by Piers Platt
The dragon cage, from the ship! It must have fallen past me while I was floating down.
She heard more scraping sounds from the outside of her pod, and felt the pod tilt again.
“Warning: hull damage detected. It may be necessary to abandon this pod,” the female voice told her.
Oh no …
* * *
The funicular passed out of the final tunnel and leveled off, then slid to a stop. Falken surveyed the aerie through its clear canopy. He could vaguely recall several trips up to the aerie for observation sessions when he had worked at the research center, sitting in the cab and recording video, or taking notes on dragon social behavior.
But they were never this active, even during the middle of the day. Raynard really got them worked up.
Falken checked the noise cancellation staff, flipping the switch on to activate it.
… and I never got out of the cab, either.
He spotted the dragon cage that had fallen from the Starfarer first – it stood half-buried in the ground, leaning to one side, its metal support beams bent from the crash. The escape pod sat just beyond it, its parachutes draped across the ground, billowing softly in the night breeze.
Not too far, Falken thought. Maybe a hundred yards. Could be a lot worse.
But a smaller dragon stood on top of the pod, tearing at it with his hind claws. Falken grimaced. He took a deep breath, and then slid the cab’s door open. He stepped out carefully, and then let himself down slowly from the metal platform along the edge of the funicular track. To his right, a dragon stirred, and Falken froze, but it settled back down, wrapping a wing over its head to sleep.
Falken placed each step carefully, moving slowly from rock to rock. At one point, a patch of gravel shifted under him, but the noise was muffled by his staff, and lost amongst the cacophony of sounds the dragons themselves were making.
I guess it’s a good thing they’re all awake, Falken thought.
He neared the escape pod, and saw movement inside. Vina’s face appeared at the porthole, and she spotted him – a look of pure relief washed over her features. Then she pointed upward, at the roof. Falken nodded.
I know. Don’t know what I’m going to do about it, though.
A shadow passed overhead, and Falken ducked instinctively. Heavy wings beat the air, buffeting Falken in the downdraft. The dragon on top of Vina’s escape pod shrieked in alarm, and then took off into the air. Falken panicked as well and broke into a sprint, running a zig-zag path across the ground. He reached the pod a moment later, and yanked the hatch open, then ducked inside, shutting it behind him.
“Warning: loss of atmosphere. Deploying oxygen masks – please put one on immediately.”
Oxygen masks fell from the ceiling, but Vina was already wrapping Falken in a hug. “Oh, thank god,” she said.
Falken squeezed her in return, then stepped back, handing her an oxygen mask. “We’re not out of this yet,” he told her. “Not even close.”
Vina coughed, sliding the mask on. “I know. Just glad to see you.”
Falken smiled. “All these rescues cost extra, you know,” he told her, wagging a finger at her. “This is definitely going on your bill.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m getting a refund for this trip,” she said. She frowned. “Except I won it in a contest, so …”
Falken chuckled. “You get what you pay for, I guess.” He scanned her from head to toe. “Are you hurt? You made the landing okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just wanna get out of here.”
“Yeah,” Falken said. “We gotta get back to the funicular. It’s not far, but … it’s not that close, either.”
“You don’t want to wait until the dragons settle down some?” Vina asked.
“No,” Falken said. “They’re awake, but all this commotion is distracting them. Now’s our best chance.” He detached Vina’s oxygen tank from its mount in the ceiling and handed it to her to hold. “You’ve got the master key, right?” Falken asked.
Vina patted her pants pocket.
“Okay, good. Ready?”
“Ready,” Vina agreed.
Falken took her hand and pushed the hatch open. They stepped outside, and then froze. Vina’s hand gripped Falken’s fist hard.
The massive female sat perched on top of the cage, towering over them. Falken could hear his heart pounding in his ears – he watched as she tore at the cage with her snout. The metal bent, but held in place. The great creature lifted her head into the sky and shrieked with rage.
She’s pissed about the cage. Is she trying to eat the dragon inside?
