by Mark Lawson
As the companions walked towards the elevator the alien with the ugly, melted face that had been eavesdropping on Nate’s conversation with Turg stood up and shuffled towards the elevator too. A wicked smile spread across its face as it gestured to its ugly companions scattered around the room. Soon a small gang of similarly hideous little men were following Nate, Farden and Turg across the restaurant.
Chapter 7: An unexpected encounter
Nate, Farden and Turg emerged from the elevator shaft and stepped out onto what was evidently a loading bay. Several transports, some with garish paintwork, sat in the holding area. Engineers and mechanics busied themselves as they worked at the far corner of the bay, while large machines loaded cargo on and off some of the other vessels. “There she is,” announced Turg pointing towards his transport.
“Wow. Now that’s a space ship,” Nate exclaimed as he admired its beautiful lines. It was flame red, long and sleek, with a large, silver container protruding from the rear. The ship itself hovered above the bay. Nate looked about for the cables or a support, but there were none, it just hung there.
“Thank you,” replied Turg, flattered by Nate’s remarks. “We spend a lot of time in our transports, so we tend to take a lot of pride in them. Her name is Hope.” Nate felt that Turg was beginning to accept that they would be traveling together, even if he was not yet ready to embrace him as a friend.
“Hope?” inquired Nate.
“Yes,” replied Turg, “I HOPE I can give up this game one day and settle down on a planet with my wife, raise a family and give up these long distance hauls forever.” Turg almost laughed at his own sense of humour, momentarily forgetting his discomfort when speaking with others. “Would you like to come on board?”
Nate didn’t need a second invitation. As Turg approached the ship a doorway in the side, quite near to the front of the vessel, opened before them. Silver steps slid out of the newly formed doorway, one at a time, and descended out and down from the Hope to form a set of stairs. The individual steps seemed to hover in the air between the floor and the doorway. Nate approached the stairs cautiously, trying the lower step with his foot before he placed his whole weight upon it. It seemed safe enough. In any event, Turg was not bothered by the fact that the steps appeared to just hang in the air, so why, thought Nate, should he be?
“This is where I must leave you,” cried Farden from edge of the bay. “Good luck on your mission Nathaniel Armstrong. I hope to see you safely back on Big Sister very soon.”
Nate tuned to see Farden with his right hand raised in a farewell gesture.
Nate could only respond with a cursory, “Thank you, me too.” He scanned the holding bay one last time, taking in the many wonderful vessels that hovered above the floor. Crews and engineers scurried around fixing, testing and organising (as each of their tasks required them to do). All of the strange creatures seemed to be very busy. All but a small group of ugly, little “men” that stood at the far corner of the bay watching the Hope intently as Nate turned around to board the ship.
As he walked through the Hope’s corridors he could not help but be impressed. Lights flashed on important looking panels, instruments sprang to life as Turg pushed buttons and flicked switches, powering up the ship. Nate felt the floor beneath him begin to gently vibrate as he followed Turg to the bridge.
Turg hurried along the corridors with Nate in tow until he reached the area behind the large, darkened screens that Nate had seen from the hanger. Turg strode purposefully through the cockpit and threw himself into a large, black chair. The chair seemed to be several sizes too big for Turg’s frame. It looked as though he could pilot the ship, relax and even sleep in the seat if he wanted to. The instrument panel in front of Turg lit up in blues and greens as he expertly moved his hands over the digital images in front of him. Nate felt the tremendous engines stir and rumble to life. It felt to Nate as though the ship’s frame could barely contain the power of the engines as they strained against the stationary vessel.
The front of the holding bay opened and the ship accelerated though the opening and into the blue atmosphere that encircled the city of Orezan. The acceleration was like nothing Nate had ever felt before. Not only did it throw him off his feet, but it left him pressed against the back wall struggling for breath as his chest was forced against his spine. The whole of the bridge went black as the blood was forced out of Nate’s eyes and away from the front of his face into the back of his skull. He felt dizzy with the speed, but exhilarated too..
