by Donald Swan
Arya lifted her gaze and smiled at Nick. If she only had the strength to force back the tear forming on her lashes. But his words touched a place in her heart that left her weak. The world faded away for a moment as she stared at him. Time itself seemed to stand still as their gazes held one another in ways they could only dream. Perhaps it was her longing for the moment to never end. Maybe it was the fear of what was to come. But she was lost in the depth of his eyes.
The gift in her pocket shifted slightly, pulling her back to the grim reality of why she was there. She reached down and plucked the amulet from her pocket and held it out. “I want you to have this. It is considered by my people to be lucky.” She held the necklace up, allowing the exquisitely crafted gold amulet to dangle in front of her. “This amulet is said to contain water that was blessed by the very first Queen of Aris. I’ve had it since I was a child.”
Arya looked deeply into Nick’s blue eyes as she placed the amulet around his neck.
“Thanks,” Nick murmured.
Their gazes locked and held for a long moment. This might be the last time she would ever see him again. It was taking every ounce of strength to contain herself. Her brain screamed inside her head, begging her to stop him from going through with this crazy plan. How could she let this happen? Was she really going to let him fly headlong into certain death?
Nick shook off his gaze and looked down at his hand. “I’m ready. You know what to do with this.” He stretched out his hand and opened his fingers. In his palm was a diamond memory card.
Arya scooped up the card and cradled it in her palm. “Don’t worry,” she reassured him. “We will launch the hyperspace transmitter probe along the coordinates you specified. It will transmit your recording into hyperspace repeatedly for months before running out of power. I’m sure your people will get the message.”
The plan was a long shot at best. There was no telling if the humans would be doing any more hyperspace testing, or if they would be able to retrieve the probe. But Arya was at least going to give this brave species the chance. She owed them that much. Hopefully, Nick’s calculations were correct, and his people could avoid the malevolent hand that had laid waste to her part of the galaxy.
Nick smiled but the pain on his face was obvious. He turned to head down the corridor toward the prepped and ready module awaiting his arrival in the hangar bay.
Arya watched as he walked down the long passageway toward the hangar bay and his uncertain future. Her heart sank as he rounded the bend at the far end of the hall. Her mouth formed his name, but only a whisper left her lips. Her tense throat would allow no more. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t seem to think straight. This strange human creature had her emotions running wild. She just couldn’t bear to let him die.
She fought her desire to run after him, stop him. If only there was another way. But she knew this was the only hope they had of saving her people and countless millions of lives on other worlds. She had no choice. No choice at all. Her only comfort was that his brave sacrifice would be remembered on a hundred different worlds. One day they would erect monuments in his name and rejoice. But not today. Today was the day he would die.
Arya struggled to push back her tears. She was the Captain of this vessel now. She had to behave like one. Reluctantly, she turned and headed for the bridge. She couldn’t let the crew see her in this crazy emotional state. They were counting on her strength. She had to show them what she could really do. She had to be as brave as Nick.
Karg had just finished painting when he heard the hangar’s access door open. He could tell by the sauntering sound of the footsteps falling on the metal deck that Nick approached. He set down his brush and wiped the splash of paint from his cheek. As he stood up, he found Nick on the other side of the module, grinning from ear to ear.
Karg raised one boney brow. “What? Don’t you like it?”
Nick’s eyes twinkled with delight as he stood there smiling. “It’s perfect. Thanks.”
Nick had spoken so fondly of his father’s fighter craft that Karg had decided to copy its markings onto the front of the module. From what he understood, Earth’s fighters were usually adorned with such markings. And today the research module was as much a fighter as any ship could be. The large mouth full of sharp teeth that Karg had just finished painting on the nose of the craft reminded him of a Ceruk fish from Irridian Nine. A chill ran down Karg’s spine at the thought of the large carnivorous creature. He had lost his best friend to one of those monsters while on a mission to Irridian Nine. Practically swallowed him whole. He still had nightmares about it. Karg figured Earth must be home to some similar type of scary aquatic beast.