The female tried ripping the cage with her back talons next, but her claws slid across the smooth metal, finding no purchase. She roared again, and butted her head against the cage’s door. Falken heard an answering roar from inside the cage. Falken frowned, watching carefully.
Wait a second …
The dragon paused momentarily. Then she seemed to sense them watching her, and her ears swiveled, pointing toward them.
Falken held himself stock still, praying that Vina would follow suit. He could sense the tension in her – in his own hand, her hand trembled.
Don’t run. Stay still.
The dragon hopped down off the container, blocking their route back to the funicular. She was so tall that he could see the funicular through her hind legs – her long, whip-like tail reached almost all the way back to the platform. The female took a step toward them, then another.
She might not be able to hear us right now … but she can smell us. And she’s got us dead to rights.
Falken glanced at the cage again, then made a decision. He dashed toward the cage, pulling Vina along behind him. The dragon hissed as it heard their foot-falls – Falken kept an eye on her as he ran, and saw her rear back, coiling her neck for a strike. She lunged forward, and Falken pulled Vina to the ground. The great head snapped past him, scraping along his back as it passed by. Falken grunted in pain, then scrambled up, pulling Vina back to her feet. In three more steps, they were at the door to the cage. He grabbed the locking bar and tugged on it.
“What are you doing?” Vina yelled.
The female lifted her head to strike again, but suddenly paused. Falken gritted his teeth and tugged, and with a metallic groan, the bar slid up, and then tumbled to the ground. Falken stepped back, and the door swung open. The dragon inside half-hopped, half-flew out – its left hind leg appeared to be injured from the crash. It ignored Falken and Vina and landed beside the female, nuzzling against her flank. The huge female covered the smaller dragon with one wing, shielding it against her side.
“She’s its mother,” Vina breathed.
Falken nodded. “That was my guess.”
The big female remained focused on them, but made no move to attack.
“Come on,” Falken said. “I’m not sure how long whatever goodwill we just earned is going to last.”
They started back toward the pod, giving the two dragons a wide berth. The mother followed their progress with her head, tracking them as they moved, but stayed where she was. When another dragon landed near Falken and Vina, the female hissed at it suddenly, and the new arrival scampered back into the air, leaving Falken and Vina alone. Then the female wrapped her offspring carefully in her talons and lifted off. Falken and Vina stopped walking, holding their breath as they watched her take off. But she ignored them, and flew instead toward the far side of the aerie.
For a brief moment, the path back to the funicular was clear. Then Falken saw a pair of dragons land on the platform. Another dragon landed on the roof of the escape pod behind them, and Vina shrank back as two more dragons began to hop up the slope of the crater, climbing toward them.
“Falken …,” Vina whispered, the panic plain in her voice.
“I know,” he said.
He glanced at the escape pod, then the funicular, but they were surrounded.
“On three, we make a run for the cage. I’ll try to close the doo
r behind us,” Falken said.
“Okay,” Vina agreed, squeezing his hand.
“One,” Falken said. The dragons on the platform jumped into the air, gliding toward them.
“Two …”
Suddenly, a piercing siren rang out across the aerie, and the Liberty Belle roared over the lip of the crater. Falken saw the encircling dragons screech in anger and pain, and beat a hasty retreat into the air.
“Go!” he yelled at Vina, seeing the ship’s ramp drop open just above them. Brondi and Raynard stood on the ramp, beckoning them inside.
“Come on!” Brondi yelled.
They sprinted up the gravel-strewn slope, and leapt toward the ramp – Brondi grabbed Vina by the hand and pulled her inside. Falken hauled himself up into the ship, and risked a quick glance over his shoulder – the air was once again filled with dragons, enraged by the sudden intrusion and piercing noise of the siren. Then the ship turned away, and the ramp slid shut.
He lay on his back for a moment, just catching his breath. When he rolled over, he saw Vina on her knees, shaking with relief while Brondi rubbed her back. Falken pulled off his oxygen mask and stood up. Vina stood too, with help from Brondi. She reached into her pocket and pulled the master key out, holding it out to Falken.
