Charles Cottonâs criminal life first started shortly after his attempted murder. The life of crime turned out far better for everyone than his honest job. In retrospect, it seemed like destinyâeven though it wasnât. Currently, his destiny seemed to be having a six-inch blade impaled into his crew.
It wasnât a jealous girlfriend, or hired assassin, or even a random mugging. Charles couldnât fathom why his co-worker would want to kill him. Most of his co-workers would jump at the chance to fire Charles, this was different. The Tervoc, a red-furred alien, had just met Charles and he had no idea why sheâof all peopleâwould be the first to try to kill him.
She pulled a knife on him when he reached the trade-line. By sheer luck, he ducked the blade and ran outside.
Charles ran around his freighterâs corridor, shaped like a huge âOâ encircling the inside of his ship. Soft footsteps pattered closely behind. The murderous pitter-patter of kids running down on Christmas Day. The only present Chuck could expect this year was his untimely demise.
Charles said, âStop please!â If he was having a polite conversation he would have said, âCould you please put down the knife. Iâm sure we can come to an understanding.â But he hoped that âStop Please!â would do.
She must have been hired by management. She was his new assistant after all. He never wanted an assistant and if management asked him if he wanted an assistant he would have said, âNo.â There were two reasons for that, Charles liked his privacy and he doesnât get along well with other people. Management hated him for that and if it wasnât for their automated system would have fired him ages ago. If anyone questioned Charles further on his hatred of assistants he would eventually get to the reason of: I donât like threats on my life.
Charles and the woman were on opposite sides of the âOâ corridor. Her voice came from the left and right at the same time.
âItâs nothing personal, Chuck. This ship has a worm-hole ticket to the Yotnewt galaxy and is licensed to carry produce.â While she spoke her voice came louder from the right side. He resented the fact she used the familiar âChuck.â Charles dodged to the left. At the front of the ship was the entrance to his quarters. There he could grab his only weapon, a flame thrower. It was meant to disintegrate stubborn golbolb weeds but it could disintegrate the red rodent right quickly. Only problem would be the cleaning bill, followed by explaining to his boss why he had to kill his co-worker.
Her voice came from the left now, she had changed directions.
âWhy so shy? Iâm happy to tell you what Iâm doing with your ship since I have to kill you anyway.â
The living quarters and cockpit were across from each other. His quarters were a room in the center of the oval corridor. She must be protecting the cockpit, Chuck reasoned. Sure Chuck could call for help at the cockpit but Charles was one to fight back: he had murder on his mind as well.
Silence returned save for the churning hum of the life-support system. Charles kept creeping counter-clockwise around the corridor. If only Charles could remember her name, they had just introduced themselves thirty minutes ago. He hoped sheâwhatever her name wasâwould be going counter-clockwise as well. Or at least he could sneak and see if she was waiting by the cockpit.
They couldnât wait forever, either of them. Eventually, Charles freighter would collide with an asteroid, or worse yet, they would get attacked by disco-pirates. Someone had to make a move. Chuck got his chance first. She wasnât at the front of the ship.
He ran forward to his quarters. There was a false door, part of a two-stage plan to protect his illegal commodities in his room.
The pitter-patter of a running child came from behind. Charles turned around. The red furry menace leapt at him with he knife pointed forward. Two thoughts flashed into Charlesâs head.
She had gone counter-clockwise, as he hoped, but only really fast.
Charles remembered her name, Jessica.
A stone of fear clogged Charlesâs throat. Unarmed against a knife is a hopeless situation. His luck had finally run out. His arms shot forward and caught herâby the bicepsâin mid-leap. She jerked up in his grip and Chuck struggled hard to remain on his feet. Surprise lighted up her face but she kept wrestling regardless.
To his surprise, Jessica had handled a knife before, Charles could tell. They wrestled back-and-forth. All Charles focused on was keeping a grip on her knife arm and keeping said arm as far as possible from his body. Two tumbles later they collapsed side by side.
On the ground, they twisted like lovers under the sheets. Jessica got up first and she would be the one to do all the impaling. Her armânow freeâcame hammer fist down onto Charlesâs chest. Charles twisted and rolled out of the way. The knife tinged off the metal floor.
T-boned from one another, Charles thrust a kick at Jessicaâs head. Her neck snapped sideways. She pulled away and shot him a snarl, tough girl. The knife arcedâSwishâand the tip cut a red line across Charlesâs shin. With the same momentum, she swung again. Charles pulled back and righted himself. Again the knife arced, her arm was pulled back to far, giving Charles a chance.
