Planet of Ice (The Broken Stars Book 2)

by Tony Healey

  Kort held up a finger, and fiddled with the comms panel on his suit. A high-pitched noise pierced Max's ears. He winced, and worked his jawbone to pop his eardrum.

  "Sorry, kid," Kort said. "Is that better?"

  Max gave a thumbs up.

  "Okay, based on Kirby's damage report, we're looking at a relatively small starboard-side hole." Kort gestured toward a maintenance ladder. "Should be a straight-forward repair. The hardest part will be hauling a chunk of tungsten up there."

  "Are we safe in these suits?"

  "They may be a bit beat up, but they've saved my hide on more than one occasion." Kort lifted his foot and pointed to the underside of the boot. "These magnets simulate regular gravity conditions, ensuring that we're stuck to the floor, and no one gets spaced." Kort turned around. "And this pack on our backs will keep a steady flow of oxygen to our helmets."

  Max nodded.

  "Now, let's patch that hole," Kort said. He approached a supply bin containing chunks of scrap from various salvage runs. Although he always intended to sell everything he collected, having a surplus of materials onboard came in handy for these sort of situations. He sifted through the rubble, holding up various pieces and eyeballing measurements.

  "What is all this junk?" Max asked.

  "Hey, I'm resourceful." Kort dug deeper into the bin. "This ‘junk,' as you call it, can be worth its weight in credits at times. Like right now."

  Kort cleared a path to a thick slab of tungsten at the bottom. Max held back a stack of debris to give Kort better access. Kort sunk his hands beneath the metal and heaved. Once he'd lifted it high enough, Max grabbed a side and helped ease it out of the bin.

  "Heavy!" Max panted. "We're going to move this up there?"

  "On the bright side, the toolkit is already up there, so one less thing to move, right?" Kort jostled Max's shoulder. "Don't worry, kid. I'll handle the bulk of it, I just need you for leverage."

  Kort clamped a magnetic disc on the metal slab and took the handle. The two men carried the slab of tungsten to the ladder. Kort climbed up first, stopping halfway and resetting his grip.

  "Okay, now I need you to hold on to it while I finish the climb," Kort said. "We'll go nice and slow, just don't drop it."

  "Wisdom of a sage, Uncle."

  Kort gave him a dirty look. Max anchored his feet and hoisted the tungsten slab, balancing it. Kort ascended the ladder, rung by rung, pulling the hunk of metal with him until he reached the top. Once off the ladder, he retrieved the slab and moved it aside, clearing the way for Max.

  "Come on up," Kort said.

  Max followed him to the upper deck.

  ___***___

  He walked single file behind Kort down the corridor. Max looked out the windows as they passed by, drawing imaginary lines between the stars in his head and making shapes. One combination resembled a Union warship; another reminded him of an Alpor, which made him sort of miss having Juke around.

  "Everything okay, kid?" Kort said. "Noticed you've been pretty quiet since we got off the Oppressor."

  Max sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine."

  "Well, that was convincing." Kort stopped and faced him. "You can talk to me, you know? You've been through quite a lot. More so than most kids your age."

  "I'm fine."

  "Seriously? Cause you got quite a bombshell dropped on you. Even I don't know what to make of it, so I can only guess what you're feeling."

  "Can we not talk about it?"

  "Yeah . . ." Kort resumed his path forward. "Sure thing, kid."

  Shards of torn metal and severed wire littered a section of the Maiden's upper deck. Damaged electrical panels belched hot sparks into the air. Kort stuck out his arm, holding Max back.

  "I think we've found our breach," Kort said. "Let me check it out first, and I'll call you over when it's clear."

  Kort walked backward, dragging the heavy tungsten slab. The scraping of metal on metal sent shivers down Max's spine. He felt the vibration in his teeth.

  After setting the slab down, Kort opened a cabinet and unfurled a segmented black hose. He aimed it toward the live wires and sprayed a fog of dry ice, neutralizing the threat. The panel crackled and buzzed for a few moments before it fell silent.

  "Now?" Max asked.

  Kort waved him over, and stepped through a darkened doorway. Max surveyed the damage, staring out the circular hole into space. Frayed strips of metal lined the circumference. Max estimated the hole at around a meter in diameter. Kort returned carrying a shiny orange box that rattled when he set it down.

