A PIRATE'S PARADE

Jul 15th 2011, 08:22 by E O Hatterpol | 1228 AU FROM SUN

I had angry Starbase policemen stuck to the velcro walls in the trampoline room behind me and a military bagpipe band surrounded by spectators in front of me.  Where the shell was I supposed to go?


It was difficult to think about my next move amidst the noisy fanfare.  Onlookers were throwing confetti in all different colours and slapping each other on the backs with big grins on their faces.  The bagpipes blared a beautiful tune of victory that sounded like the plaid kilt designs of old Scottish clans.  


I decided my best move for now would be to squeeze my way through the crowd until I got close enough to the front, both to see what was going on and to blend in.


I took a closer look at the procession, then craned my head back to the trampoline room to see if the policemen had unstuck themselves yet, but then immediately did a double-take when I realized I had just seen a 900-lb. grizzly bear in overalls beating gong-sized war drums with skillet-sized paws.


It was Sergeant Likes-to-Fight and the crew of the Starship Dryheave!  I was relieved to see their smiling (if slightly sloshed) faces leading a long parade of musicians, soldiers and even Flybrarians through the grand square.  I hadn't the least idea where they were going, though.


I recognized Z-man by his Fu Manchu moustache, playing a bonny tune on his pipes; the Rooster Man was cock-a-doodle-doo-ing through a spunky trumpet; Colonel Condor himself led the column with a great big glittering baton like you might see a Shako sporting at the halftime band show of a college football game.  He had put on his best uniform, shined his shoes & smoothed the feathers of his condor-shaped moustache to perfection.


But then I almost lost it: in the very center of them all, shackled in chains and held firmly by three soldiers on each arm was none other than Captain Makemake, the saltiest space pirate to ever sail the sable seas of outer space.


He looked exactly the same as he had the last time I had seen him, except the wounds from Ravi's paper throwing star blizzard had healed.  He didn't seem to be limping very much from having thrown a Meteor Knee into a cave wall, either.  But one thing about him was unmistakeable: a bottle of Whale Ale jutting out of the massive crater in his head. 


It was the same one I had driven into his skull in an attempt to kill him maybe two months earlier.  He'd never be able to take that out; if he did, it'd end his life for good.  I had given him no choice but to bear the mark of my monstrous act for the rest of his days.


I knew instantly that they were taking him to a cell on Starbase Octopus to be tried for his crimes in the Kuiper Belt.  After I had tried to kill him, we had kept him in a holding cell of the Starship Flybrary, but he had been eventually transferred to the Starship Dryheave for "questioning".  Whatever Colonel Condor did with him, he must be finished now.


Fear burst from my spinal cord and went searing through every vein, every nerve, every little capillary in my body.  The fight-or-flight response was almost enough to overwhelm me; I didn't know if I should run away from Captain Makemake or try to kill him again.  After all, I did have a new sword and shield now.


But then a certain group of people I disliked made that decision for me: the Left Hemispheres (LHs).  LHs had the day shift aboard the Starship Flybrary, so they dressed in yellow uniforms the colour of the sun.  Most Right Hemispheres (RHs) liked to make jokes about how they actually wore yellow uniforms because they thought everything revolved around them.


They were strut-strutting along the sides and back of the military procession with their chests puffed out in pride.  That made me angry.  What the shell did those little Leftie punks have to be proud about?  They didn't end our fight with Captain Makemake; Ravi the Stompyface and I did.  


Shell, they probably encouraged the Carptain to run away from me back on the plutoid Makemake, the cowards.  And now that somebody powerful - Colonel Condor - had Captain Makemake under his watchful eye, they were all too happy to flit about and cherry-pick my success like fish cleaning hippo teeth.  That pissed me off.


You know what? I said to myself.  I defeated this bastard.  I'm not running away from Captain Makemake -- I'm going to look him straight in the eye.  Like a man.