FSE

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"I don't take on live cargo." Cici reached under the collar of her jumpsuit and scratched the dense fur beneath. "What else you got?"

The spaceport lighting made a kiln of her radiation resistant suit. She flattened triangle Corgi ears against her skull and pulled the quilted fabric away from her neck, not that it helped in the least. The stoat manning the cargo counter blinked beady, unconcerned eyes back through the window at her.

"We have this." The weasel's nose twitched back and forth until Cici had to resist the urge to snarl, or possibly, pound a furred paw against the Sheersteel window plating. "You've been on this rock for three weeks, Captain, and your docking fees are in arrears. The Bald Rock delivery is available, pays an advance that should cover your debts here, and fits inside that closet you call a cargo vessel. More importantly, it gets you off this--how did you word it--worthless lump of gravel--today. Which I'm sure you've guessed will make us both happy."

"I don't take..."

"Live cargo. Yes. I heard that the first three times. Unfortunately," The woman smiled a nasty, prick-toothed grin. "This is all we have left."

Cici blinked back. She probably should have played nicer out of the gate. She most definitely shouldn't have insulted the planet so loudly, even if she had just been on the worst long haul of her life, even if it was the ugliest lump of gravel she'd ever made port on.

The stoat's smile suggested she agreed.

"Fine." Cici sighed and reached a paw into the divot in the Sheersteel to sign the cargo manifest. "Have it delivered as soon as possible."

"Of course, Captain. You can trust that we'd like you gone just as much as you'd like to go."

"Nice."

Cici turned her back on the counter and marched across the port authority office. The orange couches were vacant, no lines here, no spacers waiting for outgoing cargo to keep them moving, moving and not stewing on a backwater planet racking up fees. She'd been right about this hell hole, but the stupid locals had apparently taken it personally.

Or possibly, it had been that bar fight last night. Cici cringed. She'd have to add damages to her bill, and she prayed the live cargo advance would cover both. One more night on this world, and she'd have to take on more than she could carry just to get off planet. But live cargo... Man. She'd sworn that off for good after the flea incident.

Outside the sliding doors, the docking pads had some signs of life. Cici stifled the urge to scratch again. Two gallons of industrial flea spray and too many sleepless nights after that fiasco. She stormed between a row of gravity sleds, nodded at the old hog manning the rentals and tried to smile. Be nice, make friends not enemies.

The landing field was ringed with bays, most empty. She weaved between the trickle of foot traffic, other captains, port workers and scavengers doing their best to make a living offering services and goods to the newcomers. A muskrat with a pushcart full of local fruits tried to wave her over, but Cici ducked her head, hurried her feet and kept her tail tightly between her legs.

She triggered her com when bay 14 came into range. "Barc, pick up. I need the hold ready for action."

"You sniff us up some goods, Captain?" The ship's bot had a sense of humor that had nearly cost him his cranial orb on a few occasions.

"I did. But you're not going to like it."

"Not bugs. No more laboratory shipments, Captain. You promised."

"Not bugs." Cici had no idea why he complained about the fleas. It hadn't been his fur the bitey little monsters had taken up residence in. "But live, unfortunately. I'm going to need your help with this one, Barc."

"Understood, Captain. And the hold is clear. It's been ready for over a week now."

"Great."

"I assume the money's good, if we're taking on live cargo."

"Good enough to get us out of here." Cici waltzed through the bay entrance and favored her ship with a wolfish grin. The Dogfish might have been a closet, but she was pretty. Sleeker and faster than most cargo haulers, she'd kept them from getting boarded more than once and still had enough hold space to pay her way so long as Cici didn't get too greedy.

The silver freighter had her ramp down, and her interior exposed like the harlot she was. Cici yipped her joy at the thought of being space borne again and scampered to her loading ramp just as Barc appeared at the top.

"You're in good spirits, Captain." The bot looked like an insect. Not quite as fat as a flea maybe, but its thin, bare metal appendages definitely suggested a bug of some kind. Once, as the dents peppering its metal chassis suggested, Barc had seen combat. The stenciled letters stood for Battle Automaton Repurposed for Cargo. Cici used the designation to name the thing, mostly for her own amusement. Now Barc narrowed compound LED eyes at her and whirred in irritation.

"I want to fly, Barc."

