Art:Space Pirates/Nigel's Story
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Nigel's Story
Stardust
by Mogget
"Are we there yet?" he barked.
My eye twitched. He'd been doing this ever since we'd left the President Bartlet.
"Mars is 2.5 hours from Space Station Calliope at warp-4, maximum our capsule can achieve. It's still twenty minutes away."
Captain Nicholas Worthington, my commandant for the last three painful, ear-splitting, nerve-wracking years, sniffed. He stared down his nose at me imperiously, something between a sneer and a sulk upon his lips. I looked back to the navigation panel, sighing. It was something of a game between us. He tried to make my life miserable, I refused to let him.
He was sniffing the air now. I winced. "Nigel, I think the air filters have stopped working. There's a rather... pungent smell in here."
I shrunk inwardly and began a systems’ check just to humor him. He just sat there, fidgeting. We'd ported the President Bartlet at Space Station Calliope. Captain Worthington got a message from the Imperial Navy HQ to pick up a package from Mars. Apparently, we were the closest Fleet vessel in the area. We took a two-man capsule and here we were.
"30 seconds from Mars, Captain." I said, initiating the landing sequence and preparing for entry.
"Most excellent," he said, springing out of his seat. "Port at the merchant docks off the Southern Lowlands."
"Aye Cap'n" I said, setting the appropriate coordinates and contacting Ground Control. We pulled into port and locked in. As we prepared to disembark, Worthington stopped me.
"You stay here and er... guard the ship."
"Guard the ship?" I said, bewildered. The Bartlet's two person capsule, E Class Saber has v 4.0 security systems. The only way someone can get in or out is a fingerprint and retinal scan, and a 16-digit alpha-numeric code. In fact, the only complaint about the Saber has been that its security is practically foolproof, and there is a little bit of fool in all of us.
"Do as I say Nigel, unless you want to be scraping space-crustaceans off the hull till the Empire crumbles to dust. Now stay here, and GUARD the SHIP. Understood, Flight Lieutenant?" he said, his voice cold as he raised himself to his full height and glowered at me.
"Understood, Captain."
Millions of maroon melting meteoroids! He was being more of a sparkwidget than usual. I busied myself about the capsule, performing a routine inspection, making sure everything was secure and space-ready.
He returned an hour later, accompanied by a squadron of the Imperial Navy Guard – glorified thugs in uniforms. They can’t fly a ship to save their lives, but are rather good at looking menacing. They dismounted from the hovercraft carrying a black box which they handed over in silence to Captain Worthington at the ramp of the capsule. He placed it in the safety cache, and we settled back into the cockpit, and I initiated the launch sequence.
“This is Flight Lieutenant Nigel Amaxaroo of the President Bartlet’s Saber capsule to Ground Control. Requesting permission to lift off?”
“Ground Control Mars 1 receiving data. You are cleared for liftoff. Simultaneous takeoff flight-paths of the Merchant Vessel Ostreum charted to Mars’ moons Phobos and Deimos and Merchant Vessel Apathy charted to Alpha Centauri. Do you read me?”
“Roger, wilco. Commencing countdown, engines on. Ignition – check. All systems are go. 4-3-2-Liftoff…. Second stage is cut, now in orbit. Stabilizers up, running perfect. Turning thrusters on… now.”
“Capital!” said Captain Worthington, and disappeared into the back of the capsule. Curious as to the contents of our cargo, I set the capsule on auto-pilot and snuck into the hold. Worthington had snapped open the case and held in his hand what looked like a metal hourglass, with glass sides. A glowing bar at the center threw a bluish light on his face, and gleamed in his eyes. I moved closer to get a good look at it. He must have heard me, for he whipped his head around angrily. I involuntarily took a step back, then realized I had an out.
“Two hours to Calliope, Captain.” I said, my voice steady.
“Hmm? Oh, yes,” he replied, dismissively.
A moment of silence.
“What is that, sir?” I tentatively probed.
“This?” He gazed ardently at the thing in his hand. “This, my dear, sweet Nigel…” I could hear the sarcasm dripping from every syllable, “…is Stardust.”
I gasped. Stardust – the talk of the space-faring world. It was rumored to be the next wave of technology, the gateway to a new era of power generation. I remembered hearing about it in a hundred different places.
“What … why do we have it?” I asked.
“That is a very good question.” He looked gleeful. “This is the prototype. We’re supposed to deliver it to the Starship Jefferson. Going to. Deliver it.”
