NASTRAGULL: Pirates (9 page)

Nina was dressed with a cream-colored tunic and gray leggings, all overtopped by a long brown coat. The coat was decorated with dried bloodstains and several scalps deriving from as many sentient species. Various bulges under her coat suggested the presence of various unknown weapons. Miska and Mohama still wore their space combat fatigues; and regular hand blasters, similar to Alexa's, decorated their thighs. Their thin, muscular tails twitched like dangerous serpents behind them. From time to time, they snapped them like whips. 

Zuzack glanced at them, his expression unreadable, and jumped up on a large crate that had been placed in the center of the room just for this purpose. He wanted to look over his crew—or rather, down on them—and be heard. He stood there, raised his hands dramatically, and smiled, cheered by the sound of his happy crew egging him on. Then he stopped smiling and lowered his arms, glaring at the defiant group of mostly women off to one side. They glared back. Zuzack made an extravagant gesture with his arms, signaling to his crew to be silent while he turned his eyes away from the women. It took a moment before silence reigned in the audience chamber.

Zuzack loved the knowledge that he had the power of life and death over almost three thousand pirates. He stared down at them, trying to look them all in their eyes, looking, perhaps, for any traitors. He made sure all of them knew that he was their only and ultimate leader. He avoided turning his gaze towards the defiant group of mostly female pirates. Just as he took a deep breath and was about to launch into his speech, he noticed that one of his men was leaning against a pillar with his eyes shut.

Zuzack's eyes narrowed to thin black slits. A female pirate who stood next to the sleeping man gave him a nudge with her shoulder; but by then it was too late, because a millisecond later the sleepy pirate's head exploded, splattering the people around him with gray matter and gore. The rest of him slid quietly to the deck. The female pirate stared, aghast, at what was left of her companion. Her entire front was covered with brains and blood. She looked towards Zuzack, who was holstering one of his blasters, angrily mumbling something about laundry.

Zuzack said loudly, "Well, that means more spoils for me...the rest of you...us...whatever." The only response was nervous laughter from a few of the older and more experienced crew. Zuzack grinned widely, revealing his fangs, and shouted, "My fellow brothers and sisters! We have had a long and successful campaign in this sector, but now it's time to divide the spoils, head for a neutral trade station, and sell it!"

The crew let out a roar of happiness and anticipation, and again Zuzack gestured towards the onlookers, demanding silence. He went on, "The spoils will be divided according to my...
our
tradition, and the rules you all agreed to when you joined up. Now! Since there were a few mishaps with the first catch, and Myra's crew blew up the spoils before we could get to them..."

Myra interrupted Zuzack, and her tone was anything but polite. "Hold on, now, it wasn't our fault that some idiot targeted the fuel tanks. Besides, you know very well that shot was fired from the
Bitch
while I and my lassies were floating through space."

There was an uncomfortable silence in the hangar, and all the pirates looked first at Myra and then back at Zuzack, who looked like he was about to explode. He moved his hand toward the gun at his side, and Myra did the same. Everyone standing between them began to move away, leaving the two huge pirates staring at each other across a wide expanse of steel deck. Sweat pooled on Zuzack's brow and began to slide down his face in fat, greasy drops; if the lizard woman showed any signs of apprehension, none could read it. Finally Zuzack's murderous expression morphed into a false smile and then he said, "But Myra, my dear, if you would let me finish, you wouldn't have to interrupt me, now
would you!
" The last words were shouted, and in response all the women standing around Myra drew their weapons simultaneously and aimed them at Zuzack.

Perhaps half of the pirates in the room didn't move a muscle; the rest drew their weapons and covered Myra and her girls. Zuzack looked the room over calmly; he hadn't yet touched his weapon. He was canny enough to realize that that would have been a death sentence; and though Myra's crew would also most assuredly die in any firefight, it was obvious that he had less support than he had expected. He swore a silent oath about what he would do to anyone who had not supported him in this.

