A Meshuggunah Pirate Movie

by Cheryl Petterson
with snark interludes by Mylochka and Cher

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PAGE FIVE

At the kiss, which had the attention of each and every one of Kirk’s men, the crew of the Raven quickly retrieved their weapons and attacked.

“I knew it!” Ruth crowed.

The Enterprise crew was taken completely off-guard,

Del shook his head. “Damned if they not some tricky vitches…”

and MeiLin held the kiss as long as she could, knowing all of the Commodore’s attention would be focused on her for those crucial moments.

“Yeah, that’s the reason,” McCoy cackled.

Then, with a wicked smile, she backed off, giving Kirk a hard right cross straight to his jaw.

“Ooo!” winced a majority of the crowd, including the captain of the Enterprise.

“James,” Han reminded him, her cheeks still pink, “it’s just a movie.”

Laughing wildly, Cat threw her one of the ropes that had brought them from the Raven. MeiLin quickly counted her crew, then whistled sharply. Each grabbed her lifeline, and in seconds they were swinging back to their own ship, leaving the men of the Enterprise scrambling.

“Yes!” Ruth cried, pumping her fist in the air.

“Pirates rule!” Ryan seconded enthusiastically.

She saw Kirk getting to his feet as she landed on her own deck, her crew scrambling to the canons.

“Fire at will!” MeiLin cried, and before Kirk could utter a single oath, a hole was torn into the side of the Belleza Del Mar.

“Me poor bairn!” the Chief Engineer cried out instinctively.

Scott bellowed, and as cacophony reigned, Jasmine quickly raced to the wheel. The Raven’s sails were trimmed as the frigate turned windward, carrying her away from the galleon and the Enterprise that was at the portside.

“Suck on that, Enterprise!” Sakura crowed, exchanging high-fives with Tara Ryan before settling back down in her seat and apologizing, “Just a movie” in her normal voice to her crewmates sitting nearby.

A cheer went up from her crew, the last of the aft cannons giving the galleon’s bow a final blow. Cat gave her captain an impulsive hug.

“Like sweets to babes,” she grinned. “Cap’n, if ever I doubt you again, you have my permission to keel-haul me then ’an there!”

MeiLin smiled back. “And don’t think I won’t take you up on it, girl.”

“And I bet you would, wouldn't you now, little lady?” McCoy chuckled warmly.

“Believe it, Leonard,” Jade agreed with a particularly frosty smile.

Cat laughed and turned to continue giving orders to the crew. MeiLin stayed at the rail watching the Belleza Del Mar and the Enterprise growing smaller as more distance was put between them. She savored the taste of Kirk’s lips on hers, sighing just a little to herself.

Someday, John, she promised both him and herself. Someday.

“When you consider the conventions of this type of melodrama,” Han began in a credibly cool and detached manner. “Combined with the therapeutic dynamics of the collective zeitgeist of the crew, this subplot is, of course, entirely in keeping with archetypal patterns of the genre that one could reasonable expect might come to the fore…”

“Of course,” her captain agreed.

“Yeah, sure,” the Chief Medical officer grinned.

~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~

The fog had again rolled in, but Takeda had memorized the path to a safe beachhead and he and DelMonde had rowed in near-blind. They pulled the rowboat well up on the sands by feel and spent the remainder of the night huddled in its cramped environs. The dawn came up clear and bright, and they unloaded their craft, fashioning a cover from driftwood and foliage and the small boat itself. They rested, ate a small meal of salted pork and potatoes, Také scowling when Del insisted they each also eat one of the accursed limes.

“Because the vitamin content counteracts…” Chekov tried to explain before he was silenced by a smack.

“We’ll find native fruits to replace them soon enough,” the Frenchman promised with a half-hearted smile.

“Or maybe some tequila,” Del suggested.

“If only the British Navy had thought to fight scurvy with margaritas,” Sulu mused.

“It might have eased their problems with conscription…ow!” Chekov rubbed the back of his head. “Why don’t you strike them as well?”

“I haven't grown enough hands… yet,” his girlfriend answered, glaring a warning at the row behind her.

Takeda only grunted. The meal was washed down with a cup of grog, then the two rose to return to the beach to erase the signs of their landing.

“This place not so bad in daylight,” Del commented, then stopped as Také held up a warning hand and crouched just before the line of vegetation gave way to open beach. Squatting himself, Del peered over the Asian’s shoulder. There were two figures crossing the sand. One was a beautiful young woman who kept looking anxiously over her shoulder.

There were appreciative wolf whistles from the crowd which Monique acknowledged with an indulgent wave of her hand.

