The First Nova I See Tonight

by Jason Kilgore

  This was Dirken's favorite part. It was the action that made him fall in love with space in his early youth, a foundling with tattered clothes and dirty hands who had sneaked into the cabin of his refugee ship and experienced, for the first time, a gravity jump, or "gravjump," from one part of space to another.

  From deep in the ship came a low roar as a vastly powerful Jacobian gravwell generator in the guts of the craft initiated a nano Einstein-Rosen bridge — a tiny black hole or "gravity well" — which warped space around them and the gravwell panels on the outside of the ship.

  He turned his eyes to the windows and watched as the wide vista of stars seemed to accelerate their twinkle. The stars on the periphery of the view appeared to move slowly away, but if he looked directly at them, it was the other stars that seemed to move. A split second later, they all puckered into the middle of his view, then exploded back outward again in a brilliant rainbow flash. When the flash ended, new stars appeared. And off to the right, a fantastic nebula resplendent in clouds of blue and red. There wasn't so much as a tremor as the ship folded through space to its new location.

  "Sir!" shouted a sensors lieutenant. "Multiple contacts off both port and starboard."

  It wasn't unusual for ships to congregate near jump points, but something about the lieutenant's voice told Dirken something was off.

  First Mate Prasad commanded, "Identify."

  The lieutenant replied, "Two brigantines, a corvette, and a swarm of small contacts from each of the brigs, sir. None of the ships have identifier transponders; they're running dark." Then another crewman added, "Their specs conform to vessels associated with pirates."

  "Battle stations," Captain Chen said. "Spin up the gravwell engines as soon as possible."

  An alarm rang through the corridors on the ship-wide intercom. Dirken knew the crew would be running either to battle stations or interior safe rooms and readying the medical bay for casualties.

  In the bridge, the various officers exchanged looks of alarm, eyes wide, but they kept their mouths shut. Up in the command deck, the Captain and her commanding officers kept a steely gaze.

  "Focus on the small contacts and identify," Prasad said.

  "Fleas, sir!" came the response a moment later. "Approximately two hundred of them. Other contacts closing."

  Fleas. Dirken knew very well what they were up against, as surely as the Captain and First Mate would know. Small attack drones, each only as large as a serving platter, equipped with simple propulsion and either cutting lasers or tiny bombs. Some were automated, some were remote controlled, but they served only one real purpose in a situation like this: a swarm of hundreds or even thousands would descend upon the critical outer parts of a ship and cut them to ribbons, disabling the ship, or cutting holes in the hull to depressurize. Only flak cannons or EMP burst emitters were effective against a swarm.

  "Shut the blast screens and open fire!" the Captain shouted, and a metal shield came down over the bridge windows.

  Dirken didn't wait around any longer. He stepped back to the supply room. The yeoman, wide-eyed, seemed lost. "Sir, maybe you should…." Dirken ignored him and entered the room, closing the door behind him.

  "What's going on?" Yiorgos asked. He'd shut off his Netfolding projection.

  "It's an attack. Two brigs and a corvette just launched fleas."

  "Mafia?"

  "Not their style. Probably pirates."

  "Against a destroyer?! Which pirates? Coros the Dark? Or do you think it's the Ursan, Dn'tors?"

  Dirken scratched at the stubble on his chin. "Too close to Earth for Coros. And last I heard, Dn'tors had the weeping pox. No, I think this may be the Gleeza twins, or perhaps the pirate known as the 'Bloodhawk.' Word on Mars was that he's in this region, but I don't know much about him."

  "Never heard of him," Yiorgos said. "But whoever it is, they've got balls. Even if they succeed, they'll have the whole Silver Fleet hunting them down. I doubt there's much cargo aboard. They must want the weapons tech."

  Dirken heard plasma cannons discharging from a distant part of the ship. Then hundreds of ominous bangs rang out as fleas made contact with the hull.

  "Clearly they're desperate for something," Dirken replied.

  He wondered, What the hell could be so important that it would warrant attacking a United Worlds destroyer?