Zuzack's second, an old pirate named Grotech who affected a  white uniform dressed with medals and decorations from a lost time, touched his elbow and said in a low voice, "Relax, my liege." Raising his voice, he called out, "Stand down, people. You are all hardened cutthroats, and some of the best warriors in the universe. We cannot fight among ourselves. Let's not ruin everything we've worked for because an old bitch like Myra demonstrates lack of discipline. You, Myra! You and your crew have been assets to all of us, but if you don't respect the Captain, then you and your tramps will have to fight all of us."

Zuzack made a gesture with his gun hand and added, "Everyone, just put away your weapons." The pirates exchanged glances; but it wasn't over, as the chill in the air attested. Zuzack looked to Grotech with deep appreciation and took a shaky breath, deciding to give the short speech instead of the longer one that he had rehearsed together with Grotech for several
hours. "Let's divide the spoils!" he shouted. The hangar bay filled with a loud cheer as the crew responded with gusto.

Representatives from the various pirate gangs and collectives hurried towards a rank of tables where Grotech and several officers had placed themselves. All of them carried clipboard comps, and dove into the negotiation process with the officers over the unclaimed spoils. Several pirates congratulated Zuzack; he jumped down from his perch and grabbed several pirates by their forearms, returning their greetings. All the while he kept an eye on Myra as she muscled her way through the crowd towards the negotiating tables, apparently ignoring Zuzack.

Alec woke from a fitful sleep as several pirates banged their way into the VIP cargo hold and started hosing down the slave blocks, giving them their first good cleaning in weeks. A one-eyed pirate shouted orders at them, and Alec gathered that his subordinates were supposed to scrub everything down as well as possible and then remove the slave blocks from the hold with their contents intact, healthy, and presentable. After they were more or less clean, Alec and his team were removed from the cargo room, along with five other slave blocks. Over a hundred slave blocks filled with people were left behind.

As the six slave blocks were rolled through the ship, the one-eyed pirate walked up to each of the slaves and checked his or her health status. He noted that one of the prisoners at the end of a slave block had unaccountably died; no matter. He pointed at the dead prisoner, and two other pirates removed the dead man's body. They opened a disposal hatch in the deck and dumped the body into it; it would be recycled or jettisoned at the next opportunity.

The supervisor made a whistling sound as he made a mark on his computer pad, then gestured the procession onward toward a different hangar. Alec and his friends looked around unobtrusively as they went, memorizing as much of the ship's layout as they possible could.

They reached a large docking bay filled mostly to capacity with fighters and shuttles of different sizes and types. As he heard a mechanical grinding start up, Alec craned his head to the left (thank God the electronic restraints were shut off for the trip!) and watched as two vast hangar doors start to slide open. The flickering greenish light across the gap betrayed the presence of an electromagnetic containment field. He could see thousands of pirates in the chamber on the other side, but couldn't hear anything; the shield muffled the sound from the adjacent area. They were heading towards what appeared to be a hatchway piecing the bulkhead next to the shielded hanger door; half a dozen laser beams crisscrossed the hatchway, indicating that it was a death trap for those who tried to cross it. The deadly beams flickered off as he watched, leaving a faint ozone stink permeating the hangar. The guards rolled the slave blocks through the hatch, and suddenly Alec and the other prisoners could hear the full-throated roar of thousands of screaming throats.

After the spoils had been divided and logged into the pirate representatives' clipboards, each returned to his or her group and began the next level of spoils division. Each pirate had his or her individual comp-pad, like the clipboard comps but pocket-sized. As the groups began squabbling among themselves, Grotech sidled up to Zuzack and reported, "There was some hard bargaining, but we came out on top."

Zuzack murmured, "How much more?"
             

"Five points, and three percent over our original half lot. It would have been more, but it's more or less impossible to trick that old bitch Myra, or that sneaky little Crow bastard Sate."

"You have done well, brother; don't you worry about Myra and her little tramps. I'm sure we can come up with something. Now: let's begin the auction for unclaimed spoils."             

"Captain," Grotech said cautiously, "You realized that we still need Myra and her crew? They're the best spacewalkers we've ever had."

"Don't worry. Now, let's get going."