The other, bare-chested, picking through the driftwood, selecting some pieces, rejecting others…

“Puke,” groaned the Cajun. “Put on some damn clothes, why don’t ya?”

“God’s death, it’s Chekov!” DelMonde hissed.

“An’ that’s your ass son,” the engineer smiled.

He quickly crept back to their supplies, grabbing his pistol, then returned to Také.

“But we’re unarmed!” the Russian protested.

“Don’t worry,” his roommate assured him. “I not gonna shoot Monique or nothin’.”

The Asian signaled a plan with silent hand gestures, and they waited until both the girl and their First Mate had their backs to the tree-line, kneeling on the beach, apparently attempting to construct a crude raft. He and Také crept stealthily forward, then, with a cry, Takeda leapt forward, grabbing the girl around the waist as Del took aim with his pistol straight at Chekov.

“Say goodbye, Moscow.”

“As if,” Daffy fumed furrowing her brow at the screen in a concerted attempt to revise this plotline.

Mais, if it not th’ Commodore’s missin’ catamite,” Del said with a sneer.

“I not even know what that word mean,” the Cajun proclaimed for his Captain’s benefit.

Chekov rose slowly. “Master DelMonde,” he acknowledged,

"Now that a good start," the engineer conceded, "but I doubt it gonna save your miserable hide."

then scowled at Takeda. “Unhand that woman!” he demanded.

Gollub landed a sound smack on the back of her beloved’s head. “And after I was all with the saving you!”

The Asian’s expression was one of amused hostility.

“Who gonna make him?” Del taunted.

“I outrank you both…” Chekov began.

“You not gonna outrank a bullet, dumbfuck.”

Del gestured with his weapon. “This be evenin’ that out just a li’l, I be t'inkin’,” he smirked.

“The Commodore will have you both keel-hauled for this!” the Russian exclaimed.

“You see him anywhere ‘round here, boy?” DelMonde grinned. “’Sides, we no longer in th’ employ of Her Most Gracious Majesty.” He leveled his pistol. “I not know how they do this in Russia,” he continued, “but I'd be shuttin’ my damn mouth ‘bout now if I was you, Moscow.”

“You have mutinied?” Chekov cried, aghast.

“Actually,” Sulu corrected, “I think we deser…”

“Deserted, actually,” Takeda replied, still holding fast to the struggling girl.

“What he said,” the helmsman finished.

“This is an outrage!” the Russian shouted. “I will see you both tried and hung! How dare you threaten an officer, leave your posts, desert your fellows, mutiny against your commander! I will personally see you whipped before the entire crew, clapped in irons, shackled in the ship’s brig…”

“Jus’ shoot him,” the Cajun begged his on screen persona.

"Give me one good reason why I not kill him right now,” DelMonde snarled to Takeda.

“Can you?” the engineer challenged Takeda’s real life counterpart.

“Sulu!” the Russian protested when the helmsman hesitated. “

It’s just a movie, Pavel,” Sulu soothed his fellow officer.

~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~

Takeda’s quick mind swiftly evaluated the situation.

“You’d better come up with something,” Gollub warned.

Staying with the Russian would near guarantee they’d be found, sooner or later.

“Bozhe moi…”

But if they let him go, he’d rat them out for sure.

“You gotta know he gonna...”

With him as their captive, they might well be able to bargain with Kirk for a writ of release, freeing them from looking over their shoulders for the Navy for the rest of their lives.

“There is that,” Chekov agreed hopefully.

“That a mighty long shot.” The Cajun shook his head. “An’ you a mighty big target.”

“Shut up, Del!” Daphne Gollub had her eyes squeezed closed and her forefingers pressed to her temples just under her visor -- presumably to aid her concentration. “I’m working on it, bubee! I’m working on it!”

They needed to question him, to find out what had happened to the pay chest. He couldn’t imagine the Russian actually having tried to keep it for himself, but he surely knew what had happened to it.

“When have that dumbfuck ever known anyt’ing worth knowin’ ‘til everybody an’ their brother already know it?” the engineer argued. “An’ when has it ever been worth half th’ shit you gotta go through to make that stubborn li’l bastard do anyt’ing he not want t’ do?”

“Son of a bitch!” the chemist exclaimed, vigorously massaging her forehead with the fingers she could squeeze under the visor to increase the power of her thought transmission and elbowing poor Geoff Redford until he did the same.

And from the bands of iron at the wrists, ankles and throat of the girl who struggled against him, both had been held captive, perhaps even by the Chinaman himself.

“Screw that motherfucker,” the Cajun suggested sourly.

Ruth whirled around in her seat, eyes blazing. “Del!”