"Good. Because it looks as though our load has arrived." One articulated limb unfolded to point back the way she'd come.

Cici turned around, caught the hover barge that had to have been trailing her the whole time. She also caught a whiff of her new cargo on the wind, a fresh snoutfull of something live... and delicious

"Are those birds, Captain?"

"Chickens," Cici growled. "Damn it all."

"Uh oh." The bot rolled down the ramp at top speed. "I think you'd better get up front, then. I'll supervise getting them on board."

"Right." that had been her plan too, the orders Cici had meant to give. It still rankled, set her hackles on edge when Barc thought to say it first.

"Better stay up there too, Captain."

"No shit." Cici curled her upper lip and whipped her tail from side to side. She made a fast retreat, up the ramp and away from the captivating scent of poultry. Before she hit the access door, however, she snarled over her shoulder for Barc's benefit. "Keep them contained!"

One short hop and the damn birds would be offloaded. She'd have enough pay and enough distance to pick up a better run. All she needed was to get away from that smell and stay there. All she needed was something in her belly as soon as possible.

Cici slammed the access door on the cargo hold and took the short hallway to her bridge. A snack and then liftoff. She leaned against the wall and let out a soft whine. What could possibly go wrong?

***

"Pirates on the scanner, Captain." Barc's voice brattled through the ship's com. "Vector five."

"Got it." Cici toggled her ship's display and calculated trajectories. She had speed on her side, but pirates would definitely have better weapons. "Planning evasive.. whoa!"

The Dogfish lurched toward port, and Cici's chair rattled under her Corgi arse.

"Captain?"

"More than one." Cici poked at her controls, rolled the ship forward into a nose-first dip and cursed under her breath. Their shields would only take a few hits like that. "Vector eight too. Hang on back there!"

She'd forged a reputation for delivering her cargo intact and unspoiled that--aside from the damned fleas--had yet to be broken. That sort of trust meant the difference between making a living and selling yourself to some smooth skinned alien as a pet. Cici cringed and considered the armor plating on the hold for half a breath before toggling full shields to the fore of the ship. Alive anywhere was better than blown into molecules in the vacuum.

She checked engines, speed, and rolled the dogfish neatly back to port when the next shot blew past their nose. A screaming pirate Bowdart flashed past her viewer. The black and gold symbols on the hull burned into Cici's retinas. Razor Horn's crew.

"Captain?"

"We're toast, Barc. It's the devil knocking."

"The cargo, Captain."

"Pray for it." The ship jumped again, took a glancing hit off the shields. They'd circle her though, come up from below and to the rear where she'd thinned the shielding. "Pray for us."

She slammed a furry fist against her controls, howled once, and then pounded the enormous red button to the left of her shielding. Cici hurtled her ship into a random jump. The Dogfish blurred around her, translucent and full of stars. Her fur pulled at her face, dragged against the rules of matter while her lips rippled and the eyes in her sockets blinked crystal shards into her brain.

"Owwwwwwwwwwwwww!"

No pirate ship Cici had encountered could keep up with the Dogfish when she'd gone hell-bent. They'd escape, cut at least two days off their cargo run, but also possibly kill the cargo in the process. The plating bucked and tore at its rivets. The ship groaned.

Something in the cabin clucked.

The ship's com brattled static, punctuated by the frantic voice of her bot. "Cap--c--captain. Ch-ch-ch."

Cici pressed the red button again. Her skin oozed back onto her skull, and the ship solidified around her.

Cluck, cluck.

"Barc!" She hollered into the com and scanned the bridge with aching eyes. "Check in, Barc."

The viewer showed a clear sweep. Nothing at all in all her vectors. Cici recorded current coordinates, adjusted her shields and inhaled through dilating nostrils. Mmmmmm, chicken.

"Barc!"

Cluck.

Her nose twitched again, followed by the lolling of her tongue. Cici snapped out of it, shook from her head to the tip of her tail, and unbuckled her restraints. She was a freighter captain, and she had a reputation to uphold. Her ship was a civilized beast, and so was its... She choked back a growl. So was its captain.

She bent down and peered under the consoles. Tiny amber eyes gaped back at her. An impossibly slim neck stretched up, showed the flesh beneath ruffled feathers. A fat, round body hovered below this on twin scaly legs.

