Free Pirate Loop, The by Simon Guerrier

anyone else gets hurt we can discuss what it is you lot want. From us, from the Brilliant, from life in general if you like.' He grinned at them.
     
Dash regarded him coolly. 'We gotta mission,' he said.
     
'That's good,' said the Doctor. 'Something to work towards. I like that.'
     
Dash nodded but said nothing further. The Doctor could see he was going to need some prompting.
     
'Your mission wouldn't be to pinch the Brilliant's experimental drive, would it?' he said. The badgers stared at him.
     
'Yeah,' said Archie.
     
'No,' said Dash at the same time. He glared at Archie, then said to the Doctor, 'It might be.'
     
'Figured,' said the Doctor. 'It's what I'd be after, if I was a pirate.'
     
Dash leered at him. 'We ain't pirates,' he said. 'We're entrepreneurs.'
     
'Oh right,' said the Doctor. 'Sorry, I always get those two the wrong way round. Pirates are the ones with the suits and pink shirts, aren't they? Anyway. I'm thirsty. Aren't you lot thirsty, what with all the entrepreneur-ing? Is there anywhere round here we can get a drink?' He looked all round him quickly and then made out like he'd only just seen the long bar that stretched down one side of the cocktail lounge. 'Ooh!' he said, making his way over to inspect the menu the machine barman offered him. 'A bar! Brilliant! Watchoo all having?'
     
A long mirror hung behind the bar. In the reflection, the Doctor could see the badgers watching him uncertainly. He hoped to wrong-foot them, keep their attention on him, stop them killing any more of the Balumin prisoners. 'Come on,' he said when the badgers made no move to name the drinks they wanted. 'It's my round. I'm gonna have a blue one.' He pointed to the branka juice on the menu. 'One of those, please,' he asked the barman.
     
The machine barman smoothly retrieved a branka fruit from a bowl, extended a shiny blade from its skinny arm and in a blur of quick, precise activity chopped the fruit into tiny pieces. 'You wanna watch this guy at work,' the Doctor told the badgers. 'It's like an art or something.'
     
Archie came over to join him at the bar, but rather than choosing a drink he prodded the Doctor in the arm with one of his long and jagged claws.
     
'Ow,' said the Doctor.
     
'We're bored of cocktails,' said Archie, making it sound like a threat. Perhaps, thought the Doctor, they weren't allowed to drink while they were out rampaging. These things had to have a certain discipline, didn't they?
     
'That's a point,' he said. 'I think I'm bored with them too. Hold the juice, barman.' The machine had long since stopped chopping and now stood perfectly still, poised with the glass of thick, blue liquid in its metal hand. It took the Doctor's command entirely literally, and held on to the glass until someone told it otherwise. Machines, thought the Doctor, could be dim like that.
     
He turned to Archie. 'So,' he said breezily. 'What else is there that isn't cocktails?'
     
Archie grinned at him. 'We got canapés,' he said. Sure enough, trays full of elegant finger food were laid out at the other end of the bar, by the bay window.
     
'Cor,' said the Doctor, 'they do look exciting, don't they?' He leant closer in to Archie for a conspiratorial whisper. 'Which ones do you recommend?'
     
Archie considered. 'The ones with the sticks,' he said. 'They're good.'
     
The Doctor scratched at his chin as he nodded, considering this advice. He made his way slowly to the other end of the bar and, looking up to make sure Archie was still watching, took one of the cheese and pineapple sticks. He then tried to put the whole thing in his mouth.
     
Alarmed, Archie hurried over. 'You don't eat the sticks!' he said.
     
The Doctor removed the cheese and pineapple stick from his mouth and scrutinised it closely, as if trying to make sense of its workings. If in doubt, he thought, always play it stupid. It put people – and, he hoped, badger-faced pirates – at their ease.
     
'Like this,' said Archie, grabbing his own