by Donald Swan
“Raptor?” Sirok’s body almost appeared to elongate with sudden enthusiasm, and his voice held a tone of delight. “No. Never. Could I?” All four of his eyes opened wide as he waited for Arya’s answer.
“We need someone to fly it back to the ship.”
“Well, okay, if you insist.” The words barely left his mouth before he turned and sped toward the Dragoran ship sitting nearby.
“I knew he’d like that.” Arya smiled. “Any new toy makes him happy. He loves technology,” she said as she watched him zoom off.
Nick let out a single, short laugh. “Yeah, I know. I have to keep going to his quarters to get back the things he’s ‘borrowed’ from me. Just once I wish they weren’t covered in slime.” Nick leaned toward Arya, speaking softly for her ears only. “Just curious. Does he ever get out of that contraption of his?”
“Well, actually he—”
Arya’s com-badge squawked with a frustrating interruption from none other than Sirok. “Uh, guys…you better come take at look at this.”
“Speak of the devil,” Nick murmured.
The team dropped what they were doing and converged on the Raptor class ship, weapons drawn. As they rounded the vessel, clearly visible through the back hatch, an Arisian sat chained to a metal bench. The young male had obviously been captured and beaten. Blood oozed from his nose and mouth, and he had noticeable scrapes and cuts over his body. His green skin seemed pale for his race, and he was definitely dehydrated and weak.
“What is your name?” Arya asked as the team worked to free him.
He mustered an answer from his dry throat. “I am Arnon. The Dragorans came, slaughtered my village, and took me prisoner. They were looking for information about some alien craft and a Resistance ship that was harboring it. We knew nothing, but they persisted. They killed the women and children one by one. We told them we didn’t know. We pleaded with them, but they kept on killing and killing….” He coughed, too weak and dehydrated to continue.
“It’s okay, you’re safe. Rest now.” Arya turned away, her eyes wet with tears. She walked out of the ship with Nick following a few steps behind.
“You alright?” Nick asked softly. He was well aware the Dragorans had been looking for him and his module when they tortured and murdered the Arisians, and the knowledge didn’t sit well with him. He felt responsible for Arnon’s pain and loss. And he now worried that Arya would blame him, that they would all blame him for this horrible mistake, this accident he could never hope to control. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
If it wasn’t for the Mok’tu’s potential ability to recreate his hyperspace technology, Nick would just fly the module into a sun and end all of this. It would be so easy. But he had no choice. The Mok’tu already knew too much. He had to do everything he could to stop those bastards. He had promised Argos he would help, and he was a man of his word. But he hadn’t expected the Dragorans to slaughter innocent people to find him. He had been so naïve. He should have seen it coming. As much as he wanted to end it right now, there was too much at stake. He had to press on.
Arya turned away. “Please, I just need to be alone right now.” She walked away, her head down and shoulders slumped.
Nick paused and stared after her. He didn’t have the right words to console her. There was probably nothing he could say that would make her feel better anyway. Like it or not, this mess was his fault.
Feeling out of place in this insane world he had stumbled into, Nick turned and wandered back to the transport. The thought of all those innocent people being murdered because of him stuck like a thorn in his mind.
Back at the ship, Karg was unusually quiet while he prepped the transport for liftoff. Nick sat on a log, keeping to himself. It would be nice to get off this dreary hunk of rock and back to the Ashok while he was still alive.
Nick was still lost in self-criticism when Arya stepped around the corner of the transport. He tried not to notice that her eyes were still wet from sobbing, but his attempt failed. Her eyes were so full of pain.
“Karg, you and Nick take the transport back. I’ll fly Sirok’s Saber,” Arya said.
Since the Saber was a one-man fighter, Nick didn’t feel shunned by the arrangement. He hopped up from the log to board the transport behind Karg. It was a relief to finally get underway.
“It’s not your fault,” Arya announced.