  "First, I'm going to carve off what we need with a plasma cutter." Kort opened the kit and collected the blaster-shaped tool. “When that’s done, I'll weld the patch over the hole, and she'll be good as new . . . well, good enough, anyway."

  Kort uncapped the plasma cutter, igniting a lavender flame. He squeezed the trigger a couple of times, raising the flame with each press. A shower of orange sparks followed as Kort's steady hand guided the tip across the slab, cutting away excess metal.

  Max looked on in awe. "Whoa!"

  Within a few minutes, Kort completed a pass around the metal slab. Much lighter now, he positioned the makeshift patch over the hole, which covered the damage with a couple inches to spare on either side. Kort smirked and nodded in approval at his work. He set the patch down and rifled through the toolkit.

  "Do you think it'll hold?" Max asked.

  "I'd rather have something stronger than tungsten, but it'll last until we make our next pit stop." Kort ferreted out the grip welder and looked it over. "I'll get proper repairs sorted later. For now I'll have to wield it in place and hope it doesn't come loose."

  "So what's wrong with tungsten?"

  "Nothing, per se," Kort said with a shrug, rooting through the tools in his kit. "It's reliable enough, you just need to know what kind you're working with. Build something out of polycrystalline tungsten, and what you have is essentially a glass tank, you know?"

  "What kind is this?" Max stepped on the reshaped slab.

  Kort looked up, his eyes widened with panic. "Max, don't!"

  The magnets in Max's boots lost connection to the ship's floor. The drastic shift in weight knocked Max off-balance, causing him to drift through the hole, his legs kicking about in panic. Max watched the Fair Maiden slip away as he sank into the nothingness of space. Every muscle in his body quivered.

  No . . .

  Kort wrapped his suit's braided steel tether around a thick water pipe, and clipped it in place. With a running start, he dove out the hole and angled his body for speed, rocketing toward Max. Max saw his reflection in Kort's helmet and reached out his arm. Kort stretched as far as he could and clasped his hand around Max's wrist.

  The tether reached the length of its slack, snapping Kort back. Max pulled himself closer to Kort's body with his free arm.

  "Hold on, kid," Kort said.

  With Max secured, Kort pressed a button on his chest plate, activating the winch. The two hurtled back through the hole and returned safely to the Maiden's corridor.

  "Trying to give me a heart attack, kid?" Kort huffed, trying to catch his breath

  "Sorry," Max said. "I didn't think."

  Kort looked him over. "You alright, kid?"

  "I . . . I think so."

  Kort plopped down on the floor, shaking his head. "We can't have you drifting out into space, Max. If that message on the memory cube was anything to go by, you're kind of a big deal. Remember?"

  Max looked into his uncle's eyes and burst into laughter. He didn't know what else to do, and preferred not to shed the tears welling up in his eyes. It was better not to think about how close he'd just come to dying.

  "Oh, so we're laughing about this?" Kort said. "I was scared out of my wits! My hair can't turn any greyer, kid!"

  "I'm sorry, Uncle Kort." Max slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor. "I guess laughing helps me block out how dire that whole situation actually was."

  "Yeah, I get that," Kor
t said. "Why don't you head back to the cockpit and take it easy. I'll finish up here."

  "You sure?"

  "Yeah, I've had enough excitement for one day." Kort scooped up the grip welder. "I can handle it from here."

  Max stood up, about to return to the cockpit. "Hey, Uncle?"

  Kort looked up. "Yeah?"

  "Thanks."

  Kort smiled. "Don't mention it, kid."

  3

  Max entered the cockpit, removed his helmet, and fell into his seat. K1R-B gave a cursory look as its fingers maneuvered around the engineering station keyboard.

  "Are you feeling well, Max?" K1R-B said. "I'm detecting a massive spike in your adrenaline level, and your face is approximately three shades lighter than when you left."

  "I'm fine, Kirby, but thanks for your concern." Max unzipped his gravity suit in the back and freed his upper body. Moisture spots soiled his undershirt. "How is everything up here?"

  "I'm happy to report that all has been quiet," K1R-B said. "No sign of the ship that attacked us earlier . . . or any ghosts."

