Her father used to call her his “pirate princess,’ and now finally he was kind of right. I was definitely a mutineer for her.
The rest of my crew were law enforcement, except for the part where they were just pirates with a license.
She and I were salvagers, in the end. That got us through to the Scout Base — and the rest was for the lawyers to sort out.
...
Piracy attempt disrupts Boughene Station ahead of GDC Fest, reads the almost month-old headline on my pad. The Gravitic Daisy Carnival almost doubles the station’s population some years, so I hope it's all been sorted by now. I lean back into the couch, looking across the cozy passenger lounge. Out of the corridor, my newfound partner in crime Veronica strides in – all crazy-eyes and fur like jumpspace, in a white halter top and miniskirt. It’s good to see her – she’s been hiding out in her stateroom since we boarded a few hours ago.
Aside from catching up with news, I’d been chatting with our escort pilots – Jeff on the Polo, and Kim on Sparklepony. Jeff is doubling back to Feri about now, while Kim will be riding with us all the way to Jump Limit — but Jumping to Roup instead of with us to Boughene when the Layla LaShell lights off her stardrives. The Scouts sent them along to see us safely out to the line. They’re not up to a fight, but if the locals try anything, they’d report it to the Duke at Regina, with consequences following in their wake. Seems to suffice so far – we’ve not been followed.
They offered local gossip about Feri, exchanged for the now-secret details on how Veronica and I “salvaged” the Fast Trader Duck Duck Gone out from under the official privateer/pirates using it to steal her Far Trader. Picking up a bit of fame, we are — and adding yet another world to the List of Places I Can’t Go Back To. I shake my head ruefully; I know, it’s a job hazard.
Veronica (it’s not really her name, but if you say “Veronica Aguirre” in Galanglic, then write it down in Gvegh, it’s remarkably close) walks up; I greet her, set the pad down and offer my right hand. She takes it, spins in place with a sweep of her fluffy tail and sits next to me – my arm now somehow wrapped around her waist. Huh. Nice.
She looks at me with her crazy eyes – the left one is amber; the right, blue – and asks, “Hey Piers, could you scratch my back please?”
“Veronica,” I ask, “is this some kind of come-on?”
“Nah,” she says brightly. “If it was a come-on, I’d have sat on your lap and asked you to scratch my hips. You know I don't do subtlety. Besides, you’re an alien.”
Alien? She’s the -- oh, right, goes both ways. “Got it,” I laugh. Her fur is thick, layered, and very soft. That halter top both floats above her fur and yet seems to still provide support – clever tech, even if I can't figure out how it's done. She snuggles comfortably into me as I apply my best efforts. Humans and canines have been together since before Grandfather uplifted Vargr from Earth’s proto-wolves a few hundred millennia ago then scattered both them and us to the stars, and I suppose this is part of the reason…
“What’ve you been up to?” I ask. My Gvegh pronunciation’s a bit rusty.
“Personal goods inventory,” she replies – Gvegh’s not her first language either. Her swirled fur pattern and half-break ears mark her as an Akumgeda Vargr, not Gvegh. That type's known for luck, though not as much as the mythical albino Roth Thokken space-wolf wizards. And I have to admit, my presence on Duck during the incident was pretty lucky for her. Didn’t work out too badly for me either, come to think of it.
“If they keep the Bay of Wolf," she declares, "I want my stuff back! So I wrote it up, organized it, and sent the list back with Sparklepony when they started braking for the run back to Feri.”
“Good plan. I have no idea how that’s going to turn out. Director Preston at Scout Base Feri forced the Windsor government to credit you with the ship’s equity, so they may end up keeping the hull. He also said they’re going to try to get the Duck Duck Gone re-registered based on its stolen scoutship avionics suite to claim it as a Scout Service asset.”
Puzzlement tilts her head. “Wait, what?”
