The Return of the Cap

[Captain Hesperus]

<camera view: Deep space, a planet in the middle distance is partially eclipsing the solitary star of the system. Mid-screen text reads "Witchspace Beacon inbound to Riedquat". The camera view sweeps around to the Witchspace Beacon itself>
A jump cloud blossoms into life like the silent blue-tinted explosion of a orchid. The ship that coalesces from the depths of Hyperspace looks like a Python, except it's horrifically beaten-up appearance. Whole sections of the hull are missing, yawning gulfs of open space can be seen through the interior of the vessel. Running lights flicker fitfully along the exterior and the engines periodically gout large quantities of unstable plasma in the ship's wake. The remaining outer panels are criss-crossed by multiple high-yield energy weapon strikes and micro-meteorite impacts. One solitary panel bears an ident plate, almost completely obscured by carbonised waste and melted hull panel. It reads "DP-099 'The Dubious Profit'". Another panel near the back has a hastily-created message made by means of a plasma cutter "Running in - Please overtake"
<camera view: Interior, ship's cockpit.>
The interior of the cockpit is a scene from a disaster movie. Roof panels are scattered over the floor and bundles of blackened and burning cables hang down like high-tech jungle vines. The air is thick with clouds of acrid, white smoke. The cockpit is bathed in crimson from the emergency lighting rigs welded to the walls and what was once an aert klaxon has been converted to a humourous "SQUONK! SQUONK! SQUONK!" by a high velocity impact that damaged the speaker. Within the clouds, movement can just be discerned.
"Are we dead?", a voice, high and chittering asks.
"If we are, then I've obviously gone to Hell, because you're here, D'vlin.", a deep rumbling voice replied.
"Rus, I think we can all asume we're still alive. My back's certainly not going to let me die before it tells me just how bad it feels.", another voice chipped in, a smooth voice that should have belonged to a Tri-Vid star or even an intergalactic spy.
Instead it belonged to a small grey feline from Orrira, famed through all Eight Charts as the least liked and worst fated trader to ever ply the star lanes. Captain Hesperus waved the smoke out of his face, his pink nose wrinkling at the smell and tapped hopfully at the console in front of him. It responded with a negatory buzz and he summarily punched it. It bleeped and lights flickered across it.
"Looks like we've returned to Real Space, after all. That's a late watch you owe me, D'vlin.", Hesperus smiled, pausing to suck at his barked knuckles.
A tubby ginger feline picked himself up from the floor where he had thrown himself prior to their arrival in Riedquat and inspected the bundle of wrappers at his feet. Quick as a flash he extracted a much thumbed, unopened wrapper and wrenched it open. The chewy-chocolatey contents were rapidly consumed to the sounds of growling and whimpering.
"Stepan, once you've finished your 'last supper', would you mind figuring out where we are? The navi-comp keeps saying we are in Riedquat. And that, all things considered, would be a problem."
The ginger tom nodded and waddled over to the flight systems. He thumbed through the exterior view cameras, his eyes fixing on the established spatial 'landmarks' that the early astro-mariners had used to navigate and stood thoughtfully for a minute. he smiled and nodded sagely.
"Yep, yep, yep. Definately.", he said.
"Definately, what?"
"Yes, it's definately Riedquat.", the big feline smiled cheerfully.
At that moment, the threat alert siren started "SQUONK"-ing as a triangle of red blips appeared on the cracked scanner screen.
Hesperus sighed as he tried to muster something approximating to combat readiness from his ship's ruined systems.
"Looks like my luck's back to normal."

The Dubious Profit vainly tried to veer off to avoid the inbound squadron, but the damaged ventral thruster array treasonously misfired and sent the ship barrel-rolling back into the crosshairs of the pirates. Hesperus swore, Rus cursed and D'vlin went back to his prayers to Randomius Factoria, Giles the Creator, or whoever the hell else might hear them. A flicker of laser fire danced across the damaged nose of the Python, sending her already crippled shields screeching and chunks of molten duralium pinnwheeling lazily away. The damage control computer did the only thing available to it with the resources remaining to it and promptly exploded, scattering its console across the disaster area that was supposed to be the Profit's bridge.
"Okay boys, time to face facts.", Hesperus sighed as the emergency klaxon finally died, it's "SQUONK" silenced forever, "Ship's screwed, we're gonna have to bail..."
He turned his chair around and was confronted by a massed brawl as his crew struggled to force themselves into the one still-functional escape pod.
"DAMMIT! I'm the captain, I get first dibs on the escape pod!", he howled, hurling himself into the scuffle.

Had he remained at the viewscreen, he might have noticed a slight flicker off to one side, a few hundred clicks behind the pirates. As it was, he and the rest of the crew were taken aback by the sudden wideband com-mesage that echoed across the void.
"No-one performs piracy on my patch!"
Hesperus froze at the sound of the voice. It had a deep, gutteral sound, immediately recognisable as belonging to a reptilian. His response was automatic.
"Oh Giles, not him. Anyone but him. Even Maegil."