Grotech waved the chrome hook at the end of his right hand toward Hughes, who hurried up to him. "Lieutenant! Start auctioning off the leftover spoils, and get the slave blocks down here."
Hughes nodded, raised his left arm in what was supposed to be a salute, and pressed a button on his belt.

Several pirates emerged from the adjoining hangar, guiding carriers stacked with heavy chests and boxes filled with clothes, jewelry, medical supplies, and equipment. They were brought up to a spot before Zuzack's location, whereupon Hughes whistled sharply to get everyone's attention. He shouted out, "Lovelies! It's time to auction off all the leftover spoils that no one has claimed!"

The pirates surged forward with happy cries as Hughes held up a beautiful red silk dress. He barked out a price, and the auction took off. The officers started to hand out syringes, pills, and flasks of alcohol from the common shares to anyone who wanted it—and most did, accepting the gesture with wild smiles on their faces. It was at this point that the slave blocks were brought in and lined up on a ramp behind Zuzack and Grotech. The one-eyed pirate and his team had covered the slave blocks and their contents with sheets, concealing their contents.

The auction just a few meters away was taking its time, and the pirates were becoming rougher and louder. A few minor fights broke out, but the secondary officers put an end to most of them quickly. Then someone pulled a knife, his victim fell down bleeding, and before long some of the pirates were betting on the fights, the auction forgotten. Just as things began to spiral out of control, Zuzack stepped back up onto his perch and raised his hands high. The crowd begun to calm down, except for some creative swearing from a few individuals. Zuzack patted his holster meaningfully and stared at the troublemakers, and soon there was a complete silence.

"Thank you! Thank you, everyone. Now, for the second-best thing we've all been waiting for." Zuzack leered. "It's time to auction off the last remaining lot: the unclaimed slaves." Again, the entire crowd screamed its approval. 

Zuzack stepped to the side of the first block as Hughes took his place at the center and removed the sheet. The pirates stop cheering; the slave block contained only an older couple. Hughes announced, "Here is an Ambassador from Florencia and his ugly wife. They will assuredly have a fine ransom. We will begin at one hundred thousand credits for both of them."

The block was moved forward on the platform at the end of the ramp for everyone to see. A serious silence settled over the crowd. A few of the older and more experienced pirates began to shout out their bids, though most of their compatriots watched with dulled expressions and a decided lack of interest.

After the old couple was sold, another block was brought up and the covering whisked away. "And here," Hughes explained, "we have the Ambassador's children. Three daughters, ages nine, twelve and seventeen; and two sons. The youngest is seven—and lo and behold, the oldest is seventeen, and he is a twin to his sister."

The Ambassador's wife began crying hysterically as their block was led away by the man and woman who had purchased them. The Ambassador screamed at his new owners,  "Please listen to me, I beg of you! Don't let them separate our children from us! Buy them, and I promise we will compensate you, I swear!"

The two pirates looked at each other, then shook their heads simultaneously and moved on as the ambassador shouted out his protests. His wife had fainted.

The pirates launched a spirited bidding war for the ambassador's children, several demanding that the twins be sold as one lot. Hughes looked at Zuzack, who nodded his head in consent. The bidding continued, and Nina put in a bid for the twins. She asked Alexa for a loan, and her friend agreed; but Myra outbid them, and the twins ultimately went to her.

Alexa shrugged. "Sorry, but I couldn't go higher."

Disappointed, Nina replied, "I know. But those twins, combined with the Governor and his family that we captured earlier..." She sighed heavily. "I just thought it could be our ticket out of here. But I also know that you have your heart set on that soldier-boy."

The third block was brought up on the podium and the cover whisked aside. The crowd went wild when they saw the contents: ten beautiful young girls wearing only white thin tunics—and wet ones, at that. The poor girls on the block stared at the pirates in horror, and some began to
cry and whimper. Hughes began his spiel: "Here we have ten lovelies from the infamous world of Marengo. They are all virgins belonging to the Oman species: we have different types, as you can see, from dark to pale in different levels. These ladies belonged to a wealthy family, and are trained in the art of seduction. We think they can be worth a great deal of credits, and can sell them to you individually or as a  lot. The entire lot begins at thirty thousand credits; are there any bids?"