He charged forward, despite the pain, and grabbed her knife arm again. Now locked arm-in-arm, they pressed against each other. Charles slowly gained the upper hand, but any slip-up or distraction could mean the knife could get free. And instead of a red drawing on his shin, it would be on his chest.
Beep boop beep! A message interrupted the struggle. Someone outside the ship, presumably a different space-ship, was hailing them.
It was a double-edged sword. Immediately, Jessica slipped her arm out and stabbed newly at Charles. Panicked, he stumbled and fell. Dragging Jessica down with him. The knife stabbed the floor under his armpit. After he stabilized the knife arm again, the fight leveled out again. However, this time Jessica was gaining the upper hand.
The other edge of the sword was the message, yes it was a dangerous distraction, but it provided an opportunity for Charles to get help from a passing ship and put an end to her illegal activity. Or rather, activities, murder being one, and Charles presumed she was a smuggler. He found some mediation time as his life flashed before his eyes. A smuggler: why else would she need a wormhole ticket to Yotnewt galaxy? Charles yelled at the cockpit door. Hopefully, the microphone would pick his voice up.
âHelp, help! A stowaway is trying to kill me.â
That wasnât true. He had invited her onto his ship. But surely it was enough to get any respectable traveler to help him. Unless of course there were more than one respectable travelers nearby, then each of them would assume it was the other’s responsibility and wait as Charles got dissected by an alien. Even if was only one traveler, would he be brave enough to break into another ship and fight a psychotic fox woman? But still, Charles reasoned, the odds had now turned into his favor. As long as he kept alive that is.
A female voiceâthough it is hard to tell with so many types of aliens these daysâa female voice radioed in. It clicked and rasped.
âOh, Iâm not going to be much help there hun.â
Charles and Jessica exchanged a confused look. A rare moment of understanding between hunter and hunted. Almost no other reply would have made sense. The voice was chipper.
Then something played over the comms and both of them because terrified.
Disco music.
It was a strange mix of numerous songs but primarily it was TK-songname by Tk-Artist.
Yes, disco music from earth. Earth culture provided very few exports to the universe at large. One was American-Chinese cuisine. Charles was extremely familiar with that one because he was responsible for growing the relevant plants. American-Chinese cuisine was a far and wide delicacy. An affordable delicacy provided Charles worked hard and kept his part of the supply chain going.
Disco music was the other to make a lasting impression of terror on the universe. Disco music signified disco-pirates. They used the music to jam communications while they raided and pillaged and stole and danced their way to financial freedom.
The worst that could happen to Charles would be his ship to be taken, himself robbed of everything, and brainwashed into a disco-slave. The best would be just robbed. Which he could deal with. His secret null-room was sealed, no one would find it. Everywhere else in the ship there would be very little to steal. Just farming equipment, all of which would be covered by his companyâs insurance policy. He could give them Jessica as a disco-slave to make it worth the piratesâ time. He held onto the sliver of hope of him flying away, only robbed, without the murderous Tervoc. It would be easier to explain to his boss anyhow.
Jessica couldnât shake her terror. Understandable, each path available to her was certain doom.
âTheyâre going to board us,â Jessica said, she wasnât looking at Charles. It took him a moment to realize she was talking to him.
âThey might, they might not.â The piratesâ interest depends on what their scanners pick up. Even if they found something they wanted, they could just order them to jettison it. Boarding took time.
Both Jessica and Charles clasped each other’s wrists but they werenât struggling. Chuck noticed an odd necklace that had come free from Jessicaâs shirt. It was a plastic ball that held a shimmering blue stone.
âNo. The pirates will board us. I am a smugglerââ
âAh, my guess was correct.â
âShut up. They will scan what I have and board us.â
âOne: no they donât have to. Weâll just jettison it. Two: what could you possibly have thatâs worth their time. You only had a purse on you.â
âMy purse is full of dandelions,â Jessica said this quickly, not giving it the gravitas it deserved.
Charles now understood why Jessica wanted to kill him. She needed his ship to smuggle the million crown crop to Yotnewt. The aliens of Yotnewtâthe Louslâvalued dandelions as a baking ingredient and psychedelic drug.
Charles nodded understanding. That under-reaction made Jessica explain further.
âNot just any dandelions,â she said, ânon-terminator dandelions.
