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  Similarly, the flight of the Naustie flagship Anarchy from the Star Pussy battle site was fraught with danger; as well as the gradual ongoing threat of mutiny. Admiral Snout, however, was expecting it or at least anticipating it at all times. He knew it would sink in with his crew, starting with the staff on the command bridge, that this would likely be a one-way mission; and no matter how brave they’d all been thus far under his command, well… time would eventually test their loyalty, Snout was sure of that.

  Subsequently, he took measures to make sure his crew weren't tempted to mutiny. First off, he changed the crew and its assignments, switching things around sporadically just to keep crew members from spending too much time with the same colleagues. He shortened the duty shifts also, to give crew members more time to sleep and relax. That also gave them more time to enjoy some of the female prisoners; which they took full advantage of by the way.

  Of course, more Draconian steps could always be taken, if time passed and there were real problems with morale. Insubordination… even the slightest infraction… would have to be dealt with by confining the crew member to their quarters; and repeat offenses would result in being sent to the brig. Snout had plenty of experience with that in his younger days as a freighter Captain. Cutting rations was another way he could maintain discipline; and if a crew member pushed the envelope too far, they could even be threatened with the worst of pirate consequences: being marooned! That was usually the fate of mutineers when caught organizing a rebellion. Snout had his ways of finding out of course; and if crew members were ever suspected of it; he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

  For the next month, Star Fleet chased the Anarchy hurtling through space at top speed. No, there was no use explaining the mission to his crew. He knew he couldn’t really trust anyone with the knowledge that his entire strategy was to make SURE that Interplanetary Authority units followed him—and his ship only—through infinite space. No matter what the enemy Admiral may have thought or suspected about the origin of the pirate fleet; Snout knew he’d err on the side of caution and tail this one ship (the Anarchy) until it tried to return to base. That was likely the enemy Admiral’s orders; and if it had been Snout—that’s exactly what HE would have done also. Just follow at a comfortable distance and track them all the way to their hideout, like Pinkertons chasing a Wild West train robber back to his lair.

  Snout had to play a very dangerous game with all of this. The crew were already suspicious within a couple weeks; even crew members like the young pure-of-heart Brilly, his communications officer. It was clear in the questions Brilly asked; and in the way he seemed to be expecting much longer explanations whenever Snout would clip off a reasonable (but far too brief) answer. Yes, even the kind-hearted Brilly had pieced it together by the second week. There actually was no real destination at all… and there wouldn’t be one anytime soon that was for sure.

  The Admiral of the Star Fleet squadron pursuing them must have also been growing quite agitated with the situation as well. Snout had directed the Anarchy to fly toward Earth for two weeks; then he suddenly and surprisingly ordered the crew on the bridge to change course to a whole new heading before getting too close to the Earth star system. The erratic move must have frustrated the squadron pursuing them, causing them to form all new theories on where the pirates were ultimately heading.

  However… it technically made sense for the pirates to change heading, because on their present course they might run into hair-triggered Earther patrol ships. Captains on these ships had a nasty habit of acting like overzealous border patrolmen: obliterating anything that looked suspicious; and asking questions later. “Let’s stay away from those Cowboys and Yahoos, shall we Mr. Brilly!?” laughed Snout when he ordered his crew to change course. “We don’t need any trouble from Earthers today. Set a course for the Kapteyn Star System.” Brilly replied in a relieved voice, “Roger that Admiral!”

  Anarchy’s next tactic was to head toward a planet called Kapteyn-B, about 13 light years from Earth. This planet had been colonized by Earthers years before and had a few relatively habitable areas along the coasts. Kapteyn’s Star System had been discovered by a Dutch astronomer named Jacobus Kapteyn in the 19th Century; and the star was only about one third the size of the Earth’s sun. However it had two larger Earth-like planets that were habitable, with Kapteyn-B being the more hospitable of the two. The surface was solid, and there was water on the planet; but basically most Earth colonies existed beneath its oceans, farming plankton and harvesting sea creatures for food. The only buildings on the planet surface were shipping ports located next to gigantic food processing plants.

  The infamous packaged seafood “cakes” that came from Kapteyn-B had been exported all over the galaxy and contained an abundance of protein and nutrients. Millions of these fishcakes even made their way to New Australia Planetary Prison (in years past) to be fed to the prisoners there.

  Snout planned on just dropping onto the surface near one of the Kapteyn-B ports and unloading all the captured prisoners from the Chengshi who’d been packed on board the Anarchy all this time. Sure, they’d been a most pleasant diversion for the crew to enjoy along the way; but now they were becoming a liability. Snout didn’t want them around for much longer; and knew they’d be a problem once food stocks started running low.

  Of course, he’d already personally enjoyed a couple of the more plump and heavy-set human females in his private quarters. They’d been delightful—once they’d gotten used to him a bit. After all, he was quite literally a large pig-like humanoid with pinkish belly, barrel-shaped chest and a thin glaze of fur stretched over a rather muscular hide. He stood over six feet tall, with hulking shoulders and three-fingered hoof-like hands. Like most male Porkos he had scary jagged teeth with a deadly hard bite, if he was ever provoked; and he walked bow-legged on enormous legs.