“The R&D craft? Wow. That’s one big mission. Shouldn’t we have brought… I don’t know, backup?”
“Nonsense! Now, why don’t you take a nap and I’ll make sure we get to Calliope.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea Cap’n. I’m going to man the radar.”
“Insubordination again, Nigel? Twice in one day? You must like hull-scraping.”
“Aye-aye Cap’n.” I sighed and wandered off to the bunks at the back of the capsule.
Sleep was impossible. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that we were carrying what was perhaps the most precious commodity in the whole known universe aboard our ship. It troubled me. I’ve always been a worry wart, and the Saber’s defense systems aren’t all that. I rolled out of the bunk an hour later, and went straight to the cockpit. Empty. Hmm. Unusual, that. Worthington was probably in the hold. I sat down in the navigator’s seat, adjusting the height automatically, and brought up our coordinates.
Holy Broderbund, where in space?! We were a hundred thousand miles, give or take, away from where we were supposed to be. We weren’t even in the same galaxy as the Calliope Space Station! From the numbers I was looking at, we were floating somewhere in Rigil Kentaurus. I flicked on the radar. Oh dear. This was not good. There was a vessel looming right behind us. I ran a check on the digital code. Merchant Vessel Apathy. Oh dear.
“Captain!” I shouted, my stubby fingers dancing around the console, recharting, trying to calculate how much fuel this inexplicable detour had lost us, trying to set us a course in blind space.
Worthington came rushing into the cockpit, carrying the black box. “You stupid midget, what have you done!!”
I flushed. The console beeped. We both turned to look. Our coordinates were changing. They were pulling us into their docking bay. I tried escaping the tractor beam, but I knew it was futile.
Fantastic, I thought. Space pirates. What could possibly go wrong? A dull “thunk” sounded and I knew we were now within the Apathy, and pressurization was ensuing outside.
“Captain, what do we do? They can’t get in if we don’t want them to so…”
I spoke too soon. My console flashed the “Access Allowed” message, and I heard the telltale whoosh of the capsule opening. How in Betelgeuse…!
Worthington walked out of the cockpit into the central zone. I stopped staring at his retreating back all slack-jawed and ran out to join him. Too late, I felt my hip-holster for my phaser. Missing. I knew exactly where it was, too. Hung above my bunk. I was about to run to retrieve it, when a sultry female voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Stay where you are, sir, unless you wish me to use this.”
I swiveled, my head rising slowly as I turned, to look upon my armed assailant. She was at least six feet tall, dressed in a spacesuit that clung to her curves, of which she had aplenty. Her brown eyes flashed at me, almost amused, and her loveliness was marred only by the fact that she held a blaster pointed at my skull. I licked my lips nervously, and darted a glance at Captain Worthington, unsure of what to do.
“Afya, my darling, feisty as ever, I see,” he said, and sauntered up to her, wrapping one arm around that narrow waist.
“Nicki, my love, late as usual,” she replied tartly, “and bringing unexpected complications, also as usual.”
They kissed passionately, but I was too busy trying to understand this … unexpected at best, turn of events, to make a run for it.
“So who is it exactly that I have the pleasure of holding at blaster point?”
“Eh, that’s Nigel,” Worthington replied, waving his hand dismissively. “Can we just kill him now and be done with it?”
I blanched.
Afya laughed. “So trigger happy, Nicki.”
Worthington rolled his eyes. “Can we get on with this please?”
“Do you have it?”
“Of course!” he scoffed, holding up the black box.
“Fragtastic!” she said, and gestured at me with the blaster. I reluctantly walked towards the entrance of the capsule past her. As I passed Worthington, I decided it was worth a shot, and reached for his side-arm. I had my hand halfway around the hilt when I felt a shooting pain in the small of my back, and then paralyzing nothingness.
The last thing I heard was Worthington say, “I can’t believe you have your blaster on stun mode.”
I blacked out.
When I came to, I was lying on the floor of what appeared to be the main deck of the Apathy. Worthington was pacing up and down, Afya sat on the Captain’s chair, and an older man stood silently to her right, his lips pursed, and his brow furrowed. I wiggled my toes. That was about all I could manage.
“Afya, this is ridiculous. Laughable!” Worthington was saying. “You’re an arms dealer, for crying out loud. What is this nonsense about developing the technology? Profit! Wealth! Wealth begets power!”