"Get out of here." Cici swallowed too much saliva and tried to shoo the bird out with her paws. "Move it. Barc!"

The com failed to answer. She didn't want to think about why. At the moment, she had to get the chicken off her bridge. After she'd pulled that off, she could worry about the situation in the cargo hold. If she could pull that off. The stench of poultry wafting off her stowaway already filled her nostrils, doing its best to knock her brain offline and trigger instincts she'd pay for later.

"Shoo. Scat!"

The chicken clucked and tilted its head. Slowly, the bird inched out into the open while Cici waved her paws and made a constrained effort to herd the thing. She eased out of her chair and shooed the half de-feathered ball of delicious poultry toward the hallway between the bridge and the hold.

Cici held her breath as much as possible. She could do this. She didn't kill things. She ate pre-sealed, dehydrated rations like any sensible Corgi. The chicken waddled down the hallway, and Cici stood taller and remembered she was not an animal.

The stupid thing just looked so panicked. Even waltzing at a waddle down her corridor, it had a frazzled, frantic expression that made her mouth water. She shook it off proudly, composed herself and backed the chicken up to the cargo hold door. Just a little farther.

She triggered the door, kicked out with one leg at the same time. The bird squawked and fluttered through the opening. It ran in a rocking, long-legged stumble across the hold, which had fallen entirely into chaos.

Barc rolled past the door. His limbs all stuck out in various directions, and at least half of those had poultry perched upon them. He bleeped, a sure signal of distress, and called out at the sight of her. "Captain!"

Chickens ran everywhere. Round bodies perched atop their crates, atop the piles of cargo netting, and on her bot. They ran or fluttered across the hold at random intervals, and everywhere she looked, Cici saw feathers. The aroma in her hold washed over her, gave her knees a slight wobble.

"Barc!"

"Having some difficulty, Captain."

"What's." Cici sniffed, growled. "Happening. Cargo."

"Only one of the crates was damaged." Barc rolled past in the opposite direction in pursuit of a ruddy, long-necked hen. "Just rounding them up now."

Cici rolled her eyes. She clamped her jaw shut and watched the chickens run. Legs churning, fat body wobbling, and that expression. That sound. It filled the cargo hold, the clucking. Frantic, panicked chicken voices. She stepped through the doorway and reached out for the controls.

"I've got this, Barc." The door slid shut, locked her inside with her cargo. "I've. Got. This."

The captain of the Dogfish dropped to all fours and snarled.

***

The tortoise behind the port office counter blinked at her and rubbed its beak.

"Delivery," Cici said. "Bald Rock crates."

"I see." The woman adjusted her glasses and re-checked the paperwork. "Captain of the Dogfish."

"Yes."

"How long will you be staying?" The tortoise leaned to one side until it rocked in place. It eyed the derriere of Cici's flight suit skeptically.

"Cardigan Corgi." She waved her tail. "And unfortunately we'll have to depart immediately. Though I find your planet delightful in almost all ways."

The woman blinked again.

"Too much?" Cici grinned, felt the prickle of a pin feather that had gotten lodged in her back teeth. "Just long enough to unload our cargo. Then we're off again."

"I see." The manifest rattled in bony hands. "Six crates of Bald Rock poultry. Delivered."

"Yup. Six crates." One of which was light a few birds and patched together in places.

"Sending barges."

"Oh, okay. Sure." Cici scratched behind her ear and nodded. A feather had worked down inside her uniform. It itched against the small of her back. "Wish I could stay. Such a lovely place."

"Hrmph." The tortoise cleared her throat and tapped her fingers on the counter. "Sure."

Cici already scooted away. She waved once more, both paw and tail, and then hauled ass out of the port authority building.

"Barc?"

"They're all unloaded, Captain. Are the barges coming?"

"Yeah, but don't wait for 'em." She dodged the port hawkers and hover sleds like a half-bald chicken being chased by... "Get the boat ready to fly, Barc. I'm almost there."

"Before they retrieve the crates?"

"Before they have time to count the damn birds." Cici stifled a burp and hustled to her ship.

"Won't we be taking on new job?"

"It's an Ag. world, Barc." Cici inhaled a whiff of a whole planet's worth of livestock and ran for all she was worth, howling, "We don't take live cargo!"