It Just Fell off a Cargo Ship...
22 Mar 2021Tharik Otoli
The Adventures of Prince Tharik Otoli: Space PirateFollow this link for the full anthology!
PIPI
PIPI I
CARSON TERMINAL
The Pipi system, one of many mining colonies on the edge of the bubble under the sway of - and beset by taxes from - the powerful criminal syndicate, the Kumo Crew. A mere two months earlier the Yuror Front, an authoritarian Imperial military faction, had ousted control of the system from the an oddly named Olwynn Incorporated, not be a corporate entity at all, but an independent democracy committed to the ideals of freedom and self-representation. But now, the entire system was in a state of all-out war. Several of the resident camps were vying for control as the local economy had completely crashed hurling some one hundred and forty million human beings - mostly miners and colonists who had hoped for a better life on the frontier - into an extremely precarious situation to say the least.
The root cause of the chaos was largely unclear, but suspicions did fall upon another otherwise largely inconsequential mining colony that had recently been overrun by a ragtag band of adventurers, gunslingers, and rouges - a crew of ne'er-do-wells led by a flamboyant minor noble known for his boundless ego and complete lack of regard for fair-play, and yet still admired for his social graces and handsome features. We join the story about two weeks prior to the current day, with the arrival of a small wing of cargo ships piloted by a slew of knaves.
An attractive young woman who was serving as the harbormaster and representative of the Yuror Front smiled broadly. She was dressed in a sharp and well-pressed military uniform typical of her faction, her blonde locks were neatly pulled back into a bun and she wore little makeup presenting a professional and clean-cut look, "Well you all do have trustworthy faces! We are very eager to move these precious metals to their buyers!"
One of three very gruff looking men, who was himself sporting an unkempt beard and wearing a threadbare jacket, leered back at the woman, "Aye, I bet ye are. No doubt we be the ones that ye need!"
The woman felt slightly uncomfortable at the men's stares, but this was typical. Spacers were a solitary lot and cargo haulers especially lacked manners. She made her best effort to keep her demeanor and preserved, "It's so exciting! You all showed up at a most opportune time! Our economy is booming. We have about 20,000 tons of gold, silver, and palladium to transport just today!"
The second man was equally disheveled with a dark complexion, a large goatee, and an elaborate design shaved into his hair. He was known only by his callsign among his comrades - "Razor." He perked up, his eyes widening, "That be a great deal of loot... err, I mean's product. Thar be more tomorrow?" The first man, Ben "Mimic" May, jabbed his elbow into Razor's side as the rogue misspoke.
There was something about these men that did not seem right. The girlish woman put it out of her mind though, they certainly seemed eager and the many shipments were already overdue. What could possibly go wrong after all? "Oh certainly sir. At least that much again tomorrow, maybe more," hopefully they would even be willing to ferry the coming shipments over the next several days.
The third man, a young, tall and slim pilot with deep brown eyes and oily black hair stepped forward slightly. His attire was much newer and cleaner than those of his comrades and he spoke with a Slavic accent, "what if, forrr example, goods didn't rrreach zeirrr intended destination?"
"Well Commander... Flor," the woman said glancing at the name on his well-kept flight suit, "...as you know this is a very valuable product and took a great deal of time for our miners to extract. If you were to fail to complete this contract you would be fined heavily."
Razor chuckled, "Oi, a fine ye say? Like someone would be chasing I around yon sizable galaxy trying to bring I back to this’n here system?” This time Commander May harmlessly kicked him on his ankle but it was enough for Razor to growl, "What?"
Again misgivings formed in the woman's mind, but the leggy slender one was very handsome and how could such a dapper, clean-shaven man be anything but honest, "Well yes, naturally. But we don't have to worry about that do we?" The woman paused regrading the blank looks on the faces of the three men, "I understand you gentlemen have two Fleet Carriers waiting just outside the station to transport our goods. I can't imagine a safer arrangement."
Ben May cleared his throat in an attempt to disguise what would otherwise have been a loud chortle, "Aye, 'tis true indeed. Your booty be safe with us! The fearsome... I mean trustworthy Resolute as well as the Maersk Alabama stands ready to assist ye."
The comely harbormaster grinned broadly, "Why does that name sound so familiar," she shrugged. As far as she was concerned this was a fortuitous turn of events indeed, "Wonderful Commander! Sign right here. Pleasure doing business with you!"
"Aye, so glad there be people as naïve as ye," Razor barely finished the sentence when Ben slapped him hard in the back of the head earning a cold glare from Razor.
The charming representative was quite unsure what she had just heard. "Sorry," she asked.
The quick witted Oliver Flor responded right away, "He said zank you and ve vill see you again soon. HUZZAHH!"
Over the course of the next two weeks, the treasures unearthed from the mines of the Pipi system were quickly loaded onto the waiting Fleet Carriers. Imperial Corsair Commanders Ben "Mimic" May, "Razor", and Oliver Flor were never seen in the Pipi System again. As well, very sadly, the beautiful representative of the Yuror Front was later killed in action, a casualty in one of the many resultant wars. A tragic tale and a lesson to all, never judge a book by it's cover and always get a reference.
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