Buzzard Buccaneer Radio

Prologue - Promotion

Boz was sitting at his work station in communications, feeling a bit tired. The past couple of days had taken a bit of a toll. If you didn't count everything that had happened concerning that crazy ring world, you had that business with the carrier and everything that went down with on the Hollow. Boz knew it was only a matter of time before something else equally as insane happened. It came with the job description, being a space pirate and all wasn't a career for people who preferred stagnation. However, when he anticipated adventure, he had not anticipated all this crap. Hell, he never expected to be working with humans or a bunch of weird aliens from another universe.

Boz was a kig-yar, a race of bird-like creatures from the planet Eayn. He hadn't seen said planet in years though, not after taking up a commission with the infamous Fallen Serpent. Captained by the fabled son of the great pirate Fleetmaster, Dread Feather, the Serpent was a highly specialized Corvette. Upgraded with better weapons, shields and even a cloak, it was a match for any Battlecruiser twice it's size. It wasn't invincible, but the past few days had shown it could take a beating.

Boz had seen quite a bit of action over his time aboard the ship. Given all the adventures and scrapes they had been in though, this latest one was the most unusual. They had torn up their contract with the loathsome Covenant after they had betrayed the conditions Shipmaster Zek had agreed on. Then, after escaping the fleet that had held them hostage for so long, they turned right around and made an alliance with a group of humans. Among them and their regular batch of Marines, was a man the Covenant called the "False Shepherd." His real name was Commander Shepard though he actually had a more diverse crew of aliens with him, all from another dimension beyond a wormhole.

Crazy stuff to be sure, but while pirate life was never boring it could be exhausting. Communications had been a hotbed of activity over the past couple of days. Boz had barely gotten any sleep keeping up with everything. He couldn't drink any Ichor either, that made him even more sleepy. Not being able to get drunk on top of being tired was torture in itself.

One thing kept him going though, a small gift that had been procured from Commander Shepard's ship, music. But these weren't just any of the ordinary sea songs and popular tracks within Covie space, which were mostly religious in nature, so yeah, pretty garbage. No, this was human music, from a long by-gone era and it was as intoxicating and wonderous as any bottle of Ichor. He had several songs playing on loop over his personal computer, grateful that Retz, the ship's second-in-command, had seen fit to pass out some data disks containing the full playlist of songs he had taken from Commander Shepard's ship, the Normandy.

As he heard a new song come on, he recognized the tune as one of his favorites and instantly turned up the volume. It was by some old human band with a strange name that denoted an electrical charge. They were loud, rowdy, hard and heavy. They, like many songs on this playlist, spoke of freedom and chaos. This song in particular seemed to speak of the pirate lifestyle explicitly.

Shoot to Thrill, play to kill

Too many women with too many pills

Shoot to Thrill, play to kill

I got my gun at the ready gonna fire at will

Sex, drugs, violence, the life of a pirate, of adventure in general. Whatever could be said about humans, Boz couldn't deny on thing. If their music was any indication, they valued the spirit of freedom most true kig-yar desired. The intoxicating sound of the song overcame him eventually, he couldn't help but dance a little in his chair and hummed along with the lyrics aloud. However, it didn't last, as he suddenly heard another voice from behind.

"Not interrupting am I?"

Boz turned about and saw First Mate Retz staring coyly at him. He quickly turned the music down and sat at attention, smoothing his messy crimson and black quills back on his head. He cleared his throat slightly before speaking.

"Sir, apologies," he said aloud. "I was just... well, it's a good song. I wasn't neglecting anything, I'm still interfacing chatter and all that."

"Relax, Boz," Retz told him plainly, still with a coy look on his face. "You're not in trouble at all. In fact, this is partially why Zek sent me down here to see you. Would you come with me for a moment? Don't worry, I'll have someone take your place for now."

Boz wasn't sure what was going on, but he just shrugged. When Retz told you to do something it was as good as Zek telling you to do it. So, he got up from his seat and began to follow Retz down the corridors of the Serpent. There were a few workers, mostly unggoy, already painting over the purple walls, as per Zek's orders.

"I can tell things are becoming a little stale down in communications for you," Retz noted as they walked.

"I wouldn't say stale, just a bit routine," Boz corrected. "Monitoring transmissions is important, but I was just filling the position until something else opened up."

"I suppose that's why you took on other responsibilities," Retz surmised rather succinctly. "I hope you realize how much the men appreciate your attempts to make their lives a little more bearable out here. Morale is important for any ship."

Retz was speaking of course of his unofficial status as a morale officer. He kept ordering special holo programs and music off the underground galactic network. More accurately he had helped Retz set up a supply line for luxury items. Wasn't easy, and it took a while to get any of the real good stuff, but they built up a steady stream of merchandise for the crew. It was what made parties aboard the Serpent as good as they were.

