Hold My Beer

by Karina Fabian

  Jeb stood up and pushed Prince Petru aside. “Okay, playtime’s over. Time to let the adults take over.”

  “How dare you patronize me,” Katrin exclaimed.

  Jeb smiled. “You’re cute when you’re riled. Captain, as soon as those Cybers recalibrate, they are going to be meaner than a nest of angry hornets. We’ll cover you. Get the princess back to your planet.”

  “No,” Katrin shouted. “You must save Petru. I demand you get him to safety.”

  “You’re just full of demands, aren’t you, young lady? Lucky for you, in this case, I agree.”

  She nodded. “We will cover your escape, then. Captain Courageous, to the fray!”

  Behind her, Captain Courageous shut his eyes as if praying for patience.

  Jeb shook his head. “I have a better idea. Why don’t we give you the prince and you both get to safety? Captain to Chief Dour, teleport the Prince and his councilor to the Kandor ship.”

  “No.” Dour said.

  “’No’?”

  “My mistress forbids it.”

  “Captain,” Doall chimed in, “the Cybers have begun a telemetric sweep of the system. If we transport anything now, they could intercept and absorb the signal information.”

  “What was predicted has come to pass,” Dour concluded.

  Jeb sighed. “The old-fashioned way it is, Cruz, get Donner to prep a shuttle. LaFuentes, have security find Edor and get him on board. We’re sending him and the prince to that ship.”

  “Not without my Loreli,” the prince insisted.

  “My duty is on this ship,” she said from her console by Doall, where she monitored the behavior of the Cybers in hopes she would have insights to help them in or at least some really cool data to pass on in case of their deaths or integrations.

  “Brave Loreli. This is why I love you. Then I will stay at your side.”

  “Incoming transmission from the Cybers, Captain,” Doall reported. She put it on speaker for both ships to hear.

  “We are the Cybers. We are many, yet one. We will integrate your uniqueness to our programming. Prepare for disintegration and reintegration. We are…”

  “Blah, blah,” the Captain concluded and signaled for the transmission to be turned off. “Doall?”

  “Cybers are almost done recalibrating to this system. Shields are up and holding, randomizer is running with three crewmen inserting changes at will. A complaint has been sent to Union Intelligence concerning their recent report on Cyber activity. And Minion First Class Ja’az in Environmental Science wins this week’s crisis pool. Donner is in the shuttle bay and warming up the Killians.”

  “Excellent work. Ensign Gel, escort our guest to his escape. Cruz?”

  “Donner’s on the way, Captain.”

  “We don’t have time!” Katrin exclaimed. “Don’t worry about us. I have six sisters. Maybe one of them will better please the prince. Get him away and we shall defend you. Courageous, send the others to engage the hive.”

  That command, apparently, Courageous could get behind. He sent the two other ships dashing away to provide a diversion.

  Katrin said, “Captain Tiberius, get your ship out of here. We’ll cover your retreat.”

  Petru gaped at her. “You…you would sacrifice your people for me?”

  In answer, one of the Kandor ships exploded under the Cyber’s attack.

  Petru flung his arm out of Gel’s grasp. “Then we fight together! Captain Tiberius, I demand control of this ship.”

  Katrin set her hand on her chest. “You…would fight with me?”

  “With you and for you – and always at your side! I am sorry, my Loreli, but my eyes have been opened.”

  Loreli gave him a gracious nod. Katrin squealed with joy and clasped her hands in a very dainty and un-warriorlike way. Doall clicked some buttons and 30 credits and miscellaneous chore vouchers went to Minion Martinez in Security for winning the ship pool on how the two royalty would finally fall in love.

  Captain Tiberius, meanwhile, slapped his head. “Gel!”

  Gel oozed his viscous body over the prince’s arms and legs. Petru screamed.

  “Quit whining. You could have walked out on your own,” Gel said as he frog-marched the prince out like a puppet. Despite the warning, Petru kept shouting protests. He struggled so much that they left a trail of spatters. Immediately the Impulsive janitorial services dispatched a roving shop vac to suck up slime that dotted the floor and walls. It would later separate the bits of Gel and carry them to Sickbay to be put in stasis to reintegrate with the enthusiastic security minion later.