Terminator plants only produce one crop then the seeds have to be rebought. Non-terminator plants are genetically complete and therefore are far more valuable. Owning a non-terminator DNA profile nullifies the seed monopoly. The owner can provide their own seeds and no longer has to buy them from the DNAâs copyright holder.
Charles’s mouth bobbed open and shut like a gasping fish. âWhatâyou, how!â Xercan has protected the non-terminator dandelion DNA since he bought earth nine-thousand years ago. The Lousl of Yotnewt would pay billions to grow their own. âI donât believe you.â
âYeah well suit yourself. If it wasnât for your meddling I would have delivered it by now.â
âMeddling? By meddling you mean my instinct to keep my blood inside my body.â
âIrrelevant to me⌠Now, the pirates are going to board us. What can we do to keep our skin and perhaps the dandelions as well.â
Charles had a plan. If they had been friends he would have jumped on it by now but he needed her cooperation. But since they werenât he would trick her instead. âOkay, if you donât stab me weâll see what we can do about that. Weâll split the profits ninety ten.â
âAnd how will you do that.â
âThe maintenance panel across the cockpit is a false door. It leads to a null-room.â A scanner-proof room.
âLetâs do it. Ninty for me, ten for you.â
âFlip it, ninety for me, ten for you.â
âThatâs not fair, I risked my life to get those dandeââ
âYouâre not in the position to haggle. Quickly grab the plants and weâll store them away. Then we can pray the pirates havenât scanned our cargo.â
Jessica weighed the situation and nodded. She stood and bolted to the rec-room where she had dropped her purse.
Charles was close on her heels. Jessica realized a half-second too late why he was following her. Charles slammed the control panel to the rec-room. The door closed and locked. Sealing Jessica inside.
âHey, you asshole. What about our deal?â Her door-obscured voice was barely audible over the disco music.
âI weighed my options. You would have betrayed me later.â
âSo now what?â
âSell you into slavery and whatever you have in your purse will hopefully be enough for them to think they havenât wasted their time. Enjoy being a disco-pirate!â
Charles paid no heed to the steam of curses. He walked back to the cockpit, joyfully humming to the music he sat down and hailed the pirate captain. This would be the only time in his life he enjoyed the music of certain doom.
The pirate capital ship was a bulbous floating bright red potato. It menaced with spikes. Radio dishes and transmission towers. Vast, Charles had to zoom out his rear camera to see it all.
âHello, captain. Today is your lucky day. I have a stowaway on my vessel I would like to give to you as payment for free passage. She might have some valuable produce with her, but I doubt it.â Chuck took the moment to look at the cut on his shin. Painful but clotting. It would heal given time.
The musicâs volume lowered. The raspy female voice came on again.
âWell hun, thatâs mighty thoughtful of you. Iâll gladly take a looksie at our new team member and the cash crop he has. Running a quick scanânow.â
Relieved and optimistic, Charles felt playful. He said, âMind turning on your camera, I want to see who this beautiful voice belongs to.â
He was just being kind. The video feed lit up. Charles moved the equipment arm and positioned it where he could see the screen. He flicked on his own camera.
It wasnât just a pirate captain, it was the Pirate Queen Dina. She was a rare alien race of giant spiders. At the end of each arm, she had three nimble fingers. She had mind-altering venom. Her and aliens like her were solely responsible for the disco-pirate menace. Pirate Queen Dina used five arms to disc-jockey the disco music, two arms to operate the ship, and one to sip an iced vanilla soy latte.
âWell hello there beautiful,â Charles said, choking down disgust. Fortunately, reading alien facial expressions was difficult. Chuck hoped Dina hadnât learned to read a humanâs. âIâve heard about you, Pirate Queen Dina.â
Sip. âWell shucks⌠I didnât know I was popular around these here parts. Itâs nice to meet a true fan of my work. Most people I meet are turned inside out in a matter of minutes. I was just passing through, didnât know today would be the best day of my life.â
Charles didnât understand why Dina said that. She was already unfathomably wealthy, and her pirate crew numbered in the millions. Spread out among five capital ships and thousands of dreadnoughts if the reports from the Iroaian Unbiased Truthful News Network were to be believed.
He let it slide, âWell youâve done this a thousand-and-one times before. Come aboard and take this smuggler off me.â
The disco music stopped. âFirst time Iâve been invited on a ship though.â
A shudder marched up Chuckâs spine. Disco-pirates were mind-controlled by a combination of her venom and dance music. He imagined the terror associated with a forced boarding.
