Do you like space adventure? Do you like alien creatures? Do you like jokes?
Well, you have come to the right place!
The 'Oh No!' Anthology is a collection of short stories written by great authors of this orange world based on the same theme. In th...
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What’s it like being a space pirate?
Sheesh, kid. Is this what passes for an education in the Profiteer Federation these days?
I grew up on an ice-ball planet you’re too lazy to Google, but even I learned the good manners to do a little research before emailing a stranger. Frankly, if I wasn’t stuck on this ageing space yacht to nowhere with a Calamarian named Ed Bunkdysseus, I would’ve just deleted your email. (FYI, helpwith my homework isn’t a compelling subject line, kid. Just saying).
But I am stuck on this rusting old space yacht to nowhere, and there’s nobody to talk with, except the aforementioned Ed Bunkdysseus, who is currently going into the eighth hour of a trance music jam session. I hate it when he does that.
(A word about Calamarians since you probably won’t bother to Google them either. They look like a cross between humans and squids. Two legs. Two arms. And a face full of tentacles that never stop snacking. Never. They also have fur everywhere except their tentacles, which look like pasta with slimy residue).
ANYWAY, since I’m on a trip to nowhere with the universe’s worst travel companion, I thought I’d kill some time and write you back, even if your question was a little insulting.
First, we are not—repeat not—space pirates. We are space privateers. What’s the difference?
They hang pirates, kid. Unless it’s in space, where hanging might be an issue, depending on the quality of your gravity stabilizer. That kind of equipment isn’t standard on a lot the older ships.
Did you know that ninety-nine percent of space ships are old? Really old. Like they should’ve been decommissioned around the time Earth 3 was abandoned. (I’ll save you the trouble of Googling it, kid, we’re talking more than a century ago). On the older ships, we just blow the space pirates out of the air lock, which is perfectly legal, assuming all the paperwork is in order.
ANYWAY, privateer means we work for a corporation called Fidelity Buccaneer Group, which is duly licensed and organized under the laws of the Profiteer Federation. We don’t just Blast & Board like those space pirates on those cheesy network shows.
We hunt for treasure in Independent Space. And as they should’ve taught you at that school of yours, what happens in Independent Space stays in Independent Space, unless it’s treasure brought back by privateers.
That’s what Ed Bunkdysseus and I were supposed to be doing with this particular yacht. It’s a Branson Class yacht with a good hull that’ll make a fine frigate or inter-system ferry, if we ever get it back to the Profiteer Federation. But I doubt we’ll make back. Honestly, at this point, I’d surrender to the Egalitarian Alliance, even if it meant spending the rest of my days overseeing picker droids on a legume farm in the Agrarian System. That’s how much I want off this space yacht.
