The Last Leg To Port

When he was a younger man, Captain Beefheart had a proclivity for gambling. He had a knack for winning when there was risk involved. His comrades would say he was seraphically lucky, his enemies would say he was a disgusting, cheating fucker. There was one game in particular that was his favorite, Har'Tahkian Parcheesi. He won a great deal of money and made a great deal more enemies playing it. It was in this game that he acquired the, now gutted, SS Beefheart. He won it (fair and square) from a Warmonger named Caruthers in a particularly bloody match.

The SS Beefheart is, at its core, a Quantum Class Cruiser, capable of trans-light speed travel but limited weaponry and fuck-all for shields. As chance would have it, Beefheart was owed a great deal of money by a Mechanics Guild that offered to “modify” his newly acquired ship in lieu of paying their debt. Beefheart agreed, knowing that Caruthers would not let this very public defeat go. The chief gear head, Mike, assembled his crew and modified the SS Beefheart into its current incarnation. Faster than ever and loaded to bear with shields and guns, The Beefheart was a paragon of Space Pirate Transportation. Their debt repaid, The Mechanics wished Beefheart well and sent him on his way. It wasn’t long before Caruthers caught wind of what Mike + The Mechanics had done to his precious ship and he wrought swift death upon them.

Our good captain has never suffered murderers and tyrants well. When the news of the massacre reached him, he decided he would show Caruthers, first hand, the fine work that The Guild had done for him. With Piebeard at the helm and himself and WhiteBoyBob manning the turrets, Warmonger Caruthers’ fleet of murderous dogs were viciously beaten with the rolled up newspaper of justice. Caruthers pleaded for his life but WhiteBoyBob introduced him to Stella.

---

Captain Beefheart reflected upon this memory as he gazed upon the battered and bruised SS Beefheart from the observation deck. Just then Bounty Hunter Killer Hunter WhiteBoyBob entered the room.

“Oi, Bob.” He hollered.

“Wassat, mate?”

“Remember Caruthers?”

A toothy grin appeared on Bob’s face.

“Aye. A right cunt, that one. Blasted his chest open like a shed door, too. Happier times mate, happier times.”

Beefheart began to chuckle.

“That they were, mate.”

The two laughed a bit more and then silence permeated the deck. After a few moments Beefheart spoke again.

“I actually called you up here for a reason. I know you are a freelancer now, but this situation we’re in is only going to get worse and I wanted to know if you’d stick it out with us, for old time’s sake. Of course we would pay you once we reach Blogadoon, and that fool Piebeard digs up my treasure.”

Bob looked out of the windows of the observation deck and rubbed his dirty fingers on his chin, flecking away some dried Anoovidal Honey. Beefheart winced a bit and continued his pitch.

“Some of these recruits are far too green to be worth a damn in a battle, assuming they even stay on after we reach port. I need a good man to train them. And don’t forget, we’ll pay you.”

Bob looked over at Beefheart.

“No.”

“Get fucked then, you numpty twat!” Beefheart bellowed.

Bob cackled. “I mean ‘no, you don’t have to pay me’, I’ll do it. I’ve missed this life. Stella’s been clamoring for bodies and God knows I need the exercise.” He extended his hand and Beefheart shook it vigorously. “Plus,” Bob added, “The scenery is none too shabby.” He nodded towards the door that Lieutenant Milf had just walked through.

Beefheart spun around wedging himself firmly between the two.

“Good news Helga, Bob has agreed to stay on and help train the new recruits.”

“Shit…” she lamented. “…That’s great news.” She recovered quickly. “Could I have a moment of your time Captain? We are going to be reaching port in a matter of minutes, Sir. You should come strap in and advise the crew.”

“I’ll be right there. I just need to finish up here.”

With a nod, Lieutenant Milf exited. Captain Beefheart turned back to Bob and spoke.

“One more thing, mate. Now that you are officially a crewman, there’ll be no… fraternizing, got it?”

Bob looked downright hurt as Beefheart spoke the words. He response carried a sad tone.

“Oh alright.”

---

With restored confidence, Beefheart walked onto the bridge.

“Ensign Pereria, status report.”

“Sir, we are approximately 4 minutes from breaking light speed, and an additional 10 minutes from making port.”

“Excellent.” Beefheart looked over at his first mate, Piebeard, who was currently engaged in some sort video game frivolity.

“Oi, Pie.”

Piebeard was too involved in the game to notice his Captain speaking to him.

“Piebeard!”

“Hang on, I’m almost to level 12.”

Captain Beefheart snatched the device from Piebeard’s hands and flung across the bridge, Franklin, who was walking by caught it as if he were expecting it.

“What’s so bloody important?” Piebeard was speaking to the captain but he never took his eyes off of Franklin.

“We’re about to break light-speed, inform the crew.”

Piebeard grabbed the coms, still eyeballing Franklin. The robot glanced over at him and, as far as Piebeard could tell, winked at him, then proceeded to crush his gaming device and stuffed it into his compartment.

Piebeard shot out of his seat and pointed at Franklin who was mending a console now. “That fucking robot just broke my PSP XIVII, and he winked at me!”

Everyone stared at Piebeard inquisitively. Cheyenne walked over to Piebeard and strapped himself into his the seat next to him.

“Negative, winking is not one of his programmed functions and he doesn’t even have your PSP.”

“That’s because he stuffed it into his compartment.” Piebeard was jumping up and down in anger.

“He is not equipped with a compartment, Sir. I have him programmed to fix that console and nothing else, it would be impossible for him to violate his directive. You must be mistaken.”

“No, I’m fucking not mistaken. He winked at me.”

Captain Beefheart felt compelled to interrupt at this point

“Piebeard, just inform the ruddy crew that we are going to be breaking light speed in… when, Ensign?”

“Uh… now sir.”

The SS Beefheart gave a great lurch as it left the confines of light speed. The unbuckled Piebeard flew forward. He was staring at Franklin as he flew into a girder that broke both his legs. Before Piebeard blacked out from pain he could swear that the mechano-man was smiling at him.

“Fucking… robots… can’t smile…” He thought, and passed out.