Skullduggery was to be expected in the annual Port Vanguard to Alpha Station Sprint. After all, the Sprint was the premier event on the calendar of any pirate worth his flaming pigtails, and the rules did include the distinct phrase, 'win at any cost.'
       However, Captain Janus the Terrible bribing one of our cabin boys to smuggle a biochemical weapon onboard just reeked of desperation. He was desperate, of course. Not only had he never won the hallowed race, but in the last three editions, he'd found himself runner-up to yours truly, a fact I knew he was aware of because I reminded him about it every chance I got.
       "Status?" I barked at Lex, my quartermaster, who was only slightly bleeding from the eyes.
       "Still in the lead, Captain, and remaining out of firing range, though I think Janus is toying with us."
       "Let him toy. Maybe someone will put a torpedo up his aft."
       Lex coughed. "Hopefully, Captain, hopefully."
       "Poxy," I yelled, even though the second master's chair was right next to my own.
       "Two-thirds of the crew still functioning and at their stations," Poxy replied, "including the doctor. But that number is dropping by the minute."
       I scratched at my scalp, and a huge chunk of hair came free. My favorite dreadlock, if I wasn't mistaken. "Get Gerald up on comms."
       Gerald was a scientist. I'd stumbled upon him while raiding a research center on Olley's Comet and, after he offered a very compelling pitch as to why his life should be spared, had inducted him into the crew. I'd especially enjoyed the tearful groveling at my feet while professing undying loyalty to me aspect of his proposal. He had tried to escape a couple of times since then, which made me suspect he hadn't been entirely authentic, but I'd kept him around nonetheless, figuring he'd come in handy.
       After a moment, he appeared on the giant screen that dominated the hull-side of the bridge. His skin was sagging and not just from lack of nutrition.
       "How goes it?" I asked.
       "Slowly," he replied.
       I thumped my fist on my armrest. "We don't have time for slowly."
       He locked watery eyes with me. "I know, Captain, but I also don't have the equipment necessary for something like this."
       "What do you mean? I pillaged the best workstations on Olley's for you."
       "Yes, and I'm very grateful," he said without sounding grateful at all, "however, despite that, this really isn't--"
       I held a hand up. "Don't say this isn't your area of expertise. You're a molecular biologist. This is exactly your field."
       "I study the building blocks of life, not of death."
       "Semantics. Now figure something out, or you won't be able to study anything. Savvy?"
       He sighed. "Yes, Captain."
       I drew a hand across my throat and Poxy cut the connection. "Infirmary is overrun," he said. "We're almost at minimum operating crew." He held a hand up. "And we've got comms incoming. Janus."
       "Put him through," I said.
       The screen lit up once more, this time filled by a man with an overly large face. A scar sliced through one of his eyes, while the other was a cybernetic. He'd boasted to me once that the cybernetic was a Vallay, one of the premier brands, but I was pretty sure it was a knockoff. He also had a really stupid pointy beard that he liked to pull at when he was talking.
       "Ahoy there, Captain Caspar the Dreadful," he crowed. Dreadful wasn't my moniker. I was currently in between titles, actually. I'd tried Crafty for a while, but it hadn't caught on.
       "Well, well, if it isn't Captain Anus," I replied. "Sorry, I always forget, but the J is silent, right?"
       "Boring, boring," he said. "You need some new material. That was, dare I say it. . . dreadful, Captain." He grinned, showcasing yellowed teeth capped in silver, then continued, "Anyway, I just wanted to pop in and see how you're going. Box of fluffies, I'm sure?"
       "Couldn't be any fluffier here."
       "That's good, because it looks like your nose is bleeding."
       I swiped a hand across my lip. He was right. At that moment, Lex groaned, the sound quickly followed by a thud as he slipped out of his chair and hit the floor.
       "Anyway," Janus said, "I better get on. Race to win and all that."
