The Alienbutt Saga, Book 1. War of the Coffee Bean. Part 6.

Piestoff stood waiting nervously in the hanger-bay with Nifty and Blackarachnia. Wickede’s shuttle was just entering through the bay doors. Blackarachnia had only laughed for about half an hour at the boots and now stood softly giggling whenever he looked down at Piestoff’s feet. Nifty had kept a better control of herself but couldn’t keep the smirk from her face. The shuttle landed before them and the door slid open. Wickede started to walk out, then stopped, he looked at Piestoff then at his feet, then at Blackarachnia who was again in danger of losing control of himself and making strangled chuckling noises, Nifty looked away, furiously coughing behind an upraised hand and not wanting to make eye contact with the new arrivals.
“Was there a fancy dress party last night?” he asked, unable to take his eyes off the boots. Blackarachnia doubled over, tears streaming down his face while even Nifty lost control and couldn’t help but laugh.
“The cat pissed in my boots,” answered Piestoff. He turned and stormed off. Behind him the sound of a fresh round of laughter followed him.

Piestoff was half way to the bridge when he heard running feet behind him. He turned around to see the short form of an Ick running to catch up. In truth he wasn’t angered by Blackarachnia’s laughing at his boots. He knew how ridiculous they looked. What was bothering him was the fact that he was supposed to be going into a fight, with guns, and he hadn’t done that before. Piestoff was scared as the other side would have guns too and despite the many bar brawls he had been in, no one had ever actually shot at him.
The Ick came to a stop before him and saluted. “Commander Alienbutt, could you join Wickede and Captain Blackarachnia in the Captain's office?”
“What? I’m not, I don’t have a rank, I’m not a commander, more just the cleaner really.” Piestoff looked confused but started to follow the Ick as he headed on towards the bridge and Blackarachnia’s office that was just next to it.
He would be there before the others and have to wait.
“I think you may find that Wickede may have given you the rank, a sort of title for services to the Ick.”
“I haven’t done anything for the Ick,” said an even more confused Piestoff. “You're only the second Ick I’ve ever spoken to.”
“You haven’t helped the Ick yet but you will. I’m Commander Snoodgrass, or just Snoodgrass and I’ve done bugger all too to get a rank, and I’m sure you’ll meet many more of our people before long.” He grinned and pulled out a hip flask, took a quick drink and passed it to Piestoff. “Single malt whiskey, works well to stop you getting nervous.”
“I just use it to get drunk,” shrugged Piestoff. He took a longer drink. “But if it can stop me being,” he paused, “nervous, I could get used to using it for that job too.”
Piestoff handed the flask back to Snoodgrass a good deal more empty than when he took it. “That’s good stuff you got, much better than I usually drink.”
Snoodgrass grinned. “The secret is to block out the nervous part of you but stay alert. I always have a nip or two before any big event, a trick I learnt from Wickede.”
They reached the door to Blackarachnia’s office, and rather than wait Snoodgrass went right in. Piestoff paused a second and then followed. The office was dominated by a table and twelve large chairs. Going to one end of the table Snoodgrass started to press on the table before five of the chairs so that small monitor screens popped up from the smooth table surface. “If you sit next to me during the meeting I’ll explain anything you miss later on.”
Walking over to the wall he switched on the sensor viewer screen and Piestoff looked at the Ick fleet that came into view on it. Five dreadnoughts had met up with Blackarachnia’s ship and now stood waiting. Piestoff wandered over to the screen and looked out into space while Snoodgrass slumped into a chair.

