by AJ Super
Her shot-timing was impeccable. Nyx covered her helmeted head and dove through the hole ahead of her. She slid through the burning copper edges of the hole while it eased itself closed behind her as the gold field corrected the glitch in the energy dispersion. Turning her head, she burst a puff of carbon dioxide and spun herself on her back so she could see her companions following through the barrier. Red followed Nyx closely, energy weapon pointed calmly at the gold field, and fired. A shower of sparks obscured her from view briefly as she flew through the fiery-edged hole in the silent black. Malcam slipped through his own hole burst in the Andraste’s energy shield, popping off bursts of CO2 to match Nyx’s speed.
However, Falak tumbled towards the shimmering field between him and his companions, arms flailing as he tried to aim.
Nyx inhaled sharply as she watched him plunge toward the point of no return.
If he hit the shield, he’d be nothing but dust. And Raphael would never forgive her. She’d never forgive herself. Falak Barsar was a good kid. If a little clumsy and naïve, he was an engineering genius. She needed him on the Thanatos.
She couldn’t turn around and help him. She couldn’t slow her momentum to the Battle Station Andraste, or she’d end up floating in the black. Her mind whirled. She struggled to catch her breath. There had to be a way to get him through.
“Steady yourself. Now, Barsar.” Malcam’s deep voice reverberated over the comm.
“Use your CO2. You don’t have much time,” Nyx interjected quickly.
Falak stilled and an icy puff of air whiffed from his EVA suit. He spun backwards. “I can’t. I can’t do this. I’m gonna die.”
“Putain. Again. Do it again, connard,” Malcam swore at the panicked Falak.
Falak’s suit puffed. He spun toward the gold energy shield, so close he could reach and touch it, still speeding toward it.
A meteor rose from Nyx’s stomach. He wasn’t going to make it. “Get ready to shoot, Falak.”
“Shoot your putain de weapon. Do it. Do it now,” Malcam growled over the comm.
Falak juggled his energy weapon and pulled the trigger. The blue splash and shower of sparks engulfed him in a halo of electric light.
Nyx swallowed. He had been so close to the shield. The backsplash of energy could have burned his suit up. She closed her eyes. “Que Les Étoiles soient avec lui. S’il vous plaît,” she begged under her breath. She opened her eyes and Falak drifted through the gold field in a fetal ball, energy weapon tethered to his wrist floating beside him. She exhaled hard. At least Raphael wouldn’t do something like crash the Thanatos to murder her since Falak was safe… for now.
She let off a puff of CO2 and rolled back to face the Andraste.
The listing ship looked dead. None of the vents let off any steam or waste air. No exterior lights blinkered. Nothing indicated that this ship was alive or that there were people on it. Whoever was commanding didn’t want this ship found.
Ice gripped Nyx’s spine. The plans she managed to get were incomplete, and while they looked similar to that of the Battle Stations Kokou and Kokou II, they weren’t quite the same. There were hidden spaces and unidentified areas which Nyx was unsure of the use. They could be anything from barracks to labs to prison cells.
She toggled her comm to mute and spoke to the heads-up in her helmet, “Display Andraste plans.”
The plans overlaid the physical Andraste before her, red bull’s eye on the small port she and her companions were aiming for as their momentum took them through the black to the Battle Station. The unknown sections were outlined in grey, but the identified ones, like engineering, were labeled in tiny white letters. She could make out the command deck and the mess hall and some overlays of hallways, but several large areas were greyed out. One of those places had to be where they were keeping Phoebe and Erebus.
She recognized the spot where she was kept prisoner on the Kokou II. It was greyed out as well. Likely, that was where the two Stars were: solitary confinement. Especially since solitary was for political prisoners and those the Protectorate wanted to disappear. They had wanted Nyx to disappear.
Nyx was almost to the small hatch marked on her heads-up map. Only a few more meters. She put her energy weapon in the holster at her side. The next job was Red’s. She was quite adept with explosives. Not that Falak or Nyx couldn’t rig something in a pinch. Red was just… more widely experienced.