The pirates obviously recognised the voice, as they immediately broke off their attack run. But it was too late. Even as they peeled off, an area of empty space suddenly became a powerful-looking warship, its lines sleek and predatory. The ident computer aboard the Profit confirmed Hesperus' fears as it revealed the ship's callsign: "Persistence of Memory". The Omega-variant Caduceus swept past one of the hapless pirates, its broadside weapons filling the void between the two ships with ravening plasma fire. The pirate, a Cobra Mark III, lasted all of a couple of seconds before its shields, then its hull, were breached and it erupted in a silent cloud of super-heated gas and white hot debris. The second pirate ship, a nippy little Mosquito Sport, attempted to blindside the Caduceus with a salvo of missiles, but the mighty vessel ECMed or shot down the weapons with precision plasma fire. The Persistence heeled around on her axis, bringing her immensely powerful primary weapon to bear. The forward viewscreen of the Dubious Profit automatically cut out for a moment as the awesome prow weapon discharged and as it reactivated, it was apparent that nothing, not even wreckage, remained of the Mosquito. The final pirate, a Blackdog Python that was only slightly less the worse for wear than the Dubious Profit, had taken the intervening few moments from the Caduceus' arrival to the demise of its allies to initiate its hyperspace drives. Even as the archetect of its comrades' demise came about to fix the ship in its sights, the Blackdog formed its jumpgate and was gone.

Hesperus, indeed all the crew, had turned back to the viewscreen and thus had witness the terrifying display of raw destructive power that was within the hands of one of the Galactic Chart's most renowned bounty hunters. A light flashed on the coms console, indicating an incoming transmission on a visual channel. Captain Hesperus gingerly perched himself in the command chair and tried to master his face even as he thumbed the 'receive' button on the console. Instantly recognisable, the face of Derik Roh'i, the famous 'Commander Wyvern', filled the screen. His face was inscrutable as he peered through the static of the transmission and the smoke that still shrouded the Profit's cockpit.
"Either this is a rare, and frankly pointless, facsimile or I'm actually speaking to the commander of the Dubious Profit. That'd be Commander Hesperus, yes."
It was a statement, not a question. Hesperus bridled for a moment as the most hated word in his vocabulary hit him full on. He bit back the bile that he normally responded with and replied, "Yes, this is Captain Hesperus speaking, I take it I have the honour to be addressing Commander Roh'i. I'd like to thank you for you assistance in dealing with those pirates, but frankly it was unnecessary as..."
Hesperus was interrupted by a bellowing roar of laughter from the bounty hunter. The laughter continued for a minute or two before the big reptiloid brought himself back under control.
"Hesperus, you're a fool if you really expect me to believe that load of Trumble crap. Our scans reveal that you're out of missiles, your forward laser is out of alignment, sixty percent of your shield emitters are fused and your power levels are fluctuating alarmingly. The only way you could have possibly defeated those pirates is if you persuaded them to board, then self-detonated."
"Actually we couldn't even do that, Derik. The self-destruct system has been out of order for over a year.", Rus replied, roughly elbowing Hesperus aside to look into the viewer.
"Rus, I thought when you dropped out of sight you'd retired! Where have you been?", Roh'i asked, surprise obvious in his voice.
"Well, I had planned to retire a while back, but my previous commander jumped ship leaving me without six month's back pay. Hesperus kindly took me on as a thirty percent partner in his trading company. I'm still waiting on a return on his profits."
At this Rus glanced darkly at the feline he was leaning across.
"We've got to catch up. How about I escort that heap of junk back to space port and then you can explain where all that damage came from. No GalCop station would have allowed you to break from dock in that state and besides that, I know you of old, you'd never allow it, even if galCop did."
"It's a deal, Derik. In fact, if you guide us in safe, Hesperus'll shout for a couple of bottles of that Onatian Bloodwine you enjoy. Won't you, Captain?", Rus replied, the threat of impending violence evident in his voice.
"Of course.", Hesperus replied weakly, artfully regaining his composure beneath his chief engineer's glare.

Captain Hesperus

[DaddyHoggy]

Where it should be!

You must have been gone a long time - I managed to write a 18K word 'short' story in your absence! (oh and reach 3000 postings - 99% noise of course!)

[Disembodied]

Then what happened?

>sloshes up and down in excitement<

[Diziet Sma]

Never drink coffee whilst reading a Cap'n H story.. (that damage-control computer bit got me..)

<pats self on back, coughs weakly...>


Happily looks forward to more..

[Commander McLane]

One proof-reading comment:

Reidquat (passim)

Perhaps it's a just a running gag? Or Captain Hesperus' Ooniverse is distinctly different from everybody else's? (Which would it make slightly difficult to integrate him in this project.)

Or perhaps it should actually read "Riedquat"? I don't know...

