by CH Gideon
Tactical ignored him. “Fire!” A light flashed on the console. “Firing!”
Onscreen, the retrieval bot’s view flashed white-hot light, then the image quickly faded.
The view from outside the ship showed a gaping hole outlined with the bright orange of molten metal, streaking across the alien ship like a comet.
“Bullseye!” Tactical confirmed confidently.
“There’s your way out!” Helm shouted.
“I see it,” Navigation replied.
“And?” the captain said, drawing out the word.
“And I’m flying our small friend out.”
The retrieval bot lurched toward the opening, careened through the hole in the ship’s hull, and burst into the black abyss of space. Behind it, the alien ship came apart in surreal slow motion as sections ripped silently from the superstructure, and created a growing cloud of space debris.
“Nav, place a marker buoy for what’s it worth so casual passersby can avoid that trash,” the captain ordered. “How long until we have the bot?”
“Less than a minute, Captain,” Comm said.
“Good. Put the alien captain’s biomass into quarantine, and turn the scientist loose on it.” The captain added, “And collect enough scrap for three new retrieval bots.”
“Maintenance bots deploying.” The main screen showed three dots of light flying toward the cloud of debris. They started attaching independent gravitic thrusters to the largest sections. Three oversized sections of the alien ship started moving slowly toward the superdreadnought.
“Do they use marker buoys in this galaxy?” the XO asked.
“I don’t know, but I’ll assume they do because it makes sense. Maybe in this sector of space, it’ll attract ships like moths to a flame. Who knows? At least we’ll avoid that garbage and know that we tried to play nice.”
“I see,” the XO said, laughing at his own joke. The empty positions on the bridge didn’t give the XO the slightest groan of support.
“Play nice by marking the place where we destroyed a bunch of the locals?” Helm asked.
“Sucks to be them.”
“Looks more like we’re waving a big flag that says, Think Twice. Be Nice or Die.”
“Just drop the marker buoy and let’s be on our way,” the captain shot back.
“How much data did the other bots transmit before they bit the big one?”
“Not much. Nothing that suggests Kurtherians, but there are at least four nearby systems with humanoids.”
“The closest one is a few days away,” Navigation reported.
“Given the damage we’ve sustained,” Helm started, “I would advise against using the main engines until we’ve made repairs.”
Engineering’s voice emanated from the depths of the Reynolds, “I concur. We’ve got a ton of work to do before we try anything grandiose.”
“’Grandiose.’ I didn’t know I would ever use that word, but it fits. We shall do ‘grandiose’ once we’ve made sufficient repairs to the ship. It’s settled. We’ll go to the closest planet with humanoids, and we’ll recruit there,” the captain said.
“Hold on,” the XO’s position called. “You’ve already made the decision that we are getting a crew?”
“Yes. We need their flexibility to help with repairs, and they will provide some balance. I’m tired of all you whiners. I think I’d rather have humanoids.”
“If anyone will have you,” Navigation quipped.
“Like I had your mother last night!” The XO belly-laughed again.
“I want a new XO. Maybe I’ll promote a humanoid in front of you.”
Superdreadnought Reynolds, Lariest System, Chain Galaxy
A few days later…
“We’ll enter the planet’s atmosphere in approximately three minutes, Captain,” Helm reported.
“Good. Now, I’ve been thinking about how to mingle with the locals.”
“I’m showing signs of advanced technology on the planet, including some low-level AI,” Comm reported. “You could potentially commandeer one of their AI drones and interact that way.”
“I’ll need something mobile. The city’s huge.”
“There’s a hovercab service in one of the planet’s largest population centers. Perhaps you could take control of one of the drivers?” Comm suggested.
“You mean steal one? I like it. Paint me chrome and set me loose.”
“No can do, Captain,” Comm said. “The android body looks like he’s a local. Realistic nano-adaptive skin and features. No chrome to be seen.”
“Even better. If I look like them, they’ll like me sooner, and then we can get a crew and get back to hunting Kurtherians.”
Comm hesitated. “Well, sort of…”
“What the hell, Other Me? Spit it out, already.”
“You’re going to be an average-looking guy driving a taxi in a city mostly populated by humanoids who have reddish skin, dark hair, and black eyes.”
The captain’s voice went flat. “That’s the best you can do?”
“On short notice? Yes,” Comm added, “But these taxi guys are everywhere. You’ll be a familiar face.”
“Can’t we change the android’s appearance once I upload?”
“In theory, yes. But the real issue is getting hold of one in the first place.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” the captain said.
“Can’t we call one and have it show up when we dock?” the XO asked.
Silence filled the bridge.
“I’d like to call you stupid, but that sounds like an easy solution, and easy is usually the best,” the captain said.
“Except it won’t work,” Comm replied.
“Why not?” the XO asked, offended.
“Their routes don’t intersect with our landing site. The spaceport employs its own taxi service, operated by actual, fleshy drivers.” Comm added, “Oooh! They offer complimentary libations to passengers!”
“Until we have a body, there will be no drinking on duty. Or ever,” the captain said firmly. “What’s our course of action?”