Nick turned to look back at her. It was a kind gesture, but he knew the truth. If he hadn’t shown up in their neck of the woods, those people—her people would still be alive. “Thanks, I appreciate the sentiment, but we both know the truth. Those people are dead because of me.” He paused for a moment and stared intently into her pain-filled eyes. “You may see me as a bumbling idiot alien. But…I promise you that I will not let their deaths be in vain.” With that, Nick dropped his head and stepped into the transport.
Arya smiled through her tears as she watched him board. How could she tell him that she didn’t see him as a bumbling alien? He had to be the one in the prophecy. Brave and humble. He had to be, she could feel it. She walked around the transport and headed for the Saber perched nearby, happy that Sirok had agreed to take the Raptor back to the ship for her. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with the stink of the Dragorans. The disgusting creatures didn’t seem to believe in bathing. She’d love to get a look at the Raptor’s systems, but her sensitive nose would just have to wait until the maintenance bots gave it a good cleaning.
Her mind drifted back to the prophecy. She prayed she was right about Nick. The situation had grown even more dire for her people. As much as the Resistance tried to fight the enemy invaders, they were losing ground daily. The fact was, without some divine help, this sector of space was doomed to suffer at the hands of the monstrous beings, possibly forever. Nick had to be the one.
“Has to be,” she murmured as she took her seat in the Saber.
Nick watched out of the transport window as they lifted off the ground. He was happy to be leaving the freakish planet. Still, even more than ever now, he felt as if his fate were hanging in the balance. Captain Argos would not be happy to hear of the Dragoran’s latest slaughtering, and would surely be even less delighted to know Nick was the cause.
The roar of a transport pod leaving the hangar bay echoed through the corridors of the ship. Nick raised his head out of his notebook to listen, his brow lowered. Who the heck is leaving in a transport? We’re not even close to any systems. Perhaps there’s another ship nearby? He closed his notebook, dropped it on the table and headed to find Karg.
As Nick stepped through the doorway of the hangar bay, he found Karg staring at the stars through the open bay door. One of the transport pods was missing. “Karg, who just left?”
Karg answered without breaking his stare. “Arya. She went to negotiate for supplies on that commerce planet we passed yesterday.”
Nick stood next to Karg and stared out of the bay through the haze of the force-field. “Who went with her? I mean, I thought the three of us were sort of a team.”
Karg turned his head toward Nick as much as his short muscular neck would allow and looked at him with a forlorn expression in his big, red monster eyes.
“No one,” the big guy said. “She went alone.”
Nick’s voice raised an octave. “Alone? Why the hell did you let her go alone?” He was surprised that she would have gone by herself, and equally surprised that anyone would let her.
“Captain’s orders,” Karg replied dutifully.
Nick’s face scrunched in confusion as he gazed up at Karg. “Didn’t Argos say it was too dangerous for us to risk going there?”
“Yup. That’s why we aren’t. The three of us would be too conspicuous. But—”
“She could blend in better alone,” Nick interrupted. “I still don’t like it. It’s too risky. What if she gets into trouble?”
Karg looked at Nick. It was easy to see the concern on his face. “Nothin’ we can do about it. Orders ar
e orders. She’ll be alright. She can take care of herself.”
A sense of gloom seemed to fill the room as the two stood in silence. Nick was uncomfortable with the situation, and he could see Karg wasn’t dealing with it very well either, so he offered the only solution he could come up with in the moment. “Hey, how about I show you how to play Chess. I finally finished making the pieces. Okay, so it’s not a first rate job, the pieces don’t look exactly like the real thing, but it will still be fun. What do ya say, buddy?” Nick gave Karg a smack on the shoulder, or as high as he could reach, then pulled his hand away and stared at his buzzing fingers. Karg’s muscle bound body was like hitting concrete. No give to it at all.
Karg turned toward the doorway. “No thanks. I think I’ll just go back to my quarters and turn in.”
Nick was itching to play a game of Chess. It would take his mind off Arya being alone down there on that planet, and it would probably cheer Karg too. “Come on, you’ve been pestering me all week, asking when I would teach you. It’ll be fun.”