“Can we please get out of here now?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” Falken said.
Chapter 35
Falken and Vina stepped onto the Liberty Belle’s bridge, with Raynard hobbling behind them, mop handle tucked under his arm for support. They found Captain Muir in the ship’s pilot seat, eyes glued to the forward viewport. Falken saw the crater of the aerie slip away below them, as Muir took the ship into a steep climb.
“Hull damage,” the ship’s computer reported. “Multiple life forms detected on the ship’s exterior. Take remedial action immediately.”
“Tell me you got the key,” Muir said.
“We got it,” Falken told her.
“Good. Plug it in at the captain’s station, right behind me,” Muir said.
Falken leaned over and slid the key into its slot.
“There we go,” Muir said, with relief. She poured power into the main engines, and Falken felt them accelerate upwards. Muir pushed her control stick over to one side, and the ship went into a tight spiral, spinning as it climbed. On her computer terminal, several red icons disappeared off a diagram of the hull. “That’ll shake ‘em off. Go home, dragons.”
“Are we clear?” Raynard asked.
“We are now,” Muir said, arresting the ship’s spin. “Falken, hop into my station and pull up the sensor monitoring suite.”
Falken climbed into the seat and tapped on the screen, accessing the ship’s sensors. “Scan for the Starfarer?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Muir agreed. “We’re gonna need about three minutes to get clear of the planet’s gravity well before we can leap to FTL.”
Through the viewport ahead, the sleek, gray forms of the drone patrol screen accelerated out of the Liberty Belle’s flight path, barely visible in the night sky. Then the last wisps of clouds disappeared, and the sky turned a deep, inky black, the stars shining brightly as they passed out of the planet’s atmosphere.
“Behind us!” Falken yelled.
“Shit,” Muir said, jerking the joystick to the left. They heard the rattle of sharp impacts on the hull.
“Long range radio antenna disabled,” the ship’s computer reported. “Engine number seven is now operating at fifty percent capacity.”
“I know, I know,” Muir told it, tersely. “They must have been idling just outside the ionosphere, waiting for us to come up.”
“Still on our tail,” Falken said.
Muir threw the ship through a looping roll, and a line of glowing tracers flashed past the viewport, followed by several more impacts on the hull. The ship’s computer listed damage to several other systems.
“I thought this thing was armored?” Raynard asked.
“It is,” Muir said.
“It’s not warship armor,” Falken told Raynard. “It’s just extra plating to keep the dragons off the sensitive stuff.”
“It’s the only reason we’re not already dead,” Muir grunted, grimacing as she plunged the ship into a steep dive, then roared through a tight turn.
Another salvo battered the hull, with the sound of hail on a tin roof. At Falken’s station, an alarm began hooting. “Pinhole hull breach,” he reported.
“Okay,” Muir said. “Can’t do much about it right now.” She glanced down at her computer briefly. “Still two minutes ‘til we can leap. Shit.”
“We’re not going to make it,” Falken observed.
* * *
Captain Auresh watched through the Starfarer’s viewport as the Liberty Belle slid through another evasive maneuver.
“That extra hull plating is protecting them, sir,” one of his crewmen reported.
“I’m aware,” Auresh said. “Keep firing. Aim for the engine banks.”
“Why not just finish them with a missile?” Cadellium asked him.
“Because missiles are expensive,” Auresh said. “Bullets are cheap. And this way, we get to savor the moment a bit. They’re not going anywhere.”
Auresh punched a command into his computer terminal, and a schematic showing Olympus appeared, with icons for the two ships above the planet. Auresh tapped the screen. “And after we’re done with the Liberty Belle, we’ll go take care of the life rafts from the other tourist ship. No witnesses,” he told Cadellium.
“Good,” Cadellium grunted. “Then at least one aspect of this operation will have gone to plan.”
“Got ‘em!” a crewmember called out. “Direct hit on the engines. They’re just limping along now, sir.”
