The First Nova I See Tonight

by Jason Kilgore

  The room went pitch black except for Yiorgos's blue-glowing saber blade, which swiped downward at the droid as Yiorgos jumped from the tube onto its back, stabbing down into the body of it. Sparks flew as the plasma cut into the titanium alloy, silhouetting the whipping of the droid's remaining arms.

  Dirken didn't know where to aim, and he didn't want to hit Yiorgos. But then he heard a slap and the sound of something heavy hitting a wall and a grunt that could only be his partner, away from the metallic sounds of the droid. So he aimed and fired a double tap at the sound of the bot. The two plasma bolts hit their target on a leg and in the head.

  The droid stumbled, then half-dragged itself toward Dirken.

  Dirken backed into a wall, then fired twice more. The first missed widely. The second found its mark.

  There was an initial burst from the bolt, then the droid stopped moving as some inner power unit detonated in a bright green flash, catching fire and burning with green and blue flame. Two of its eyes were still glowing faintly, but it didn't move. The room quickly filled with an acrid smoke, activating the fire suppression system, but only a sprinkling of the foamy suppressant flew out of the sprinklers, having no doubt been used up elsewhere. Blobs of the white foam splattered over Dirken and everything else in the room. It didn't do anything to put out the fire.

  Still aiming his blaster toward the bot, Dirken quickly stepped across the debris to Yiorgos. The cyborg was sitting up, his back against a wall, his human hand rubbing the top of his head

  "You okay?" Dirken asked.

  "Yeah. But I think it dented my skullcap."

  Dirken helped him to his feet. "Let's get back into the tubes." He found his pack, which had been dropped at some point, and slipped it back over his shoulder.

  "Wait a moment," Yiorgos said. He deactivated his saber, turning it back into a hand, and stepped over to the droid.

  "Careful."

  Yiorgos knelt next to the eyes of the droid, examining it in the flickering green light of the flames, then opened a small hatch under the "chin" of the bot.

  "What are you doing?" Dirken asked. He walked over and picked up the safebox. Hopefully, whatever was inside was still intact.

  "Getting the control frequency." The cyborg extended an access cord from his arm and tried to plug it into a port in the hatch. "Ugh. Old tech. Old UW military tech, no less." He fiddled with the access cord for a moment, attaching something to the end, then tried again, this time successfully plugging in. Yiorgos tilted his head and gave a couple quick blinks, then said, "I'm in."

  "Your hacking ability never ceases to amaze me."

  "I'm no AVA."

  "Ava?"

  "A.V.A. An ancient hacking A.I. that nearly started an interplanetary war after hacking into every major computer system on Earth a thousand years ago." He waved his hand as if shooing a fly. "Never mind. Long story."

  An explosion rang through the ship, and Dirken felt the floor shudder. "How long is this going to take?"

  "Patience." Telltale tics of Yiorgos's head indicated a download in action. Dirken heard shouting and more shots fired from somewhere just outside the room.

  "Okay, got it," Yiorgos said, and extracted the cord as Dirken holstered his blaster and positioned himself under the tube opening on the other side of the room.

  "How's that supposed to help us?" Dirken asked, cupping his hands to give Yiorgos a boost up.

  The cyborg sighed as if it was supposed to be obvious. "You said there's a boarding party coming, right?"

  "Right." Dirken boosted Yiorgos up to the tube, and his partner then pulled himself up and offered his cyborg hand down toward Dirken. Dirken passed the safebox up to him, grunting as he lifted it over his head.

  "Well, they don't want the hunter droids attacking their own crew, right? Or other droids." Yiorgos continued. "They must have transponders on them that match the control frequency of the droid and keep them from attacking. We can mimic that frequency."

  Dirken grabbed Yiorgos's hand and was pulled roughly up to the tube. He slapped Yiorgos on the back. "You're a genius. Can you activate it to protect us?"

  They turned and continued on all fours with the safebox through the tube toward the back of the ship. "Well," Yiorgos said. "I can protect myself. You don't have a transponder built into your chest, I assume. But if you stick close to me, it's probably just as good." He glanced at Dirken as a wry smile on his lips. "Probably."