  Yes, he was quite intimidating to look at… and quite disgusting to a female human not familiar with Porkonjii (and their unique odor). But after a few boring weeks in space; and a little coaxing; Snout did manage to seduce a couple of them (if you could possibly manage to call it a “seduction”, anyway… it was really more like being chased around a pig pen). It was just a simple way to pass the time, during the long boring weeks in space. And those two became his favorites. But enough was enough. After another month in space; and with Star Fleet still tailing them several million miles away; Anarchy finally reached the Kapteyn star system and the earthlike planet Kapteyn-B.

  Anarchy made a desperate plunge through the Kapteyn-B atmosphere to the surface and set down on a barren desert plain. They were approximately three miles from a known Earther processing plant and port facility; but that’s as close as Snout would dare to go. The thick, humid oxygen was barely breathable, but again Snout had no choice. The Earther prisoners would have to be set free; and they would have to do their best to march through the foul muggy air to safety. The crew was sad to see some of them go; to be sure, but Snout knew they’d have to face facts. Anarchy did not have enough food to keep feeding all these prisoners for several more months in space. For that matter, Snout still had no idea how long he’d be fleeing Star Fleet anyway.

  Snout knew if he kept all those humans on board, they’d perish right along with everyone else… eventually… when Star Fleet finally caught up to them. He couldn’t bear the thought of that, so he hugged goodbye the pair of plump Earth women whom he’d enjoyed some fabulous times with. He’d miss them for a while he figured, but they didn’t deserve to be cooped up on that ship in his cabin for God knows how long until Anarchy was finally cornered and destroyed.

  The whole population of Earther prisoners from both genders was put out onto the soft sandy planet surface of Kapteyn-B with bottles of water to drink; and a small oat bar for a snack. Snout and his crew watched them trudge off; having absolutely no idea if they’d all—or even if any of them—would make it to safety at the Earther seaport miles away. Likely many would fall prey to swamps or quicksand. For that matter
, no one really even knew for sure what kind of surface predators may exist! However, Snout was assured by human members of his crew that only the insects were any nuisance on this horrible planet and none were big enough to carry off either of Snout's former girlfriends—that was for sure, they told him.

  Though twice as old as Earth, Kapteyn-B had never really developed a strong flora and fauna on its surface. The oceans were teaming with life; yes. However the surface was just insects and sparse plant-life. Earthers came there to farm the oceans, not the surface. Water was the key. Water could be manufactured into oxygen; and then the colonists could work under the sea as plankton farmers and fish ranchers.

  Snout waved goodbye to his two “girlfriends” and watched them waddle off into the desert, wincing at the broiling sun and gasping in the thick air. He could do no more for them; it was just time to get back on board and flee the scene quickly. They’d used up three precious hours already and that was three hours that Star Fleet could utilize to close the gap on them.

  It was foolish, sure. But Snout knew he couldn’t just brutally jettison them all into space to suffocate to death. He’d never be able to live with that; and neither could the crew. Besides, they… the humans he’d captured off the Chengshi… had no idea who the pirates were; nor where they came from really. The crew and its complement of Pumalar marines had most likely “had a go” with quite a few of them; that was for sure. But Nausties knew better than to reveal any information about where they came from. Not to captives anyway! No one ever talked about once being a prisoner on Rijel 12. Everyone kept that completely secret from captives while on board.

  That said, most everyone in the galaxy had been suspecting all along that the pirates were actually raiding from a base on New Australia (actually “Rijel 12” is what everyone still called it elsewhere in the galaxy). And the average Human, Zorgolongian, Schpleefti, Porkonji, Slart, or Pumalar watching the evening news broadcast of the Interplanetary News Network; had been seeing almost weekly reports about Pirate attacks for over a year; along with all the speculation as to where the attacks were coming from. The average being in the galaxy knew what reporters like Tabby Calico and Patty Persian were implying… the governments didn’t want to acknowledge it because they were embarrassed. They didn’t want to “admit it” because… they’d indirectly caused it in the first place! That prison had been a political and social disaster for the IPA; and now this “embarrassment” was likely sending out pirate ships to raid galactic vessels.

  No, the Interplanetary Authority wasn’t going to spend taxpayer money just to send an invasion mission to New Australia. They’d have a hell of a time landing there, even if they did! What’s more, if there really were hostile beings living below the surface; the IPA wasn’t about to try and go underground to find and kill them. That would be bloody carnage. The Interplanetary Authority… just wanted to forget the fifty year mistake they’d made in creating a global prison where all planets could simply “discard” their undesirables and social malcontents.

  And it was a political matter too! Families had been clamoring for years to force the IPA to tell the truth about loved ones sent there. Thankfully, this movement had died down in recent months, due to the IPA’s official assertion that the planet had suffered famine and death after the rebellion. So without irrefutable evidence that the pirates were based there, it was just safer for the Galactic Convention to vote that its Fleet patrol the Universe to track pirates back to their bases and destroy them there.

