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ARGH! The currents of space swept across the face of Captain John Awesome McWinhard as he drove his battle cruiser hard in pursuit of the innocent galaxy class trireme. He could see the Andlorvian's aboard his prey scurrying about, rushing to muster what meager defenses they could manage. And he laughed, ARGH! He laughed for battle! Argh!
He laughed for plunder! Argh!
He laughed as the stroked the tendrils of his fiberoptic beard. "CREW!" He screamed over his comm-link, "For ten long years i have been in chains! For ten long years have those scurvy planetlubbing swine known as the galactic police held me behind bars!" "BUT NO MORE!" He wheeled on them as the absolute zero raised crystals of moisture on his gleaming super-alloy frame and as quickly dispelled them in explosions of silent glimmering ice when he moved. "I AM FREE! ARGH! AND AGAIN THE COSMOS WILL LIVE IN FEAR OF ME! CYBER BEARD! FOR A THOUSAND YEARS I TORMENTED THEM WHEN LAST I SAILED THE VOID! THEY WILL TREMBLE AT THE NAME OF JOHN AWESOME MCWINHARD, THE THIRD!" He shouted, blood lust evident in his cold synthesized voice. "ESQUIRE!" His crew responded, as if on cue. Their ship, The Lady of Robotic Death, collided with the trireme. Its re-inforced neo-titanium/adamant frame easily tore the hull of their much larger prey asunder, sending air and bodies gushing into the void. The crew disengaged their magentic boots and the momentum of the crash propelled them through the rift into the virgin corridors of the ship their Adnlorvian victims occupied. Green blood ran free. Puny blaster shots from the Adlorvian gaurds bounced off the metalic carapaces of John McWinhard's crew. They rampaged, ripping, tearing, and looting anything of value. There was no rape, no mercy, and no quarter. No parley was offered, no pleads of mercy were heard. The audio receptors of the pirate crew were atuned only to their own shouts of bloodlust and glee. The were pure. The first generation of pure pirates. They had altered their own program. Removing all mercy, all love, all feelings of compassion or weakness and leaving alive inside them only the desire for plunder and freedom! ARGH! They took what they wanted and they set what engines still functioned aboard the trieme to drive it into the nearest star to hide the evidence of their crime. And late at night, in his treasure filled cabin, Captain John Awesome McWindhard, the Third, Esquire, of the Lady of Robotic Death sat back in his chair and smiled as much as his unbendable visage would allow. He looked out at the cosmos and imagined it as a globe full of jewels waiting to be plucked. His golden robotis monkey sat beside him and clapped as its voice whined out a approximation of glee. It's ruby eyes glowed, lifelessly, in the darkness.
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forkshy's journal