"Just doing my part," Boz insisted.

"How would you like to play a bigger part?" Retz asked with a sly grin.

"I'm not sure I follow, sir," Boz replied, a bit confused.

Retz stopped in front of a large door, which Boz remembered was a spare storage room they had barely used. Retz then turned to Boz, a grin still on his face.

"As you know, we've already installed the new speaker system across the ship," Retz informed him. "Zek wants it to blast our tunes for the crew as it were. However, we're also trying to be more open in our lines of communication. Things on the Hollow have made it painfully clear that the humans want us to be more open with them. We feel there is a way to do both."

Retz pressed a switch on the door and let the room open wide. Within the room there were no boxes or supply items, but instead a newly installed console with a headset, microphone and brand new chair. It wasn't just any console though, the switches, buttons and read outs suggested it was something else. It was a specialized transmission console and giving it a cursory glance, Boz realized it was hooked up directly to the ship's speaker systems.

Boz walked up to it, sliding his hands across it, his eyes wide with interest. He turned to Retz, still wondering what exactly this was. Retz seemed to read his mind and answered for him.

"It's your station, Boz, your new comm-link transmission station," he told him. "From here, you can beam transmissions to the rest of our little fleet. All secure channels of course, should be undetectable by the Covenant. But the Normandy the UNSC's soldiers? They can hear you just as clear as any of our boys can, provided they're tuned to the right frequency."

"I don't understand," Boz said, baffled but slightly amazed. "You're... you're making a disk jockey?"

"Think of it as becoming an official morale officer," Retz explained. "You can keep everyone informed about what is happening aboard the Serpent and the other ships. It will give you the opportunity to be our voice to the humans and Shepard's people. Show them what kig-yar are truly like. There's even a comm-link line we set up for you."

Retz pointed to a box like device on the dashboard with several buttons and holographic voice display.

"With any luck, it will improve relations, giving anyone the chance to call you directly," Retz elaborated. "You'd essentially be our line to the rest of the fleet. A sort of goodwill ambassador over the radio in a sense."

Boz scratched his head a little.

"This is how we're going to open up lines of communication?" He asked. "A radio station? Seem a bit odd."

"A pirate radio station," Retz corrected. "And it's more than just that. It's our way of giving them a peak into our lives. They want us to be more open, less isolated, more involved and not on our own. We need to show them we're part of the team, at least in the sense we have a mutual interest in working with one another. Hell, I bet playing their music to them will at the very least show them we are not like the Covenant, that we value parts of human culture."

When he put it like that, Boz could see the appeal, but he still wasn't sure.

"It seems like a big responsibility," he stated. "I mean, morale officer? Goodwill Ambassador for the Serpent? It's a big step."

"Indeed, it is," Retz concurred. "But it's your chance to be your own boss. You'd have fully authority over the direction of the broadcast. Play whatever you want, talk about whatever you want. You wouldn't be doing grunt work in communications anymore, you'd be running your own operation aboard the ship. An important operation if it pans out."

Boz hesitated for a moment. It all sounded too good to pass up. He'd get to listen to music all day, express himself to the rest of the fleet. He wouldn't be stuck listening to mindless chatter all day and, best of all, he could be doing what he had been doing for awhile now in bringing entertainment to the rest of the ship. Hell, he'd be bringing it to everyone. It just sounded like a lot of responsibility to he really up for that? Being the voice of the Fallen Serpent? Representing the kig-yar on the airwaves? Was he worthy of that? Sensing his hesitation, Retz put a hand on his shoulder.

"Believe me when I tell you this, Boz," he said. "You need to seize opportunities when they arise. Your passion for music is clear to me. It has been for a long time. Now you have a chance to share that passion with others. Can you really pass that up?"

Boz thought it over, he did have a passion for it. Music was liberating, transcendent. It spoke to emotions, recounted lost stories, lifted you to higher plains and brought you to far off lands. Ever since he was a fledgling, he listened in rapt attention to the old sea shanties that spoke of adventure and freedom. He saw so much of that in the songs the humans had created. The songs were new to him, but to them they were old. Perhaps some of them had even forgotten their meaning. He could show them a lost part of their culture as he helped the crew rediscover theirs. All through these songs and hymns from a distant planet. Yes, he could be the voice of the kig-yar, he could make the humans understand them.

"Alright, you've made your case, sir," Boz stated firmly.

"Good," Retz nodded. "So, what do you want to do?"

Boz just smiled wide, a lyric from another human song entering his head instantly.

"I want to rock."