Space Pirate: A Story [Part 3]

By Darth Nat 2004

Part III: Regular or Decaf

A small, rickety space ship slowly made its way through the galaxy. The ship looked like something that should be sent to the local landfill as quickly as possible or dismantled into a coaster set. The ship vaguely resembled an eagle in shape, but the wings were beginning to look ragged and the once-sharp nose was now more of something you would see on a dolphin with a broken nose. The paint, which was shoddily done to begin with, was peeling off, but the words "Galactic Federation Police" could still be made out.

Inside of the sorry spacecraft were two equally sorry Federation police officers. One sat in the pilot's seat, but was wearing his cap over his face and had his feet propped up on the dashboard. The other officer was busy sniffing a cup of richly colored coffee in a mug with the sentence "I landed on Zebes and survived!" written on it. The ship was silent except for the low hum of the rather inefficient engines.

"Would you like some?" the police officer with the mug said, breaking the silence.

There was another brief silence. "No," said the other officer without moving. There was a hint of anger and frustration in his voice.

"But it's good stuff," the officer with the coffee said, waving it around the other officer's capped head.

"I'm not talking to you, remember Chester?" the capped officer said.

"You mean you're still not going to talk to me?" Chester said dejectedly. "Come on, that happened days ago, Ralph."

"Chester, you turned our hyperdrive into a coffee machine," Ralph said angrily. "How the hell are we supposed to get back to headquarters without a hyperdrive? Huh? Can we just plug in your coffee machine and zip right on home? No, Chester, no we can't."

"You make it sound as if it was all my fault," Chester accused.

"It was all your fault!" Ralph roared, swiping the hat from his face and turning to look disapprovingly at Chester.

"I seem to remember someone saying he would kill for a good cup of coffee."

"Chester, there's a big difference between murder and dismantling a man's hyperdrive just for the sake of a good cup of joe."

"Come on, just try some of the coffee, Ralph, I know you'll like it once you taste it."

Smelling the luscious scent, Ralph finally gave in. "Well, okay, but I won't like it!"

Chester handed him the steaming mug. Ralph took a sip, savored the flavor a moment, and then gulped down some more. "Good, huh?" Chester said with a smile.

"Well, yeah, it really is quite good," Ralph said, obviously enjoying the coffee. Suddenly, Ralph felt like a chess master who was just checkmated in four moves. "But a hyperdrive would be better!" he quickly stated.

"So, how long will it take us to get home without that hyper doohicky?" Chester inquired.

"Oh, only about two-thousand five-hundred eighty-nine years," Ralph said, and his angered boiled up once again.

"But we'll have plenty of coffee for the journey," Chester replied.

Ralph put his head in his hands. "You're missing the point, Chester."

"What's that?"

"We'll be pushing daisies before we even get close to our home galaxy!"

"Sorry, Ralph, I have no interest in gardening."

"Not gardening, you moron! Dead, deceased, long gone!"

"Oh."

"Oh? All you have to say to our eminent demise is 'oh'?"

"Actually, I was commenting on how I should have put one more lump into this cup of coffee." For reasons that eluded Chester, Ralph began to feverishly beat his head against the dashboard of the space ship.

"Don't WHAM you WHAM realize WHAM?" Ralph said as he repeatedly hit his head against the hard surface. A rather large and unsightly red spot was forming on his forehead. "We WHAM won't WHAM make WHAM it WHAM home WHAM without WHAM the WHAM hyperdrive!"

"Well, I could build us a hyperdrive, if you want," Chester said nonchalantly.

"WHAT!?" Ralph said as he stopped reprimanding the dashboard with his forehead and looked at Chester with his mouth hanging open.

"Yeah, I could build us another hyperdrive. All I would need to do is dismantle the main computer and right engine." Ralph immediately resumed his battle against the dashboard. Chester could only wonder what the poor thing had done to him.