“Alright, but I hope you lose more gracefully than Sirok does.” Karg grinned, showing a row of wide, blunt, and very large teeth. The grin made him look like an ogre and came off more like a grimace than anything else, but Nick was getting used to it.
“That’s right. A little game of chess between the boys,” Nick said as they made their way to his quarters. “Take our mind off our problems for awhile. That’s the way the boys do it back home. Put our heads in the sand and hope no one shoots us in the ass.”
Despite his cavalier words, Nick’s mind was still on Arya and the hope that she would come back in one piece. He may have landed in this sector of the universe by accident and mucked up their world even more than it was already mucked up, but these three were friends now. They had a connection. Part of that connection was based on a similar need for survival, but part was also…well, the normal trajectory of friendship. Get your ass nearly blown off and you tend to bond with the rest of the team who were also worried about getting their asses blown off. Watch each other’s backsides enough and friendship would develop. Nick had a right to be worried. The dangers on that planet were obvious, and Arya was a damn fool for going there alone.
Meanwhile, several sectors away, aboard the Dragoran Dreadnought Grok….
The Grok’s First Officer turned from his position at the communications console. “Captain, Commodore Tawyk on priority-one channel.”
Captain D’rog released a low, raspy groan. “I’ll take it in my quarters, Lieutenant.”
The centrally located chair swiveled and rocked as D’rog stood and headed for the door at the rear of the bridge. As he approached, the pneumatic door swished open, revealing the Captain’s quarters. Its strategic location directly off the bridge was a design common to all Dragoran vessels. The feature gave the Captain quick access to command in case of an emergency.
D’rog made his way through the hot and humid room to his desk, where he sat down and activated his vid-link. The reddish glow of an overhead infrared light bathed him in warmth as he sat in his extravagantly decorated chair.
A strong, deep, computer-synthesized voice requested his security clearance. “Priority authorization required,” the voice prompted.
D’rog answered without hesitation. He was well accustomed to the routine precautions. “Hektura tok neth.” He stared at the monitor while the system scanned his large, scaly reptilian head.
“Voice print and facial identification recognized.”
The monitor displayed the image of an impatient Commodore Tawyk. “Why haven’t you secured my prize, Captain?” The Commodore’s sharp teeth showed through his sneer.
“Sir, they have eluded capture. They are—”
Commodore Tawyk interrupted with a guttural roar. “You mean they’ve eluded you! I’m not interested in excuses, Captain! I chose you because your records indicated you were the perfect choice for this mission. Was I wrong?”
“No, Sir. I will capture that ship. You have my word.” D’rog’s posture straightened.
The Commodore’s lip rose on one side as he leaned into the vid-screen. A stream of saliva slipped from his upper teeth, falling onto his lower jaw as his lip quivered in anger. “You better, Captain. Your life depends on it, as well as the lives of your family. And you have my word on that!” The screen went blank, leaving the Commodore’s final angry words reverberating off the walls of the room. The remarks circled around in D’rog’s head as he sat staring at the blank screen. Anger and fear welled up from inside him until he was bursting at the seams with rage.
D’rog jumped up from his chair and swung his powerful reptilian arm. The objects on his desk went flying across the room, shattering into small pieces as they impacted the wall with intense force. “This small Resistance cell is cunning, but they will not embarrass me again!” he snarled.
A few days later, on the Ashok….
Nick had a tendency to get wrapped up in his thoughts and forget to eat, but a loud growl from his stomach and a gnawing sensation of hunger reminded him that food was accessible and he should get a bite while the getting was good. Maybe he could swing by and get Karg on the way to the mess hall.
Sirok’s voice was clearly audible in the hallway as he approached Karg’s quarters. “Sorry, Karg. No word from Arya yet. She was probably just delayed. You know her. She wouldn’t contact us if she was afraid it would give away her position, or ours. Probably just lying low. We’ll hear from her soon.”