  They continued in silence for many long minutes, passing through two different tube junctions. One had been sealed off to a branch, likely due to another depressurized cabin, but Dirken didn't figure that was the way they needed. At the second junction they heard the pulsing reverberation of heavy rifle fire below them, ending suddenly with a scream that sent a shiver up his spine. The access tubes filled with a white smoke and the smell of burning plastic, so both of them reached to their belts, unclipped the oxygen masks they'd grabbed at the entrance, and slipped them over their faces. The hiss of oxygen was a welcome relief. Dirken hadn't bothered to check that the mini-cannister was actually full.

  From the direction they were heading, they heard a heavy grinding and motor sound echoing in some large chamber. Air rushed past them through the tube in that direction, ruffling Dirken's hair and whistling around the bend until they heard the grinding motor sound again. He guessed they were hearing the hangar doors opening and closing, and the rush of air was from the return of atmosphere to the hangar bay.

  "I think the boarding party has entered the hangar," Dirken said. "We must be very close now."

  And indeed, within a couple minutes they came to an end to the tube where a vent grating and open iris met a ladder down to an access panel.

  Dirken peeked through the grating. Below, two shuttles painted with crimson streaks sat side-by-side in a large hangar with a hunter droid stationed next to them, its eyes scanning across the chamber. As he watched, the shuttlecraft hatches slid open and a party of rough-looking pirates of different species exited, their bodies covered with a mishmash of black leather, bits of armor, and swatches of blood-red clothes, bandannas, and face paint.

  "The Bloodhawk's crew," Dirken whispered. He looked at Yiorgos. "Come on. I've got a plan." He climbed down the ladder, followed by his partner. They worked together to manhandle the safebox down the ladder, careful not to bang it against the walls.

  "What's the plan, Dirk?" Yiorgos activated his plasma saber again once they got to the bottom.

  Dirken unholstered his blaster and checked the charge. Enough for about a dozen shots.

  "That droid's, um, what did you call it? Control frequency? Can you jam it?"

  Yiorgos blinked in surprise. "If I jam it, I won't be able to protect us!"

  Dirken opened the access hatch a crack and looked out at the boarding party. There were maybe twenty pirates making their way toward the hangar entrance. "Yeah, but it won't protect them, either!"

  "Ah!" He tilted his head, blinked as he accessed some internal computer, then said, "Okay, here goes."

  The hunter droid next to the shuttles suddenly stood, turned its head, and fired its laser toward the boarding party. The pirates yelled in confusion and screamed in pain. A hail of plasma fire. The droid skittered and whirled toward them.

  "Yes!" Dirken shouted. "Come on!"

  They bolted through the access panel and ran toward the closest shuttlecraft. At least one of the pirates, a Pleiadean with a mass of twisted horns surrounding his angular head, shouted and pointed at Dirken and Yiorgos, but none of the other pirates reacted. They were too busy defending themselves against the droid. As Dirken entered the shuttlecraft he saw the droid rip into the pirates, the floor plating beneath them quickly turning shades of red and blue and purple from their flowing blood as they scattered and fired wildly.

  Yiorgos closed the access hatch as Dirken set the safebox down and started the thruster engines. Still warm, they roared into action and the ship hovered.

  The cyborg took a seat in the navigator
's chair as Dirken fired the prow laser at the other shuttlecraft, slicing through the shuttlecraft's windshield and control panels at nearly point-blank range and rendering the ship useless. He then turned further, facing the hangar doors.

  The shuttlecraft rocked as plasma bolts hit it from behind.

  "Seems the droid didn't get them all," Yiorgos said.

  "No worries." Dirken found the hangar door code already entered in the navchart from when the shuttlecraft entered. "How the hell did they get the hangar code for a United Worlds destroyer?" They exchanged surprised looks, but this was no time to ponder it.

  Dirken pressed the code again. The doors opened, sucking out the air from the hangar. Bodies of living and dead pirates, and the debris of the broken droid, flew past the shuttlecraft's windows and out into space.

  Then Dirken punched the engine and accelerated out of the hangar.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SPEARTIP

  No sooner had they shot out of the hangar than they were in trouble again.