Nyx grabbed at the hatch. Malcam touched her shoulder and glided in beside her, while Red grabbed the hatch handle in the center of the round door and clipped her grav boots down, standing upright on the ship’s side. She looked up at the slightly rotating Falak and reached out a hand. His wide eyes stared down at Red as he stretched and twisted, turning in cold space.
Their fingers grazed each other. Red strained against her grav boots and flicked her wrist, snagging Falak’s fingertips. She pulled, hand tightening around his as she reeled in the panicked man, grabbing his arm with her other hand as he got closer. Falak steadied and swung his boots to the Andraste’s hull. He turned them on, and they attached with a thud.
“Th-thanks,” Falak muttered over the comm.
“Don’t need you bouncing off the target and into the black,” Red grumbled.
Nyx smiled. Red and Malcam helping Falak was unexpected. Malcam really did walk the Thanatos walk now, and he had dragged Red with him, as well. They seemed to be integrating with the crew enough to be mildly-alienated family, since many still didn’t trust the duo. The odd pair might be becoming more loyal to Nyx and the Thanatos as much as they were loyal to each other after all. She glanced at the azure-eyed Malcam standing next to her. That was good. She needed allies throughout this, even if they were of a questionable background. Phoebe may be hard to handle after they rescued her. And Erebus’ primary avatar may be beyond repair, if they could find her. While she wouldn’t trust Malcam as far as Red could throw him, which likely was pretty far knowing her combat skills, she still needed strong people on her side. Malcam was strong.
“Got the fire gel?” Nyx breathed over the comm.
Red pulled a silver tube from a small pack strapped on her holster belt. She bent the tip of the tube and stooped to the lever-handle of the hatch. She traced around the handle with a clear goo emitting from the tube.
Falak knelt next to Red and eyed the sticky substance. “You made this? You’re sure it’ll work?”
Her cold blue eyes pierced him.
He put his hands up. “My bad. It’ll work.”
She tossed the tube out into the black.
“Wh-what? Why’d you do that?” Falak stuttered.
“It’s open and leaking. Don’t really want to keep something that can burn through my bones with only a little application of electricity. Why? Did you want to keep it?” Red pulled a small battery from the pouch by her energy weapon holster.
“Uh. No.” He shook his head.
Malcam turned to Nyx, his eyes bright. Nyx smothered a laugh. Falak may be a genius, but at heart he was still just a kid.
Red pressed the battery into the fire gel and quickly pulled her gloved hand away. The gel started bubbling and sank into the metal, melting it away and making a deep channel next to the handle on the vent door. The copper-haired woman grabbed the handle as air began to leak from the circular indentation forming in the hatch. Gently pulling, the handle lifted out of the door with two pieces of eight-centimeter thick steel sandwiching the manual door-lock mechanisms, all completely melted through. Red tossed the hunk of metal over her shoulder and into space, turning and raising an eyebrow at Falak. “You wanna keep that, too?”
“N-n-no. Why? We don’t need it. Do we?” Falak sputtered.
Red smirked and slapped him on the back. “No. Now, move.” She clomped to the side, yanking her grav boots from the door as she stepped.
Falak shuffled quickly off the hatch.
Red bent over and pulled at the hole in the door. The hatch swung out on hinges away from her, atmosphere already
seeped from the hole where the handle had been.
Nyx swung her legs around and peered into the vent tube. There was another door—locked to prevent depressurization should the outer hatch be compromised. She floated herself inside and spun her body facing the floor plate, sticking her grav boots down with a thunk. Malcam followed. Falak dropped in, grav boots sucking him towards the floor, and Red glided down after him, dragging the hatch shut after her.
She pulled a roll of paper-white synth skin from her pouch and slapped it to the hole in the door.
Nyx blinked. She knew that Red had a plan to close the hole, but she didn’t know that she’d use a good deal of the Thanatos’ store of synth skin. “You didn’t get the Doc’s permission to use that. Did you?” Nyx said unhappily over the comm.
Malcam shrugged. “He would have moaned that we were taking it all and made some excuse that he would need it. But we haven’t had a big accident since Erebus took over the Thanatos’ systems. Regardless of whether she’s talking or not.”