  “Uh, ghosts don’t have corporeal forms, Kirby. They could be around you and you’d never know.”

  “W-w-what?” K1R-B’s knees clanked together. “Is that true?”

  “Yeah, ghosts are totally invisible,” Max said. “Everyone knows that.”

  K1R-B spun about. “Ah ha!” He did another quarter turn. “Ah ha!”

  Max smacked his forehead. “What on earth are you doing, Kirby?”

  “I’m making sure that no spectral intruders get the drop on me.” K1R-B turned on its heels and karate-chopped the air. “Ah ha!”

  “I don’t even… oh, never mind.”

  Kort walked through the cockpit doors fifteen minutes later and took off his gravity suit, leaving it in a pile on the floor.

  "That was fast," Max said.

  "I've got some experience when it comes to repairs." Kort pounded his fist against the hull. "We've been through a lot together, this ol' girl and I." Kort noticed the empty co-pilot's chair. "Any updates on her?"

  "She hasn't returned yet." K1R-B turned to face the group. "Shall I go look for her?"

  "No, I think we should j–"

  The cockpit doors hissed open. Delta passed through with her head down, and her arms wrapped around a comms pad in front of her chest. She made her way to the co-pilot's chair and sat down, tapping her foot against its base.

  Max opened his mouth to speak, but Kort shook his head.

  Delta leaned forward, resting her chin against the comms pad. "I need help, guys."

  "What's going on?" Kort asked. "Are you in some sort of trouble?"

  "Again?" K1R-B mumbled.

  Delta took in a deep breath and released it slowly. "I received a message on my comms pad from an old . . . friend. But it's encrypted. I've run it through every piece of decryption software I could get my hands on – even the good stuff you can't buy in shops – and I can't break it."

  "Must be an important message if you're willing to go to such lengths to access it." Kort untied his long, grey ponytail, and retied it. "Just what kind of ‘old friend' are we talking about here?"

  "Look, this is a personal matter," Delta said. "I'd appreciate it if you could respect my privacy."

  "Fine." Kort sighed. "You know, this kind of thing is right up Juke's galaxy. I'll bet he could crack it in short order."

  Delta frowned, flipping the comms pad over and over in her hands.

  "He's a scoundrel, but a scoundrel on our side," Kort said. "We can trust him . . . kinda"

  Max walked over and put his hand on Delta's shoulder. "If anyone can do it, it's Juke."

  Delta handed over the comms pad with hesitation. Max passed it to Kort.

  "Just . . . tell him to be discrete, yeah?" Delta said.

  Kort examined the message and checked the file extension, which he didn't recognize. He noted the sender's name: Tanzin. Wasting little time, Kort connected the comms pad into the ship's data tablet. The tablet's screen read CONNECTION ESTABLISHED. He raised Juke on the Maiden's communicator.

  Seconds later, Juke's furry head filled the monitor. "Well, now there's face I didn't expect to see again so soon."

  "Yeah, good to see you, too." Kort opened a command prompt. "Say, I'm sending you something that I need you to take a look at."

  "What is it?"

  "Not sure." Kort glanced over at Delta, but she didn't meet his gaze. "Whatever it is, it seems important to Delta, but it's locked behind intense layers of encryption."

  "Oh!" Juke rubbed his hands together. "You know how much I love a challenge."

  "Figured you'd be the right guy for the job," Kort said. "Sending it now."

  Kort pressed ENTER on the keyboard. Delta's comms pad blinked a series of patterns, rotating between red, blue, and green lights.

  "Got it," Juke said, and hiked a corner of his mouth into a half-smile. "Wow. This is some impressive encryption. Almost unbreakable, I'd say."

  "What?" Delta jumped out of her chair and nudged Kort aside. "I thought you were supposed to be some high-level tech expert? Now you're saying that you're not a good enough hacker for this?"

  "Ouch. And here I thought I was the one with claws." Juke put a hand over his heart. "Just take it easy. I said almost unbreakable."

  Delta blushed. "So . . . you can do it?"

  "Well, it won't be easy, but give me a couple hours and let me see what I can come up with," Juke said.

  Delta exited the cockpit in a huff.