---

The foliage was thick in the forest that the Shadow Pirate crept through. Careful not to make the slightest sound, he slowly worked his way past the Federation fort that was mere meters away. One false move, and the sentries would spot him. He could use his cloaking device, but that would use up precious energy that he needed to sneak in a defenseless access door on the other side of the fort. So, he opted to use his expert stealth tactics to enter the fort unnoticed.

Slowly but surely, he bound through the forest, coming ever closer to his target. He could see the others in his party off in the distance with his exceptional vision. There was Gruhar, the heavy weapons specialist of the barbarian race of T'ruk, Weymoth, the amazing magic wielder from UX-901, and Keldir, the master of animals, beasts, and nature, who oddly preferred to adventure with a small ice elemental. They would back him up when he completed his objective of opening the main gate to the fortress.

Suddenly, he noticed that the path ahead of him was full of dry leaves! These leaves would make enough noise to wake the dead if he stepped on them in the wrong way. It was all down to chance now. Were his skills great enough to get him past this trial? Sweat dripped down his forehead. Putting his very life in the hands of chance, he stepped out on to the leaves. Suddenly, as if it came from another world, the words "A TWO?!" rang out and echoed throughout the surrounding area.

"I rolled A TWO!?" Corporal Slobberjaw shouted out as he looked at the forty-seven sided die in front of him.

Private Blurgar leaned across the table and looked at the die. "That's what it says," he said. "And you needed at least a ten to cross the leaves without alerting the guards. It appears your 'crossing dry leaves' check has failed."

"It's...it's...it's highway robbery!" Slobberjaw said. "How could I possibly roll a two? I've been cheated!" More arguing ensued.

The strange events you have just experienced are part of a strange phenomenon known as "Moons & Metroids". This is what the Space Pirates refer to as an "RPE", or Role-Playing Experience (not to be confused with the commonly used weapon, the Rocket-Propelled Elephant). In these experiences, the Space Pirates take on the role of an imaginary character in a fictional world and proceed to role dice for the rest of the evening. For some reason that eludes rational thought, the Space Pirates enjoy playing these games for hours in order to pass the time. Perhaps they enjoy pretending that they are strong, powerful creatures who go up to other strong, powerful creatures and begin throwing dice at one another, screaming "Blood loss check!" or "Spontaneous kidney failure check!" every now and then.

To understand this game, one must first examine its history. The game was introduced into the Space Pirate society decades ago, and it soon became the game of choice for those youngsters who had vivid imaginations or whose parents were too cheap to buy cable. These children were whisked away to a land of enchantment, honor, love, dice, and the occult. The game began receiving bad press because the incredibly conservative part of the populace felt that it led to obsession, which it did. But hey, who can argue with sales figures?

The game, despite being controversial, soon rose to be insanely popular among the Space Pirate populace. In fact, several conflicts were solved all because of this very game. The traditional duel with weapons was considered archaic and Pirates settled disputes through games of Moons & Metroids. Instead of turning back to back, taking ten paces, and blow each other's brains out, the Pirates would play games of Moons & Metroids, then blow each other's brains out. All in all, it was good, wholesome entertainment for the entire family.

Our favorite group of Space Pirates particularly enjoyed the game. They would spend hours playing into the night. However, their games often erupted into arguments that eventually led to bodily harm or even death. In fact, it would not be an over exaggeration to say that Moons & Metroids has led to more cumulative casualties than the sworn enemy of the Space Pirates, Samus Aran. The Space Pirates take their roleplaying very seriously.

Corporal Slobberjaw, after forgetting about his uproar over rolling a two moments before, suddenly asked "Say, what ever happened to that Rahrgus guy who used to play as the Parcheesian Rat Ninja?"

Right about now, you're thinking "Oh no, it's time for the flashback that happens in every chapter and includes some wacky event that doesn't make any sense at all." Well, thinking this over, the author has left a note for all you readers out there: shut up and deal with it.