Within five minutes the pirate boarded Chuckâs ship. Dina obviously sent out a transport before she was invited. The pirates used a small transport ship. Charles opened the second airlock door, letting the pirates in. Immediately six pirates in red spiky jackets and giant golden reflective glasses danced on board. Huge bulky headphones pumped the music into their ears as their heads snapped in rhythm.
Two more pirates were inside the transport, likely more, Charles couldnât see too far in.
âSheâs right this way,â Charles said, even though there was no chance the pirates could hear him.
The pirates danced their way following Charles. Charles unlocked the rec-room door. Jessica had been pushing the open button, the door hissed open. Gleefully she ran out, knife in hand, purse on the shoulder.
The pirates leapt in her way.
Terrified anew, she ran around the circular corridor. Six pirates were more than necessary to go both ways at once and trap her on the far side.
Charles caught up to them. The pirates took her knife away losing only one finger. Oblivious to the pain, the disco-pirate with five fingers (He originally had six) held the knife by the blade.
âThanks for taking her off my hands.â
âOur pleasure,â The pirate said, Chuck hadnât expected a reply.
Jessica seized the opportunity, âCharles has drugs hidden behind a false door.â
Chuck rushed Jessica, but the pirates held him back. âYou dirty rat!â
âShow me,â the pirate said.
With a scowl, Chuck gave in, better to lose one’s livelihood than life. âRight this way.â
âNot you. Her.â
Jessicaâs arms were bound. The pirates let her lead the way to the hidden roomâChuckâs living quarters. âThis door here.â She glared at Charles. Petty, but she was being sold into slavery.
The pirates opened the first door and saw a machine panel.
âItâs a false panel, push it aside.â
Following Jessicaâs advice, the false door opened and the inside garden was revealed. It was a grow-op fed by sun-panels. Everything inside was illegal but none of them were drugs. The pirates stepped inside to analyze the plunder, they werenât impressed. It seemed that way anyhow, they only ever scowled. Illegal or not didnât matter to them, only valuable did.
Jessica didnât understand what she was looking at. It at just a bed, a kitchen slot, a wall cabinet. The walls were covered in planters with plants spilling out of them. A flame thrower leaned beside the door.
The pirates opened up a wall cabinet and retrieved a box. It was Charles seed container full of his most valuable non-terminator seeds. The pirates would definitely take that, there would be a buyer.
Chuck went to Jessica. The pirates stood in the way of his murderous intent but Chuck didnât need to be restrained this time.
His most precious possession was gone because of her. âI still go free after all this. I might come back just to boogie down with your re-animated corpse.â Charles’s fists tightened as if they were on her throat.
The pirate replied for Jessica, âActually, we are taking you too. Queen Dina wants to make you her husband.â Charles now regretted buttering the Pirate Queen up.
Pirates circled Chuck to tie him up. Fear poured like cold water down his veins. There was no time to think.
The five-fingered pirate still held the knife by the blade. Chuck grabbed the knife and sliced it out of the pirate’s hand. Chuck stabbed at him but he spun out of the way (spinning with a dancerâs poise). Jessica flinched at the knife but Chuck only cut her bonds. He would need her to survive, a temporary ally against the pirates. They both stood by the door. Chuck gave Jessica the knife and she slashed a circle of safety.
Other pirates would board if he didnât shut the boarding door.
They leapt out the room and Jessica locked the door with three pirates inside. Three were in the âOâ corridor, left or right depending on which way one walked.
Meanwhile, Chuck stumbled into the cockpit and closed the airlock doors. Any remaining pirates in the transport would be stuck there. Pain traced a line on his shin. The cut likely reopened. Grabbing the controls, he gunned the freighter away from the transport and hoped they hadnât activated docking clamps. A moment of luck: they hadnât.
Above and behind, Dinaâs capital ship flared to life, the disco music started broadcasting again. Charles and Jessica were now being hunted by the most dangerous criminal in the galaxy. The disco music didnât have to play, Chuck turned off his sound system.
The freighter hauled into acceleration, likely on a collision course with something but Chuck didnât have the time to deal with that. Jessica was losing a fight with three pirates. One of them had his back turned to the cockpit. Chuck seized his head and tore off his headphones. The headphones communicated instructions to the pirates, without it the pirate became catatonic. He fell to the ground limp.
Chuck lunged at another set of headphones, too slow.
