Coffee Cup Dreams (A Redpoint One Romance)

by Marlow, J. A.

A group of bots took off back the way they'd come. She hoped the warbots hadn't drifted too far away from the station. Time was of the essence.

  "Have an idea?"

  Tish jerked, swiveling around to find Arthur standing next to her. "I have one more thing to repair."

  "Are you sure about that?"

  At least he wasn't trying to talk her out of it. Instead his face through the helmet visor appeared tense and waiting, his eyes intent on her face.

  Waiting for her to answer.

  The light-show above them disappeared as a surge of doubts returned. What was she really doing? Did she know? A simple Earth girl who had never been off the planet, and now standing on the outside of an alien space station hull with a deadly fight going on above her head, and she thought she knew what needed to be done?

  Yet she did. She knew she was right, right down to her core.

  "Yes, I know what to do. I'll take a few of the bots with me and more raw materials. We're close to getting the defense systems up. Trust me."

  She realized when he smiled that she'd been holding her breath, waiting to see how he would react. "As am I. Rachel, we're heading to the south block relay. Time to get power back into this section."

  "You sure about that, Boss?" Rachel asked, staring at them through the front window of the maintenance pod.

  Still looking at Tess, Arthur smiled. "I'm sure. Tish, there are other warbots in there. Don't take any chances."

  "Which is why I'm taking other bots."

  He nodded. "I won't stop you. Just… come back."

  She nodded, her throat suddenly tight. With no more time to think about it, she grabbed the arm Crimson held out. "Get me to the closest East airlock as fast as you can."

  A bright flash, followed by two more, hit the station somewhere nearby. With it came a shouted order from control to find cover.

  As she moved away she kept her eyes averted from Arthur and Rachel. She needed to concentrate. She knew what she needed to do, but the knowledge felt tenuous, as if it might slip out of her mental grasp in an instance if she wasn't careful.

  Crimson swung around a series of barrel-shapes rising up from the hull. The action in the sky became a blur as the bot increased speed. Again she felt the rumbles, the shifts in the hull even though her feet were no longer resting on anything.

  The station was getting battered in the fire-fight. The few patrol ships and the small weapons from the freighter were nowhere near enough to take on the sheer numbers of pirate ships. In her ear she could hear first Arthur and then the Station control center announce new pirate arrivals.

  The freighter was as good as taken soon. And perhaps the station? Did the pirates want Redpoint One? It would be a huge prize as well as a home base from which they could wreak havoc among both the inner and outer worlds of the Galactic Commonwealth.

  She caught a glimpse of a dark-hulled pirate ship as it flew over her. It strafed the surface, causing explosions of sparks and smoke to erupt from the space station.

  No, the station wasn't in danger of invasion, at least not yet. There were too many people to fight on the inside. But, she had no doubt the pirates were willing to cause enough damage that it might be a possibility in the future.

  At the thought she grew angry. A treasure to the humans, an irreplaceable representation of a long-gone alien species, and the pirates were showing no respect for it. Did they really think the station or the bots would accept them as new masters?

  They would be in for a very nasty surprise.

  It was with a good head of steam that they arrived at the airlock Tish wanted. She set her feet down on the hull, motioning Crimson to the controls. By the time the outer door into the airlock opened a swarm of bots converged on her.

  "Tish, where are you? Are you alright?" Arthur called. "Pirate fire is getting intense."

  "I'm in the airlock," Tish announced as she stepped inside and righted her self with the room.

  "And we're at the south relay. Power will be in your section soon. Be ready for it," Arthur answered back. "Get away from the outer hull if you can. We nearly got hit up here."

  "Got it."

  As the swarm of bots arrived she reached out the airlock door to drag one of the warbots inside. Again, a feeling of revulsion filled her at the touch. Things made for only war didn't have a place on the station. It felt wrong to bring it back inside.

  She shoved the feeling aside. She only needed what they were made of, not what they were designed for.

  The other bots each grabbed parts of the other warbot, dragging it after her. Crimson had the airlock cycled and the inner door opened within seconds. With bots on all sides, she moved inside the station. The narrow corridors with piping and hatches told her she was in one of the maintenance areas.

  Perfect.

  She stopped at a three-way juncture. One would be a safer way to get to the place needing repair. She glanced around at the shadows and twists and turns in all directions. Any of them could be hiding lurking warbots. She'd noticed how quiet her bots were.

  No, now was not the time for 'safe.' Now was the time for action and speed, to get the repairs done as soon as possible. That meant the turn to the corridor on the right.

  The moment she did, she felt nervous. The corridor was almost completely black. The piping turned smaller, weaving in and out of the walls and ceiling, then down into the floor in regular intervals. Then into tighter intervals.

  The blackened portions told her there had been plenty of explosions and fire in the area, but the piping appeared intact. One of the bots zipped in front of her, light coming from its eyes to light her way. It was barely bright enough for her to see the floor a short distance away from her feet, but it was enough.

  Enough for her to see they were passing by several bulkheads of a thickness she'd not seen before. Instinctively she knew they should be closed and tightly sealed. To protect the conduits and relay junctures, the modules and control phase distorters.