       "Yes, you're right, I do have a race to win." I motioned for Poxy to end the feed and looked over at Lex. "You okay there, matey?"
       "Fine, Captain," he wheezed, "just need a moment, is all."
       "Get Gerald back on," I said to Poxy.
       A thick sheen of sweat now covered Gerald's face and one of his eyes was definitely hanging out of the socket a little bit.
       "Where are we at?" I shouted.
       "As you might. . ." He nudged the protruding eye back into place with the heel of his palm. "As you might be aware, there are some very interesting microorganisms on Olley's. One harvested batch was in the lab fridges you took. It turns out that the molecular signature of one of those microorganisms has intriguing similarities to the toxin. With a little finesse--"
       I waved a hand. "Faster, man, like our lives depend on it."
       "Ah, basically, I may have a way to neutralize the toxin."
       "Beef and biscuits!"
       "But there's a big possibility it might accelerate the spread of the agent within one's body instead. And I have nobody to test it on."
       "C'mon now, Gerald. You figured out the big picture, but missed the easy solve. Just plug it into someone in the infirmary and see what happens."
       "But Doc has locked the doors. There was some rioting, apparently, and he's saying nobody in or out until the situation is resolved. Plus, we really need to test this on someone who isn't too far gone yet."
       I knew exactly what needed to be done. "Bring it to the bridge. I'll be your guinea pig."
       A flicker of something that might've been satisfaction crossed Gerald's sweaty, sagging face. "Are you sure, Captain? There's no telling what might happen."
       "Of course, I'm sure." I turned to Poxy. "Go fetch him. And hurry. That dog Janus will be overtaking us any moment."
       "Aye," Poxy said.
       "And make sure you bring everything he's synthesized. Everything."
       Poxy nodded and stumbled from the room.
       Lex was still breathing, but his eyes were closed, and froth dripped from his mouth.
       "Don't worry, old salt," I said, the words struggling out over a tongue that suddenly felt very swollen, "we'll have you back to fighting fit in no time."
       There was nothing to do but wait, so I brought the official race feed up on the screen. We remained in the lead, which was to be expected given that we were still on the Sprint's opening leg and had the best sub-light engine of all the ships. However, we were fast approaching our first mandatory waypoint, Pale World, a non-spherical ice planet with several rings that were prone to unpredictable behavior. On top of that, the Spendari Federation had a military facility on the surface, and their fighter fleet was sure to scramble and engage the moment we popped up on their scans. I needed my top pilots on board for the approach and circumnavigation, or we'd be just the distraction second-placed Janus needed to run the gauntlet unscathed and overtake us.
       Though I'd never tell anybody this, I was sure the secret to our Sprint success was my distinctly anti-piratical strategy. I focused primarily on the race itself. While I certainly prepared for attack, sabotage and subterfuge from my opponents, I didn't spend much time on doing the same to them. Sure, I retaliated, and I always made sure to throw in a little something-something pre-race, lest my pirating credentials be called into question, but if experience had taught me anything, it was that crews preoccupied with derailing the competition never came away with the treasure chest.
       As I thought that, my sight began to blur, and a coughing spasm overtook me. Despite knowing I was dying, I felt calm. If these were to be my last breaths, at least I'd take them doing what I loved--and being totally honest, I enjoyed the racing part of piracy much more than the pillaging and raiding parts.
       The sound of shambling footsteps returned me to the present. I reined in my retching and took a few stern blinks to clear my vision.
       Poxy and Gerald. Poxy held a case of vials filled with blue liquid. He'd gone completely bald in the time it'd taken to fetch the scientist.
       "Captain," he gasped, setting the box down and collapsing next to it.
       Groaning, I pulled myself upright. "What have we got, Gerald?"
       Gerald held out a vial. "Drink this, Captain."
       I reached for it, then remembered my earlier instructions to Poxy. "Are there other formulations?"
       Gerald shook his head. Something about him felt off, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
       "He's lying," Poxy said.
