by Donald Swan
Nick pushed back his chair and jumped up to take a better look. “Oh, man, that is way cool!” He tapped the barrier. “So this stuff can withstand a plasma rifle?”
“It would take a lot more than a plasma rifle, or a gaseous anomaly, to get through that,” Arya answered.
Karg glared at the two of them. “I’m starting to think I’d be better off alone in here.”
Arya turned back to Nick. Ribbing Karg wasn’t what she had come for. “I can see he’s getting back to his normal self. Maybe we should give him a break. Besides, Argos wanted you to show me how the hyperspace module works.”
Nick rubbed the back of his neck. It made sense that the Captain would want someone else to be familiar with the workings of the module, just in case, God forbid, something happened to Nick. “Okay.” Even though he was agreeable, Nick still felt a little protective of his module and the technology it contained.
“You know how Argos is,” Arya said. “The last thing he said to me was that he didn’t want to take any chances.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Argos. Always prepared.” Nick turned back to Karg. “Guess I’ll see you later, Karg. Best two out of three?”
“You know where to find me.” Looking forlorn, Karg sat back and picked at the fingernails of his bottom right hand. “Not like I’m going anywhere.”
“Not anymore, thank goodness,” Nick whispered to Arya, causing her to giggle again.
“I heard that!” Karg grumbled.
The two grinned and waved, then headed out of the door.
Nick half jogged behind Arya as they went to the hangar bay.
“I’ll never get used to how fast you walk,” Nick said.
She grinned and gave him a sidelong glance. “I’m walking slowly so you can keep up.”
“Figures,” he muttered.
The hyperspace module sat in the center of the bay, looking like a rustic, antiquated relic alongside Admiral Onaka’s sleek gunship. Arya wasted no time climbing into the module for her first lesson. Nick had always enjoyed teaching, but his students had always been wet-behind-the-ears earthlings with the attention span of a gnat. Teaching an eager alien about a technology they didn’t possess was new and different. Teaching someone who was actually interested would be nice for a change.
Nick leaned into the cockpit. “Argos is right. It would be a good idea for someone else to know how to fly this thing in case something happens to me,” he remarked, his arm draped inside the craft’s cockpit. Nick moved to reach for a switch on the instrument panel and felt a gooey substance on the side of the module squish against his chest. “Damn. Slimy has been messing with my module again. Last week I had to go get some of my stuff back, again, after he ‘borrowed’ it. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t always covered in goo.” Nick grabbed a rag and wiped the slimy mucus from his shirt.
“Okay, where were we? Yeah, that’s right. Beginning the art of hyperspace deployment. Now pay attention. Watch closely. The abort switch is here.” Nick touched a control switch on the left of the console. “And this over here is the amplitude control.” He drew her attention to the right of the console. “Just point the nose in the direction you want, flip this switch to arm it, and adjust your amplitude for the window’s size. The window will form about half a click in front of you. Once the window is open, it will remain at that position in space until you shut down the generator. So, regardless of the change in your orientation, the window will remain fixed in that one place until you turn it off. Or the generator blows out. Just be sure you’re not inside the window when it collapses.”
Arya’s eyebrows arched upward. “Yeah, I’ve seen what happens when something gets caught in a collapsing hyperspace window. I wouldn’t want to end up like that.”
Suddenly, a high pitched siren wailed through the bay, startling both of them. “Christ! Now what?” Nick exclaimed.
A voice squawked from Arya’s com-badge. “Arya? Arya, where are you?”
Nick didn’t recognize the voice. But he hadn’t really had a chance to meet the entire crew yet, small as it was.
Arya’s concern was apparent as she tapped her badge. “Kyrk? What’s going on?”
Nick raised his brow. “Kirk?”
Arya quickly waved her arm at him. “Shush!”
“Arya. The Captain…he’s dead!”
“Argos? Argos is dead?” Arya’s head and shoulders dropped. “How?”
“He’s been shot. A close range plasma blast to the chest.”
Arya looked confused. “What are you doing on the bridge? Where’s Sirok?”