  She almost stumbled over the clunky boots. The last item had just popped into her head, the exact name for it, and she really had no idea what it was or what it meant or what it did.

  The bot in front of her continued straight on, but she paused at a turn. No, not that way of the bot, she needed to go the other. Straight to the source of the problem. The bots might be uncomfortable with her in the area, but the station over-ruled the bots.

  Her legs ached from the heavy boots and the rest of the spacesuit. She really should have taken the thing off, but that would have used up valuable time. Time she had a sinking feeling they were running out of.

  The bots spun around to follow her, letting out soft questioning chirps. She didn't speak to reassure them. She needed to pay attention to where she needed to turn.

  She almost missed it. The entrance into a narrow corridor was masked in the shadows and the twists and turns of the weaving conduits and pipes. She had to jostle the warbot to get it to fit into the claustrophobic opening. The bots ended up welding an arm off the second one to make it fit through.

  Tish didn't stop and wait for them to catch up. She knew they would eventually.

  Suddenly she was in the place. A place of nooks and crannies, odd shapes and piping and conduits connecting it all.

  None of the overhead lighting worked, allowing her to see very little of the area. The space closed in on her, compressing her even without touching. Yet, she could feel life around her. It just needed a little help to function properly.

  Finding the problem area was easy. It was the wall cratered and scorched. Miniature and even smaller bots ran across the conduits, repairing them as they went.

  The big crater was the problem. She lifted the warbot, trying to balance it upright. But, no matter how she turned or adjusted it she knew it would be too big.

  Did she really want to stick a nearly whole warbot into any part of this area? What would happen if any of the internal self-repair systems were still functional?

  "Crimson, take off its head.
Spot, the arms. You, the striped one, take off the hovering pads from the bottom."

  The bots went to work, the flashes of lasers and welding flames illuminating the tiny space. The rest of the bots arrived, and after conferring with the bots working on Tish's warbot, went to work dismembering the other warbot.

  Tish grabbed the parts as soon as they came free. She stopped with an upper arm in her hand, looking over the damaged area. What should she do now? Take things apart further? What portion needed the raw materials the most? Dozens of tiny bot eyestalks stopped to watch her from their perches along the wall and damaged area, waiting on her.

  She took a deep breath. Time to stop thinking. Time to go with instinct.

  Tish closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths. Calming the fear and thoughts racing through her head. She listened to the station around her. To the feeling of life and activity.

  When she opened her eyes she knew what to do.

  She stuffed the arm along a deep cavity between two pipes. Miniature bots swarmed over it. Part of the head went into a blown out area where a relay once would have been.

  Again and again she grabbed parts and pushed and stuffed them into any place the instincts told her it should go. Crimson and the other bots barely kept ahead of her.

  The narrow area didn't allow for much space, and yet she managed to keep from tripping or stepping on any bots. Almost as if in a silent dance, all of them moved in precise movements, moving around one another, over and under each other.

  No questioning the feelings. Just doing.

  And the doing felt good. More miniature bots appeared from holes and cavities in the wall and ceiling. Some of the bots who'd come with her left to join in with the small bots, their backs sprouting with arms and tools as they attacked the repairs.

  As she stuffed half the main body of a warbot deep into a nook, the walls around her seemed to almost reach out for the bot. She pulled back, but in the deep shadows she couldn't tell if it might have been her imagination.

  Another urge. She ripped off her helmet and let it drop to the floor. A bot scurried away with it further into the area. The belt followed, then the boots. Each article disappeared into another direction. She had a feeling no one would ever see the suit again.

  Free of the cumbersome spacesuit, she rushed from one part to another, helping to move raw materials, push or hold parts into position, urge the bots into more important areas.

  The larger bots froze, all their eyestalks swiveling around back the way they'd come. Tish froze, feeling the hair at the back of her neck standing straight up. The feeling of being watched, the certainty of danger.

  With her heart in her mouth, Tish swiveled around.

  The red glowing eyes of a warbot pinpointed the source of their concern. A glow growing brighter with each second as the warbot approached.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ARTHUR DIDN'T BOTHER taking off his helmet once he was in the pod with Rachel. No point in it.

  "Incoming," Rachel shouted, twisting the pod down towards the hull in a dare-devil maneuver that had him wondering if she intended to ram them into it. He grabbed at the edges of the seat.

  She pulled up at the last minute, leveling off to speed across the hull of Redpoint One with only a hand-span of clearance. Behind them a series of strafing explosions erupted from the hull as a pirate ship flew past.

  "Who taught you to drive?" Arthur demanded as the ship disappeared around the curve of the station.

  "We're alive, aren't we?"

  Arthur worked to catch his breath. "We can't stay out here. We're going to get shot down."

  "Then you're in luck. Relay ahead."

  Never before had Arthur been so happy to see the rounded bulb of a power relay before in his life, despite how difficult and dangerous they were to work on. Even better was the large airlock just next to it. More than big enough for the entire maintenance pod to slip inside.

  Which meant they could work from the inside in relative safety. That left one big worry still on his mind. The pirate ship had been heading in the same direction Tish disappeared in.

