Pirate Captain Jeliah wasn’t in the mood for Dave’s bullshit. He was newish. Her whole gang was newish. The old ones had been hired away by one of the larger pirate companies. She’d never sell out like that, but all her old crew members had excuses. Families, children, pirate school debt- she’d heard it all and she accepted none of it. If you wanted to make a difference in the Galaxy you had to be willing to take it to the Galactic equivalent of the streets and be ready to fight for what was right, money be damned. Money was the problem. She knew she’d never get anything done without it but that didn’t stop her from being disgusted by the whole capitalist nature of it all. That said, when the old crew started wearing loose, comfortable pants and paying off the mortgages on the homes they could now afford she had to admit a small twinge of jealousy. She’d never be like them, never become a corporate slave…but kicking back when you’d beaten the corporation? That was a future to look forward to. And so as the old crew slowly retired, she was stuck with more and more of these children who thought they knew revolution. Dave was the newest one. He’d probably been rude. That’s how the new ones always got hurt.
“You. You have a name?”
“Grant, madam. Grant Doubletree.”
“What happened?”
Dave cut in with an anguished squeal. “You’re asking him?!”
“I should ask you? You’re the one with a gun and a broken wrist.”
“But…but…I-”
“You nothing. Shut up and stand over there. By the one asleep on his back. Yeah, the far corner.” Dave did as he was told, shivering and snivelling and clearly in pain which Jeliah highly suspected was deserved.
“What happened?”
“Well, I was simply explaining why it was necessary to see this as a business transaction when he rather impertinently demanded my pocket watch.”
“That right, Dave?” she shouted, “He was telling you to be fucking nice and you tried to steal his shit?” Dave nodded weakly. Pretty much the only way he could nod, she thought to herself.
“Well he paid for it, so I trust we’re all even?” Grant smiled peacefully and nodded to her. His scars faded ever so slightly back to the normal color of his face. “Ok. I’m Jeliah, these are my…trainees, at best, really. We came for the fuel but due to a very irritating lack of preparation, we boarded your mothership before you had. The fuel is mine now, which I’m sure you’re all aware of, though I suspect Dave thought you too stupid to realize it, and a very polite, competent seeming guy on board has sailed away. You’re here with me now. Anyone who wants to join up and be part of something, make a difference, you’re welcome to sign on. We don’t have much in the way of wages but there’s a frozen yogurt machine and we put in a nap pod, plus you get your own half of a room. It’s a pretty sweet setup, all things considered.” She finished her speech and waited, tapping her boot. The one called Grant spoke up, and since no one stopped him she assumed he was the leader, though he did keep glancing at the giant dude to her left, who just sat there smiling.
“That is a very generous offer, obviously, and I believe all of us at some point or another have grown weary of the incessant corporate culture to which we have all been exposed. Just as a counterpoint, however, could you indulge me and inform us as to the opposite decision’s results, viz a viz our situation?”
“If you say no?”
The speaker nodded.
“I leave you here.”
“I see.” Grant stood up, and gathered the rest of the crew, including the sleeper from the corner. She saw them all glaring at him as he repeated one thing, over and over again. Finally the giant one slapped him and he nodded through stung tears. Grant turned, but instead of speaking he merely gestured to the giant slapper.
“Where d’we sign?”
“It’s a no contract situation actually. I like to think of it as more of a collective, really, than a company or gang of-” Grant cut in.
“Figure of speech, madame. We’re in.” He really was an imposing bastard.