  "She seems wound up over this," Juke said. "Anything I should know before I get involved? I won't wind up in a Union prison or anything, will I?"

  Kort shrugged. "She says it's personal – doesn't want to talk about it."

  Juke smoothed his whiskers. "Okay. I'll be in touch as soon as I know more."

  "Thanks, Juke," Kort said. "Good luck."

  "Luck is for suckers." Juke grinned. "I'm just plain good."

  Kort disconnected the call and rubbed his hands on his knees. He exchanged looks of confusion with Max, and unhooked Delta's comms pad from the data tablet before setting it on the co-pilot's chair.

  ___***___

  Max hadn't spoken in over an hour, nor had the blank expression on his face changed. He swiveled side-to-side in his chair, staring down at his lap. The reality of his near-death experience finally caught up to him, and weighed heavy on his mind. He couldn’t laugh it off any longer. As much as he tried to block out the myriad of thoughts in his head, they were relentless. What if Kort hadn’t been there? What if he’d died? What would’ve become of the Union’s efforts to thwart the Sjan Empire?

  "How you doing over there, kid?" Kort said.

  Max looked up, almost startled by the sudden sound of his uncle's voice. "I'm fine, thanks."

  "You know, I've played more than my fair share of Twiz in my life, and everyone's got a tell."

  “Huh?”

  "What I'm saying is that you don't have much of a Twiz face." Kort got up from the pilot's chair and sat down in the empty seat beside Max. "Play with that much emotion, and those sharks will take you for all your credits."

  "He's saying that you're not hiding your feelings well," K1R-B said.

  Kort rolled his eyes. "Anyone ever tell you you're a master of subtlety, Kirby?"

  K1R-B searched his databanks. "No. I can't seem to locate any instances of such an occasion."

  "Can you give us a minute?" Kort asked. "Maybe go see what Delta's up to."

  K1R-B made a disgusted noise and left the cockpit.

  "You want to talk about it?" Kort said.

  Unsure of how to express the complex sensation overwhelming him, Max remained silent. The weight of expectation on his shoulders was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. He understood that the tides of war hinged upon the success of their mission, and the fear of failure was almost crippling.

  "It's okay, Max." Kort patted Max's hand. "Just know that you don't have to suffer in silence. I'm always
here if you need me."

  Max stood up and leaned against the hull, staring out the window. "Do you ever think about Aquine?"

  Kort moved to the opposite side of the glass. "All the time. What I wouldn't give to watch the sun set above the ocean one last time – stain the sky with those beautiful streaks of cerulean and pink that you can't see anywhere else in the galaxy."

  "Yeah," Max whispered. "I wish I could see that again. Urees . . . I mean, mom loved them, too."

  "It's been a rough few months, kid."

  "When I fell out of the ship, I was so scared. It almost didn’t seem real, you know?" Max straightened his posture. "When I looked back at the Maiden, I didn't see the ship anymore. I saw Aquine . . . and Mom . . . you and Kirby."

  Kort rubbed his upper lip. "They say that in moments of peril, we're reminded of the things that mean the most to us in life."

  "Who's they?" Max said.

  "I don't know." Kort shrugged. "People, I guess. The point is, when we're in danger, we search inward for the memories that comfort us. Aquine was your home; Urees was your mom; they will always be a part of you."

  Max frowned.

  "Hold on to those memories," Kort said. "They will give you strength in times of need. Don't ever feel as though you have to let them go."

  "Which memories do you carry with you, Uncle?"

  "Me?" Kort chewed his bottom lip. "Don't need ‘em. I've got you, and the Maiden to bail me out when I'm in trouble."

  "And Kirby."

  "Sure . . ."

  Max smiled and smacked Kort's arm.

  Kort pulled Max close and hugged him. "You didn't die out there, Max. The universe clearly has plans for you. Remember that."

  "Do you really believe that?" Max said. "Destiny and what not?"

  "Not sure I believed in much of anything before this whole adventure began, but I'll tell you one thing: I believe – no – I know you're special."

  "Thanks, Uncle Kort."

  ___***___

  A soft, ringing tone accompanied a pulsing, golden light on the Maiden's data tablet. Kort opened communication, and Juke's head appeared on screen.