  Arthur activated the communication line. "Tish, where are you? Are you alright? Pirate fire is getting intense."

  "I'm in the airlock," Tish answered.

  He felt like he could breath again. Just the sound of her voice put his fears to rest. "And we're at the south relay. Power will be in your section soon. Be ready for it. Get away from the outer hull if you can. We nearly got hit up here."

  "Got it."

  A beep signaled the end of the discussion. He rested against the chair, allowing himself to breathe again.

  "Was it a good idea to send her out on her own this soon?" Rachel asked as she maneuvered the pod towards the airlock.

  A doubt he still felt, even though part of him told him that it was only his emotions saying so. He'd seen the look in her eyes, the same one he'd seen in every maintenance engineer that made a successful connection with Redpoint One. The expression of just 'knowing.'

  "She's made a connection," Arthur said, knowing he sounded far too pleased, and not caring about it.

  His Tish. He had no doubts about it. She would stay.

  Rachel whistled lowly as she maneuvered the pod into the airlock followed by several bots. "Wow, so soon."

  "And it may make all the difference."

  ***

  "Invader!" Tish shouted, diving into a cranny to avoid the weapon fire just before it exploded against the floor near where she'd been standing.

  The bots squealed, rushing off in all directions. The miniature bots disappeared into cracks and holes. She pushed herself further into the small space, trying to keep all of her body behind the swelling of pipes around her. To make as little of a target as possible.

  A loud clang and the hum of something mechanical nearby signaled the sudden return of the bots. They settled back into their work as if they'd never been interrupted to begin with.

  Tish eased out of her small shelter, her heart beating fast. A long light above them switched on, casting the area into stark light and darks.

  The way they'd come was empty except for a closed bulkhead. Directly in front of the bulkhead on the floor lay half of a warbot, the mid-section sliced in half by the bulkhead. Two bots were already on top of it, tearing it apart into small pieces. Smaller bots carted away the prizes.

  She leaned back hard against the wall, trying to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. If she never saw another warbot, it would be too soon.

  A series of lights blinked into appearance on the far side. Two bots whistled with rising synchronized pleasure. A block from the floor rose up to meet a section moving out from the wall.

  Tish moved out of the way, dodging to the side. A column came down from the ceiling.

  Crimson appeared at her feet, whistling up at her.

  "I know, I get it. Work is done and now I shouldn't be in here." Tish wasn't sure how she felt about that. She'd been needed, and now she was going to get kicked out?

  Then she chided herself. No time for thinking. Time to do, and that meant time to leave.

  With the bulkhead sealing the way they'd come, she quickly headed in the opposite direction. Behind her parts of all surfaces shifted and moved. Cabling and pipes came alive, moving as if alive in and out of all surfaces. Breaking away from their moorings to make new connections, to weave in and out with other cables and pipes.

  The bots moved in concert with the movements, seemingly unconcerned. As if they were performing an intricate dance with the station itself.

  With her feet freed from the heavy spacesuit boots, her legs felt light. She used it to her advantage, breaking out into a jog. She needed to move out of the area. Not only because of the station wanting her to leave, but because it was no longer safe for her. The station now had a job to do and her remaining in the area would prevent it.

  Crimson lit the way with a bright light on the top of her shell, moving barely far enough in front of her to stay
out of the way. The corridor became so narrow she had to hop sideways to get through it. The ceiling dropped, forcing her to duck her head.

  Then she was in a wider corridor. With it she could move faster. Crimson whistled encouragingly as she rounded a bend and the main overhead lights came on.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw a dark shape move across a large corridor. Her mind classified it as a warbot even as the corridor lit up. She continued running, hearing a loud bang. The corridor glowed red from behind her as loud clangs echoed through.

  Crimson clicked happily to herself, completely unconcerned.

  Tish let herself quickly glance back as they turned towards the outer hull. The scattered remains of a large warbot littered the floor of the corridor with bots of many sizes already working to clean it up.

  Or, more likely, to use the parts to repair the damage done by the things.

  Good. Arthur must have been successful with the power relay. That combined with the fast repairs going on in the computer processing hub meant this part of the station was coming back to life, including the defense systems. Any warbot inside would soon find itself short-lived.

  Crimson stopped in front of an airlock door, reaching forward with an arm. It slid open and Tish didn't hesitate a moment to slip inside. Crimson followed her, closing the door behind them.

  She leaned up against a wall, concentrating on getting her breath back again. The surfaces beneath her feet and against her back vibrated. She pushed herself away to look through the small window back into the station. She saw a wall shift and the floor rise up.

  She backed away. If she'd been in the corridors much longer, she would have been squished.

  With a laugh she realized the movie had been correct in on thing. The walls really did move by themselves sometimes.

  She moved to the other side to look out the window of the airlock door. The fire-fight continued, but with a difference. The surface of the station had shifted, and with it weapon fire sprouted from Redpoint One. A pirate ship on a low-level strafing run burst into a cloud of debris and short-lived fire and sparks.

  "Tish, status!" Arthur's voice demanded from somewhere near her left arm.