Hello! I apologise for its tardiness, but in place of a traditional Wednesday Fiction, I give you...
Whatever this is!
Oh hello, I’m glad to see you all today
Stay a while, and listen, just… don’t go away.
Before our show starts, I’ve a story to tell
Of a cold night in Space, and some ne’er do-wells.
‘Twas the night before Chris-mas, and all through my ship
Not a Vanduul was stirring, not even a bit.
The shotguns were stacked up by the door with care
In the knowledge that Pirates might soon appear.
My crewmates were nestled, all snug in their bunks
With visions of shore-leave, keeping them up.
And I in my Captain’s chair, wearing my cap
Staring out at the void, and loving the black.
When from all the sensors, there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
And so to the comm-suite, I flew like a flash
Twisting some buttons, tapping the dash
The silence and darkness of deep, empty space
Shone off of the monitor, and lit up my face.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a small radar blip, sounding quite near.
I punched on more knobs, dreading the quiet
Till the Radar confirmed my worst fear: pirates.
More rapid than Hornets, the Cutlass it came
My intercom buzzing a frightful refrain
You’ll die, oh you’ll die, painful and slow
We’ll rip off your limbs, and break all your bones
We’ll take all your cargo, but leave you alive
Then blow up your ship, with you still inside.
I dry-heaved several times, then woke up my crew
And we all gathered our shotguns, plus a pistol or two
The silence, interminable, the wait it seemed endless
The anticipation, cruel. Our fear left us breathless.
And then, in a burst, I heard from the hold
The sealed docking collar, being ripped from its post
As I stuck out my shotgun, and aimed down the corridor,
The first of the Pirates, like a madman, came closer
He was dressed all in red, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished, with ashes and blood
A brown burlap sack, he held clenched in one fist
A sawn-off double-barrel in the other, no less.
His eyes how they steamed, his scars, how angry
His cheeks were all pitted, his teeth were quite lacking
His sharp, angry mouth, was drawn up in a sneer
In his beard, bits of food, weeks old I fear.
The blade of a knife he held tight in his gums
And his feet they were bare, his toes withered like plums
A squint of his eyes, and a crack of his neck
Made me sure one of us soon would be dead
He said not a word, he just roared, and then charged
So I blew off one arm, and his charge faltered hard
Blood slowly pooling, he collapsed to the floor,
As two more bloody pirates, leaped through the door
We said not a word, just went straight to our work
The shotgun shells flying, body parts piling up
And then without warning, without word, without hint
The last of the pirates turned and ran, at a sprint.
He sprang to his ship, to his crew gave a cry
And away they all flew, or at least they tried.
For I dialed up his comms, ere they were all gone
Saying ‘Missiles locked and away; Merry Chris-Mas you scum’