The Captain and I (I)
Story by Dungeoneer on SoFurry
The expedition to find Flint's famous treasure receives another, more combative member in a tweaked version of the Disney adaptation. The story will be mostly the same, but with a big twist: rather than a steampunk, physics-lacking universe, this story's universe is your average space opera, although other than that the plot will follow the movie and the background lore is still there, just modified, and maybe use some parts from the book.
Sam cursed his rotten luck as he walked through the starport. Crescentia wasn't all that bad, all things given, but he'd rather be on the beaches of Fidji.
"But no. They had to send the damned letter."
Serving directly under Amelia Smollet wasn't all that bad. Sure, Sam wasn't allowed to drink, or smoke, or gamble, or even go to the whorehouses when in a leave, but you saw the galaxy, battled pirates and Procyon privateers, even fought the odd aggressive whale (you got a tad more coin from them, their oil was worth their weigh in gold). So, exciting on a deck, pretty damn boring out of one. But then again, Sam was lucky to even be allowed given his... lack of modals.
Oh, right, sergeant Samuel Nicholas, or Sam for friends. A mountain of a red haired man, six and four feet in height and broad of shoulders, his lower jaw covered by a nicely trimmed coat of hair. Humans were rare in Crescentia as it was, but one only a few species surpassed in overall size? Only him.
He was also the man Naval Intelligence turned to when something that interested them came up. Counterfeiting rings? Secret deals with the procyons? Ancient ruins that might or might not have something of interest in them? He was their man. That he was also handy with both a blade and a gun was more of an added bonus.
But a treasure hunt? Under the thrice damned Amelia Smollet? Why, he was already killing buccaneers with his bare hands while she was being drilled in how to be a proper lady! Granted, she ended up being more than that, but still, it was the sentiment of having to serve HER several times what counted! It didn't help she was the daughter of a count, while he was... what did those rich bastards call him and the rest of the hard-working sailors?
"Right, gutter trash." Sam muttered to himself as he sighted the frame of the Legacy. Mind, not all of those were like that, but most were lower aristocracy, not proper nobles at the eyes of the higher ups.
Even for a hardened veteran of twelve years, the Legacy was a sight to behold, a corvette equipped with the latest in both armament and propulsion... and yet, this ship had been hand-picked not for what she had been built for, warfare, but to search for the quintessential child tale.
Sam's pessimism turned to tired joy when he saw a familiar rocky being drapped in the uniform of a leftenant standing on the Legacy's boarding platform. In turn, the cragorian's frown turned into a smile when he recognized the human approaching him.
"Nicholas!"
Sam had met Arrow in his first sortie with Smollet. Just as hard as the stone that made up his body when in uniform,
"Arrow, man!" He was probably the only human in the galaxy capable of receving a full arm shake from a cragorian and not only not wince, but return it. "How's the family?""
"Mr. Nicholas!"
And then someone landed in front of them. From a nearby, twenty foot high platform. Damn felinid agility.
Sam found himself looking down at a smirking felinid female with green eyes, a daring look on her face as she looked up back at him.
"It seems fate has reunited us once more, sergeant." Her smirk suddenly vanished as her nose wrinkled, catching a scent you couldn't, and then she turned around. "The perfect time to meet our passengers, too." If only did she know she gave you a perfect view of her body.
For a felinid, she had a nice bod, but then, she was the only officer in the navy less than thirty years old.
Her grey leather pants did nothing to hide her derrière, and in fact even enhanced it, making the arse look bigger and the hips wider than they seemed, not to mention her thighs, fit yet muscular enough to let her jump several times her height. Her bosom was also quite fine, not the largest he had seen, but big and jutting enough to be on a respectable second place, the tight blue jacket emphasizing her bust size. To top it all of, those deep green eyes held a shine on them that one could get lost in.
A pity she was both of a kind he disliked, and with the attitude of said type.
"Sergeant, let me introduce you to Doctor Delbert Doppler and young Jim Hawkins, from Montressor. Doppler here is the one funding our expedition."
A canid doctor and a human teen stood in front of them. Sam wasn't particularly impressed by the former: the guy, buck toothed and big eyed to begin with, looked like a walking tub with all that metal on, and he was clearly out of his depth. The boy, on the other hand, reminded Sam of himself: a troubled look on his face, rather apathetic eyes that looked everywhere, faint but visible scars on the left cheek and above right eyebrow... Other than his neat clothing, he seemed to have come out of the gutter like he had been.
"Doctor, eh? What can you do? Can you fix my bum knee?" He was perfectly healthy, but Sam wanted to find out what kind of doc he was.
"I'm not that kind of doctor, I'm afraid. I'm a librarian." Doppler replied with a nervous smile.
Sam rose an eyebrow at that, and not a happy one. He had nothing against those in charge of data, he liked to read both from screens, holograms and physical books alike, but Doppler seemed like one of those bookish types who would rather read about exciting stuff than partake on it.
"And you, boy? What can you do? You a miner?" He had a rather wiry built, thin but lean, the body of a handyman.
"I'm handy with machines, small engines mostly."
Well, at least he could do something.
"So, ma'am, where's the rest of the crew?"
"They're right around us, sergeant." Smollett replied without looking at him.
Twenty or so members of so-called crew dotted the deck. None of them were human, at least outwardly, and nearly all were men. It was obvious none of them were part of the Royal Navy, and in fact looked more like they belonged in the underworld of a main world.
"They're not Navy personnel." Sam morosely noted.
"The pooled funds were only enough to hire a freelancing crew for the mission, I'm afraid."
"Sorry about that." Doppler apologized sheepishly. "We librarians don't get paid that much."
Sam exchanged a look of wariness with Arrow. Both you knew the problems of hiring a freelancer crew: being essentially mercenaries hired solely to crew a ship, their loyalties laid with whoever paid them the most and, ultimately, themselves. That the ONLY real Navy personnel on the journey would be him, Arrow and Smollet made Sam feel the shivers, but then, he wasn't there to lead, only to find out if this treasure was real... and be a sergeant.
"Sergeant, could you please turn this mottley rabble into a proper fighting force? I don't want them to die in case we got boarded." Smollet said as she left for her cabin, Doppler and Hawkins in tow, the entire deck looking at Sam and Arrow with confusion, excitement, and even thinly hidden hostility. That would not do.
Well, time to earn the play.
"Alright, you scum!" He shouted at the crew. "Stand in a line so I can see ya!"
"Who the hell are you?!" One of the crewmates shouted back. He looked very mean, a black and red skinned crarachnid. Sam instantly disliked the guy, so he did as a proper drill would do: walk up to him and punch him against the wall.
"I'm the man who will beat discipline into you lot, or kill you trying, whichever comes first! And call me SIR! Understood, you idjiets?! And call me SIR!"