  (Fun fact: Gel’s species has fully adaptive DNA. Every molecule can be repurposed on the fly to take over some vital function. In fact, while this species does mate, they are perfectly capable of cloning themselves from even a tablespoon of their own fluid.)

  (Fun Fact 2: It’s going to pay the dedicated reader to pay attention to parenthetical comments.)

  (Fun Fact 3: I’m planning on a long-running series. If you expect immediate payoff, grow accustomed to disappointment. And now, back to our story…)

  When the lazivator doors shut on his last desperate cry, the crews on both ships breathed sighs of relief.

  Jeb took a step toward the screen – or rather the teeny camera at the top of the screen that would note his authoritative move and focus on him instead of the closed lazivator door. “Now, young lady, you let us captains do our jobs, or I swear by my pretty flowered bonnet that I will send my security officer with the prince to escort you off that bridge.”

  Jeb didn’t know for certain how the translators handled swearing by dainty headgear but whatever it used, it was effective. Katrin paled, then stepped back with a bowed head.

  “Shuttle away,” Cruz reported. “Moving to engage the Cybers.”

  “LaFuentes, when we’re in range, fire at will – or better yet, the Cybers.” Tiberius said.

  Enigo chuckled. That joke never got old.

  “Captain, the Cybers are targeting the princesses’ ship!”

  “Cruz, get us between them. Engineering. Deary, I need all power to the shields.”

  “Aye, Captain!”

  “Into the jaws of death we go. Let’s kick a hive!” Cruz said.

  Doall sighed. “Metaphor mixing. Captain, they’re firing!”

  Before she finished speaking, the shields flashed bright, because, after all, light travels fast then sound or human reaction.

  LaFuentes didn’t even bother to announce his intentions. The captain said he could shoot; no one had to tell him twice. Among the pyrotechnic light show in the screen, they could see the Kandor ship moving toward the shuttle.

  “Shields at 60 percent and holding,” Doall announced. “About one in three of our blasts are getting through. Their shields can’t adapt fast enough.”

  “You can’t adapt to random,” Jeb said.

  “And we’re as random as it gets,” Enigo crowed. “Deary, give me one full power for one full spectrum shot and Dour, prepare a special delivery.”

  “My lady visits death upon our enemies,” the teleporter chief intoned.

  “Captain!” Doall shouted. “The shuttle!”

  The Cyber ship had captured the shuttle in a tractor beam and was pulling it toward them. The Kandor ship fired but with little effect.

  Enigo said, “Retargeting the tractor generator. Dour?”

  “The hands of fate hover over instruments.”

  “Manos,” Enigo breathed. “Firing!”

  The entire ship dimmed as all the energies momentarily channeled into the phasers. Yes, even life support, because everyone could survive for a few seconds without the heaters on and the scrubbers going. It’s a huge ship. The phaser banks didn’t whine so much as roar as the power escaped. The Cyber hive’s shield, vulnerable already at the point its beam passed through, flared with the impact. The tractor beam disengaged as the Cyber shields adapted, but the shot did not get through.

  The shuttle rushed away, only to be caught
again before it could get out of range.

  LaFuentes swore.

  Princess Katrin’s image again showed up on a side screen. “Captain. Captain, what do we do?”

  Jeb frowned. “Dour?”

  “It is done.”

  He sighed. “Courageous, get your ships out of here and back to your planet. Get ready to defend yourselves.”

  “No!” Katrin cried. “Not without my Petru.”

  The shuttle disappeared inside the Cyber hive, the bay doors closing behind it.

  Then that section of the Cyber hive exploded.

  Katrin screamed and fell to her knees.

  On the screen, a simulation of the ongoing battle still played. The princesses’ ship held back but the Kandor ship renewed its attack, now focusing on the injured section of the Cyber hive. The Impulsive, too, continued to press its advantage, because the crew knew its job and didn’t have to wait for the captain to tell them to keep doing it. That freed Captain Tiberius to handle the weakest participant in the fray: the princess.

  “Courageous, get out of here – maximum warp!” he said.