“Sirok is gone. I came to give Argos the latest report on the Mok’tu, but the bridge was empty. That’s when I found him in his ready-room. He was just lying there on the floor in a pool of blood, dead. Then I noticed that he had managed to write two words on the floor with his own blood. ‘Spy is’ was all he was able to write before he died. Arya, there’s slime on the Captain’s console.”
A few beeps filled the silence while Kyrk worked the control console. “And that’s not all. A wide beam transmission was sent out from this console, detailing our exact location. It was broadcast on a Dragoran channel! I don’t know how, but all vid surveillance and other data logs have been erased. I didn’t even know that was possible. It’s triple purple encrypted access.”
Nick automatically pulled his plasma pistol from its holster. “That slimy bastard! I never did trust those beady little eyes of his. All four of them!”
Nick’s heart skipped a beat when Arya turned her face toward him and he saw the tears streaming down her speckled cheeks. The news of Argos’ death had impacted her deeply.
“Argos was like a father to me. I can’t believe he’s gone,” she sobbed.
He brushed a tear off one cheek and was startled to realize how soft her skin felt beneath his fingertips. “Don’t worry,” he murmured as he gazed into her green cat eyes. “I’ll find that bastard.”
The death of Argos had brought out deep emotions in him as well. He had come to respect the man, even admire him. Argos reminded him of another important man in Nick’s life. His father. Just like Argos, Nick’s father had always commanded respect, and always comported himself with dignity and honor. Slimy was going to pay for his treachery. That was a promise Nick would keep.
“It must have been Sirok that erased those files. He’s our best tech. If anyone could pull it off, it would be him.” Arya sniffed hard and wiped the tears from her face, her eyes now filled with steely determination. “You go and help search for Sirok. I’ll stay here and guard the module.”
Nick hesitated, concerned about leaving her alone in the hangar bay.
Arya waved him on. “Go. I’ll be okay.”
Nick reluctantly agreed. Seconds later, he cautiously entered the corridor and headed straight toward the lab. “Karg, I’m on my way to let you out of isolation,” he said into his com-badge.
“It’s about freking time! Hurry up or I swear I’m going to rip this door off!” Karg huffed in frustration. The pounding of Karg’s fists on the door rang out loudly over Nick’s com-badge.
“Hold on, buddy. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Growing ever more wary of the dangers all around, Nick made his way through the dark corridor. Sirok could be hiding anywhere in the gloomy passages. As far as Nick was concerned the ship could use a little more lighting in the hallways. His inferior human eyesight was really becoming a problem for him now. Apparently, he was the only species on board that found the lack of visibility annoying. Nick stared into the darkness, trying to discern the shapes before him. Damn, if only he’d brought a flashlight.
Alone in the darkness, he jumped every time the ship made a noise. He’d never paid much attention to the normal creaks and sounds of the vessel before, but now they were downright unnerving. His heart beat faster with each step he took. The widely spaced row of overhead lights running down the corridor glowed softly, like dim street lights down an old deserted country road. In between, utt
er darkness. The dark recesses and blind corners had Nick’s chest pounding with fear as he pushed forward.
As he nervously crept along, one of the overhead lights glistened off a glob of slime stuck to a door access keypad. The door was still open. Nick crept up quietly to the entrance and quickly bobbed his head into the doorway and back out again. Damn, it’s too dark to see anything. Walking into the unknown completely blind was definitely not on his favorite-things-to-do list. He paused to gather enough courage to enter the room. “This is such a bad idea.” One...two….
“Nick! Where the hetek are you?” Karg’s voice blasted over the com-link.
The sudden loud sound of Karg’s voice booming through the dead quiet hallway almost caused Nick to come unglued. “Dammit, Karg! Hold on, I have to check something out.” Nick took a long, slow breath and held it for a moment as he tried to overcome the effects of the adrenaline racing through his veins.
“Crap!” Nick reached down and flipped on the light attached to his pistol. He had totally forgotten about the weapon’s built in light. “Moron,” he hissed at himself. “Can you get any more brilliant?”