As the ship settled into its cruising speed Nate picked himself up from the floor only to see blue skies give way to the inky blackness of space.
“Not used to passengers,” snapped Turg. “I suppose I should have told you to buckle up before we launched.” Turg barely looked around at Nate as he spoke.
Nate looked about him for another seat in which he could sit, but found none. He wondered where he could have buckled up even if he had been warned of the tremendous acceleration.
“You’ll find a seat over there,” Turg explained as he gestured behind him and to his left.
Nate looked in the direction that Turg had indicated and noticed a small, folded seat near the back of the cabin. Nate put his hand to a nearby panel, and a seat slid into position from the wall above. Nate sat down, buckled up and strained to see out of the windshield at the stars and planets as they flashed by the ship.
“I suppose if I am to have a guest I should show you around,” Turg said almost begrudgingly. “Follow me and don’t touch anything.” While Turg was doing his best to remain cold and distant he was still quite chuffed from the compliment that Nate had paid his ship and, as a result, he was prepared to be as welcoming to his passenger as he knew how.
Nate followed Turg from the bridge of the ship and into the corridors that led towards the stern. As Nate and Turg walked further towards the back of the ship Nate noticed more and more pipes and infrastructure cluttering the passages and hanging from the ceiling above.
After walking along what Nate estimated to be approximately a third of the ship, he and Turg came to sealed door. Turg stretched out his hand and pulled down on a rather large lever. The door retracted into the roof and Nate and Turg stepped through the doorway onto a long, narrow footbridge. Turg turned and closed the door behind them.
They stood on the footbridge suspended over a large, deep room. Nate gripped the handrails that ran along each side of the footbridge, he didn’t cope too well with heights.
“We are nearing the engine room and the cargo locks,” explained Turg. “Don’t fall off the footbridge, I don’t want to have to fish you out of the magnetic drive.”
Nate looked down into a large steely coil below.
“Last time someone fell into one of those it took nearly two days for a team of Confederation soldiers to pick the poor fellow out. When they finally freed him, he wasn’t too well for some time after.”
Nate tightened his grip on the rails.
Turg and Nate continued across the 10 metre long footbridge. As they reached the other side Turg threw another lever and a second door opened in front of them. Nate passed through the doorway. Turg closed the door after them and continued on through the ship with Nate trailing behind.
As they neared the rear of the vessel they entered another large room containing row upon row of holographic displays.
“Engine room,” Turg explained.
Turg approached a small window to the side of the rows of computerised panels. “That’s the airlock leading to the cargo hold. No need to open it though. If you want to have a look, then go ahead.”
Nate approached the window and pressed his nose against the glass. He saw a small room with a solid door opposite the window. The room was bare, only a single panel on the far side of the chamber broke the monotony of the white, gleaming walls.
“That leads out to the cargo hold. Not much air out there though. Wouldn’t go out without a suit,” Turg explained as he gestured towards the suits that
hung on a nearby wall.
Suddenly, Nate staggered as though the ground beneath his feet had shifted. “Did you feel that?” he asked.
Feel what?” growled Turg, still less than comfortable with having passengers on board.
Nate stared at Turg, beginning to feel uncomfortable. “Nothing, I suppose,” replied Nate. “It must have been my imagination,” he thought.
“Well, that’s the tour,” Turg grunted, and with that he turned to make his way back to the bridge.
As Nate and Turg walked back towards the front of the ship the floor shook violently. It was the same feeling that Nate had experienced just moments earlier. Only this time it was clear that Turg felt it too. Turg quickly regained his balance, running towards the bridge, his face fixed in grimace. Nate ran towards the bridge also, not knowing what had caused the Hope to shudder or what had created such panic in Turg. The ship shook again as Turg slammed his hand to the wall and opened the door leading to the bridge.
