Alien Infestation

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Alien Infestation Page 23

by Peter Fugazzotto


  Snake brushed Fifi's hands away.

  "Hey," she said, "I'm not done yet. It's going to leave a scar."

  He swiveled around the monitors. "I'm going to need something to remember this little adventure by."

  Fifi slumped down in the chair next to him. "I think I've got enough mental scars to last a lifetime." She swiped the screen until the feed focused back in on the Poros, a burnt out husk.

  The explosion had been nearly blinding on the monitors and Snake had thought that the core explosion would have completely incinerated the ship but a skeleton of twisted blackened metal remained. It was entirely gutted. There was no way anyone would have survived – including whatever alien bugs remained. He suppressed a shivering and clenched his fists on the arms of the chair to prevent them from shaking.

  Fifi stared, jaws clenched, at the screen. He imagined that she must have felt that same horror and that she was not joking about the scars and nightmares that she would carry with her for years after this disaster.

  He swiped at the monitor and the camera focused in on the colony ship drifting off on its own. He imagined the emergency protocols were being started. An SOS beacon would be broadcast into deep space requesting a rescue mission. The ship technicians would be slowly awoken from their stasis. They would be confused, wondering why they had been awoken, and eventually would work their way to their control room and see the decimated Poros.

  They also would see the Phaethon and wonder if the pirate ship had anything to do with the destruction of the military destroyer and the rest of the convoy.

  Engstrom suddenly laughed at something that Crunch said. Snake wondered what was next. Not just for him and the Phaethon, but also with Engstrom. With her tendency towards following rules and order by the book, she would probably either want to be dropped off on the colony ship or demand that Snake bring her to the nearest Federation outpost.

  He swiped back to look at the Poros.

  "Lots of metal there," he said. "High grade military metal. They already took one salvage job from us. You think we could tow this back to Midasia? Enough credits for a job like this and we'll be sitting pretty for a couple of months. Would have been better if some of the insides remained."

  "You've gotta be kidding me," said Fifi. "I'm not going anywhere near that hell ship."

  "We blew it up. Nothing survived. It's just metal. A salvage job. Credits."

  She shook her head hard. "No way we are going back there. Not in a million years. Who knows whether those things can survive in space. I mean think about it. How did they get on the research vessel in the first place? And they survived on a ship with a hole torn its side."

  "So what do you propose?"

  Engstrom laid a hand on Snake's shoulder. "We need to call this in, Snake."

  "And get shoved back into a stasis prison again?"

  "I won't let them."

  "Don't know if you can stop them. Once a criminal, always a criminal with the Federation."

  "We saved all the colonists. That will mean something. That will outweigh any illegal salvage jobs you did."

  "We weren't in Federation space. We found that ship across the line." Snake played with the angles of the camera on the Poros. It would end up being a tow job, barely worth the fuel costs. Then the questions would be asked. They'd dig into the records and the next three months he'd been in a holding cell arguing for his freedom. That was the best-case scenario. The worst-case scenario was a quick trial and tossing him into another stasis prison. He imagined that being the more likely outcome.

  He glanced at Engstrom. He wondered if this was the end already. A few kisses, then back to their old lives. Wasn't love supposed to be transformative? Wasn't his life supposed to be changed forever? But here they were both slipping back into their old skins.

  "We'll call it in," he said. "But we're out of range. It will take us a week to get within range of Midasia."

  "There isn't a Federation outpost there," said Engstrom.

  "That's the compromise. We let them know what happened. They send someone to grab the colony ship. They pass word onto the Federation. By the time the armada shows up, the Phaethon will be a mote of dust against the stars. We'll ply our trade in the Outer Colonies."

  "And me?" asked Engstrom. "What about me?"

  "That's your choice. We can drop you off at Midasia and you can wait for the armada. Or you can come wander the stars with me."

  She stared at him without speaking. He could not read her expression.

  "You've got a week to decide," he said. "It'll take us that long to get Midasia."

  A week later, they all huddled again in the cockpit. Midasia, an outpost built on a craggy rock circling a desolate planet that once was home to a vibrant diamond trade, glittered in the main monitor.

  Crunch perched in a chair that was too small to properly contain him, fingers flying across a mobile keyboard. "We are in range now, and I am opening up the communications channel. Half a minute or so and we will have a direct line to the watch tower."

  Snake swiveled in his chair. Engstrom sat in front of one of the monitors.

  "Have you decided yet?" he asked. "Going to wait for the Federation to arrive or wander the stars with me?"

  She leaned forward and pulled his hands into her. She licked her lips, closed her eyes for a moment, and then spoke, "Snake, you..."

  A voice, distorted by static, cut through the intercom. "...call to anyone... there. We are... immediate assistance. I repeat..." The voice disintegrated into the static.

  Snake spun back towards Crunch. "What the hell was that?"

  "A distress call."

  "Another ship? Where is it?"

  "I don't know."

  Engstrom's hands found his shoulders. "Can you get a more clear signal, Crunch?"

  His fingers tapped madly.

  Snake toggled on the intercom. "This is the captain of the Phaethon. Whoever is requesting assistance, please identify yourself and state your location."

  Static sang through the speakers. Snake winced and slammed his fists on the control panel.

  "Bugs!" the voice said. "An infestation. We need help. Desperately."

  "Where are you?" asked Snake. He swiped at the video feed tracking fully around the Phaethon. "I don't see your ship."

  "Cursed bugs," said Fifi. "Back to that nightmare. Not ready for that again."

  "State the location of your ship!" repeated Snake.

  The voice cracked through the static. "No... ship... Midasia! We are on the Midasia! We've been attacked by aliens. Bugs! We need help. Now!"

  Snake jumped to his feet.

  "We should get out of here! Fast!" said Fifi. "Let the Federation come in here and mop up. A whole battalion. There's only four of us. We gotta get out of here!"

  Snake shook his head. "Going to take the Federation a week to get their closest ships out here. It'll all be over by then. Midasia wiped out."

  "So you want to fight the bugs again?" asked Fifi.

  "We have no choice."

  "We always have a choice."

  "Then let's choose the right thing. People need our help."

  Engstrom sidled up alongside him, slipping her arm in his. Engstrom pressed her lips to his ear and whispered. "You know what I was going to decide, don't you?"

  He nodded and smiled.

  Together, the two of them, the pirate and the soldier, stared at the screen. Midasia was quiet. No explosions. No fleeing ships. It was if nothing was happening on the outpost. But Snake knew the truth and he knew what he needed to do. He knew who he needed to become.

  And he knew that bugs had to die.

 

 

 
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