  Katrin stood. “No! We will engage the Cybers. We will break through their shields. We will board that ship and find the prince and rescue him!” Despite how hard she sobbed, she managed to spit out the words with fiery vengeance befitting a monarch-to-be who had just had her True Love snatched from her on the eve of her nuptials.

  “Courageous?” Jeb pressed.

  The captain ordered their retreat.

  “No!” Katrin ran to his chair and stabbed at the controls. “This is Princess Katrin, your future queen. You will disregard that cowardly order. You will attack the Cybers. You will save the prince!”

  A voice from the back said, “But Katrin, I am already saved.”

  She looked up and gasped. “But… how…?” She turned to the viewscreen (or rather, the teeny camera that let her face been seen by the crew of the Impulsive.)

  Jeb shrugged. “We don’t question the teleporter chief or his methods.”

  Over the intercom, Dour said, “That is wise.”

  “Thank you! Captain Courageous, get us home.”

  The viewscreen went dark, but not before showing the princess run to the prince’s embrace and their first kiss.

  From Ops, Doall sighed.

  Captain Tiberius shook his head, dismissing the alien teens from his mind. “Doall, status?”

  She wiped a tear quickly and checked her console. “Shields at 40 percent. Donner’s safely in the shuttle bay. Edor made it to the Kandor ship as well. We were lucky we’d distracted the Cybers enough to transport them and put in that bomb.”

  “Teamwork, not luck,” Smythe corrected.

  “Yes, sir. Shields at 38 percent. A couple of shots did get through. Teleporter crews are beaming in replacement hull pieces as needed.”

  The viewscreen flared.

  “Shields at 30 percent.”

  Smythe said, “Mr. Cruz, we are no longer protecting the princess. If you could not fly into the shots now?”

  “Deary, we need shields,” Jeb said.

  “Sair, you can’t get blood from a turnip!”

  “Tell that to the Russians. What about the Wikadas shields? Less power, more effect, you said.”

  “But we’ve not run tests… Ack! What am I saying? Ten minutes.”

  “You’ve got two.”

  “Then we’re dead.”

  “Again?”

  “An honor serving under you, Captain. Dasvidaniya. Oh, Danny boy…”

  Jeb sighed. “Cruz, Doall, LaFuentes, buy us time.”

  “Debris field?” Doall highlighted the scattered remains of the destroyed Kandor ship on the screen.

  “Hiding behind the dead bones of our fallen friends? Tipo tosto! Changing course. How about a distraction?”

  “On it!” LaFuentes said, and a scatter volley of torpedoes left the Impulsive to impact against the already-injured side of the hive. But when the flares of impact cleared, they saw pieces of the hive pulling away of the core, each under its own power. They arched away from the hive, then started toward the Impulsive.

  LaFuentes swore.

  “They’re swarming!” Doall said. “Transmitting jamming signal. On speaker, Captain?”

  “Why not?”

  A deep male voice came over the speakers, singing about searching for the perfect love.

  The captain furrowed his brows. “Interesting choice.”

  “It was ranked Number One on Earth’s twenty-first century’s most played list, early teens.”

  “Oh?”

  The voice went on about exclusive commitments.

  “Top annoyance of the social media age. It should corrupt their systems.”

  Indeed, the Cyber ships had ceased their focused attack and buzzed about, disconcerted. As the singer launched into a repeated chorus about staying true, supportive and honest, two of the ships deliberately flew into each other.

  Jeb nodded. “Nice. Catchy tune, too. Cruz, we there yet?”

  “Parking us now, Captain.” Cruz’s hands, so wild in conversation, moved with Spartan efficiency as he slid the Impulsive between the largest pieces of the shattered Kandor vessel. Even so, a proximity alarm sounded.

  “Basta, Pulsie! There’s room for my nona’s shuttle.”

  “All right,” the captain soothed. “Let’s turn off the lights.”

  Of course, the captain didn’t mean only the lights, but rather anything that might broadcast their location. The music stopped, although a few people hummed the chorus. All outward lights shut off and nanites darkened the glass of the windows. Teleporter repairs halted. The deflector shields went off line, and the motherly voice of the Impulsive’s main computer reminded everyone to stay away from damaged outer areas of the ship without radiation suits or anti-radiation vaccines. In Sickbay, Pasteur prepared to receive patients who didn’t listen to their mother.