Karg could tell by the grin on Nick’s face that his gesture was appreciated. At least it seemed to relieve some of Nick’s tension, and that had been his goal. He had little else he could give.
Arya’s voice crackled over Nick’s com-badge. “If you’re going, you better go now. We’ve just been spotted, and they’re moving to intercept.”
Nick tapped his badge to respond. “Yes, Captain. Launching now. As soon as I leave the bay, get clear of this area. You don’t want to be around when I light this thing up.”
“Understood. Good luck, Bannon,” Arya replied.
Nick slapped Karg on his shoulder and jumped into the module. He balled his fists a few times and wiggled his fingers in an attempt to overcome the adrenaline shakes as he prepared for liftoff. He was suffering the worst case of nerves since flight school. Fighting the anxiety, he closed the canopy, and with a quick wave to Karg, roared out of the bay.
Karg stood watching as Nick blasted out of the hangar on his lonely mission to fight the massive Mok’tu Star-Killer. The roar of the module quickly dissipated as it penetrated the force field that held the atmosphere within the bay. The properties of the field caused a distinct drop in the pitch of the engine noise, reminding Karg of when he’d been a boy watching the scout ships race by on Rakozi. They made the same sound. Only…back then the sound had given him a feeling of wonder and awe. Now the sound gave him a feeling of dread.
The module flew out of the gigantic bay and into space, looking like a shooting star as it banked and zipped out of view. So tiny compared to what it was about to face. And Nick inside, alone. All alone.
On the bridge, Arya struggled with the desire to radio Nick one last time. She had never called him Bannon, always Nick. Calling him Bannon just didn’t feel right, but she had the respect of the crew to consider now. There were just so many things she wished she had said to him.
“Sirok, keep tracking him. Be ready to launch the probe the moment that hyperspace window opens,” Arya commanded. She was a natural born leader and adjusting quickly to her role as Captain. It felt good to be in control.
“Yes, Ary…em…Captain.”
The module careened toward the enormous Mok’tu vessel. Their plan was that the Star-Killer wouldn’t fire on the module. A craft the size of the module wouldn’t normally pose any threat to the mighty ship, but the Mok’tu knew the small vessel’s destructive power. They had already experienced its wrath firsthand. Fortunately, they weren’t the type to take revenge. They were only interested in the power the module possessed. They wouldn’t dare destroy it.
“The plan will work. It’ll work,” became Nick’s mantra as he sped onward.
Weapons-fire suddenly erupted from the Ashok’s rear cannons. The rounds targeted the module as it sped away. Nick weaved and bobbed, avoiding the incoming plasma bursts. This was the distraction he had been waiting for. It was time now.
Nick held his breath as he flipped on the hyperspace generator. The amplitude was purposely set low. The window would be too small for the module to fit through, but it would be large enough for what he needed. Behind him, the Ashok launched the hyperspace probe directly at the opening hyperspace window.
On the bridge of the Star-Killer class vessel the Vontuk, Master Mok’tu 957 watched and listened as his First Officer reeled off informatio
n as it came to him.
“Master, the hyperspace craft is headed toward us on an intercept vector. A hyperspace jump point just formed in front of the craft. The Ashok is firing on the hyperspace vessel, Sir. It appears the pilot is trying to make an escape. But the window is too small. It’s possible the craft has been damaged and is unable to open a large enough window.” The First Officer spoke with urgency. “Sir, the Ashok has now launched some sort of probe at the hyperspace window.”
“What are they up to?” The Master spoke in a low tone, his question directed at no one in particular. He stared at the display in front of him for a moment. “Hold your fire.”
“I’m picking up a transmission,” the bridge officer announced in his synthetic Mok’tu voice. “Language codes also being transmitted on a sub-channel. Translating….”
Over the radio channel, the translated human voice came in loud and clear.