  They looked at each other then both turned their eyes to the safebox.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SPACE PIRATES

  "Stay with the safebox," Dirken said as he armed his blaster and checked the charges. He stepped out of the room. The blond yeoman reached out. "Sir, you should stay in the…."

  Dirken waved him off. "Shut it, pipsqueak," he said without looking back, and left him behind.

  Dirken peered around the corner at the bridge. The command center was alive with organized action.

  "Rear Array 2 immobilized!" shouted one weapons specialist.

  "Brigantine One now 1.2 kilometers and closing," said a sensor technician.

  "Hull perforation on Engineering Deck 3," said an engineer. The holographic display beside her showed the destroyer in blue miniature glowing light with red splotches across its hull and a blinking red area on the back of the third deck.

  "An armed shuttlecraft has detached from the corvette," said a navigator, looking up at a holo display that showed each of the four ships and a smaller vessel breaking away from one of the larger ones. "It could be a boarding party."

  Other readouts were projected in the air over each action station, and viewscreens on every side of the room showed schematics and navigation charts.

  "Status on gravwell spin-up?" Captain Chen shouted.

  "Fifteen minutes."

  "Notify UW command that we have been attacked and that we need back up."

  "Aye, Captain!"

  Just then the ship was rocked by an explosion, momentarily disrupting the gravity flooring. Dirken felt his body lift from the floor ever so slightly until he was on his toes, then the gravity came back on and he thumped back down.

  "Status?" the First Mate Prasad demanded.

  "That was Auxiliary Propulsion Tank 2," replied an engineer. "But the explosion damaged the leads for Thruster 18 and took out the primary grav plating generator. Running on the back-up generator, now."

  "Concentrate fire on the shuttlecraft," said the Captain to weapons control.

  "Which one? There's a second launched from Brigantine Two."

  "Both, then. Time until the shuttles reach us?"

  "About ten minutes at current velocity," replied the navigator.

  "Weapons array 2 is offline," shouted a weapons specialist. "Ma'am, the fleas are now concentrating on the hangar."

  Dirken had heard enough. The pirates knew their stuff. They were targeting weapons and engines and would soon try to get the boarding parties from the shuttlecraft to the hangar. He started to turn, then heard a phrase that left his blood cold.

  "Sir! Bogeys inbound! Light torpedoes. Ten… No, twelve."

  "Evasive action! Release countermeasures!"

  Dirken stepped back into the storage room and said to Yiorgos. "Torpedoes inbound!"

  Yiorgos's eyes widened and he jumped up, the servos in his mechanical knees whining.

  "Wait…" Dirken said. Something didn't add up. Why would they bother with boarding parties if they just want to destroy us?

  Then he realized. He turned and ran back to the bridge, Yiorgos yelling, "Where are you going?" behind him.

  "…ten seconds," shouted the sensor specialist, in the bridge.

  "Captain! Commander!" Dirken yelled. She and the First Mate turned. "I don't think those are torpedoes."

  "Go back to guarding your cargo, Mr. Nova," First Mate Prasad said.

  "Inbound, five seconds!" cried the specialist.

  "They're not trying to destroy us," Dirken said, "or they wouldn't bother with the fleas and boarding party. Those aren't torpedoes. They're barrage bots!"

  And then they hit
. The hull resounded with an echoing boom. Air hissed through vents as some chamber of the ship was depressurized, then abruptly stopped as the ventilation system closed off. Warning lights went off on numerous consoles across the bridge.

  "Four made it through," shouted an engineer, the holo of the ship now considerably more red. "Decks 2, 3, and 4 punctured on starboard side!"

  Dirken explained. "They launch like a torpedo and, once puncturing the hull, they turn into hunter droids."

  "On the main monitor!" First Mate Prasad said. The front wall showed an image of one of the punctured hull points. Two crew members went flying past, pulled into the vacuum of space. But in the center of the field, just inside the ripped hull, something else moved. Something metallic. First one limb, then another, and then the human-sized, spider-like robot stood, turned its half-dozen red eyes toward the camera, and skittered off-screen.

  "Sir! Security has engaged the droids," said an officer.