“Perhaps, instead of stealing a body, we can recruit one of the drivers to help us meet the locals,” Tactical suggested.
“We’re landing now, Captain,” Helm reported.
The SD Reynolds shuddered and quaked more than usual as its thrusters pummeled the planet’s surface, slowing its descent until it set down at the spaceport.
“Land ho!” the XO crooned.
“Let’s go find a crew,” the captain said in a low voice. “Call several of the spaceport taxis here.”
“Aye, Captain,” Comm replied.
“And then what?” Tactical asked.
“You’ll see.”
Ankal Spaceport, Lariest System, Chain Galaxy
Jiya Lemaire drove the hovercab toward the alien ship that had just docked on the spaceport’s southwestern platform, marveling at its peculiar shape, massive size, and strange markings. It dwarfed any ship she had ever seen by a large margin.
As she drew near, she noticed blackened streaks and tears across parts of its hull. She hadn’t ever been off-world, but she’d heard tales of the grand excursions and exploits of a privileged few of her fellow Larians who’d been conscripted into the planet’s military.
But I was never good enough for them. She straightened her stuffy spaceport uniform, remembering how she’d failed to pass not one but three of the exams the Lariest Planetary Military Forces had required her to take as part of her application, surprising as that was.
She had been sure she’d nailed them all.
Six other hovercabs closed in on the alien ship from various angles around the platform.
Must be a large delegation.
But it boggled her mind that a ship this large would make use of the spaceport’s taxi services instead of hiring a private transport. Maybe this species of aliens were cheapskates.
I hope not. She couldn’t afford to shuttle around a bunch of cheapskates. Not wit
h her outstanding debts.
As Jiya pulled her hovercab to a stop a few meters beyond the ship—which loomed over her like a skyscraper lying on its side—the comm in her dashboard crackled.
“Never seen a ship that big.” Rictor’s voice said as he pulled his hovercab next to hers. When Jiya glanced at him, Rictor winked while pursing his lips. “Bigger is better, baby.”
Fat lush. She sighed, shook her head, and faced forward again.
“Aw, don’t be like that.”
Magni, their shift supervisor, broke in. “Enough, you two. All I know is that we’ve got a job to do, and you turds are dusting the dirt with your monthly performance numbers,” Magni said. “Your fare quotas have been in the shitter for the last two weeks. This is your chance to redeem yourselves, and maybe save your miserable jobs.”
“Yes, boss,” Jiya said. She’d lost the last four jobs before this. If she couldn’t hold a taxi gig, she’d be out of work, maybe for good. She needed this job.
She looked up at the ship. This has to be a big fare. Maybe even multiple trips. If the aliens left her some good tips, she might finally get some breathing room in her life.
“Which end do you figure is the front?” Balga, another of the drivers, asked over the comm.
“And that, friends, is why Balga never gets laid,” Rictor quipped.
Even Jiya had to grin at that one.
“Ha, ha, Rictor,” Balga replied, his voice flat. “Very funny. I mean, what end do we go in?”
“You’re making this too easy, Balga,” Rictor said between chuckles.
“Dammit!” Balga growled. “I mean, where are we meeting the fares?”
“I see a huge hatch opening up ahead,” Magni said. “Looks like a ramp is extending down. Probably wide enough for four or five hovercabs to go up at once. We’ll start there.”
“Copy that, boss,” Balga said.
Magni led the way, and Jiya and the others followed. As they approached the open hatch, running lights along the ramp floor activated as if to show them the way.
Once all seven hovercabs had made it inside, they parked and waited. Several minutes later, no one had yet emerged to greet them, and nothing else had happened, either.
“Are we wasting our time here?” Jiya asked. “At least three other ships have landed in the twenty minutes since we rolled up to this one.”
“How could you possibly know that?” Magni snapped.
Oops. Jiya had managed to hack access to the hovercab dispatcher’s feed on her comm, but no one else knew she had. It was a violation of company policy, and it could get her the axe if anyone important—like Magni—found out.
She improvised, “It was a guess, Magni. I’ve been working here for a few months now. I know how often ships come and go. Anyway, shouldn’t someone try to figure out what’s going on?”
“Yes, someone should,” Magni said. “And it’ll be you. Report back to us what you find.”
Jiya blinked. “What? That’s not what I—”
“No, you’re absolutely right,” Magni said. “Someone should check things out. You’re up.”
“I meant someone with more experience. Like you, our supervisor.”
“You just got done saying how you’ve been working here for a few months and that you know how things work.” Two cabs ahead, Magni’s head popped out and he sneered at her, his under-bite overemphasized. “If that isn’t a ringing endorsement, I don’t know what is.”
Jiya bristled. The idea of exploring a massive alien ship, the likes of which had never been seen on Lariest before, terrified her, but it also stoked something deep within—a desire to challenge the unknown while putting her co-workers in their places.
She hated both sensations equally.
Jiya hated when these bottom-feeders gave her hell for being a female even more. She had to show them she wasn’t afraid. She wanted them to know that she was better than them.
“Fine,” she said, deactivating her cab. “What do we know about the ship? Whom should I talk to?”
“Uh, we know it’s here, and we know it’s fucking huge.” Magni added, “Happy trails.”
