, Furstreak in tow, walking upright, bottom half completely soaked in pungent urine.
I turned back to my table, shaking my head, incredulously. I had never actually met a pirate before that moment. I wondered briefly if they were all like that, but quickly decided that it was impossible. At this point the smell of Furstreak's urine was hitting me like a tsunami of stink and I remembered Hairy standing up while farting and shouting loudly 'Dat's IT!' I decided he was right, that's IS it and left the bar, food only half eaten.
What a day.