Auresh looked up to see the Starfarer fly through a small cloud of debris that had been blasted off the Liberty Belle. Only one of the resupply ship’s engines remained fully lit – as he watched, the others flickered off, sputtering out.
“Pick a point on their hull and concentrate your fire there,” Auresh ordered. “And be ready to take out any life rafts they deploy.”
Suddenly, a massive super-freighter appeared just beyond the Liberty Belle, jerking out of faster-than-light travel.
“Who the hell is that?” Auresh asked.
* * *
“Who the hell is that?” Falken asked, over the bridge’s ringing alarm bells.
“No clue,” Muir said, frowning. “Whoever they are, they picked the worst possible time to visit Olympus. The Starfarer’s gonna have to take them out now, too.”
Through the viewport, they saw the huge ship’s bow split apart, swinging open to reveal a yawning cargo bay, and a smaller ship in the shadows within. Muir gasped.
“Jiyake, you magnificent bitch,” she said.
* * *
Commander Jiyake saw the Liberty Belle turn aside, moving out of the Extremis’ flight path. Beyond the resupply ship, the Starfarer hung in space, its white hull bright against the dark backdrop of Olympus.
“Take us in, Chief,” Jiyake ordered.
“Aye, aye,” Risley replied.
The cutter roared out of the super-freighter’s cargo bay, barreling down on the Starfarer.
“Missile launch detected,” a crewman reported. “Make that two.”
“Countermeasures,” Jiyake said.
A small drone rocketed out of the Extremis’ hull, firing flares repeatedly. The first missile altered course, arcing away from the Colonial Guard ship, homing in on the drone. It detonated harmlessly several hundred yards away from the ship.
The second missile continued toward the Extremis, but as it closed with the larger ship, a missile defense system activated automatically, targeting the missile with a steady stream of bullets. The missile exploded a moment later; Jiyake heard shrapnel rattle against the ship’s armor.
“Did that hit us?” Detective Adnan asked, standing next to Jiyake’s seat.
“No,” she assured him. “Just scra
ped a little paint off the hull. Grab on to that hand hold over your head,” she told him. “The ride may get a little bumpy.”
“Ah. Right,” Adnan said, hastily following her advice.
The Starfarer fired a salvo of cannon shells, and then turned hard onto its starboard side, accelerating suddenly.
“They’re breaking off,” Risley reported, ignoring the cannon shells, which the Extremis’ armor absorbed easily. “Just changed course.”
“Heading for deep space,” Jiyake mused.
“Probably aiming to make a leap out of the system,” Chief Risley guessed.
“Trying to,” Jiyake said. “All ahead flank. Follow their new course. Weapons, I want that ship intact. Don’t get trigger happy on me, or I will have your ass.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the weapons officer replied.
“Armament first, then propulsion,” the commander said.
Down on the forward hull, the ship’s main battery swiveled on its turret, taking aim at the fleeing ship. The cutter’s lights dimmed momentarily, and Jiyake caught the briefest glimpse of a faint line of green laser extending out from the weapon’s barrel. The Starfarer’s hull glowed red-hot where the laser touched it, and a series of explosions erupted from an internal bay.
“Missiles are knocked out,” the weapons officer reported. “Must have had a few more in the racks, those look like sympathetic detonations.”
The Extremis’ lights dipped twice more, in rapid succession, and Jiyake saw pieces of glowing debris fly off the Starfarer. The weapons officer zoomed in on his visual sensors, inspecting the damage.
“… and that’s taken care of the cannons.”
“Enlarge on the main screen,” Jiyake said.
“She’s off-gassing,” Chief Risley noted, seeing a white plume flowing from the Starfarer’s side. “That last hit opened up her hull.”
“They’re shutting down their engines, ma’am,” the weapons officer said. “You still want me to target them?”
“No,” Jiyake decided. “They’re not going to be able to leap with a hole like that in their hull.” Just like we couldn’t, she thought, with some satisfaction. “Open a hailing channel.”