“That’s why I was on board in the first place. The goons got a letter of marque for the Duck for Customs work, but couldn’t make its scanners work properly. That felt sketchy, not sure what the deal was there. Whatever, anyhow... Me, just out of the Scouts, figured out that the avionics were ripped from a scoutship lost a few years back, outside Imperial Space. Used the fallback codes to get it working properly, so they hired me on probation. You know how that worked out," I said with a grin and pulled her close. "We caught us some pirates there, even if their papers made it legal."
“Piers, you saved my life back there – I walked right into their trap.”
“Veronica,” I reply, “You were trying to rescue us. You didn’t know they were lying about the reactor failure.”
“Bored, lonely, and wanting the hero’s ego boost isn’t the smartest way to run a starship,” she said ruefully. Vargr, I remember, are never that self-effacing.
“Hey, are you doing all right?” I ask, concerned.
“Not really,” she replies, staring at me from point-blank range. “I’ve lost my ship, and...”
“And what?” I’m not great with Vargr para-language, but she’s definitely agitated.
‘And… This is hard for me to say.” She paused to gather herself. “I, Veronica Aguerre, owe you my life – I owe you everything, Piers. Thank you.” Puppy-dog eyes now? WTF?
I take a deep breath. “Veronica, I understand what you’re saying, but really I only did what I had to do.”
“But why did you do it? You aren’t in the Scouts any more, and you had a designated role as a crewmember. Humans follow who they’re supposed to follow, not the most worthy leaders – so why did you betray them? I know I don’t have the Charisma to have turned you, even if humans could notice it in the first place. So, why?”
“Never really trusted them – it was a job, nothing more. I think they were trying to blackmail me into their goon club. If I’d cooperated in stealing your ship, they’d have had me. But killing for money, even a multi-megacredit share — I can’t do that. Besides, I recognized you from back when the Scouts were doing the customs inspections last year; you didn’t deserve that. The goons shouldn’t even tried to pretend you were a blockade runner.”
“Wait, you were on Mord’s Fustang, right?”
“Yes. I didn’t pick the name. Anyhow, once they had you aboard and handcuffed, and all went over to your ship and discovered that you really didn’t have any crew to be inconvenient witnesses it was clear what they planned to do. Cartoonishly inept evil is still evil, and I wanted no part of it.
“And besides,” I continue, “wasn’t it your idea to claim the Duck as salvage to begin with?”
“It still hadn’t quite sunk in yet that they’d faked the whole thing. I’d brought the deuterium primers over to kickstart the power plant, and thought it would really be a salvage op!”
“Those primers came in handy for our prompt getaway! Glad we had them.”
“But why did the starport authorities believe us, and call off that Sparrow-class fighter? It could have intercepted us before we got down to orbit.”
“They didn’t. But I’d beamed realtime comms logs to the Scout Base, and Director Preston forced them to accept the salvage claim once he knew the real story. They had no choice, he’d have gone public with the customs contractors’ piracy attempt. I think Preston’s played this game before, too…
“Anyhow, what happened to your crew? You weren’t alone the last time I saw you, and I know that Vargr aren’t normally – um — lone wolves.”
------
Writer's note:
This is Amateur-Kofiev, not Prokofiev.
1. Peter leaves the meadow gate open, gets yelled at over it.
2. Next day, Peter takes the duck out along with a bird.
3. Wolf gets the duck, but not the bird.
4. Peter gets the wolf (and the duck may still be ok, having been swallowed whole).
Writer's Footnote:
The Layla LaShell is a Type R2 Subsidized Merchant, AKA Big Far Trader. Basically it's a Type R with a matched set of Size D Drives and some of the cargo hold replaced by fuel tanks.
Veronica's starship, the Bay of Wolf, is a Type A2 Far Trader. (Might be a single-hardpoint 199Td version if you insist.)
The Duck Duck Gone is a Gypsy Queen-class Fast Far Trader (199Td, J2/6G) with some bodged battle damage repairs..
In my headcanon (ATU), Akumgeda Vargr have a single copy of the gene for merle coloration, which in Vargr is correlated with psionic ability. Double-merle (lethal white) is correlated with severe birth defects (albinism, blindness, deafness) but very strong psionic ability in the survivors -- this explains the Roth Thokken.