It had been several weeks ago that Private Rahrgus had played his last game of Moons & Metroids. The Pirates had been waiting for a pizza on this night as well. They had ordered it from Speedy's Faster-Than-Light Pizza Company Inc., and it is common knowledge throughout the universe that how long one must wait for food is directly proportional to how fast it is supposed to be. Needless to say, the Pirates had been waiting for some time. Like any normal group of Pirates, they had broken out the Moons & Metroids and had passed the time arguing over whether a Chain Beamsaw required the roll of one thirty-sided die or two fifteen-sided dice.

"It's obviously one thirty-sided die," Slobberjaw said.

"No way," Private Rahrgus, who was the one who wanted to use the Chain Beamsaw, said, "it is definitely two fifteen-sided dice."

Private Blurgar, who was acting as the Moon Master, was busy sorting through his various, and rather expensive, rulebooks. "It says here," he began, following his finger across the page with his eyes, "that you are supposed to use four seven-and-a-half-sided dice."

"That's preposterous!" Slobberjaw screamed, rising from the card table. "Why the hell does he get to roll four dice when I only get to roll one with my Laser Sword of Hurty Dismemberment?"

"Are you saying that you're better than me?" Private Rahrgus roared, letting his fiery temper get the best of him.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying," Slobberjaw answered, pounding the table.

"You want to back those big words up with actions, tough guy?" Rahrgus yelled.

This created quite the comical scene since Slobberjaw was roughly five-foot seven-inches whereas Rahrgus was six and a half feet tall. With a roar of primal fury, Slobberjaw leap across the card table the game was being played on and proceeded to bounce back across it after having a serious discussion with Rahrgus's left fist. Slobberjaw staggered to his feet, and leap across the table once again to discuss matters with Rahrgus's other hand. Not liking where things were going, Rahrgus's left fist knocked his block off as well as making a dentist somewhere very happy about having Slobberjaw as a patient. Flying backwards, Slobberjaw landed on the card table, breaking it in half and sending Blurgar's collection of very expensive guides and manuals shooting across the room.

It's funny how things in the universe always manage to work out. In the distant future, a miserable and dying race were preparing to send a message back to their ancestors about how to avoid a deadly civil war that would forever cripple their race and leave them miserable for the rest of their pathetic existence. After reviewing the message, they came to the unanimous conclusion that it would never work. So, they decided to send the most deadly weapon of mass destruction back in time in hopes that their ancestors would completely wipe each other out so they would never have to undergo all the suffering in the future. Instead, they would simply feel a little sting and be gone for good. So, without fail they sent the terribly powerful Ray of Zaplosion back in time.

However, what they didn't consider were the strange workings of time, space, and the universe. If the ancestors of this race got the Ray of Zaplosion and blew each other up with it, then the ray would never have been built in the first place. Lots of strange mind-warping paradoxes would then take hold of the universe and it would be very likely that the whole thing would explode rather violently, taking time and space with it. Not liking the situation, the universe, time, and space all got together and decided that the only rational course of action would be to not send the Ray of Zaplosion back to the ancestors of that race. So, they decided they would send it to a random place at a random time, just as long as it wasn't the planet or time of that specific race.

Conveniently enough, the Ray of Zaplosion just happened to materialize next to one very angry Private Blurgar. His face turned a very odd purple color, and steam seemed to shoot out of his ears. Without warning, he grabbed the Ray of Zaplosion, which oddly resembled an Ak-47 with a satellite dish hooked to the front, as if it had been there forever. He leapt on top of the broken card table, and pointed the gun at Slobberjaw, then at Rahrgus. "This is all your fault!" he cried. "My precious books... Look what you have done to them!"

"It was his fault!" Slobberjaw and Rahrgus shouted in unison, each pointing at the other.

"I don't care whose fault it was!" Blurgar screamed. "Just pick up my books! NOW!" He pointed the Ray of Zaplosion at them menacingly.

