The Reaper Diaries: Supernova, Part 2
04 Jan 2016Michael Wolfe
“You gonna be ok?”Nova looked up at me, the lights from her suit illuminating her face. She was still pale, sweaty, and looked like she wasn’t done vomiting. The inside of her spacewalk suit was, well- it needed cleaning. Though Nova was holding it together as best she could, it was clear that she was miserable.
“Yeah. I think I’m good now.”
Turns out, when you hop into a pitch-black derelict ship, you often run into some of the old crew. If you’re lucky, you'll see a body from a distance and just float around it. If you're very lucky, the ship is abandoned and it's just you and the loot.
But if you’re Nova, you find yourself face-to-corpsified face with one right after hopping into the cargo bay and flipping on your light. Really grody one, too.
I suppose I should be happy that the scream didn’t overload the comms.
While Nova recomposed herself in a corner, I gave the old boy an ally-oop out of the cargo bay. The poor bastard looked like he had managed to get into an atmo suit, but then bought his farm when something shattered his helmet glass. Bad way to go.
By now, Nova was breathing a little more normally, and was standing like normal, nervously looking around with her helmet lights for anything else in the cargo bay that might have had a pulse once.
“Will they all be like that?”
Gotta find a way to get these other cargo containers loose. “Not a chance.”
The relief in her voice was coming through the comms. “Thank God.”
I shook my head as I ripped open a terminal and tried to restore auxiliary power. “Don’t be thanking any deities just yet.” Maybe I can reroute from damage control?
“What do you mean?”
I shook my head. Nope. Dedicated power source. Looks like we’re using cutters.
“I mean that there’s a whole catalogue of ways to die in a spaceship, and these guys probably ordered from every page.”
Next to me, Nova groaned. “So- more bodies? Dead from lots of different things?”
“You can count on it.”
I heard a sigh through gritted teeth. “Outstanding.”
“You remember to pack your plasma torch?”
“Yeah.” Nova patted the holster strapped to her thigh.
I gestured to the cargo racks. “Better start cutting the containers free. I don’t know if I’ll be able to restore power.”
Her jaw dropped as she shone her light around the bay. “There must be hundreds in here!”
“Yep. It’s an Anaconda.”
She turned back to me. “How the hell do you have the patience to cut hundreds of containers loose?”
“I don’t. But I do have the patience to watch you do it while I work on the release controls.”
All I could hear was a sigh, and Nova muttering to herself. Her plasma torch began to illuminate her face in short, bright bursts. “Just think of the two-mil… just think of the two mil.”
“Ok… I’ve got it!”
Nova looked up, gently sending another loose cargo container out the ruptured hatch for the cargo limpet to take back to my Asp.
“You’ve got what?”
I walked over to a cargo arm, activated the manual controls, and watched the arm release the container. Nova’s eyes followed the container as it slowly started to drift away from the arm. I looked at her and gestured around the bay.
“Power to the securing arms. You got your ship pulled up?”
She looked down and patted her wrist computer. “Sure do!”
I looked up at the cargo container, watching the faithful little cargo drone zip up, grab it, and take it back to my ship.
“I think that my Asp is just about full. You’ll need to open your bay doors and get a drone ready.”
“Ok!”
As she was manipulating her controls, Nova looked up, apprehension in her eyes. “So, what's next after we clean out the cargo bay?”
I heaved another container out the bay doors. Go ahead and fight over who gets it, I thought at the two ship’s drones.
“We still have to download the ship’s log, remove the data core, gift-wrap it, and deliver the whole shebang to Lysenko corporate HQ.”
Just a tinge of dread made it through in Nova’s question. “And… to get to the data core, we have to, uh-“
I turned to her, releasing another container. “Go to the master computer housing by the reactor and dismantle it? Yep.”
“And that means…?”
I chuckled. “Running into more company?”
“Yeah.”
“Sometimes it helps if you give them cartoony names.”
Nova didn’t reply, just groaned. “Let’s get this over with.”
“There it is. Help me with this, will you?”
The controls were dead, so we had to go to work on the bridge access with the plasma torches. To get to the computer core, we had had to make our way through quite a lot of the ship. As expected, there had been a several more stiffs floating around, some intact- and others missing half their bodies. The first time we saw one, Nova buried her head in my chest as it floated by. After that, she clutched my hand nervously. For the last one, though, she managed to hold it together and walk by it without either averting her eyes or needing any hand-holding, although I could still hear her breathing coming in and out in long, ragged breaths over the comms when it came into view.