“Let me know if you hear anything,” Karg replied.
Nick listened intently. The big guy sounded a little down, still worried about his friend.
Nick stepped into the open doorway of Karg’s berth and knocked on the wall. Karg always seemed to leave his door open. Kind of reminded Nick of his sister. Her door was always open. Personally, he preferred to keep his closed, probably just out of habit. As a kid, if he left his door open, his sister would always interrupt him and mess with his stuff. Back then he wished she would leave him alone. Now he longed for one of her silly interruptions.
Karg turned to see Nick standing there in his usual thoughtful daze. “Nick, come in.”
Nick snapped out of his nostalgic trip. “I was headed to eat. Thought I’d see what you were doing.”
“I’m not doing anything really, just taking advantage of the downtime to clean my rifle. I like to be prepared. I can always eat, though.” Karg set his plasma rifle down on the table in front of him and tossed the rag he’d been using on top of it.
Nick noticed a picture of Arya lying next to the gun on the table. “Still nothing from Arya, huh?”
“No.” Karg replied without looking at Nick. “The wondering is starting to get to me. I’m sure she’s okay, though. She’s real good at taking care of herself.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Nick could tell Karg was worried about her. So was he. He just wasn’t about to admit it. Not even to himself. He had to try to believe she was alright.
“Come on, let’s grab some grub,” Nick said.
Karg gave Nick a strange look. “You don’t even want to know how that translated.” He visibly cringed, which was an unusual thing to watch.
“Food. Grub is food. I’m starving. Let’s eat.” Nick’s stomach twisted and gurgled at the thought. “You coming?”
Karg jumped up and followed Nick out the door.
“She’ll be okay,” Nick muttered. “She has to be okay.”
A few hours later….
Nick was making his way down the corridor, intent on returning to his quarters, but his steps faltered when the floor beneath him began to vibrate.
“What the hell?”
He stopped and turned circles, staring at the floor, trying to figure out what was causing the strange vibrations. Is the ship under attack? Thump, thump, thump. The vibrations strengthened. The reverberating hollow thuds were coming from somewhere down the hall. It started out softly at first but grew ever stronger with each thump. Nick put his hand agai
nst the cold metal wall of the corridor to steady himself as he decided whether or not he should run. Could it be the sound of cascading explosions tearing through the hull? His heart pounded faster as the thundering noises intensified. Crap, whatever it was, it was definitely getting closer!
Suddenly, Karg rounded the corner swiftly, almost plowing Nick over as he passed. Momentarily knocked off balance, Nick pushed off the wall to right himself and ran down the corridor behind Karg. The very thought of Karg running from anything caused a tingle of fear to race up Nick’s spine. He wasn’t about to get left behind. Nick didn’t even know where he was going; he was just following the big guy. But as they ran, something odd registered in Nick’s brain. Now the sounds were in front of him.
“What the…?” Nick cocked his head as he watched Karg’s feet impacting the floor. The sounds weren’t explosions at all. The strange vibrations were coming from Karg’s massive weight, shaking the ship as he ran down the hall. “Karg, what’s going on?” Nick called out. “Wait….”
As Nick sprinted down the passage, trying to keep up, Karg hollered back over his shoulder. “It’s Arya. She’s back, but her ship’s shot up bad.”
Nick stumbled around Karg as they both entered the hangar bay in time to see a beat up transport ship coming to rest on the floor. Carbon scoring on the hull and the hiss of a coolant leak on the port side were clear indications the craft had been in a battle. The transport’s door opened. A second later, Arya fell out onto the deck. Her eyes glazed, she pushed her face up off of the deck a few inches and then collapsed again to the floor.
“Sket!” Karg ran over to Arya’s side. “Arya?” he yelled as he knelt beside her.
The hangar bay’s access door zipped open and Captain Argos approached the two from behind as they leaned over Arya’s motionless body. “How is she?”
Nick moved aside to let Argos come in closer.
Karg was already feeling for her pulse. “She’s alive, Sir!”