“It jus’ a damn movie, cher,” he replied unconvincingly.

In revenge, Valley began to mimic Daffy’s hyper-concentration technique.

The haunting call returned to him, clouding his mind for a moment, filling him with both longing and urgency. If this girl knew something, could lead him to the Chinaman…

“Sorry, Del,” Sulu apologized, putting his fingers to his temples too.

“No, we may need him,” he answered DelMonde’s query at last. “To bargain with Kirk. And this one – ” he lifted the girl momentarily off her feet “ – may be able to help us with the Chinaman.”

“Screw all o’ ya’ll,” the engineer said, his lips twisting to one side as he frowned intently at the screen. “I can do this shit by myself if I have to.”

The girl began sobbing.

Non, monsieur, ayez la pitié, si vous plait!” she cried piteously.

“Damn but you is a fine, fine actress, girl,” the Cajun had to pause and say.

Without taking his eyes off Chekov, Del began to speak to her in rapid French. At last he said, “She not wanna go back t’ the Chinaman,” he translated. “She do anything we say if we not force her t’ go back”

“Tell her we intend to kill the Chinaman,” Také said grimly. DelMonde’s eyes went wide. “Tell her!”

“Oh, no you don’t, Roy!” Ruth said, turning and focusing a ferocious fingers-to-forehead gesture at him.

“I – I speak the King’s English, monsieur,” she stammered.

“That’s the Queen’s…” Chekov began and DelMonde snarled.

“Oh, for God’s sake, shut up!!” Gollub took her fingers off her forehead long enough to smack her boyfriend in the back of the head.

“I am not actually saying…”

The chemist silenced him with a frown and a gesture that commanded him to emulate her concentration technique.

The Russian had raised his fingers to shoulder level before he had to protest. “Daphne, my thoughts have no power.”

The Cajun snorted. “That the damn truth.”

“Shut up!!”

“Then you know I mean what I say,” Takeda returned.

“It is too dangerous,” the girl said breathlessly.

“Leave that to us,” Také told her. “Take us to his lair and we’ll let you go.”

“You are both under arrest!” Chekov stated boldly. “By the authority of Queen Anne…”

“You slack-jawed, knock-kneed, bone-headed jackass,” the Cajun cursed his doppelganger. “Jus’ shoot th’ li’l bastard!”

DelMonde cocked the pistol.

“Oh, no you don’t!”

“René, we need him!” Takeda snapped. “We can use him to bargain with Kirk!”

The Frenchman scowled.

“Oh, yes I do!”

”But we can always kill him later?” he asked.

The Asian grinned nastily. “When he’s of no further use.”

“You're safe for the moment, Moscow,” Del muttered, slowly releasing the trigger of his weapon.

“Ha, ha!” Gollub crowed.

“Motherfuckin’ hell,” the engineer growled.

Then he showed his teeth. “But lemme show you how we do things in Takeda and DelMonde's navy.”

He cocked his fist and landed a hard blow to Chekov’s jaw, ignoring the girl’s shriek.

“All right,” the Cajun sighed, greatly mollified. “That make it almos’ worth it.”

“Bind his hands,” Také ordered. “Then, lovely young miss, you’ll tell us what we need to know about the Chinaman.”

“He could not have possibly knocked me out with one punch,” the navigator complained as the scene transition music began to play.

“Wanna bet?” his roommate replied.

Another solid smack landed on the back of the Russian’s head. “Quit complaining or I’ll let him shoot you next time.”

“I thought you fell over real nice, though,” the Cajun said judiciously. “You always could take a punch like a pro.”

“Thank you, Noel,” Chekov replied graciously, then frowned. “I think.”

Jade Han was smiling as she wrote on her statboard.

“Don’t you think this is getting a little out of hand?” the captain asked, trying not to look like he was glancing at her notes.

“On the contrary, James,” she replied, pulling the board to her chest. “This is exactly the kind of release I was hoping this would provide.”

Jim sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~

Commodore Kirk hated dealing with merchants. It had been one of Lieutenant Chekov’s duties, and the young man had been exceptionally good at it.

“Suck up!”

“Kiss-Ass!”

But if the Enterprise were to continue its search – and indeed, its very function in these waters – supplies were needed. The fact that Kirk had to attempt to procure said supplies on a voucher of credit made for particularly unpleasant negotiations.

The chemist shook her head. “Cash on the barrel-head.”

It was made doubly so when Kirk remembered how easily he’d been played, not only by the Turkish dogs, but by the blasted pirate wenches.

“Isn’t there a fast-forward on this thing?” the captain of the Enterprise wondered aloud.

MeiLin had made a fool of him in front of his crew. He’d made a fool of himself.