She’s coming right along, I thought.
If I could restore power to the captain’s terminal, I could download the ship’s logs no problem. The special disk that the company rep had given me came with automatic overrides, so there wouldn’t be any hacking guesswork. Just pop it in, whistle to myself as it downloaded, and pocket the thing once it was done.
The data core, however… I shook my head. You have to know what you’re doing to access those. That means having both the tools and the patience to remove a ton of little parts to get to the cheddar.
I looked at Nova, a look on concentration on her face as we cut a hole in the bridge doors.
Sounds like another Nova job, I thought.
Eventually, a person-sized hole was cut, and I motioned Nova to stand aside.
“Watch this.”
In one motion, I raised a leg and kicked as hard as I could to bust the door open.
Ow.
Not only was the door still standing, but it really, really hurts when you kick something that’s tougher than you. My boot remained attached to the door, magnetic bottoms holding it into place.
Son of a bitch. How the hell did I forget to de-activate the mag?
Nova’s eyes shot up as a smirk crept across her face. “Watch what?”
I shut down the magnets on my right boot and set my foot down. My entire leg was aching.
In one more swift motion, I kicked the door again. This time, the melted outline gave way, and the door flew away with a satisfying spin. Inside, the bridge was mainly dark, with a few emergency lights providing a rough outline to its dimensions.
I turned to Nova. “Shut up.”
Well, at least this is going smoothly, I thought.
I was able to divert power to get the captain’s terminal back up. Once the disk was in the slot, it went to work downloading the data on its own. Nova was walking around the bridge, shining her light on all the systems and running her gloved hands on the bridge railing.
“This is some ship.” I could see the envy in her eyes.
“Too big for my taste, but suit yourself.”
Nova stood over the captain’s chair. Strangely, he wasn’t in it. In fact, there wasn’t a body on the entire bridge, which struck me as odd. Had they tried to abandon ship? If so, why are there still people on board?
“Yeah, but flying one of these“- she traced her hand along the chair, powered down and lifeless- “You could do anything!”
I shrugged. “Not really. Try smuggling some goods in or out of one of them dinky little outposts.”
She turned, an eyebrow raised. “And just what would the squeaky-clean Commander Lehman know about smuggling?”
I chuckled. “Just enough to tell you that the straight and narrow won’t lead to a ship like this anytime soon.”
Ahead of me, the disk finished downloading the ship’s logs. Good. I looked back at Nova.
“How are you with a screwdriver?”
She shrugged. “I’ve made plenty of ‘em. Orange juice, vodka, and a wink for the lonely man who ordered it.”
Pocketing the disk, I turned to her. “So, waitress and bartender, huh? How did that treat you?”
Nova smiled. “More money in bartending, less drunken creeps in waitressing.”
“And piloting?”
Her eyes lit up. “Way more money than either, that’s for damn sure!”- her smile turned mischievous- “-but I ain’t decided on the creepo factor yet!”
I gestured outside the bridge. “Well, let’s hope that you know a drink called the Swiftly Extracted Data Core, or else we might be here awhile.”
As I exited the bridge, I could hear Nova chuckling behind me. “Nope, nothing like that, but my second most popular creation was called the Payday!”
“That’s appropriate. And the first?”
I could the smile in her voice. “The Supernova!”
Ahead of us, the main accessway for the computer was waiting. It was shut, and we would have to cut our way in again. The way there was as dark and creepy as you’d expect, but Nova was doing better around the dead crew members. She still had an uneasy look around them, but wasn’t breathing hard like before. I looked up at her. “So, what do you think of deep-space salvaging so far?”
“Other than being on a dead ship with a bunch of dead people?”
I frowned and patted the bulkhead. “Dying, Nova. The ship is dying. Individual systems still have power, the same way individual cells are still alive for awhile after someone passes.” I sighed and looked around. “It’s just that the parts ain’t working as a whole any longer. Try to have a little respect for the old girl.”
An eyebrow rose. “Are you always this sentimental about ruined machinery? That was almost poetic.”
Do I even tell her about the first time I was stranded onboard an Anaconda with Kyndi?
I looked into her amused eyes, awaiting my answer.
Nope. I sure don’t.