Turg threw himself into his chair and began studying the instruments in front of him.
“That’s why we don’t take passengers,” he muttered to himself, “no time to show people around. What was I thinking? We’ve already taken two hits.”
Turg moved his hand rapidly over the control panel. His chair swung around and a holograph image filled the room in front of him. Nate could clearly see an image of a giant gun with two grips at the end of the gun nearest Turg and a holographic image of a dark ship hovering at the far end of the bridge. Turg slipped on a pair of nearby gloves and moved his hands into position, gripping the handles of the large gun. The gloves pulsed with life, and lights ran over their surface as Turg’s right index finger hovered over the trigger.
“Computer generated image, don’t be alarmed,” shouted Turg. “All shields up.”
Turg began to fire upon the image at the far end of the bridge. Atop the ship, energy charges shot out of a rear-facing laser cannon at the dark, sinister looking ship which was gaining upon the Hope. The mystery ship returned fire.
Turg swiveled in his chair as the gun on the top of the ship swiveled and fired at the mystery craft. Turg’s chair moved about the bridge as the cannon searched above for a clear shot at the approaching vessel. The battle continued as both ships traded fire.
Turg began muttering to himself again, “Damage to the rear shields. She can’t take too much of this.”
The Hope rocked violently to the right.
As both ships continued to blast each other Nate could hear and feel the explosions rocking the ship. Fire broke out in one of the Hope’s rear compartments as Turg struggled desperately to hold off their attackers.
“It’s no use,” Turg declared. “The shields are too badly damaged. Sending surrender beacon.”
With that last declaration Turg dropped his hands from the holograph image of the gun’s controls and slammed a bright orange panel to his left.
“What’s going on?” questioned Nate. “Who is in the black ship?”
“Pirates,” announced Turg. “Prepare to be boarded.”
Chapter 8: Pirates
Nate felt a sudden jolt as the pirates’ ship pulled alongside, latching onto the Hope. Great metal arms wrapped around its hull, gripping it tightly like a squid grasping its prey. The pirates’ ship ground against the Hope as the pirates searched for an entry hatch.
The minutes ticked by as Nate stood at the back of the bridge waiting for the pirates to appear through the door. Turg had left his giant seat and had joined him near the exit. Nate felt a cold shiver run up his spine. He had to do something.
Nate looked at Turg then rushed towards the air vent on the back wall of the bridge. He pulled out his laser knife and quickly cut through the bolts that held the vent in place over one of the many ventilation shafts that snaked their way around the ship. As he crawled into the shaft the brown cloak that Nate was still wearing from his visit to Casseon caught on the metal edge of the entrance. Nate spun around and tried gently to free the snag.
Just then Nate heard the door to the bridge open and an angry voice break the silence. “Carrying water we hear. That should get us quite a pay day.” Nate hurriedly pulled the grate back into place, a portion of his cloak still protruding from the shaft, and stared out through the slats and onto the bridge. He could clearly see a number of smallish creatures surrounding Turg, their weapons pointing at his chest. Nate looked at the creatures. He immediately recognised their short, stocky bodies and the grotesque noses, mouths and eyes that dripped down their faces like a masses of molten flesh. He knew where he’d seen of them before. But where? “Of course,” Nate realised, “that;’s the same face I saw at the restaurant in Orezan.”
“I must have led them straight to us,” Nate scolded himself as he realised the enormous price that he and Turg were now paying for his indiscretion in the restaurant.
“Take us to the water containers,” demanded one of the pirates, thrusting the end of his weapon hard into Turg’s chest.
Turg turned and walked towards the cargo hold. The pirates followed close behind, weapons at the ready.
Nate hurried to unsnag his coat and began crawling through the square ventilation shaft away from the bridge, all the while looking for an exit. He had no doubt that he had escaped detection because of the entrenched habit of transporters to travel alone. When the pirates had boarded they had, of course, only expected to find one person piloting the ship, not a pilot and a passenger. Nate was now determined to make the pirates’ oversight work to his advantage.