They also have half-break ears (like Collies and Australian Shepards) because I think that looks cool.
The rest of my crew were law enforcement, except for the part where they were just pirates with a license.
She and I were salvagers, in the end. That got us through to the Scout Base — and the rest was for the lawyers to sort out.
...
Piracy attempt disrupts Boughene Station ahead of GDC Fest, reads the almost month-old headline on my pad. The Gravitic Daisy Carnival almost doubles the station’s population some years, so I hope it's all been sorted by now. I lean back into the couch, looking across the cozy passenger lounge. Out of the corridor, my newfound partner in crime Veronica strides in – all crazy-eyes and fur like jumpspace, in a white halter top and miniskirt. It’s good to see her – she’s been hiding out in her stateroom since we boarded a few hours ago.
Aside from catching up with news, I’d been chatting with our escort pilots – Jeff on the Polo, and Kim on Sparklepony. Jeff is doubling back to Feri about now, while Kim will be riding with us all the way to Jump Limit — but Jumping to Roup instead of with us to Boughene when the Layla LaShell lights off her stardrives. The Scouts sent them along to see us safely out to the line. They’re not up to a fight, but if the locals try anything, they’d report it to the Duke at Regina, with consequences following in their wake. Seems to suffice so far – we’ve not been followed.
They offered local gossip about Feri, exchanged for the now-secret details on how Veronica and I “salvaged” the Fast Trader Duck Duck Gone out from under the official privateer/pirates using it to steal her Far Trader. Picking up a bit of fame, we are — and adding yet another world to the List of Places I Can’t Go Back To. I shake my head ruefully; I know, it’s a job hazard.
Veronica (it’s not really her name, but if you say “Veronica Aguirre” in Galanglic, then write it down in Gvegh, it’s remarkably close) walks up; I greet her, set the pad down and offer my right hand. She takes it, spins in place with a sweep of her fluffy tail and sits next to me – my arm now somehow wrapped around her waist. Huh. Nice.
She looks at me with her crazy eyes – the left one is amber; the right, blue – and asks, “Hey Piers, could you scratch my back please?”
“Veronica,” I ask, “is this some kind of come-on?”
“Nah,” she says brightly. “If it was a come-on, I’d have sat on your lap and asked you to scratch my hips. You know I don't do subtlety. Besides, you’re an alien.”
Alien? She’s the -- oh, right, goes both ways. “Got it,” I laugh. Her fur is thick, layered, and very soft. That halter top both floats above her fur and yet seems to still provide support – clever tech, even if I can't figure out how it's done. She snuggles comfortably into me as I apply my best efforts. Humans and canines have been together since before Grandfather uplifted Vargr from Earth’s proto-wolves a few hundred millennia ago then scattered both them and us to the stars, and I suppose this is part of the reason…
“What’ve you been up to?” I ask. My Gvegh pronunciation’s a bit rusty.
“Personal goods inventory,” she replies – Gvegh’s not her first language either. Her swirled fur pattern and half-break ears mark her as an Akumgeda Vargr, not Gvegh. That type's known for luck, though not as much as the mythical albino Roth Thokken space-wolf wizards. And I have to admit, my presence on Duck during the incident was pretty lucky for her. Didn’t work out too badly for me either, come to think of it.
“If they keep the Bay of Wolf," she declares, "I want my stuff back! So I wrote it up, organized it, and sent the list back with Sparklepony when they started braking for the run back to Feri.”
“Good plan. I have no idea how that’s going to turn out. Director Preston at Scout Base Feri forced the Windsor government to credit you with the ship’s equity, so they may end up keeping the hull. He also said they’re going to try to get the Duck Duck Gone re-registered based on its stolen scoutship avionics suite to claim it as a Scout Service asset.”
Puzzlement tilts her head. “Wait, what?”
“That’s why I was on board in the first place. The goons got a letter of marque for the Duck for Customs work, but couldn’t make its scanners work properly. That felt sketchy, not sure what the deal was there. Whatever, anyhow... Me, just out of the Scouts, figured out that the avionics were ripped from a scoutship lost a few years back, outside Imperial Space. Used the fallback codes to get it working properly, so they hired me on probation. You know how that worked out," I said with a grin and pulled her close. "We caught us some pirates there, even if their papers made it legal."