“I guess we’ve all got our soft spots. You live out of a ship long enough, they start to feel more like a person than most people you meet. Like they’re a living thing, and bartenders and gear merchants are just fleshy interfaces to get what you want.”
Nova just shook her head. “Well, that’s about the loneliest-sounding thing I’ve ever heard. How about hands away from any of my fleshy interfaces, ok?”
I chuckled. “Just give it a few years, darlin’. You’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“This is not the kind of screwdriver I’m used to!”
Nova and I were on our backs, deep into the accessway of the main computer chamber. We had been disassembling our way toward the ship’s data core, and though the task was relatively straightforward, working with handheld tools while wearing thick gloves didn’t help anything along.
“I know what you mean, darlin’. I’ve made a career out of taking apart ships, just with a set of pulse lasers.”
Beside me, Nova eyes me curiously. “Isn’t that a little violent for a professional salvager?”
I shrugged under my suit as I removed another component in the way. “Sure, if I was one. Salvaging ain't my full time gig. I’ll do it if the credits are right, but my bread and butter is mainly bounty vouchers.”
For a long time, Nova was silent. Then she spoke, in a quiet voice. “Mine, too.”
I chuckled for a moment and turned to her. Her red, slightly backlit prosthetic eye seemed brighter than normal. “Never figured you for a reaper.”
“No one ever looks at me and does. It’s good money, and I like leaving a place a little cleaner than I found it.” Smirking a little, she added: “But I'm glad you finally admitted it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I did a little digging on you before we met, you know.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Did you, now?”
A shrewd look crossed Nova’s face. “Of course. You’re rated at Dangerous, which means that you’re either the most violent salvage guy in the ‘verse, or you’re just taking a break from the grind to score some credits.”
I smirked and returned to loosening the master access plate. It should be right behind here….
“And you took the job anyway?”
She smiled. “Of course I did. How many seven-figure jobs do you see floating around? Besides,”- she poked me in the side- “I’m totally safe around you, right?”
I smiled back. “What do you think?”
A playful look crossed her eyes. “So far, so good. But a girl still wonders.”
“Wonders what?”
Her grin grew even larger. “If she’s safe because the man next to her is a gentleman, or if it's because he’s the kind of man who ain’t after women anyway.”
If you only knew, darlin'. “You have got to be kidding me!”
She laughed. “Well, a Pilot’s Fed profile doesn’t say everything, right?”
Again, I shook my head. “Do you always have this conversation a day after meeting someone?”
“Only when I feel safe.”
There it is. Finally. I pulled the long, thin black box from its housing and gave it to Nova.
“Well, now you get to feel useful. Put it someplace safe when you get back to your ship.”
She held it up and frowned. “All that effort for this?”
I nodded towards the data core. “That’s the central hub of every system on the ship. Everything that has ever happened is stored there. Quantum memory doesn’t take much room, but without it, you ain’t getting off the ground.”
She looked at it again. “And you want me to carry it?”
I shrugged. “You'll be fine. Just don’t play catch with it.”
Nova shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the tip, boss.”
We were both back in our ships, changed out of our bulky spacewalking suits and back into our regular flight gear. We delayed a little, since Nova had wanted to take a quick shower to wash away the terror-inspired vomit from her neck and chest after coming face to face with that first corpse. Normally, I like to get the hell out of a job site as quickly as possible, but I figured that an extra twenty minutes to have a happy partner wouldn’t hurt anything. Besides, I wanted a cup of coffee anyway.Her face came over the display, a contented look upon it.
“Much better!”
Her hair was still a little wet, but she was back to wearing a simple black flightsuit. I held up my thermos of coffee.
“Makes all the difference in the world not being covered in vomit, huh?”
She smiled with a hint of bashfulness. “Yeah. Yeah it does. I’m just glad that I’m around the living again.”
I smiled back and took a sip of coffee. “You did real good in there, Nova. Now we just have to head for Lysenko HQ, transfer the cargo and figure out what to do with all that money.”
A covetous gleam crossed Nova’s face. “Oh, I’ve got a few upgrades for the Bluebird that I’ve been looking at!”
“Let’s just get there first. I already sent the all-clear while you were cleaning up. I’m waiting on confirmation and our landing permits.”
My ship’s comm beeped with a message from my Lysenko contact. I looked up at Nova. “And there it is. Love it when the client is right on time!”