“This is Nick Bannon. I have what you want. I am willing to make a deal.” Nick dodged the Ashok’s incoming rounds as the probe raced past him and disappeared into the window. He reached over and shut down the hyperspace generator. “I will give you the module. Hell, I’ll even teach you how to use it, if you promise to leave the planets in this sector and my own world alone. Oh, and in case you get any ideas, I’ve rigged the module with Coronite. You do anything that I don’t like and you can kiss this module and its hyperspace tech goodbye.
The bridge fell silent as the transmission ended. A beep from a console broke the tense moment, alerting the Second-in-Command to a change in the readings. “The hyperspace window has collapsed, Sir.”
The First Officer patiently awaited the Master’s orders as the small craft continued its approach. “He could easily destroy us if he gets within range, Sir.”
The powerful robotic body of the ship’s Master sat motionless in its chair. The nanite enhanced organic brain inside its metal skull was busy deciphering Nick’s strategy. After a moment of silence, the Master Mok’tu turned to his second in command. “Yes, he could destroy us. Yet we can’t fire on his ship or we risk losing the hyperspace technology we so desperately seek. And he knows that!” Master 957 tapped his metal finger on the arm of his chair. “Scan that ship. I need to know if he’s bluffing,” he commanded, his synthesized voice laced with agitation.
The Master Mok’tu accessed a screen on his command chair that displayed a standard text communication form addressed to High Command. Mok’tu short code scrolled across the messaging form. ‘Master 957 to Command. Request following action.’ The Master Mok’tu’s wireless neural interface continued to type his message to High Command. When it finished, he sent the transmission without ever lifting a mechanoid finger.
“Sir, scans do reveal high concentrations of Coronite on board the craft,” the First Officer announced.
Pushing a button on his console, the Master opened a com-channel to the incoming craft. “M-957 to pilot of hyperspace vessel. How do I know you will not attack us when you are within range?”
“You don’t,” Nick replied over the com-channel. “I guess you’re just going to have to decide if this technology is worth the risk. I could always go over to see your friends the Dragorans and make them the same offer. I bet your higher-ups would be pretty pissed off if you lost this tech to the Dragorans. Or if you destroyed the only vessel carrying it.”
M-957 stared at the forward screen, confident in his superiority. “It won’t be long before we develop hyperspace weapons for ourselves, so why would I take such a risk? Besides, I don’t think you’re in much of a position to negotiate. You don’t actually think I’m just going to let you leave?”
Nick was taking a huge risk, playing a dangerous game. The Mok’tu could decide to blow him out of the sky. But he was betting that the metal bastards would instead pursue the acquirement of his technology at all costs. After all, it could take them a long time to develop hyperspace tech on their own, if ever. No, the Mok’tu wouldn’t dare destroy the module and him along with it.
“Hey, metal head. The Dragorans understand the value of what I’m offering. I bet they’d be willing to talk business. But the way I hear it, you’re the lead player in this little war. So I came to you first. Am I wasting my time here? I wonder what the Dragorans would do if they got their hands on this technology. Do you think they would let you live long enough to come up with hyperspace weapons of your own? I doubt you would have time to develop much of anything before your species was extinct! See, it doesn’t matter to me which one of you monsters gets this weapon, as long as I have a deal. I don’t care if the Dragorans destroy you or you destroy them. It’s all the same to me. So, the clock’s ticking and I don’t have all day. Do we have a deal or not?”
On the Vontuk, the First Officer’s display flashed a warning. He quickly relayed the information to his Master. “Sir, another ship is approaching. It’s a Dragoran Deadnought. It’s the Kohg, coming into weapons range.”
M-957 was not pleased. “What? Where did it come from?”
“The Kohg’s approach was masked by the planet. It’s coming in fast. They must have used a gravitational slingshot. They’re firing weapons.”
The Master Mok’tu sat back in his chair, confident the approaching ship was not much of a threat. The Dragoran vessel was little more than a nuisance to him. “I have to admire their determination, but they’re no match for a Star-Killer. It’s suicide.”
Annoyed by the Dragoran interference, he gave his orders. “If it’s death they want, let’s not keep them waiting. Return fire.”
“Sir, the Dragoran ship isn’t firing at us…it’s targeting the hyperspace vehicle!”