“Piers, you saved my life back there – I walked right into their trap.”
“Veronica,” I reply, “You were trying to rescue us. You didn’t know they were lying about the reactor failure.”
“Bored, lonely, and wanting the hero’s ego boost isn’t the smartest way to run a starship,” she said ruefully. Vargr, I remember, are never that self-effacing.
“Hey, are you doing all right?” I ask, concerned.
“Not really,” she replies, staring at me from point-blank range. “I’ve lost my ship, and...”
“And what?” I’m not great with Vargr para-language, but she’s definitely agitated.
‘And… This is hard for me to say.” She paused to gather herself. “I, Veronica Aguerre, owe you my life – I owe you everything, Piers. Thank you.” Puppy-dog eyes now? WTF?
I take a deep breath. “Veronica, I understand what you’re saying, but really I only did what I had to do.”
“But why did you do it? You aren’t in the Scouts any more, and you had a designated role as a crewmember. Humans follow who they’re supposed to follow, not the most worthy leaders – so why did you betray them? I know I don’t have the Charisma to have turned you, even if humans could notice it in the first place. So, why?”
“Never really trusted them – it was a job, nothing more. I think they were trying to blackmail me into their goon club. If I’d cooperated in stealing your ship, they’d have had me. But killing for money, even a multi-megacredit share — I can’t do that. Besides, I recognized you from back when the Scouts were doing the customs inspections last year; you didn’t deserve that. The goons shouldn’t even tried to pretend you were a blockade runner.”
“Wait, you were on Mord’s Fustang, right?”
“Yes. I didn’t pick the name. Anyhow, once they had you aboard and handcuffed, and all went over to your ship and discovered that you really didn’t have any crew to be inconvenient witnesses it was clear what they planned to do. Cartoonishly inept evil is still evil, and I wanted no part of it.
“And besides,” I continue, “wasn’t it your idea to claim the Duck as salvage to begin with?”
“It still hadn’t quite sunk in yet that they’d faked the whole thing. I’d brought the deuterium primers over to kickstart the power plant, and thought it would really be a salvage op!”
“Those primers came in handy for our prompt getaway! Glad we had them.”
“But why did the starport authorities believe us, and call off that Sparrow-class fighter? It could have intercepted us before we got down to orbit.”
“They didn’t. But I’d beamed realtime comms logs to the Scout Base, and Director Preston forced them to accept the salvage claim once he knew the real story. They had no choice, he’d have gone public with the customs contractors’ piracy attempt. I think Preston’s played this game before, too…
“Anyhow, what happened to your crew? You weren’t alone the last time I saw you, and I know that Vargr aren’t normally – um — lone wolves.”
------
Writer's note:
This is Amateur-Kofiev, not Prokofiev.
1. Peter leaves the meadow gate open, gets yelled at over it.
2. Next day, Peter takes the duck out along with a bird.
3. Wolf gets the duck, but not the bird.
4. Peter gets the wolf (and the duck may still be ok, having been swallowed whole).
Writer's Footnote:
The Layla LaShell is a Type R2 Subsidized Merchant, AKA Big Far Trader. Basically it's a Type R with a matched set of Size D Drives and some of the cargo hold replaced by fuel tanks.
Veronica's starship, the Bay of Wolf, is a Type A2 Far Trader. (Might be a single-hardpoint 199Td version if you insist.)
The Duck Duck Gone is a Gypsy Queen-class Fast Far Trader (199Td, J2/6G) with some bodged battle damage repairs..
In my headcanon (ATU), Akumgeda Vargr have a single copy of the gene for merle coloration, which in Vargr is correlated with psionic ability. Double-merle (lethal white) is correlated with severe birth defects (albinism, blindness, deafness) but very strong psionic ability in the survivors -- this explains the Roth Thokken.
They also have half-break ears (like Collies and Australian Shepards) because I think that looks cool.
Last edited:
