Pirate Theory

Pirate Theory

  © 2016 by Gabriel Just

  Captain Peppita looked deep into the eyes of her comrade Flinton. Many years she had travelled with him and nevertheless she was now unsure if the creature standing in front of her was really him. The thing next to him was more or less an exact copy, as far as Peppita could tell. Both creatures were about twice Peppita’s size; small, brown scales covered their entire skin, two sharp horns emerged from their foreheads. Both looked like ordinary Skaren. The only thing Peppita was sure of, was that only one of those two was the real Flinton. She reached for her blaster and aimed directly between them.

  “There is no other way. Forgive me... I have to shoot you both…” she whispered.

  “Seriously!?” one of the creatures shouted angrily. “I am now on this ship for over a week and you still can’t tell me apart from my cousin Flinton!?”

  “Apparently I can’t, okay?! You two look so similar,” Peppita said angrily.

  “Not at all!” Grongl, who had now been a passenger on Peppita’s ship for eight days, insisted. “I am much taller than my cousin Flinton. Anyway, what did he do this time? Why do you want to shoot him again?”

  “He knows what he did,” Peppita snapped at both of them with an evil glare.

  “It’s useless,” Flinton explained to his cousin. “She is as stubborn as she is tiny. No point in talking to her right now.”

  “I don’t have to listen to this. And just so you know, I am of average height and average stubbornness for my species,” Peppita said while watching both Skaren carefully. “In any case Flinton is going to pay for what he did.”

  Two green beams sparkled through the corridor and both Skaren were hit and fell to the ground.

  “That will teach him,” Peppita whispered triumphantly before going back to the bridge.

  “Attention! Captain on the bridge!” the first officer Kip announced as Peppita entered the room. He stood at attention, successfully trying not to be taller than his captain. His uniform was in perfect condition and his insignia freshly polished. “Did you find your Malonian cookies?” he asked as respectfully as possible while sitting down again.

  Peppita headed to her captain’s chair, threw her leather jacket over the backrest and sat down.

  “No I did not. But at least I was able to zap the person who ate them. It was Flinton, as I suspected.”

  “So you finally managed to tell him and his cousin apart. Good, this situation was getting ridiculous. It is true that sometimes it is difficult for Piki like us to distinguish two Skaren like them. But it might also be hard for them. I mean, objectively even the two of us look rather similar. We are about the same height, our skin is the same shade of blue for the untrained observer and our giant eyes may distract from every other facial feature. If it weren’t for your longer hair, I bet Flinton would have difficulties telling us apart. Probably… Maybe... But him and his cousin Grongl? They don’t even look that similar. I’m glad you can tell them apart now. ”

  “Tell them apart? No, not exactly. You know I have a bad memory for faces. And height. And clothing. And body features in general. I just zapped them both.”

  Kip took his time formulating his response in a respectful way. “Captain, we talked about this. You shouldn’t go around stunning our passengers.”

  Even though Kip tried his best not to, he still infuriated Peppita with this suggestion.

  “Passengers? There are no passengers. This is not a passenger ship and it never will be. This whole thing is just… temporary. In truth we are still smugglers, even after losing our license.”

  “I am afraid all the security forces in the whole of Hilbert Space have a very diverging view in that regard. We have to accept that. For now, all we can do is haul freight and the occasional passenger.”

  “But why?” Peppita asked. “Automated ships could do this as well. Even faster. What’s the purpose of our job?”

  “Well, captain,” Kip stammered, afraid that he might provoke another one of Peppita’s infamous outbursts. “What is the purpose of any job?” he asked rhetorically. “Everything can be automated. Robots and machines can do everything a sentient can do, faster even, as you so truthfully said. However, we still need jobs. Everybody needs something to do. Without work, people go crazy. They need challenges and the feeling of accomplishing something. It’s an important part of existing happily.”

  “And that’s the problem,” Peppita said while spinning around in her chair. “I am not happy! Not at all! There are no challenges or accomplishments. All we do is pick up stuff. Sometimes crates, sometimes somebody’s cousin. And we bring stuff to other places. That’s it. No excitement, no action, no fun at all! I can’t go on like this. I miss the good old days, when we were real smugglers. Kip! Assemble the crew! I have an announcement to make.”