“Move us between them. Protect that module!” The timbre in M-957’s voice let his crew know that his confidence was clearly diminished. “The Dragorans don’t want the module to fall into our hands. If they can’t have it for themselves, they’ll destroy it.”
Caught by surprise when the Dragoran ship appeared, Nick felt like a sitting duck in the tiny module. With some fancy flying, he managed to avoid the first salvo from the Kohg, only to be grazed by the second. The energy that was released as the pulse hit the right wingtip caused a cascading systems failure. His heart dropped when all of the instruments in the module went dead. “No, no, no!” The plasma pulse had knocked out the craft’s main power core.
The module tumbled helplessly in space as Nick worked to regain system function. In mere seconds the coldness of space started to creep into the tiny cockpit. “This wasn’t part of the plan. Why is it my plans never seem to work?” he grumbled as he scrambled to get vital systems back online. He wouldn’t last long without life support. He’d be a frozen Nicksicle in no time. He could already see his breath forming ice crystal clouds in front of his face.
Nick suddenly noticed sunlight glinting off an object rounding the nearby planet. He struggled to get a better look as his module tumbled, but he could only see the object for about two seconds each time his ship rotated in that direction. Whatever it was, it was approaching fast. He just hoped like hell it wasn’t anything worse than what he was already facing.
Aboard the Vontuk, M-957 received word from his First Officer. “Sir, another Dreadnought is coming into range. It’s the Grok.”
M-957 straightened in his chair. “Ah, Captain D’rog. I see the rumors of your demise were premature, after all. A situation I will soon remedy!” M-957 turned calmly to his First Officer, the hydraulics in his machine body barely making a whir. “Target the Grok and fire as soon as the ship is within range.”
“Yes, Sir.”
On board the Grok, Captain D’rog leaned forward in his chair as his ship gained on the Kohg. “Target the Kohg and open fire.”
“Sir?” Ensign Klak was confused by the command to fire on one of their own ships and momentarily hesitated to carry out the order.
D’rog sneered angrily at the ensign.
After a muffled pop, the ensign fell dead to the floor. Behind him, smoke wisped from the barrel of th
e lieutenant’s pistol. The lieutenant stood silent, smiling proudly.
“There may be a place for you in my New Empire yet, Lieutenant.” D’rog turned back to the main view screen. “With this hyperspace weapon at my command that fool of a Commodore will soon yield to me. Or he will suffer the same fate as poor ensign Klak here.” D’rog grinned, bearing his long, sharp reptilian teeth.
The lieutenant stepped around the ensign’s body and proceeded to carry out the Captain’s last order. “Firing, Sir.”
The Kohg was caught between the massive fire power of the Mok’tu Star-Killer and a surprise attack from one of its own Dreadnoughts. It was a losing battle.
Nick had been watching from his crippled module until the massive Star-Killer obstructed his view. If the Mok’tu hadn’t blocked the Dragorans attack, he’d probably be dead already. But he had no reservations about the Mok’tu’s motives for keeping him alive. They wanted his module, but without any power, he had no bargaining chip left. They would simply take his ship and him right along with it. Unless…. He would wait to blow the ship until he was within the enemy’s hangar. That way he would do the most damage. With luck he’d start a chain reaction. But he’d rather it didn’t get to that.
Doing his best to hurry in the cramped space, Nick unlatched his restraints and tucked his miniature flashlight between his teeth as he crawled under the instrument panel. He had reserved the flashlight’s use for emergencies only and this definitely classified as an emergency. Floating in the zero-G environment, he checked the cells of the ship’s battery backup. Cutting the wires to each cell, he shorted them against the craft’s frame, one at a time. Sparks flew from the first few, but the next two were dead. After he finished eliminating the burnt out ones, he rewired groups of battery cells in parallel and then wired the parallel groups together in series. The voltage was right but at a reduced capacity. He had no idea how long the battery power would last. “It’s like replacing D batteries with double A, but it’s all I got,” he said to himself.