  "Dirk! Two more shuttles headed this way from one of the brigantines," Yiorgos said, looking at the nav chart, "along with two light attack fightercraft!"

  "Crap. We're no match for fighters."

  Yiorgos turned and looked at him. "We have to go back to the hangar. We can hide out in the access tunnels. Hope the UW sends reinforcements."

  "What? Back there? There may still be two hunter droids stalking around in there, and more pirates are on the way!"

  "It's better than getting exploded by fighters."

  Dirken waved him off. "As far as they know, we're one of them!"

  The comm system crackled. A gruff voice on the other end with a thick Proximan lisp asked, "Thuttle 2, why hath you letht the hangar?" Dirken heard the alien's oral membranes fluttering against its thick tongue.

  Dirken and Yiorgos looked at each other and shrugged.

  "Well?" Yiorgos urged. "Tell them something!"

  Dirken frowned and pressed a com button. "Uh, Shuttle 2 here. All is well. Repeat, all is well. Awaiting orders."

  Another voice came over the com, deeper and more authoritative. "Explain, Shuttle 2. We've lost contact with the boarding party. What is happening in there?"

  Dirken mouthed wordlessly for a moment, trying to think of something, then replied, "I suspect it's just some frequency jamming inside the ship."

  The two fightercraft zoomed ahead of the shuttles they were escorting and headed toward Dirken's.

  "We don't register any jamming," the second voice said. "We're headed to you."

  Then the first voice added, "Thet trajectory to rendezvous with the Dragonfire."

  Dirken looked at the three pirate ships. One of the brigantines was on fire and rolling slowly, but still trading heavy arms fire with the Excellentia, as was the other brig. Both brigantines were wide berth starships with asymmetric hulls that bulged with cannon turrets and enhanced gravjump ribs. The corvette, on the other hand, was sleek and slim, streamlined and ready to outrun authorities. Its gravjump panels swooping around it with as much art as utility and seemed double-purposed for atmospheric flight.

  The corvette had sped up and closed ranks with the Excellentia and was now bombarding the bridge. All three ships were typical of pirate craft: painted black with a scan-absorbent coating to camouflage with the color and background radiation of space and covered with tech modifications to make them faster and more deadly.

  The Excellentia was rolling as well, its engines out. The entire starboard side was pockmarked with blasts. The normally silver hull was black from scoring and looked as if it had been cooked by a star.

  "Which one do you think is the Dragonfire?" Dirken asked.

  "I don't know. Just pick one."

  Dirken shrugged and turned the shuttlecraft toward the brigantine that looked least damaged. There weren't grav plates on the shuttle, so the safebox floated off the floor and toward the ceiling.

  Yiorgos set the coordinates for that ship. "So what now, genius? You just going to deliver us and the safebox directly to the pirates, or what?"

  Dirken waved him off. "Hold on. I'm thinking." He looked back to the corvette, then remembered something he heard on the bridge of the Excellentia. He abruptly turned the shuttlecraft and accelerated toward the corvette. The safebox hit the ceiling and bounced toward the back.

  Yiorgos looked at him like he was mad, his one human eye opening wide. "You're going directly at the ship that is bombarding the UW destroyer. That ship?"

  "Yes. That ship! I recall that a shuttlecraft launched from it."

  "Okay. So what are you going to do to them? Spit at 'em? Cuz that's about as much good as this little prow laser will do to that hull plating."

  The comm crackled with the Proximan voice. "Thuttle 2, why hath you deviated from your courth?"

  Dirken ignored the hail and answered Yiorgos instead. "I plan to board it and take it over."

  Yiorgos rolled his eyes. "Oh, great plan. I'm sure we'll do hunky-dory against a horde of pirates."

  "Not a horde. Thirty, maybe. Maybe less. You got a better plan?"

  "You heard my plan. Go back to the hangar. I'll take my chances in those access tubes, thank you."

  "Sure, until that 'horde' of pirates boards the Excellentia and comes looking to cut our throats. At least with the corvette we'll have a fast and deadly ship."

  Yiorgos huffed. "You just want to get a ship at any cost."

  A laser flashed in a bright line across the front of the shuttlecraft in a warning shot, causing both men to jump.