Nick swung his pistol into the doorway, illuminating the room in front of him. He stepped in slowly, the clank of his boots against the tri-tanium floor barely audible over his pounding heart. As he crossed the threshold, he reached over with his free hand to flip on the light, all the while keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the room ahead. A flurry of sparks flew from a wall-mounted panel as the lights flickered on. Scared into action, Nick flinched and reflexively fired off a round from his pistol. The bolt of plasma ricocheted around the room, nearly taking him out before dissipating. With some fancy footwork he managed to dodge his own weapons-fire.
“Damn, I’m too jumpy. Hold it together, man.”
He looked around again. At least the small room appeared to be empty.
Random sparks popped and hissed from the open panel as Nick approached. A quick glance confirmed that all of the internal circuits were fried, apparently by a couple of well placed plasma blasts. Clearly sabotage. Nick swung the door to the panel closed, looking for evidence of what the damaged circuits were used for. He was confronted with a row of alien letters printed across the cover. Damn, I’ll have to go get Karg to read it.
Suddenly the word ‘Primary’ appeared, floating just below the alien letters on the door panel. Startled, Nick jumped back. The word seemed to hover in mid-air, just in front of the panel.
“What the…?” Nick blinked several times, but the word still hung there in front of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, but he could still see the word. He deliberately held his eyes closed for a moment. Strangely, the apparition of the word slowly faded away.
Oh my God, what’s happening to me? What’s wrong with my eyes?
Nick opened his eyes again, unsure of what to expect. He stared down at the base of the wall in front of him. Nothing. No mysterious visions of words. His gaze was drawn back to the panel. The words ‘Primary Weapons’ appeared before his eyes, floating right beneath the alien writing on the door. Like a ghostly phantom, the translucent letters hung there in the void between him and the panel.
“Shit! No way.”
Nick spun around and looked at the panel on the facing wall. The words ‘Primary Weapons’ were replaced by the words ‘Plasma Cooling.’ Nick reached out to touch the panel. The ghostly red letters were clearly visible on the back of his hand. He held his hand in front of his face. Still the words remained, but then faded from sight again.
Nick tapped his com-badge. “Karg? I’m seeing words…in my eyes. Is this normal? It’s the nanites, right? Tell me it’s the nanites.”
Karg replied through the com-link. “Yes, that’s normal. It always takes longer for the written translation system to kick in.”
Nick sighed with relief. “You could have warned me about that. Don’t you think?”
“Sorry, it’s not often we run across someone who hasn’t had the translators since birth. They interpret the signals from your optical nerve and then splice in the translated words. Your brain sees the real image and the overlaid translation from the nanites at the same time. Why yours took this long to activate is beyond me. Must be because you’re so…alien. Now, would you quit freking around and get me the hetek out of here!”
“Karg, the primary weapon circuits have been destroyed. Tell me that doesn’t mean what I think.”
“It means our weapons are down, and the Dragorans know our location. All the more reason to get me the frek out of here!”
The sound of Karg pounding on the door to the isolation room rang out loudly through the com-badge, causing Nick to throw his hands over his ears. “Okay, I’m on my way.” Nick turned to leave when he was stopped by a familiar sound echoing through the room. The low, gear-grinding noise could only be one thing. “Karg, the hangar doors are opening! I have to get back to Arya!”
“Just let me out first!” Karg roared.
“No time. Sit tight, I’ll be back.” Nick ran down the corridor toward the hangar. He slid around the corner just in time to see the bay’s access door closing. Without hesitation, he lunged forward and hurled himself head-first through the air, barely squeezing past the door as it shut. He tucked and tumbled once, coming back upright on one knee, eyes swiveling to take in the bay as quickly as possible. A quick survey revealed no sign of anyone.
Nick’s eyes scanned the landscape of small crates, spacecraft, and equipment, but no Arya.
“Where the hell are you?” he whispered under his breath.
It wasn’t smart to give away his presence, but he saw no other choice but to call out for her. “Arya?”