Red smoothed her hand over the skin-like substance as the environmentals in the vent-tube kicked back on. “It’s the only thing that sticks to metal without adhesive and creates an air-tight bond.” She glanced at Nyx. “It also stays pliable at three kelvins and won’t accidentally rupture.”
Nyx set her jaw. She’d have to make it right with the medic, but they were correct. Ask later, do first. Their priority was to get on board the Andraste, not please the ship’s doctor. Nyx glanced at the readings on the datapad strapped to her right forearm. The room was pressurized, and the air was breathable. She hesitated. If she took her helmet off, she’d lose the heads-up map of the Battle Station. Not that it was complete, or possibly even accurate. But she had to hope.
If she didn’t take off the suit completely, her strongest weapon—her blood and her ability to infect, control, and kill people instantly—would be useless. She hated relying on energy weapons and projectile guns like Malcam and Red. They were too easily drained, or ammunition used and wasted.
She pivoted to Red and Falak. “Time for you two to go off on your own. We need security and those shields down so we can get out of here.” She pulled off the helmet and took a deep breath of the metallic air. “Remember to signal Raphael which bay is the safest to land in.” She kicked off her grav boots and peeled the outer space suit off, her insulating black body suit trailing with a couple wires that connected her health data to the suit and relayed it back to the Thanatos. She floated slightly in the low gravity but hooked her foot on the edge of her boots, still attached to the floor next to her. Nyx was sure that Sarama was watching the numbers closely and had warned her that she would likely take the EVA suit off so her First Officer wouldn’t panic.
Nyx yanked her black Thanatos uniform from a small pack at the hip of the space suit she had just taken off and began peeling the insulating under-layer of the EVA suit from her shoulders.
Malcam ducked his head out of his helmet and cleared his throat, setting the helmet on the reticulated metal floor, and Falak quickly turned his back. Red yanked off her helmet and set it on the ground, then pulled her hair back again, smoothing it down.
Nyx glared at Malcam. “You don’t have to watch.”
“It’s not like there’s many places to look.” He raised a thick eyebrow.
“Just turn around,” she growled.
He shrugged and swiveled, his back to Nyx.
She stripped the black layer off, pulling the catheter out with a pinch. Standing in the middle of the vent-tube in a white tank and blue polka-dotted underwear, she shivered.
Malcam looked over his shoulder. “Take your time. Don’t worry that we’re in a hurry.”
Nyx picked up her helmet and threw it at him. He turned towards her and caught it neatly, setting it at his feet. Then, he crossed his arms. “You know I’ve seen ton cul before.” He smirked.
“Huh?” Falak jumped. “What?”
“Don’t listen to him. Besides, I was a little girl. And you were just a kid. And you were naked, too,” Nyx muttered, turning crimson. Then, she shook out the black jumpsuit, stepping into it. She zipped it over her tank, pulled her grav boots back on and wrapped the datapad back around her forearm. She pulled a knife from the pack and unstrapped the energy weapon on the EVA suit, then kicked the pile of space-suit and under-layer to a corner. They sailed and danced in a wad of white and black. There was no place to hide them in the vent tube, and she wasn’t going to haul them with her, so they would just have to hope they and the helmets that the group left behind weren’t found in the dark vent in the corner for a while.
She stomped over to Falak and knocked on his helmet. He stumbled back around to face her. She jerked her thumb up, and he fumbled with his helmet, yanked it off and ran a gloved hand through his spikes.
Nyx turned to Red. “Ready to go?”
The woman nodded and hit a button next to the pressurized hatch. It rolled aside, the dark corridor beyond barely lit with a pale blue glow.
Nyx blinked in the dim light. Time to split up the team. Time for her and Malcam to go find Phoebe and Erebus.
2
Nyx walked quietly down the blue-lit corridor. The sleek metal walls were nothing like the Kokou II’s clean white and black halls. These were industrial and spare, as if the ship had been built quickly and not finished for the comfort of the people on it. She glanced around. The blue light was even abnormal. Battle Stations had an economical military aesthetic, lit by simple white light. Black rooms turned white via motion sensitive programming to save power.