“How’s your bum-plugs working out, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Piestoff turned around grinning. “Great, I haven’t had a leak since Wickede sent them to me, the best gift I’ve ever had.”
“I’m glad they work, I had to work from bits of old information that escaped your home world’s destruction, but very little escaped on how to make the bum-plugs so I wasn’t sure how well they would hold up.”
“You made them?” Piestoff looked shocked and came to sit by Snoodgrass, who looked embarrassed.
“Wickede asked me to after you met him on Sloppystool.” He had the good grace not to mention the fact that when his old butt-plugs had failed he had almost killed Blackarachnia, but had managed to destroy a major landmark on the planet Hardstool.
The old butt-plugs had never worked that well anyway. They always left an aroma around Piestoff that kept most people at a distance. Further conversation was stopped as the door slid open and Wickede entered followed by Blackarachnia and Nifty. This was a different Wickede to the one Piestoff remembered from the police interview room. The crumpled, hungover playboy was replaced by a confident leader who knew what was going on. Taking a seat at the head of the table, Blackarachnia and Nifty sat opposite Piestoff and Snoodgrass.
“Alienbutt it’s good to see you again. Nifty explained about your footwear problem but we can catch up properly later. Our little fleet will be setting off for the Omiga five sector with all speed, so transport between ships will be impossible for the two days while we are at light speed, so that’s plenty of time to share a few drinks.”
“So what’s the job Wickede; six dreadnoughts is overkill for even the largest criminal band out there?” asked Blackarachnia.
“O.K. Blackarachnia we’ll go straight to business. Snoodgrass could you explain to our friends what’s happening?” answered Wickede.
Snoodgrass sat back in his chair and was silent for a moment composing what to say. “The Outer Systems have always been a hideout for pirates and others who operate outside the Federation laws. Having no standing armies and a law enforcement force that can’t cope with even the inner systems, keeping order out there has always fallen to local governors and the bounty hunters. Larger colonies have had defences strong enough to repel these mainly disorganised bands, but over the last few months several large colonies have been destroyed. From the reports that we have received, it appears that those bands have united and become organised. In response to those reports, bounty hunters will be gathering ready for a combined offensive.”
“It won’t work, Wickede, bounty hunters work alone or in small groups.” Blackarachnia got to his feet and walked over to the viewing screen. With the fleet already having set off and in light speed the screen had gone gray. He turned it off. “Us bounty hunters are great hunters and fighters but we are no organised army.”
“That’s why the Federation, or rather the Coffee Barons have hired fifteen Ick dreadnoughts to be the core of our little band of hunters. We already have our spies and probes out hunting for where they are based,” answered Wickede.
Blackarachnia turned to face the table chuckling. “The Imperial Ick Navies working for the Coffee Houses, your father would disown you, Wickede.”
Wickede smiled. “It’s in the Book, so he probably knew about it.”
“What book?” asked Nifty. The question was asked innocently but Piestoff knew from experience the question was the tip of an iceberg.
Piestoff looked at first Wickede and then Snoodgrass, both sat a little more upright, but it was Blackarachnia who spoke. “Some Ick holy book that’s supposed to tell the future. Wickede’s father placed great stock in it from what I heard.”
“And?” pressed Nifty, her eyes locked onto Wickede’s and for almost a minute the tension built under the sledge hammer stare of Nifty.
Finally Snoodgrass coughed and both switched targets to the unfortunate Ick advisor. “The Book is obscure and often rambling. Quite often events happen before we can work out what a passage means, but it tells of a war that’s going to happen and we believe this is the first shot. The problem is as we approach this war, the Book is becoming even more difficult to fathom.” Snoodgrass shrugged his shoulders and stared at the monitor in front of him, not wanting to face Nifty’s gaze.
Piestoff glanced at Wickede and saw that the Ick leader had sat back into his chair. He noticed Piestoff looking at him and grinned.
Nifty stood up and her gaze fell on Blackarachnia. “Have you read this book?”
Swallowing hard he nodded once. “It made little sense even when Wickede explained parts of it to me.” His gaze fell to inspecting his shoes.
Piestoff saw a twinkle in Nifty's eye, then looking at Wickede again she smiled sweetly and said. “May I have a read of your book too then?”
“Certainly, you’re in it so I don’t see a problem with that,” answered Wickede with an evil grin, as Nifty’s face drained of colour. “It was written about two thousand years ago at the end of the first age of the Ick Empire though. The phrasing is a little antiquated,” he continued. He then looked at Blackarachnia. “Are you going to get the drinks out? I’m parched.”

And that's it for part 6.
Thanks for reading, all images are my own work.