  Tiberius returned to his seat and settled himself in comfortably. “Doall, keep an eye on those Cyber ships. Captain to Engineering. We bought you your time. Make the best of it. In the meantime, ladies and gentlemen, let’s see if we can have a rip-roaring surprise lined up for when that new shield is ready.”

  ***

  Captain Tiberius leaned forward in his chair, concentrating on the viewscreen, which now showed the Impulsive in the center of a field of debris. With only the ship’s passive detection systems operating in order to keep hidden from the Cyber ships, the locations were approximated by previous known locations and movement. Red blips showed the Cyber ships as they moved toward the wreckage, first a few, then more as other possible locations were dismissed.

  “They’re starting to poke around, Captain,” Doall said as her console picked up the Cybers’ active systems feeling out the field.

  Jeb nodded. “Status?”

  Smythe glanced at his console. “Wikadas shield online and formations programmed in.”

  “Weapons ready,” LaFuentes said.

  Doall added, “Jamming ready. I have a new selection: Classic Twentieth Century Metal. That should confuse them. They are entering the debris field.”

  “Cruz?”

  “Just say when.”

  Captain Tiberius leaned back and pressed the intercom. “All hands, this is the Captain. Time to make trouble. Mr. Smythe? Beer me.”

  “All hands. Silent Red.” Smythe ordered. In response, the lights dimmed to red and brightened three times to signal the alert and for dramatic effect.

  The power came on, all systems coming alive in a rush. The intercom blasted with a man’s maniacal laughter. In the bullpen, the relief crew cheered.

  The screen shifted to a completely accurate representation of the ships and debris locations just in time to register multiple explosions as Doall’s musical choice caused some of the Cyber ships to veer into pieces of the Kandor ship.

  As the guitar solo sounded, Smythe said, “Activating shield sequence one.”

  The deflector shields pow
ered up in a programmed expansion that started close to the ship then pushed outward. Debris, mechanical and biological was shoved away from the Impulsive at high velocity and rammed into the approaching swarm. As the swarm jinked and dodged to avoid collision, LaFuentes and his weapons team followed up by blasting Cybers and debris alike to increase the confusion.

  The singer began saying “Ai, Ai, Ai.”

  Smythe announced, “Wikadas blade formation two. Cruz, go.”

  The defector shield energies warped until they formed a blade with a horizontal edge that paralleled the width of the ship. The engines engaged and just as the singer began to sing of locomotion and insanity, the HMB Impulsive burst from its hiding place, plowing through debris and ships, phasers striking from every turret.

  “Kill them all or make them run,” Tiberius ordered.

  The Impulsive swooped in and out of the fray, scattering space junk, ships and ships that became space junk like a Fibaltian dragonhawk terrorizing a flock of hummingsparrows.

  “Brace!” Cruz called as he entered the thickest part of the swarm. Across the ship people grabbed consoles or the arms of their chairs.

  Just before they broke through the swarm, Cruz kicked the ship into reverse. (Heck, yeah, reverse! The Impulsive has reverse drive – impulse and warp. As Deary’s father, Montgomery Angus Deary used to say, “U-turns in space are for people who don’t understand engineering.”)

  The ship jerked with whiplash-inducing suddenness the inertial dampeners could not compensate for. The Impulsive cut back through the swarm.

  Just like the alien bird mentioned earlier to remind you this is space opera, the ship twisted and dove through the smaller but plentiful enemy ships. Unlike the birds, the Impulsive and the Cybers fired phasers and launched torpedoes. The Cybers tried to form into a swarm for a coordinated attack, but as Deary and LaFuentes predicted, their best efforts bounded off the shields at angles, sometimes continuing on their new trajectories to hit their own ships. Doall reported the power drain, but it was a fraction of the damage they’d been sustaining earlier. LaFuentes whooped.

  Jeb grinned, imagining the next time he was on Earth at the Captain’s conference. “Take that, Union Fleet.”

  The band on the intercom moved to another guitar solo. In the bullpen, the second-string team played air guitars.