Nate crawled through the narrow tube until he noticed an opening. He crawled to the vent and looked down into the corridor below. Large pipes and ducts ran along the top of the corridor only 40 centimetres below the grate as Nate peered down from the ceiling above. He took out his laser knife and quickly cut away the vent, retracting the red beam as the vent swung down and clattered against the pipes below. He held his breath as a door opened and Turg and his captors entered the corridor. Nate could clearly see four pirates as they pushed Turg along at gunpoint.
Nate swung silently down from the vent and onto the pipes that hung from the ceiling some two metres above Turg’s head. Turg seemed to acknowledge Nate’s presence with a subtle raise of his eyebrows, but the pirates, being somewhat shorter than Turg and focused on their prisoner and the bounty that they expected at any moment to seize, failed to spy Nate lying in wait on top of a large pipe.
As the last of the pirates passed Nate, he slipped off his belt from around his waist and hooked it around the pirate’s neck. In one continuous action he hoisted the surprised pirate into the air and slapped his hand over the pirate’s ugly mouth. Nate quickly tore a portion of his robe from the hem and stuffed it into the pirate’s mouth. He expertly bound the pirate to the pipe and fell silently to the floor below throwing off what remained of his brown robe in the process.
Nate saw Turg and the pirates disappear into the room that led to the footbridge. The three remaining pirates seemed oblivious to their companion’s fate and marched on, consumed with thoughts of the riches they would possess after they sold the water on the black market.
Nate crept silently behind the band of pirates, hiding behind any piece of equipment that was big enough to conceal his presence. Turg opened the door and stepped onto the footbridge. This time, Turg did not stop to close the door behind him. Nate thought that Turg was deliberately keeping up a fairly brisk pace in order to prevent the pirates from stopping or looking behind them. Nate was correct. Turg had seen Nate drop from the overhead vent and was doing all he could to keep the pirates focussed on what was ahead of them in the hope that Nate would be able to pick them off one by one on their way to the cargo hold.
Nate slipped onto the footbridge some four metres behind the last of the pirates. He grabbed the rail and swung his body silently over the side. Hand over hand Nate made his way along the underside of the footbridge, his legs dangling over the drop below. Nate had never made such rapid progress along
the monkey bars at the park, but then again, when he went to the park with his family or friends, he did not wear an alien suit that allowed him to outperform an Olympic gymnast.
Nate reached above the platform and grabbed the ankle of the last pirate in line. He pulled him down and under the railing. Before the hideous creature even had time to register what was happening to him, Nate had dropped him right into the middle of the magnetic drive that stood on the floor below.
Nate looked down. His victim floated in the middle of the giant coil some distance above the floor. Every metallic element in the creature’s body was being pulled outward towards the coil. The pirate lay helpless in the middle of the rings, paralysed and unable to utter even a groan of pain by reason of the magnetic forces that looped around its body.
Nate swung himself back onto the footbridge. Turg and the two remaining pirates were now some distance ahead of him.
Nate crossed the bridge and slipped behind a bank of instruments in the room adjoining the cargo airlock.
Nate peered out around the instruments. As he did so he saw Turg and the pirates had reached the airlock. One of the pirates turned in an attempt to address one of his fellows and, on discovering that there was no-one behind him, alerted his one remaining companion to the situation.
One of the pirates raised his weapon and struck Turg in the forehead with the butt of the gun. “Make a fool of us will you,” he shouted as he repeated the blow. Turg crumpled to the ground and lay there, motionless.
Nate sensed his opportunity. While both pirates were focused on Turg, Nate rushed at the creatures. He tackled the nearest one to the ground and grappled with him on the floor. Anticipating its every move, Nate was easily able to avoid the pirate’s limbs as they thrashed about on the floor. Nate rolled his body into position on top of the pirate’s torso and punched him on the side of the head.