Nyx slapped the door pad next to a hatch in the hallway. The door whisked open, and the room didn’t turn white, it only powered up to a dim blue.
“Is everything on power conservation?” Nyx whispered in the faint light, poking her head into the empty storage room.
Malcam grumbled in assent and strode down the corridor ahead. “Are you coming?”
“Where’s all the power going? Why is this ship running so dark?” Her stomach tightened. “What exactly is the Protectorate doing here? It can’t just be holding political prisoners. They would need power for that.”
“Only need power in one section for prisoners.” He paused and looked over his shoulder. “And if you keep looking in every room we pass, you’re going to find trouble.”
Nyx fingered the knife at her side. It’s not that she wanted to find trouble, but she could handle it quietly and quickly if she did. Infecting a target with her blood and controlling their life-energy, was becoming easier. All she had to do was extinguish the flame connecting her to the target. She rubbed a shoulder as a chill overtook her. It was a comfort, and a bit of a rush, to know she had power over life and death. She could easily protect herself, her family, and those with her using little effort when there was danger. She was the Star of Nyx, and it was her power. It was her strength. And the strong rose. And if she rose, maybe, just maybe, she could protect Erebus and Phoebe. Maybe she could protect her crew. Maybe she could protect herself.
She followed Malcam down the blued hall to a lift. He hit the palm pad next to the lift door. It glowed red, locked. He set his jaw.
Nyx pulled out her knife. “It’s biometrically locked. Probably have to be crew or ranked to get access to the lift.” She didn’t have an electronic screwdriver on her, but the tip of a knife would work to get screws out and jimmy the faceplate of the door pad off its sensors. Sticking the knife tip under the plate, it popped off neatly, trailing several wires. Nyx used the knife to cut a yellow wire and a green wire and stripped a centimeter of covering from each half, then matched green with yellow, crossing the colors. The red wire, she cut and stripped clean, then touched it to the power actuator, causing a shower of sparks to cascade across her hand. She nodded. The red wire was the power conductor, which meant shorting the local bios… She touched it to the bios slot. A small stream of black smoke rose from the door pad and the faceplate turned green. The current running through the red wire erased the biomet
ric firmware in the door pad, and she had shunted any power surge by rewiring the power-backup. Easy as dodging an asteroid field around a ringed moon.
Placing her hand on the dangling door pad, the lift doors slid open.
They traipsed in, and she tapped in the thirtieth level, where solitary confinement should be on a Battle Station. Phoebe and Erebus were waiting for them, and they had to get off the Andraste soon.
The lift shuddered closed and whisked up.
Nyx breathed in hard. Hopefully Red and Falak weren’t running into any problems that couldn’t be solved this easily.
The lift screamed to a stop, jostling Malcam and Nyx. She put her hand to the wall behind her to steady herself. Malcam reached out and touched her shoulder. She stared at him. Burning bright blue in the dim light, his cerulean energy twined with her white wisps. She wasn’t even consciously bolstering his azure miasma. She closed her eyes and retracted the snaking white tendrils seeping from her. Something about Malcam made it easy to entwine into his energy, become one with him. She hadn’t even noticed it as they walked down the darkened corridors. But if she wasn’t careful, she could easily take the white flame, the connection between the two of them that made him immortal, and snuff it out. She could do it in surprise if someone came upon them. She could even do it accidentally if he made her angry. Or she could just decide to do it, to kill Malcam. She still didn’t completely trust him.
The lift doors slid open.
Two white-uniformed Queensmen stood gaping mid-conversation at Malcam and Nyx, their gold-lined capelets hanging over their shoulders and energy weapons slung low on their waists. Looks of surprise slowly crept across their faces.
Malcam drew his energy weapon behind Nyx. Nyx shuddered in fear. If he fired, the whole ship would know they were here. There was a better way. A quicker, quieter way. She sidled in front of him. She could take care of this without setting off a weapons’ fire alert.