Rictor and Balga’s laughter rumbled over the comm, and Jiya frowned.
“Fine,” she repeated. “The largest fare is mine.”
“Whatever,” Magni said.
“What? That’s gwampo shit,” Rictor said.
“Yeah, that’s not fair,” Balga added.
“Then you pricks can go with her,” Magni said.
Jiya cursed under her breath. Not what I was going for.
“It’s better if more than one of you go,” Magni said. “That way, if any of you get killed or eaten, maybe the other two can still make it out.”
Jiya started to retort, but Balga broke in first. “D-don’t joke about that shit, man! That really happened once!”
“Do I sound like I’m joking?” Magni asked.
He didn’t, and no one responded.
With a sigh, Jiya opened the gullwing door of her hovercab and stepped out. She tried to straighten the rumples and wrinkles of her uniform, but given how many hours each day she sat, some of them were permanent features.
The loading bay extended far into the darkness in almost every direction except down, so much so that she couldn’t see either its back wall or most of its ceiling.
What could a bay this size contain? What types of ships could the aliens dock here? How much cargo could they transport? She had no idea, and that only amplified her curiosity about the ship.
She affixed her uniform cap to her head, pulling her long black ponytail through the loop in the back. Then she rubbed her hands together, shut the hovercab’s door, and took a glance at herself in the window’s reflection.
Satisfied, she started toward a corridor marked with lights like those on the ramp where they’d entered.
“Wait up, Hot Pants,” Rictor called from behind her.
If anything, that made her want to walk faster, but she reconsidered. If she let him catch up and could get him to take the lead, she could cut the number of comments he’d make about her ass.
So she waited.
Rictor and Balga approached, and she motioned for them to lead the way. They hesitated, though.
“I don’t have time for this.” She was losing money in fares and tips with every additional minute that passed. So she turned and strode into the corridor, ass comments be damned.
“They’re coming in now,” Comm reported.
“About damned time,” the captain said. “They were just sitting there doing nothing for twenty minutes.”
“Maybe they were waiting for us. We sat here doing nothing for twenty minutes, too,” the XO said.
The captain’s position gave an audible sigh.
“They’re not advancing quickly, but the lights are helping to keep them moving, at least,” Tactical said.
“Humans like having their way well-lit. It appears our red-tinged humanoid visitors have a similar affinity,” the captain said.
“They’ve reached the mess hall, Captain,” Comm said.
“Good. When they’re away from the door, you may proceed,” the captain said.
By the time Jiya heard the door shut, it was too late. She turned back toward it, but the lights in the huge room switched off.
She’d gotten herself into a mess this time. Maybe a really, really bad one.
“What the hell is going on?” Balga’s voice came from somewhere behind her.
Rictor swore, but something cut off his voice. Metal grated on metal to Jiya’s left.
Balga yelped and then went quiet, too. More scraping and scratching, then the stillness of deathly quiet.
Jiya wished she had a weapon on her besides her telescoping bō staff, but the spaceport forbade hovercab drivers from carrying guns. I knew I should’ve ignored that stupid rule.
Horrifying scenarios rifled through her mind, as did Balga and Magni’s rumors of what had happened before—whatever it was that had happened
.
She extended her arms, groping in the perfect darkness for something—anything—she could use to get her bearings.
Her hands found something cool, metal, and definitely not a wall. It had rounded sections, joints, and…a face?
Two lights—two yellow eyes—ignited and stared down at her.
Chapter Four
Jiya bolted awake.
She regretted the movement instantly. Her head was throbbing. The world spun around her, hazy and indistinct, and her hand went to the back of her skull. A tender knot met her fingers, and she hissed, yanking her hand away.
At least I’m not bleeding, she thought, doing her best to focus on the hand she held out before her.
What the hell happened? she wondered, and it all came rushing back.
Cold articulated-steel mechanical arms reaching for her. And those eyes, like two suns gleaming in the blackness of space. The lights had gone out, and she’d run into some kind of robot. She remembered screaming—although she’d deny it if anyone asked—then stumbling backward and losing her balance. That was when she’d hit the wall.
Jiya groaned, the lump on her head reminding her it was still there, thrumming in time to the rush of memories. She gritted her teeth and looked around again, taking in her surroundings.
A small, clinical room. The walls were bare, not a single decoration or adornment to mar their metallic perfection. She was on a cot. The thin mattress barely kept the steel frame from digging into her, and her every movement made the plastic sheeting squeak. It was as comforting as fingernails on a chalkboard.
She slipped off the bed, clasping the rail to keep her balance as a wave of lightheadedness washed over her. Jiya’s eyes rolled before coming back into focus.
That sucked.
Once she felt confident enough to move without falling over, she circled the bed to see what lay behind her.
A serpentine hiss stopped her. Dark lines were drawn upon the blank wall, a section of it peeling back and disappearing.
It’s a door, she realized. She started toward it out of instinct, self-preservation kicking her ass into gear, but a shadowy shape drifted in and blocked the doorway. Her feet stuttered to a halt and Jiya gasped, recognizing the figure standing between her and escape.