“There’s more to life than power and wealth Nick. We are all aware of the corruption in the higher echelons of the Empire. The poor are downtrodden by the Empire and its lackeys. You think you are in command, in control. But don't be fooled. The Empire holds all the power, and we all struggle beneath their boots for scraps. These atrocities must cease.
You think I don’t know what they’re going to do with Stardust? No one will get access to it but the Empire. A time of change is necessary.”
“Oh really. And what is your plan?”
“Tamar?” Afya looked up at the man standing to her right.
Tamar ran his hand through his graying hair, sighing. “Stardust. Where do I begin? Lets go back to the basic concept of matter anti-matter collision, and ionized gases. Now if you look at most hypersonic eleme-”
“Spare me the Physics-101 lecture, Dr. Flint.”
“Chemistry, but moving on,” he mumbled. “My studies on Stardust in conjunction with what we’ve managed to… purloin… from the Empire’s research projects very clearly indicate that the potential is huge. Ten times the plasma generation of Adegan-focused collision. Ten times! Imagine stable Baradium…”
“Yes, I get that, it’s what my plan is based on. The black-market trade will be supremely profitable, especially when we’re selling outside the Empire. If you can design us a Stardust fueled thermal detonator, we can retire to Patagon Minor and live like kings.”
Dr. Tamar Flint shook his head. “You’re thinking in the wrong direction. Do you realize what power generation potential I’m talking about? The implications? Forget warp drive, mate, think hyperspace.”
“Hyperspace? That’s taurusbarrel!”
“Stardust can make it possible. We’re talking about the creation of a statis field as a result of energy generated, and circumvention of actual passage through space for faster-than-light travel. I think -”
Worthington cut him off again. “I think your circuit’s dead. I did not give up my career for some burnt-out scientist’s crazy schemes.” He stopped his pacing a foot away from Flint, and stared him in the eye. Flint didn’t give an inch, a cocky smile spread across his face. “Bite me.”
Worthington scoffed exasperatedly, and turned away.
“Nicki, listen to me. Think of the possibilities! There is so much of the universe left to explore! That is all the stardust we have.”
Afya gestured towards the hourglass Worthington held. “We need to apply it in the hyperspace process, learn how to synthesize it, research and analyze it. For freedom. For equality. It’s what I’ve been working towards my whole life.”
He said nothing. The three of them were completely engrossed in their conversation. I had been so busy listening, that I was just realizing I could move again.
“What if I say no?” Worthington said, breaking the silence.
“I’m sorry Nicki, but the decision is final.”
“Oh really? I’ve got a phaser here that says otherwise.”
He smirked, pointing his weapon at them as he stashed the hourglass back in its container.
“I’m sure the Navy will be very happy with me for bringing you in. They have a surprisingly long list of your misdeeds. Now drop your weapons. You know exactly how trigger-happy I am.”
Afya stood, and removed her blaster from her hip holster and dropped it.
“The one in your boot leg too, darling.”
She bent to remove her weapon and caught my eyes, staring right at her. I saw her blink, surprised. I held her gaze and nodded. She gave me a brittle smile, and unbuckled the blaster from the inside of her boot. Rising, she tossed it artfully to one side, a foot away from me.
One shot. That’s all I had. I could hear Worthington in the background, his voice drowned out in by the roar of my heartbeat. I picked the blaster up and slipped the setting from stun-mode to kill, readying myself. Worthington was reaching the end of his monologue.
“It was nice knowing you darling…”
Now or never. In one fluid motion, I jumped to my feet, took aim, and fired. He didn’t have time to fire back, nor utter a word. Afya ran forward, kneeling by his prostrate body. For a moment I thought I’d made a mistake, switching to kill mode, then I realized she was simply checking the kill.
“I’m too old for this!” Dr. Flint growled, sinking into Afya’s chair.
Afya walked to me, as I stood there, transfixed. Nicholas Worthington. Dead. By my hand.
She knelt down in front of me, bringing her to my eye level. Those soft brown eyes looked deep into mine. “I owe you my life, Nigel. How can I repay you?”
“Give me my freedom.”
“Yours! Passage back to your people, with more credits than you could possibly spend in one lifetime.”
I smiled ruefully. “I’m not the man they think I am, at home. Could you use a navigator?”
She smiled, and her face lit up. “You’re hired. Welcome aboard the Apathy. We do care, actually. About the important things.”
A space pirate! Me! My heart soared at the possibilities.