<Incoming transmission>
<From: Giles Ramsey>
<Greetings, Commander.
Thank you for retrieving the salvage in a timely manner. I’m afraid that there has been a slight change of plan. Rather than docking at corporate headquarters, it has been decided that a deep-space transfer will more effectively fulfill our wish for discretion. Please rendezvous with our vessels at the coordinates provided. They will complete the delivery of the cargo and award you your compensation.
- Giles Ramsey, Special Affairs Representative>
Below, the deep-space coordinates showed up in the navigation charts. I looked up and took a deep breath. Son of a Bitch.
Nova must have noticed the frustration on my face. “Something wrong?”
I look up at her on the holo-screen. “Not necessarily. Just the client changed the drop-off point on us.”
A confused look crossed Nova’s face. “And that’s… bad? Good?”
I shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “Well, it ain’t normal, that’s for sure. They want us to meet with their people in deep space and do the transfer there. Attracts less attention or something.”
“So… we’re going, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, we’re going.”
“Think it might be a trap?”
I wish could say, darlin’. “Unlikely. Big corporations tend to solve problems by throwing money at them, not bloody backstabbing their contractors. Besides, Pilot’s Fed tends to get really grouchy about organizations that throw their people under the bus.”
She nodded, still not totally convinced. “Still…”
“Yeah. It ain’t sitting right with me, either. Let’s keep some pips on shields.”
Well, at least they’re punctual.
Giles showed up less than ten minutes after we did, in a lone T-9 that looked like it had seen better days. Not that I’m overly judgmental about another man’s ship, but it seemed like a high-up company rep like Giles ought to be flying something nicer than a banged-up T-9 with no escorts. Oh well. As long as he comes through with the credits. Almost immediately, he hailed us on the comm.
“Good… whatever it is out here, Commanders. I trust you have the merchandise?”
I held up the disk he had given me to use. “Everything in the cargo bay, plus the data core, plus the ship’s logs.”
A look of relief crossed the man’s face, and his hard features relaxed somewhat. “Excellent. You have no idea what this to m- Lysenko. You will be compensated as soon as the cargo is transferred.”
Shrugging, I began to release my cargo hold. “It’s all yours, Ramsey. Hope you’ve got a cargo limpet.”
It turns out he only had one limpet, so it was slow going. He kept his visual comms open, and as the cargo containers were loaded onto his T-9, an increasingly nervous looks was spreading across his face.
“Something wrong, Giles?”
His head snapped up, a fake corporate smile immediately replacing his look of concern. “Nothing at all, Commander. I’m just not one for this sort of work.”
I felt my eyes involuntarily narrow. “Flying a T-9 ain’t no mean trick. That’s a lot of stick time for a guy who doesn’t like to fly.”
A trace of a smile began to creep across his face. “Not all of us corporate types have ever only driven a desk. And it isn’t the flying, commander, it’s the assignment.”
“Yeah?”
“Indeed. And for five million credits, you’ll understand if I decline to speak of it further.”
I chuckled. “Suit yourself, junior.”
My cargo bay was soon emptied, and Nova began ejecting cargo containers from her own hold. As Gile’s limpet drone began ferrying them back to his T-9, my scanners began to register signals on the very edge of its range. More and more raw signal began to show up, though nothing was solid.
What the hell….?
I pulled up Nova on my wrist comm and typed a discreet message.
<Getting sig. Eyes open>
Her response was almost immediate.
<I see it too. Pips on shields>
I looked over at my contacts screen, and there still wasn’t anything. Nothing, yet signal was starting to surround us like mad.
I don’t like this.
Looking around my canopy, I couldn’t see anything- no moving specks in the distance, nothing except Giles’s T-9 in front of me, and Nova’s dark blue Asp on my right.
I looked up in time to see the massive volley of missiles slam into Giles’s ship, breaking through its shields and tearing its canopy open. Even as he was crushed by the impact, Nova screamed over the line at the same time.
“Matt!”
I had just reflexively hit full throttle on instinct when a second volley slammed into my Asp, almost totally wipng out my shields. Ahead of me, I saw two Eagles swoop down, firing lasers into the shattered T-9, slowly cutting the massive ship apart.
Even as I was pulling evasive maneuvers, the extent of the ambush became clear, as Eagle after Eagle began to register on my contacts list. None of them were showing active shields, and all were almost off the scale with their heat release.