  Multiple screens showed the action. One droid, partially damaged, whipped around the security officers, slicing off a leg, cutting a throat, chopping a pulse rifle in half. It moved so fast that the guards hardly had time to react before they were cut down and left to die and the bots went to the next area.

  "Secure and lock all bulkhead doors!" Captain Chen said.

  Another principal officer put his hand on the Captain's shoulder. "The crew will be trapped in there with them!"

  Captain Chen glanced downward and bit her lip, but then looked up again without a word to him. She touched a panel. "All crew," she said over the com, "we have been boarded. Arm and shelter in place! Repeat, we have been boarded. Arm and shelter in place!"

  Dirken had had enough. He went back to the storage room. The yeoman had produced a miniblaster and looked at Dirken with wild, frightened eyes. Dirken stormed past him into the room.

  "These morons will get us killed!" Dirken said to Yiorgos. He threw his pack over his shoulder, then he grabbed the safebox by the handle and grunted as he hefted it. "Damn, this is heavy." Then he added. "Hunter droids are loose on the ship. Come on!"

  "And just where do you think we're going?" Yiorgos asked. He extended his prosthetic right hand and transform his forearm into a plasma saber. The long, curving blade hummed, then the edge glowed with a molten blue plasma field.

  "The hangar." He looked around the corner then bolted past the yeoman toward the bridge exit.

  "Sir! You can't go that way!" the yeoman warned. "Go back to the room. I'll… I'll protect you!"

  "Beat it, kid," Dirken said, and pushed the yeoman aside. "That pop gun of yours won't do shit against a hunter droid."

  The yeoman followed them anyhow.

  "The hangar?" Yiorgos said. "But that may take us right into the boarding party!"

  "Right," Dirken said. "The last place they'd look for us." He touched a panel and leapt through the door. "Don't worry, I've got a plan."

  "Oh, shit. Here we go. That's what you said before we crashed on Rorgos. Cost me another two limbs, in case you forgot!"

  "Oh, I can't forget, as often as you remind me!"

  The ship rocked again as something else exploded. Crewmen ran past them, eyes rolling in terror.

  In moments, Dirken and Yiorgos reached a secured bulkhead. Two security guards were by the door, blasters in hand.

  "We need to get through," Dirken said.

  The guard on the right, a lanky fellow with a face that had taken a punch or two, grimaced and said, "Go back to your station."

  From behind the door came a distant, muted scream. The guards tensed.

  "No, really. We have to get through!"

  "Look, pal," said the one on the left, a short fellow with a barrel chest. "No one's going in or out. Go back!" A light on the side of his blaster flashed red, the most powerful setting.

  More screams from behind the door. Something metallic crashed against the bulkhead.

  "I think we'd better listen to them," Yiorgos muttered to Dirken.

  Dirken huffed in exasperation. "Fine. Come on."

  The yeoman tried to follow, but the lanky guard pulled him back. "You!" he said, "You're with us."

  "What?" the young man said, but he was pulled roughly back by the guard. The yeoman looked at Dirken and Yiorgos, his face a mask of desperation, then dropped his eyes to stare at the safebox, seeming to resolve himself.

  Just as Dirken and Yiorgos turned to go back, there came a bang against the bulkhead and then the side of it started glowing, first orange, then red, then white hot.

  The left guard tapped a comm panel on his arm. "Commander, they're cutting through the starboard bridge bulkhead door."

  Dirken grabbed Yiorgos and they ran down the hall. But instead of going back to the storage room they'd been assigned, he stopped at a panel marked "mechanical access." He tried to open it, but it was locked. He pointed at a touchpad next to it. "Yiorgos, can you hack into this?"

  The cyborg looked at it, transformed his right forearm from the plasma saber back into a hand, then extended a wire from his right wrist. "I know what you're thinking," he said, "and it's stupid."

  "What? It's a good plan! Climb up into the ventilation system and make our way back to the hangar."

  "Yeah," Yiorgos said as he inserted the wire into a small port on the pad. "But you seem to forget that the ventilation system is the first to evacuate into space when the hull is compromised."