  Kip was slightly confused and it took him a while to formulate a reply. “What crew exactly? You knocked out Flinton and I am already here.”

  “Oh right. Well then: Assemble yourself!”

  Kip rose from his seat and saluted. In order to add the necessary importance to her announcement, Peppita activated the intercom, despite the fact that only Kip, who was directly next to her, could hear her.

  “Attention, all personnel! This is the captain speaking! Our days of mindlessly hauling freight are over. From this day forward we no longer haul cargo! We are now… well, I am not entirely sure what we are now, but I will find something for us to do!”

  Contently Peppita sunk back in her chair. She opened a drawer, took out a small box of Malonian cookies and began to eat them complacently. Slowly it dawned on her. “That’s where I put them; now I remember. I guess I owe Flinton an apology.”

  “I am sorry,” Peppita said barely audible after smacking Flinton to wake him up. He just gave her a confused look, still dizzy from the stun ray. “So you want me to spell it out, is that it?” Peppita snapped at him. “Well, if that’s what you want. I am sorry that you, Flinton, are such an annoying pest! You get on my nerves so often, that I automatically assume that you are responsible for every disaster. And whose fault is that? Yours of course! Just go back to work! We have much to do! I just decided that we will quit this boring transport business. Go to the cargo bay and jettison all crates.”

  Peppita stomped away as Grongl woke up. “What happened?” he asked his cousin Flinton.

  “I think Peppita just apologized to me. Kind of. In her way. And it turns out we stop the cargo hauling. Finally. Even I was getting bored of it.”

  “But what about me?” Grongl asked. “You have to bring me to my destination. Don’t you?”

  “Well, if I understand Peppita correctly you are about to be jettisoned together with the crates. At least she didn’t say otherwise. And Peppita never differentiates between cargo and passengers, she thinks that is discriminatory. It might be a good idea to talk to her. You know, plead for your life and everything. She likes that.”

  Grongl had a worried expression on his face. “Well, I guess I have to try, if I don’t want to end up in a cargo crate.” He went directly to the bridge where he approached Peppita. “Excuse me? Captain Peppita?”

  Peppita turned around and eyed him suspiciously. “Flinton? No, wait. You must be Flinton’s brother.”

  “Cousin, yes.”

  “Cousin, whatever.”

  “So you finally remembered my face?”

  “Well no, it is just that Flinton never addresses me properly as Captain Peppita. Didn’t Flinton tell you? We are not transporting passengers anymore. You can ask your uncle Flinton how the airlock works, if you have trouble leaving the ship.”

  “Flinton is my cousin.”

  “Cousin, whatever.”

  “Well, about that leaving the ship bit. I was wonderin
g if it may be possible that you drop me off at my destination. It is only a few hours now till we arrive there, so maybe I could stay a little longer? My people need me, it would be disastrous for them if I would not arrive at Lorola station in time.“

  Peppita looked at her terminal. Her ship, the Blasting Beatle, was really very close to Lorola station. “I’m not sure. It would be kind of a detour,” she responded.

  “Detour? Where are you headed?”

  “I have no idea where to go next. Could be anywhere. Infinite possibilities. So statistically the chances that I want to go to Lorola station are infinitely small.”

  “But it’s really important to me.”

  “What is it you do again?” Peppita asked while playing with the height adjustment of her chair.

  “I am a scientist. I told you that before I came on board. And after that. 17 times actually, if you count just now. Your memory is really not the best, is it?”

  “On the contrary. My memory just chooses not to store things that I am completely uninterested in. Science you say… that might be fun. Is it the kind of science that blows things up? Or fires some kind of beams to destroy something? Or the science that makes my ship go faster?”

  “To be honest, none of those. I work in a theoretical research group. We mainly think about the world outside of Hilbert Space.”

  “Outside? Is there even something? I mean, something relevant? Last time I checked all interesting stuff happens