       "And they're labelled, of course," I said. Gerald had demonstrated multiple times already that he was an anal-retentive son of a biscuit eater. "Give me one that doesn't have the same label as what he's holding."
       Poxy rummaged, then held a vial out.
       "No," Gerald said, swiping at the tube with far too much energy but still missing due to the fact that he lacked general coordination skills. "That's an early formula."
       He was no longer dying. That was what was off about him. The scurvy dog had already tested the correct antidote on himself. I held the vial up and inspected it. Was this the right one, or was Gerald trying the old reverse double-cross on me?
       My vision began to both blur and narrow. I was out of time. Hands shaking, I uncorked the vial and poured it down my gullet.
       At first, nothing. Then, a gurgling in my gut. Followed by pain. Immense, terrible pain that radiated out from my rib cage across the rest of my body. Howling, I fell from my chair onto all fours.
       Disorienting memory snippets flashed inside my skull. I squeezed my eyes shut, but they only intensified. The day I, a naïve boy in search of adventure, signed onto a pirate vessel thinking it was just another merchant ship. My maiden raid, puking in the corner of the hold after I'd shot a deckhand who'd been trying to cleave my skull open with a wrench. The carnage of the mutiny that made me captain, Lex and Poxy bellowing bloody murder at my side. The first time we'd won the Port Vanguard to Alpha Station Sprint, the crew showering me with credits from the awarded treasure chest while I held it aloft and chanted our signature shanty, a disconsolate Janus watching on from across the tavern.
       I clamped onto that last memory, tried to use it to douse the agony now exploding in all my joints.
       "Oh my," I heard someone say. Gerald.
       "Get it, Captain!" Poxy rasped. "Get it!"
       I opened my eyes to see that I now had giant, scaly hands. The tendons and muscles in my forearms rippled, the limbs exploding in girth while I stared. Moaning, I stood, positively towering over Poxy and Gerald.
       "What have you done?" I said, the words booming around the bridge like the bass of a thrumming starship engine.
       "I told you not to take that one," Gerald replied.
       That he had. Which immediately put things into perspective. I pointed at the box. "Poxy, get a vial down Lex. The type you gave me. And then do the same yourself."
       "Aye, aye," Poxy said, taking a pair of vials and crawling towards the prone, yet still breathing, body of the quartermaster.
       Gerald took a tentative step in the direction of the closest doorway, but I swung out with one of my massive arms and sent him flying across the bridge. He thudded into the navigation console and crumpled to the ground like a sack of loot.
       "Naughty lad," I said, but there'd be time to deal with him later. I needed something reflective. I cut the race feed from the comm screen and immediately recoiled.
       Most of my clothing had been torn away by the transformation, my new frame far too tall and muscular for those threads to handle. A horn now protruded from my forehead, just above beady yellow eyes, while a mixture of scales and tufts of white fur covered the rest of my face. And my nose! Previously beautifully Roman, it had now taken on a distinctly bovine form. Which did suit my nose ring, actually, though if I wanted to keep that look, I'd really need to upsize.
       I laughed, exposing rows of pointy teeth and a snake-like tongue.
       I was truly hideous, yes, but I was alive. And feeling downright chipper to go with it.
       "Poxy," I boomed.
       He snorted. "Aye."
       "Get what's left into all the crew you can. We're still in this race, yet!"
       Showing remarkable dexterity for someone whose body was in the throes of genetic realignment, he swiped the case up and dashed away, each step rattling the floor.
       I opened a channel to Janus. Time to share the good news. And to give credit where it was due. Thanks to him, I was on my way to having the most fearsome pirate crew in the galaxy. I laughed again. What had he called me earlier? Dreadful? The more I rolled the word around, the more I liked it.
       Captain Caspar the Dreadful. Soon to be a four-time winner of the Port Vanguard to Alpha Station Sprint. And forever after, to be in Captain Janus the Terrible's nightmares.