“Some sort of executive override would seem reasonable,” Dr. Han agreed, already in the midst of composing a request.

How had he ever let her get so close to him? How had he let her kiss him?

The Chief Medical officer grinned. “I like it just fine as is.”

The discomforting notion that Samuel McCoy had been right about his ‘obsession’ was a stinging nettle in his side.

“Bones,” his commander frowned, “You are a stinging nettle in my side.”

“And a pain in a few other places you could mention?” the surgeon replied unrepentantly.

Yet – when he thought of her soft lips, her dark, beautiful eyes, the whisper of her voice across his ear….

“Just a movie, Doctor,” Kirk felt the need to assure the psychologist.

“Of course, Captain,” she replied smoothly.

“Of course, Captain,” McCoy echoed, then snorted. “In a pig’s eye.”

Pull yourself together, man! he chided himself severely. There’s your crew’s well-being to think on!

“Sage advice,” Kirk agreed with his on screen self.

It hadn’t been a terribly pleasant duty so far. Several of the merchants in the small British settlements took the opportunity of having the Commodore at hand to express their dissatisfaction with the state of the protection that was to be afforded by the Royal Navy. That they had all reluctantly agreed to the credit vouchers he’d signed was the only sweet spot in an otherwise thoroughly sour day. His last stop was the most difficult. The men had to have their grog, he knew, and his officers their rum and brandy, but Mistress Rosen was a handful on the best of days.

“Hey!” the chemist protested.

And this certainly could not be counted among the best.

“If you’re looking for credit after I’ve been robbed,” she conceded. “And isn’t that what the farkaktah Navy is supposed to be there to prevent in the first place?”

As he expected, she greeted his appearance with a blistering tirade.

“What is it you’re wanting from me, Commodore?” she demanded shrilly. “Shall I tell you of my week so far?” she continued without waiting for his reply.

“Daphne,” her boyfriend reproved the character automatically.

“First I'm robbed – twice, twice mind you – then the god-cursed corsairs come in here to try me a third time, and when I prove to them my coffers are empty, they up and take my partner instead! I’ve not seen hide nor hair of your fine Master Chekov, who promised to come see me, though God knows I should know better than to trust a sailor’s word,

“Daphne!”

“She can’t hear you,” the chemist reminded him, then folded her arms grimly. “And she does have a point.”

and now here you come wanting credit? Is this the kind of fine protection my Crown’s tax provides?”

“Mistress Rosen, I understand fully your dissatisfaction,” Kirk began, trying to keep his face at least neutral. “I’ll tell you true, I’m none too happy with the state of affairs myself. But my crew’s pay has been waylaid for months, and if I’m to keep any order at all, I must provide for them. I promise you, the Crown will back my credit with interest, to be paid as soon as…”

“As soon as the stinking pirates nab another shipment!” Daffy snapped.

“Yeah!” Gollub agreed vehemently.

“Daphne!”

“There’ll be no chance of that, Mistress. My ship will meet the next courier well away from the coves that harbor the brigands.”

“And you’d think there might have been that thought in your head afore this!” was her bitter reply.

“Daphne!”

“Well, he should have.”

“Aye, Mistress, I’ll take my drubbing for that.” He sighed. “But about the credit…?”

The innkeeper’s bright green eyes glared at him,

“Daphne!”

“What?”

“He’s the Captain,” the Russian reminded his girlfriend as quietly as possible.

“Oh,” Gollub relented grudgingly. “Right.”

then she, too sighed. “Aye, Commodore. “What will you be wantin’?”

She wrote down his order with curt nods of her head, then snatched the signed credit vouched from him, tucking it neatly in the bosom of her dress. “This will be delivered to your ship by nightfall,” she said. “Now, if you’d care to order something for your personal use, to be paid with your personal coin?”

“Just a movie, sir,” the chemist reminded her commanding officer.

“Of course, Miss Gollub,” the captain replied.

“Another time, Miss Rosen,” Kirk declined. “I have much to attend to. But about Lieutenant Chekov – he’s been missing for near three days now, so I’d ask you to not think unkindly of him, or his promises.”

“Missing?” Daffy gasped. “Commodore, when was he last seen?”

“At th’ end o’ my gun barrel,” DelMonde supplied.

“Noel,” the navigator corrected. “That’s where not when.”

“Yeah,” the engineer agreed grimly. “An’ it when not if you gonna get it.”

"Put a sock in it, bub,” Gollub warned.

“When I sent him to retrieve our pay chest,” Kirk returned grimly. “We found our dinghy deliberately wrecked – but no sign of bodies nor blood nor other mayhem.” He bent his head in respect as Daffy’s eyed filled with sudden tears.