They were goddamn stealthing this entire time.
After I counted six, I knew that fighting wasn’t an option.
“Hit the boost and get the hell out of here, Nova! There’s too many of them!”
What the hell is going on?
By instinct, I deployed weps and fired at an Eagle that was flying by. Some of its hull was blasted off, but just as I lined up for a finishing shot, it vanished from my scope. It had closed its heat vents.
Six Eagles against two Asps, faster, more agile, and not giving off signal if you try to get a lock?
I shook my head, retracted the weapons pods, and diverted power to shields and engines.
If you were in the Hand of Blue, you’d have these guys for goddamn lunch. But you ain’t.
Now that their piranha tactics had paid off against Giles, they were now focusing on us. Nova had gotten a head start, and I was boosting hard to get the hell out of range. We were both still nav-linked, and between the leftover mass of the T-9 and the fact that calculating a jump for two ships takes longer anyway, the supercruise was charging up at an agonizingly slow rate. And there was no way to outrun a flight of Eagles in an Asp.
Despite the power pumped into them, despite my best jinking maneuvers, my shields gave out before the calculations were even a quarter of the way completed. All around me, I heard the tearing and grinding noises of cannon rounds shredding my Asp’s hull.
God-fucking damnit.
I hit the boost again, trying my best to avoid cannon fire, but it wasn’t any goddamn use. There were three of them chasing both of us, and my very first days of bounty hunting came back to me in a flash.
Remember how easy those big ships seemed when you were flying The Green Salsa Avenger? Remember shaking your head in wonder at how anyone could prefer a lumbering all-purpose vessel to a speedy little fighter?
I looked at the damage readout and steadied myself against the violent impacts from the hits my ship was taking.
Well, now you’re on the other end of that deal.
I looked down at my left hand, pushing the throttle all the way forward, and then at my right, gripping the ship’s joystick, the black synthetic material reflecting red and orange from the emergency alarms. Ahead of me, a crack in my canopy was growing, as cannon rounds impacted against it in rapid staccato arcs.
There’s only one way this can end.
I hit the emergency harness release and ran for the emergency escape pod. If I was lucky, they would scoop me up and I’d be able to talk or buy my way out of whatever situation I found myself in. If not, well-
You knew this day might come from the moment you signed up for Pilot’s Fed training.
The emergency door snapped shut, and the restraints coiled themselves around me like angry mechanical tentacles.
Outside the viewport, I saw the ship’s emergency alarms flashing, the gassy look of escaping atmo, and felt the rocking feeling of the ship getting pummeled. I looked around.
Goodbye, Asp. Sorry I never got around to giving you a name.
I punched the eject button, and
WHAM!
I felt like I was being shot out of a cannon. Even in the vacuum of space, the artificial G-forces were tremendous.
With effort, I looked up and out of the viewport glass. I could see my Asp quickly shrinking as I shot away, silent explosions engulfing it. Finally, there was one large fireball, almost immediately snuffed out by the vacuum, and then-
Nothing. I could barely make out the debris of what was my largest ship not five minutes prior.
I looked back down. If I wasn’t rescued soon, emergency stasis would take over, and it would be lights out. Of course, depending on these guys’ orders, it might be lights out anyway.
Where was Nova?
I hadn’t heard anything from her. Maybe she made it. Maybe they got her, too.
WHAM!!!
My pod recoiled from the impact of…something. Ship collision? Cannon round? Once again, a spinning feeling took over and damage alarms started to sound. I was losing hull integrity fast, and the automatic stasis systems kicked on. I felt the jabbing of needles into my wrists, and the fiery effects of the drugs hitting my system. Almost immediately, it became difficult to breathe, and I felt my body shutting down. So this is what it’s like.
As my vision began to fade, I began to hallucinate memories from my past.
My bearded father, wearing a cardigan sweater and smiling down at little five-year-old me as I played with a toy spaceship.
My mother, telling me how proud she was of me the day I graduated Pilot’s Fed academy.
Kyndi, and the look in her eyes as we made love after that tumultuous first job together.
I squeezed my eyes shut as the stasis drugs pulled my consciousness away. Something again impacted my escape pod, and I drowsily and detachedly noted the escaping atmo as the Remlock snapped shut around my face.
So long, folks. It’s been a hell of a run.