No response to his shout. Only the faint echo of his voice reflecting off the curved ceiling of the bay. Still worried about being shot by a spy, Nick cautiously crept around the crates and then, not wanting to be out in the open for too long, ducked behind a transport parked nearby. Peering over the nose of the craft, he saw a figure lying on the floor near the module.
“Arya!” he instinctively called out her name.
I knew I shouldn’t have left her alone. That slimy bastard. “If she’s dead I’ll—”
Arya’s head moved slightly, and she let out a faint moan.
Nick glanced quickly around the bay and then sprinted over to Arya, keeping his head down as he ran. She lay face down, her body splayed out in an awkward position on the floor. One hand was above her head and the other pinned under her. The position looked painful, but at least he saw no sign of blood.
“Arya?” He reached down and placed his left hand on her shoulder, gently turning her over. “Come on…be okay.”
As her limp body rolled over onto the floor, her mottled green hair fell away from her face. She looked so lifeless. There was no sign of movement, no sign of breathing. Would CPR work on her alien physiology? He was uncertain, but what else could he do?
“Arya!” He insistently patted her cheek. “Dammit, please be alive.”
Suddenly, he felt the pressure of a plasma pistol barrel against his throat.
Arya opened her big, green cat-like eyes. “Don’t move,” she commanded calmly, her eyes devoid of emotion and her body obviously devoid of harm. “You pathetic creature. You’re such a weak species.” Arya glared hard into his eyes, as if she were looking right through him. “Hand me your weapon. Carefully.”
Nick frowned at her. “Arya?” He hoped this was all some sort of a joke, like the ones Karg and Arya had been playing on him since day one, but his gut told him otherwise. The look in her eyes was treacherous and hateful.
“Now!” Arya screamed. “Give me your gun! Now!”
The blood froze in Nick’s veins. Her voice was so different. Everything about her was different. This was not the Arya he’d come to know over the past months.
He glanced down at the pistol she held firmly pressed under his chin then slowly reached for his weapon. Taking it gently at the top with just two fingers, he carefully pulled the pistol
from its holster and held it high enough for Arya to grab it from him.
Arya nudged his neck with the barrel, so hard that he felt like his Adam’s apple would crack. She definitely meant business. “Now, get up!” she commanded.
Nick slowly rose off his knees. The business end of her pistol never left his throat as she stood with him. The cold of the metal against his neck was nothing compared to the dark, icy-cold depths of the pupils that were staring back at him.
Arya backed toward the module and threw Nick’s pistol into the cockpit. “I have waited so long for this prize.” She ran her hand along the skin of the module, caressing it softly. “It’s a pity there’s not enough room to take you with me. But no matter, soon you’ll be safely aboard the Dreadnought. It should be arriving any time now,” she said with satisfaction.
Karg’s muffled voice, mixed with the echo of pounding fists, emanated from one of the sealed access doors. “Nick! Arya! Are you in there?”
“They’ll never get to me in time,” Arya boasted. “I’ve disabled the door controls.”
Her evil gaze never left his face. Strange, how scary her cat-eyes could look. She looked like a completely different person. “Because of you, your friends will have a few more chronits to live. The Dragorans will make sure they have you in their custody before they blow this ship, and everyone left on board, into little pieces.”
She seemed to enjoy Nick’s discomfort. “Oh, come on now. You didn’t really think this pitiful band of Resistance fighters was any match for the great Dragoran Empire, did you?” she said with an arrogant smirk.
The rustle of an environmental suit suddenly drew Arya’s attention. One of her ears pivoted around to pinpoint the noise. From behind her, a Meth crewmember that had apparently been trapped in the hangar, rushed toward her wielding a large wrench. Without ever taking her eyes off Nick, Arya swung her pistol around and fired at the worker. With her lightning quick reflexes, Arya had stopped the Meth’s attack with a single point-blank plasma blast to the face. A flame erupted from the crewmember’s facemask, blazing like a lit torch. He immediately collapsed backward onto the deck. Quite dead. The methane in his suit, combined with the oxygen in the hangar, fueled the flames for a few more seconds, until a final puff of smoke rose from the ruptured facemask of the unfortunate Coranii.