“Oh, Daphne,” the navigator smiled.

“I may puke,” his roommate opined.

“I may punch you,” Gollub threatened.

“We’ll find him yet, Miss Rosen,” he vowed.

He watched as her face grew determined. “Aye,” she murmured. “Then God speed to you, Commodore.”

Kirk left the Sweetwater Inn with much relief. At least he needn’t fear mutiny – for another few weeks, anyway.

“Thanks to me,” the chemist congratulated herself. “A not-quite-as-poor-as-I-was-at-the-beginning-of-this-scene person.”

“If that Navy credit turn out t' be any good,” Del reminded her.

“He better hope it does,” Gollub frowned.

“Daphne!”

“It’s just a movie, bubee…”

~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~

Aboard the Raven, Cat Valley was near cackling in delight. “Worked like a charm!” she enthused to her captain. “Did you see the look on Kirk’s face?

“Yes,” McCoy grinned. “Yes, she did – from very close range.”

“Bones…”

T’was almost worth not havin’ his damned sovereigns! Do you think he bought the story ‘bout the corsairs settin’ us up?”

MeiLin offered a small smile. “It has the virtue of probably being true,” she replied.

“All the sweeter,” Cat grinned. “Tis a wonder that Queen’s ass can still be taken in.

“Ooops!” Ruth Valley turned and called to the back of the room. “Just a movie, Bwana!”

You’d think he’d figure out by now that ev’ry time you pretend t’ give in to him, it’s always a trick.”

“Yes,” McCoy pretended to be puzzled. “You’d think he would notice that…”

“Leonard…”

MeiLin face softened into the strange, wistful look that was becoming all too familiar, and Cat’s grin faded. “Yes,” the captain murmured. “You’d think he’d notice.”

“A fast-forward feature.” Dr. Han underlined the words.

“Kissin’ him as our signal was a nice touch,” Valley offered cautiously.

“Yes.” MeiLin smiled. “I thought so.”

“I did too.”

“Bones…”

“Leonard…”

“T’was all it was – a signal… aye, Cap’n? You’re not goin’ soft on the bastard, are ye?”

“You needn’t worry, Cat,” the captain replied. “My girls always come first.”

“Aaarrrr…” Valley muttered, and MeiLin’s thought returned to where they had been; planning the Raven’s next move – and the strength of John Kirk’s arms around her.

“This is working wonders for my morale, Jim.” The surgeon nodded with a broad smile. “I think you should consider instituting a regular schedule of these things.”

“I think I should consider instituting walking the plank.”

~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~

The supplies took the rest of the day to load, first into the Enterprise’s remaining dinghies, then onto the great ship herself. The men were grumbling, even while glad of the supplies. The fact that none of them could now afford any of the pleasures of port life made for labor harder than the physical. A few of the officers had wives in the Governor’s town, but there would be no fraternizing as long as the Governor was unhappy with their inability to roust out the pirates and corsairs. It did have the benefit, however, of making the crew believe in the solidarity of their commanders.

The evening meal was apportioned from the new supplies, and afterwards the crew went wearily to their hammocks below, while the officers retired to their above-decks bunks. Soon the ship was quiet but for the creaking of the hull, the lap of the waves, and the soft snores of the crew.

On the deck, a figure emerged from one of the barrels that was supposed to contain Mistress Rosen’s finest grog. It was dressed in pants, striped socks and low boots, with a short-sleeved jacket over a shirt that seemed too small, for it exposed a bare midriff.

“Oh, no..” Chekov frowned.

A head-scarf covered most of the figure’s hair, only a few dark wisps escaping it.

“What?” his girlfriend asked.

It glanced around with satisfaction, then crept silently to the hold, climbing quietly down the stairs.

The Russian shook his head at the screen. “It can’t be.”

Bodies were swaying with the rocking of the ship, their hammocks folding gently around them like cocoons of hemp rope. The figure bent, moving beneath them, until it found one that was empty, then agilely hauled itself into it.

Del began to grin. “I pretty sure it is.”

There was a blanket folded at its foot, and the figure pulled it up, nose wrinkling at the smell. Arms folded outside the covering, the figure sighed.

“Is who?” the chemist asked peering at the screen.

I’ll get to the bottom of all this if it’s the last thing I do, Daphne Rosen thought to herself with grim satisfaction.

“It’s me! It’s me!” she squealed with delight.

“Bozhe moi…” her boyfriend sighed woefully.

In the back of the room her captain began to rub his forehead as if a sudden pain had developed there. “Oh, no…”

~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~~~~***~~~

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