The pirate brought a baton on his handâ SMACK âand jumped after him. Chuck stumbled back holding the pirate still for a precious moment. Jessica buried a knife in his neckâs nape.
The corpse flopped aside with a push from Chuck. The last pirate opened the bedroom door.
âI need to pilot us out of here,â Chuck yelled back as he pushed on the pirates back, propelling himself into the cockpit. He closed the cockpit door. Jessica would likely die and the four pirates would eventually kill Chuck.
But none of that would matter if he didnât escape Dinaâs capital ship. The transport wasnât a threat anymore, it didnât have any guns, but there was a possibility the fighter jets would be scrambled. Chuck had the advantage of a surprise but it wouldnât last. The gunâs on the capital ship werenât moving.
Space debris floated directly ahead. Chuck tore a hard right in time.
He needed to make a proper getaway. His only hope was to enter the trade-line. An artificial slipstream that moved slightly faster than light. Before Jessica attacked him, ages ago now, he was about to enter the slipstream. Chuck needed to activate his sails and enter a new matrix. Once in the slipstream, they would be safe.
He connected to the trade-lane buoy.
MRX REQ He typed furiously into the Tradeaway Tradelane App. Matrix Request.
The matrix came and auto-filled a ninety-six character box.
Confirm Matrix Adoption? The app asked.
He slammed yes. The sails opened on the outside of the freighter. Creating a new target for Dina, her guns rotated and charged. Charles wretched the freighter up. Not in evasive maneuver but he was currently below the trade-lane envelope. If he activated the sails outside the trade-line his freighterâand everyone insideâwould be smeared across the galaxy like a childâs finger painting. This also explains the space debris he avoided.
The rear camera displayed the red potato. Several fighter jets had been scrambled and were racing toward him. Those would take a while, he worried about the potatoâs cannons. Rail-guns.
A projectile zipped overhead. It was way off. No way it could hit the ship but she didnât want to hit the ship. She only wanted to disable the sails. Charles folded the sails again. For some reason, Dina wanted him alive. He would activate the sails once in the slipstream.
Everything was looking good. He would be inside the envelope and make a clean getaway. He relaxed for a moment. Had he forgotten something?
âHeeeelp!â Jessica yelled from the corridor. Her voice sounded from left to right without any doppler effectâshe wasnât running fast enough for that. Chuck opened the door in time to see two pirates run past. The other two would be running the other way. It was unlikely Jessica could slip their batons, she might be able to stab one.
Chuck jumped across to his quarters and grabbed his flame-thrower from beside the door. Technically a gardening tool but no less lethal than any other flame-thrower.
His hand clenched the top handle and it swung lazily beside Chuck. He balanced the weight with a heavy list to the left. The flame-thrower roared to life with a wrench on the starting cord. Stepping over the two corpses, he jogged around the corner.
In the back of his mind, he hoped he was in the slipstream. Chuck was busy starting a fire, he didnât need any fires to put out. If the fighters reached him they could shoot off the trade-line sails as they opened up.
His clunky steps alerted the pirates. Jessica was backed against the airlock door. Four pirates surrounded her, twirling batons to inaudible music.
Two of them on Chuckâs side spun around. Chuck closed his eyes. The flame-thrower opened up and shot a white-hot flame knife eight feet long. The pirates flashed into ash. As the heat wave hit, Chuck wished he had his flame suit on. Jessica shielded her eyes from the brilliant light.
The pirates, protected by their heavy glasses, tried to rush Chuck. Jessica barely had the time to stop them. With a clumsy jump, she tripped them up and all three fell in a pile on the floor.
Chuck forced his eyes open.
The two pirates attempted to baton Jessica as they flopped on the floor. Jessica ducked out from their arms. The pirates accidentally bonked each other on their heads.
âRun!â Chuck yelled. Jessica scrambled to her feet and away.
The pirates leapt up and faced chuck. Chuck closed his eyes and revved the flame blade sweeping the floor.
Two pair of smoking boots greeted Chuck when he opened his eyes. Cleaning this whole mess up would be difficult.
Chuck sweat profusely. The spaceshipsâ airconditioning droned with bulking effort. But at least it was all over.
Jessica ran completely around the ship, set her knife against Chuckâs throat, and said dryly. âDrop the flame-thrower.â
Chuck complied. CLUNK! He counted his lucky stars that Jessica hadnât filleted him yet.
Temple of the Seven Silver Seas 