Slobberjaw and Rahrgus began to shakily pick up the various manuals and guides. Unfortunately for Rahrgus, he was shaking so badly from fear that he dropped the Master's Guide to Creatures of Assorted Flavors. Blurgar, in a fit of rage, pulled the trigger on his Ray of Zaplosion. Words cannot accurately describe what happened to Rahrgus. It was so horrible and terrible that it is beyond comprehension. The only thing the author will say is this: Rahrgus zaploded.

Needless to say, no one ever dropped one of Blurgar's M&M books again.

Back to the present, Slobberjaw remembered that he had to make a saving throw to determine if his character was ripped to shreds by the numerous guards or simply beaten within an inch of death. Grabbing the twenty-sided die, he tossed it across the card table that had been rather poorly repaired using lots and lots of duct tape, only to roll a three.

"Well, it looks like you just got your left arm ripped off and your appendix taken out by force," Blurgar said rather indifferently. "Better make an infection check."

Slobberjaw sighed and rolled the die once more. He rolled a twelve this time. He looked optimistically at Blurgar.

"You managed to escape infection. That's good. But now the problem is you have a large parasite that was attracted by the smell of your blood and has attached itself to your right arm. Here, I'll try to shoot it off using my 'Extreme Accuracy' skill." He took a thirty-sided die and rolled it. The die landed on fourteen. Blurgar's eye twitched for a split second. He smiled slightly at Slobberjaw, saying "Well, the good news is you don't have to worry about that parasite anymore."

"And the bad news?" Slobberjaw asked with a sinking heart.

"You have no right arm," Blurgar said quickly. "Anyways, Zorbak, why don't you move around to the back of the fort and-"

"Wait, you blew my only good arm off?" Slobberjaw blurted out. "What good is a limbless Shadow Pirate? I can't even use my weapons anymore!"

There was silence for a moment. "Well, you would make one smart looking coat hanger with those stubs," Blurgar said evilly.

Slobberjaw was fuming. With a battle cry, he jumped onto the table toward Blurgar, breaking it in half again, stumbling, and breaking his arm. This was generally the way every Pirate game of Moons & Metroids ended. Why, just last week Zorbak had broken his pelvis in an incident involving a barstool, an angry Moon Master, and a pack of saltine crackers. This, however, is on a strictly don't ask, don't tell basis.

---

The small Federation spaceship continued to wander aimlessly through space not far from where we last left it. Not much had changed on board either, except Ralph had a rather large Band-Aid on his forehead and there was a rather small refrigerator sitting snugly next to the coffee machine.

Opening the refrigerator, Chester pulled out a small china cup with a milky liquid in it. "Would you like some cream for your coffee?" he asked Ralph timidly.

"Chester, all I asked you to do was to not touch anything while I was taking a nap," Ralph said calmly. "So why, Chester, why did you turn the life-support system into a mini-fridge?"

"Well Ralph, how else are we going to keep the cream cold?" Chester responded.

"That isn't what I'm worried about, Chester. You see, you have just limited our life expectancy to thirty-five minutes!"

"Well, there's no need to get all angry about it Ralph!"

"Shut up! And quit leaning forward, I think you're breathing some of MY share of the oxygen."

Suddenly, an even smaller spaceship zoomed by. Ralph peered out the window in astonishment. "A pizza delivery shuttle! Do you know what this means, Chester?"

"I didn't order a pizza, Ralph. Did you? I sure hope you did. I always liked pizza with my coffee."

"No, you moron! We can hijack that ship and get the parts we need to rebuild the hyperdrive and the life support system!"

"Wow, that is a great idea, Ralph."

"Don't just sit there like a dummy! Fire up the engines!" Ralph paused for a moment. "We do still have the engines, right?"

"Oh yes, Ralph, I wouldn't do anything so stupid as to take apart the primary engines."

"Good, good. Then let's give chase! Full speed ahead! Follow that pizza delivery shuttle!"

The small Federation ship sped off in pursuit of the shuttle, the two-main crew totally oblivious that they were headed straight for the base of their sworn enemies...