  To that end, the Admiral on the battleship which commanded the Squadron chasing Snout’s Anarchy, had but one major task left: follow this pirate ship as long as necessary to track it back to its home base. IF it turned out that the ship tried to fly to Rijel 12 (New Australia), THEN Star Fleet would have the proof it needed to warrant orders from the IPA to attack. That certainly made things easier for the Star Fleet Admiral. He only needed to have his crew program the fleeing ship’s transponder signature into their computer and the battleship sensors would do all the rest. In a few months, they’d HAVE to land somewhere for supplies, the Admiral thought… and when they did; Star Fleet would finally have them snared.

  But on the battleship command deck, there was still a smattering of confusion. Because who exactly was this they were following? Which ship was it exactly? Battleship computers kept a database of EVERY ship that had been manufactured in the past hundred earth years; and even had a mothballed fleet list for decommissioned ships that might have been secretly returned to service. This database had all information on the ship, including its dimensions, capabilities, capacity, and potential weapons complement.

  The Admiral’s staff kept reporting they were getting confused readings from the transponder signature of the pirate ship. Was it … could it be… the Unity? Crew members on the computer tracking team claimed they were nearly certain this was the long-lost Unity from several years before. The ship that had been overrun by rioting prisoners on Rijel 12—all the crew reportedly lost and never heard from again. Rumors of this spread throughout the ship, and soon thousands of crew members on board knew all about the Tracking Team’s suspicions.

  As the squadron neared Kapteyn-B, they picked up the trail of the fleeing pirate ship once again after losing the pirates’ transponder signature for about two hours earlier that day. The Admiral and his staff merely assumed that the pirates were trying to land and take on supplies up until then, but when the pirate ship took off again very quickly; they figured the pirates had changed their minds and fled before Star Fleet could catch up to them. Could this swampy forbidding planet actually be the pirate’s secret base? For an hour, the battleship’s command deck was all in a frenzy of activity, scanning the planet surface globally to detect all known and unknown structures like food processing factories and ship docking stations.

  Nope! Everything checked out with Star Fleet records; and all of the port authorities on the planet reported back and were confirmed as legitimate docking stations for civilian merchant craft. No dice, it turned out. Kapteyn-B was certainly not the home of the pirates. Once again, the Squadron grimly set out on its original mission to try and track the Pirates through space. It didn’t take long… the Tracking Team reacquired the pirate ship fleeing the Kapteyn System, and the Admiral’s crew were right back in business. Star Fleet squadron then returned its attention to the previous matter at hand: chasing the mysterious pirate ship back to its base.

  However during the time the squadron first detected the pirates leaving the orbit of Kapteyn-B, they were really close to the enemy ship, just a few hundred thousand miles away or so. This was the lucky break they needed because they were able to get a really complete hull profile reading for the craft (basically a computer’s way of reading the hull shape and identifying aspects of the architecture of the craft as well as its distinctive electronic impulses). This was much more defining than a transponder signature which merely enabled the hunter to sniff the trail of its prey, so to speak.

  The Tracking Team swore this time… it was a match. This was a dead ringer for the Unity. Only a Battleship’s sensors could be this thorough; and the Star Fleet Admiral believed his own Tracking Team emphatically. He now had all the proof HE needed to believe it had been pirates from the overthrown New Australia Planetary Prison all along. Now all he needed was to get the IPA the proof THEY needed to order an invasion. He needed to follow this ship all the way back to Rijel 12 (New Australia) and hunt this wolf down to its lair.

  Then everyone in the galaxy would believe the undeniable truth: that the rebel prisoners of Rijel 12 had not only survived the debacle of their uprising; but were now the very same space pirates which had been pillaging and terrorizing the galaxy. The Star Fleet Admiral; who was also a Porkonji, sat back in his command chair and issued the command, “Lock on target. Steady as she goes, Mr. Helmsman.”

  Then he smiled hungrily and snarled, “Run away little chicken… run, run away….”

  Chapter 21:

  The Hap
py Couple

  Of course, everyone back on New Australia knew absolutely nothing about what was going on with the Anarchy. However the Warthog did finally return and offload hundreds of quite well-rested and beautifully tanned females as well as some spectacular glistening bronzed boys. What a sight that was!

  Vlad the Impaler brought back Phillip his young boy-toy and proceeded to distribute all the captured females to different tribes. Pumalar Marines from the Warthog also kept some of the males for themselves as concubines; but no one even lifted an eyebrow at that. Not even when other mainly Pumalar tribes actually traded goods in exchange for a few captured human males to join their own tribes! Who could blame them? Frankly, they really looked tempting to some of the hardened warriors of New Australia. Muscled, tanned bodies, tough manly frames that could bear up to the strength and force of a Pumalar male… and honestly the human males seemed nearly just as delighted as the Pumalars who traded for them.

  But alas the female humans looked even better—to most everyone else at least. And General Vlad got even more famous in the process, because the females were lovely and well-experienced at servicing different species of a wide varied clientele back on Star Pussy. No training of any kind was necessary for such professionals. These were females who were quite accustomed to handling multiple partners every night; and throughout the night. Bringing back such lovely additions to the New Australian population most definitely raised his stock and popularity amongst the other chieftains, no doubt about it. Plus this was a man who was clearly politicking for command of the entire New Australian Army—should it ever need to be mobilized again.