The Crimson Captain

Chapter 1: The Man in the Crimson Coat

 Large rocks orbit a once vibrant planet, now left dead and broken from wars long past. Bright yellow light from a nearby sun dances through the planetary graveyard, almost bringing it back to life. One of the rocks rotates, revealing the outline of an old, gray ship hiding in its shadow. Now piercing the glass of the cockpit the light starts to warm the scraggly black beard of the sleeping man inside. Scratching his beard, the man starts to wake up and squint off into the distance. Letting out a small yawn, he stands up, dusts off his long, crimson coat and pats his short black hair into place with his hands. Turning around he leaves out the door behind him and heads towards the cargo hold.

The old ship creaked under the heel of his boots as they clatter across the floor and into the cargo hold. The Cutlass was an older ship, it wouldn't win any beauty contests, but it could take a good beating like few other ships could. It was a maneuverable ship with good cargo space and fighting capabilities to match, a favorite of smugglers and pirates alike. The Crimson-clad man dabbled in a little bit of both, but right now he was playing the role of a pirate.

The pirate walked over to a pile of boxes near where a young blonde woman sat, bound with rope and gagged with cloth. The side of the crates had been branded as "Seahorse Soaps" with a cute little seahorse blowing bubbles in a bath tub. The inside didn't contain any hygiene products though, the insides of the crates were packed full with bottles of Hyperion's finest ale; the pirate's favorite beverage. Though he hadn't planned on drinking it, ale actually caught a fine price when snuck into certain worlds. After he wrapped up business here he planned to deliver it to the prison planet, QuarterDeck. Prison worlds aren't allowed alcohol, for either the guards or the inmates, and thus fetched a hefty sum for the man brave enough, or perhaps stupid enough, to deliver it. The man gave his precious cargo a gentle pat as he sat down, then folded his arms and leaned against the hull.

"If everyone involved plays their part, this just might turn out to be a fine day. Don't you think so, Mrs. Tamsen?", he said, glancing over to the young woman. Muffled grunts and yelps sneaked their way through the cloth in her mouth, likely not well meaning ones at that.

"Right...." he remembered, "You're still a bit tied up right now. But no worries, as soon as your husband delivers the agreed upon ransom, you'll be back in his fat, rich arms, drinking expnsive champagne. Perhaps a little less rich, though." he says laughing to himself.

Turning his attention to the center of the cargo hold, he looks up to the gunner's seat where a young man is tinkering with some electronics. "Has our guest of honor arrived yet, Johnny?"

Flicking a few switches and checking the radar, Johnny responds with a confused, "Well...."

"What?"

"I've never seen a rich senator in a Bounty Class Avenger before. He seems to be staying a safe distance, but he's looking in our direction and his weapons appear to be armed, Captain."

The Captain turns his eyes to Mrs. Tamsen, "I figured a rich politician like your husband would have had the sense to know what happens when you fuck with a pirate. Looks like one of us is about to be having a very bad day."

The woman slams her feet against the wooden crate below her out of disgust.

INCOMING TRANSMISSION

The Captain opens the door to the flight deck, the whole ship creaking again with his movements. He locks the door behind him and leans over the pilot seat, reaching for the controls.

*Click*

"I didn't know you could fly an Avenger, Mr. Tamsen.", he smirked.

"Mr. Tamsen is a busy man. I'm here for the girl and I'd like it an awful lot if you turned yourself in too, Rogers. You didn't actually think you could blackmail a senator and get away with it did you?"

After a moment of silence the Captain responded, "Is that Billy-fracking-Parkins? Haven't you gotten tired of chasing me yet?"

"Very much Mr. Rogers, but there's nowhere to run this time. Whether you want to come with me alive, or dead, is your choice. I don't really have a preference in these things. It's all business you see."

Pausing for a few moments, the Captain speaks with a reluctant voice. "You win, Billy. Give me a moment and I'll be right out."

*Click*

The captain positions himself into the pilot's seat, the buckles locking in place makes a loud, metallic clank. He wipes the sweat from his brow and then the sweat from his hands. It's not a good idea to have sweaty hands when controlling a ship in this environment, your hand might slip and send you barreling into an asteroid or three. He takes one final look out of the window, taking in the scenery one last time. After checking his surroundings he lets out one last sigh knowing what is to come. Flicking the communications switch, he prepares to speak to cargo hold.

*Click*

"Johnny, do you have breather back there?"

"Yeah, what's up, Cap?"

"I'm gonna need you to put it on if you still wanna be breathing in the next 5 seconds. We are too heavy to take on a bounty hunter ship, but if we lose some weight, we can probably just barely escape. We are dumping all the cargo."

Johnny frantically fumbles for his helmet, managing to get out a few words as he picks it up, "Hold on Cap...." He clicks on his helmet and locks the gunner's seat in place. "We still got the girl in the back, she doesn't have a-"

*Click*

WARNING: CARGO DUMP INITIATED