  "They've already compartmentalized it, or we'd all be dead already." Dirken glanced back down the hallway, where a explosive clang announced that the bulkhead door had been destroyed. Blaster fire echoed down the corridor.

  The touchpad gave a pleasant chime and the wood panel slid open to reveal a mechanical input and a ladder. Dirken hefted the safebox inside and they stepped in after it.

  No sooner had the panel closed than they heard screams from the guards and the echo of metallic legs skittering through the corridor.

  Dirken opened the mechanical panel and pulled out some oxygen masks and mini-canisters, which they strapped to their belts.

  Luckily the access was lit by tiny blue lights, and they climbed upward into a tight service tube with other pipes and a ventilation shaft running along it until it stopped at a closed iris at the bulkhead.

  "Need you to hot-wire a panel again, partner," Dirken said, readjusting the pack over his shoulder.

  "Mmm," Yiorgos replied, pulling out the wire from his wrist again and crawling past Dirken to the iris. "That's what I am to you, eh? A lockpick set?"

  "Only the best lockpick set!"

  In moments the iris opened. Air rushed past them into the access tube beyond, drawn by some poorly sealed leak in the system after hull decompression. The little lights along these tubes flickered on and off, but it was enough to see by, so they continued down the tube.

  More blaster fire and screams came from behind them, muted through distance and walls. The bridge, he thought. The droids made it to the bridge. We'd probably be dead now if we'd stayed put.

  Dirken banged his head on a pipe and grunted, rubbing it. "You know, my Uncle Bradley once told me, 'Boy, I used to be afraid of tight spaces. Then one day I realized that we all came from the womb and passed through a tight tube to get out. Then we spend the rest of our lives tryin' to get back into one!'" He chuckled.

  Yiorgos groaned. "Yeah, I met your uncle after the previous Mars trip. He's every bit the demented pervert you are."

  Dirken's smile faded. "Well, what do you know? You're asexual, what with your religion and all."

  "It's not a religious thing; there's no prohibition against sex for practitioners of Cyberalia. I'm asexual because that's who I am, and there's nothing wrong with that."

  Dirken couldn't really understand. How could someone not feel sexual? To him, it was just part of being alive. Hell, he'd had sex for almost as long as he'd been able to get an erection. But then, who was he to argue? Some people couldn't understand why he was a xenophile, attracted to aliens, either. "Each to their own, partne
r."

  Both threw themselves to the floor of the access tube as the air exploded in a cacophony of ripping metal and screams. It came from somewhere ahead of them. The two glanced at each other in silent agreement on what to do next. Dirken pulled his blaster. Yiorgos turned his arm back into a plasma saber.

  The attack only lasted a few seconds, then there was an eerie quiet punctuated by a dying moan and the sizzle and pop of high voltage wires. After a moment more of silence, Dirken and Yiorgos inched forward as quietly as they could.

  The tube turned left and, turning the corner, Dirken saw that the access tube had been ripped away. Electrical lines sparked where they had been yanked apart, and the room below was dark save for dozens of cut fiber optic lines glimmering in the debris and a vidscreen displaying a lovely tropical waterfall, which kept blinking in and out. There was no way to get across without descending into the room.

  And something was moving down there.

  Metal on metal. A spidery shape stepped out of the shadows, its numerous, titanium legs reflecting the blinking vidscreen. Half a dozen red eyes on the hunter droid's head turned one way, then the other, as it stepped across debris and the ghostly outlines of bodies in white uniforms.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HUNTER DROIDS

  Dirken aimed carefully and pulled the trigger. A bolt of white-hot plasma hit the droid squarely in the middle of its red eyes.

  The droid reacted immediately, spinning and leaping up toward them.

  Dirken threw himself out of the tube to avoid the droid. Yiorgos slashed with his plasma saber. Made contact with a leg. Severed it. The leg fell to the floor next to Dirken and started flopping around, a razor-sharp metal blade at the end slicing through the air just centimeters from his head.

  Dirken released a couple more shots, missing the spinning droid, then fell back with the safebox toward the vidscreen.

  The droid activated its laser, a thin red line that slashed across the room in an arc, barely missing Dirken's arm and cutting through the vidscreen, destroying it.