  Then one of the fightercraft came up and flew sideways going the same direction, heavy prow gun aimed directly at Dirken through the side of the cockpit window. It was an expensive swept-wing design optimized for both space and atmospheric flight — very sleek compared to the boxy shuttlecraft, and painted bright yellow. It wasn't a military craft, but close to it. The sort that a mercenary force might use.

  Dirken looked at the cockpit and saw a pilot with a large, red beret set fashionably askew on the unmistakable head of an Aquarian centaur. Even from that distance, he could make out the four eyes, broad nose, and cheek ridges that merged with the forward-sweeping earlobes. Dirken watched it speak — the same deep voice that they'd heard before. He wasn't certain if the pilot could see him as well.

  "Shuttle Two. Explain yourself." His voice was smooth and hardly had an Aquarian accent. "Why have you turned to the Speartip?"

  Dirken smiled at the centaur and pressed the comm button. "Just took a little damage back there. More than we thought. Need an emergency docking."

  "Funny," came the reply, smooth and sarcastic. "I don't see any damage."

  The second fighter now came into view, flying just behind the first.

  "The jig is up," Yiorgos muttered. "They're going to blast us."

  Dirken glanced to the corvette. They were now only about twenty meters from the starboard dock. He slowed slightly and turned the shuttlecraft to come alongside. Just a few more minutes, he thought. Just gotta buy a little more time.

  Dirken pressed the comm button again. "Well, the damage was inside, actually." Dirken winced, realizing how lame it sounded. "We're leaking acid from the primary battery." He made himself cough several times. Yiorgos added his as well. "Gotta get out of here!"

  The corvette, for its part, had stopped firing on the Excellentia, perhaps since the destroyer's bridge was now nothing more than a smoking, hollowed out collection of scrap.

  "Go ahead," the centaur said. "Permission to board the Speartip." He smiled again. "I'll stay right behind you to make sure you… board smoothly."

  The fighters pulled back and took up positions behind the shuttlecraft.

  Dirken and Yiorgos exchanged looks.

  "Now what?" Yiorgos said.

  Dirken pulled the shuttlecraft alongside the docking hatch and brought it into position. "Don't worry," Dirken said. "They won't expect us." But he pulled his blaster and checked the charge. Yiorgos pulled a mini-blaster from
a holster at the small of his back this time instead of transforming to make his plasma saber.

  Dirken plucked the safebox from the air as it floated past him, then he stood in front of the hatch as the boarding cowl extended over the side of the shuttlecraft. They heard it wrap around the opening, making tight contact, and then the hiss of atmosphere beyond the door as a boarding ramp attached to the hatch.

  "Get ready," Dirken said, aiming his blaster as the hatch unbolted.

  "Yeah," Yiorgos answered. "Ready to be filled with holes. I've only got so many organic parts left."

  The hatch slid open…

  …and two rows of pirates stood in the entry with their pulse rifles aimed at them.

  Dirken fired and hit a lanky Tau Cetian in his pale, bald head, then both men pulled themselves to either side of the hatch for cover. Plasma bolts shot through the doorway.

  Yiorgos groaned. "They won't expect us, you said!"

  The shots stopped. The pirates were arguing amongst each other, their words just low enough that Dirken couldn't make them out. Then one with a distinctly British accent shouted, "We saw the safe! Throw it out the hatch and we'll let ya go."

  "You lie!" Dirken shouted. "Your fighters will blow us away."

  "True, but we would let ya go!" A little wave of laughter rippled through the pirates. "Don't make us come in there or we'll make ya suffer!"

  "You can't hurt us!" Dirken yelled. "We know the secret of the package!"

  Yiorgos gave him an incredulous look. What secret? he mouthed.

  Dirken waved his hand as if to say Let's go with it. Then, yelling out at the pirates, "It's useless unless you know how to use it!"

  "Bullshite!" said the pirate.

  "I don't think the Bloodhawk would like you killing the only people who know how to use it, now would he?"

  More muttering amongst the pirates. Then, "Okay, but throw out your weapons."

  "Like hell!" Yiorgos muttered.

  "Go ahead," Dirken reassured. "We'll give ourselves up and escape later. Trust me."