[Captain Hesperus]

One proof-reading comment:

Reidquat (passim)

Perhaps it's a just a running gag? Or Captain Hesperus' Ooniverse is distinctly different from everybody else's? (Which would it make slightly difficult to integrate him in this project.)

Or perhaps it should actually read "Riedquat"? I don't know...

Doh! /facepaw

fixed. That's what happens when you write fiction at silly o'clock at night after a trying day. I could have sworn it was spelt that way in the Wiki...

Captain Hesperus

[ClymAngus]

This is so cool I had to go wee.

[Zieman]

Very entertaining, hoping to see more (Captain Hesperus story, not ClymAngus weeing... ).
Dang, this BB needs better emoticons, I'll send a pack (to Ahruman?) later...

[Cmdr Wyvern]

Some constructive criticism here...

The Persistence Of Memory is kitted with standard military lasers on all four mounts. (I would've called her Ace Of Spades, but Udian wouldn't let me hear the end of it if I went there.)
Nothing special about the lasers, except their green, and fired very precisely. I rarely miss. For this reason, I prefer long-range sniping.
For short-range combat, yes I'll use plasma broadsides, but combine the plasma battery barrage with side laser bursts. Gives a new meaning to "slice and dice", as you can imagine.
And let's not forget the military missiles in the stores, and maybe a nuke or two.

Apart from those little flaws, well done my fuzzy friend.

[DaddyHoggy]

More! More! This is how Lazarus turned into a monster!

[Cmdr Wyvern]

More, you say? Not a problem! Have another helping of this tale, with a trumbleburger on the side.



Derik grinned at the screen. "I appreciate the offer, Rus old friend. But the bounties collected on the opportunistic scum your shot to Hell and gone wreck is sure to attract, that would be more than enough. Besides, I reckon repairs are going to cost the Empress' ransom. Be prepared to turn out your pockets, Hesperus."
There came a quiet, and not unexpected groan from across the channel. "Dammit, you didn't have to tell me that!", Hesperus moaned. "I sincerely wish I didn't have to," Derik replied.
"It gets worse than that," Ramania said, patching into the channel. "Folks, according to the scans, your prime motivator barely has any life left to it. How it's managing to thrust at all is frankly something of a miracle. Let's hope it manages to get you to dock, or somebody is gonna have to get out and push."
Ignoring the argument coming over the comm as to who was going to be assigned the impossible task of pushing the Profit to dock, Derik chided his engineer, "Honest and blunt as usual, Kitten, but rude and uncalled for. We're professionals here, act like it. Mind your manners, lass." "Sorry, Boss," Ramania sighed, disconnecting from the channel.
"Don't be too hard on her, Derik, I'm sure she means well," Rus said. "If I have to slap some more blutac and duct tape on the engine to keep it going, then that's what I'll do. Just blast us a hole big enough to drive through, and we'll do the rest."
Just then, the AI of the Persistence spoke up, "Hostiles detected." "Multiple contacts on long-range, and it looks like they saw us," Rupert added.
Derik nodded, "One big hole coming up. I'm gonna have to close the connection, Rus. Cut speed while we go clear the way of riffraff."
Closing the comm channel, Derik connected a cabled patch to his cybernetic eye, and reclined his chair, wrapping his hands around the gunnery controls as sensor data fed into his eye. "Interception speed, Rupert. Persi, weapons free. Let's kick some pirate ass."
"Locked and loaded," the AI responded, bringing the weapon batteries online, while the Cadecus surged ahead into the doomed pirate pack.

[ClymAngus]

The smoky atmosphere in the bridge matched his mood as Hesperus sank into his cradling hands. He mulled over the multitude of indignities he had just been forced to suffer. Having his furry rump saved by the likes of Roh'i, being laughed at, again, the impending insanely high price tag for fixing the dubious profit, And and.... burning fur? OW! The console was still hot! The clinging smell of burnt elbow fur mingled with the wash of ruined circuitry, snapped the grey feline back to reality.

The cabin for once was strangely silent. The partially cooked remains of the alert klaxon steamed gently. D'vlin had stopped genuflecting to every deity he could think of (and a couple he had made up and tacked on the end for good measure) when the Caduceus arrived. He was currently standing next to the slumped Stepan watching the unstoppable pirate meat grind being silently played out on the view screen in front of him. Rus had retired to the engine room, presumably to steel tape one of his lobster assistants to the prime motivator manifold in order to squeeze 5 more minutes of life out of it.

Hesperus rubbed his soldering elbows and looked up. Roh'i wasn't clearing a path, he was disinfecting the system. As soon as one ship exploded the Caduceus trained on the next, the space behind the ship was awash with wreaked and abandoned vessels, ruined armour and scorched cargo pods. Cargo pods....... A broad toothy smile slowly spread across Captain Hesperus's lips. Maybe something could be salvaged from this debacle after all......

[Commander McLane]

Hesperus

You may want to fix that (three times, I think).

[ClymAngus]

Done and done.