The First Nova I See Tonight by Jason Kilgore (the false prince .txt) 📕

"It'll be a while. For one thing, unless you want to fly through that dust tail again, it'll be just under three hours until this side of the comet nucleus rotates out of it."

He detached the cable as he continued, "The other problem is that the last explosion damaged the prow gun and forward sensor array, thanks to your… stellar… marksmanship."

"Hey, you're lucky I got it at all! Maybe you should have flown us around it."

"Mmm. And we would have landed on the comet instead of in it. Anyhow, we'll be flying blind and unarmed until we get those sensors fixed. Assuming we can get a repair team right away, I figure it'll take at least three hours to repair, if they have the parts. We also need to get an engineer to change the voice commands to Terran so we can both fly this rig, and I need repairs to my leg."

"Leave the repair team and engineers to me," Eow said. "Consider it a favor."

She winked at Dirken then opened the canopy with a push of a button. A rush of chilly, fresh air replaced the stale, sweaty atmosphere of the cockpit. The noise of the hangar quickly overcame their senses, with the powerful roar of engines, the clanking of machinery, workers calling out to each other, and echoes of all of these sounds reverberating around them. There was a constant, random sprinkling of melting comet ice falling all around them.

With the noise also came the smells. Mixed in the frosty atmosphere was the ozone of ionized air from the various engines, the odor of engine grease, and an underlying musty, spicy scent that can only come from a diverse mix of interstellar species in an enclosed space — a not unpleasant aroma that seasoned spacers called "space tang" — common on stations and starships with an interspecies crew and passengers. Quite a few spacers even preferred space tang over that of fresh planetary air.

A ramp had already been pushed up to the fighter. "I need a drink," Eow said, picking up her pulse rifle. "You coming, space jockey?"

Dirken smiled and adjusted his gun belt. "After all we've been through in the last few hours, I could use one too."

"Oh no you don't," Yiorgos said. "You need to stay with the ship. I know how this will go. You're going to get wrapped up gambling away our meager money in some game of chemisi or goron'oc, or wind up drunk in a bar and slipping away with some…" He narrowed his eyes at Eow. "…floozy. We still have a job to do, remember?"

Eow narrowed her eyes back at him, whiskers twitching. "What is a 'floozy?'"

"Nevermind," Dirken said, urging her toward the ramp, then looked over to Yiorgos. "Don't be such a grandmother, Yiorgos."

The cyborg pointed a metallic finger at him. "Heh! You've obviously never met my grandmother. My yia-yia would slap you silly for back-talk, push you into that seat, and make you sit still for the entire time we're waiting here. You don't mess with old Greek women!"

"Okay, okay," he raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'll be back in a jiffy. I need to get some power packs for my blaster. Besides, I'm damned hungry. You stay here, guard the Heart, and keep an eye on that repair crew. It's the mafia, after all. I'll relieve you soon."

Yiorgos waved him off.

Eow had jumped out and stepped quickly down the ramp, her tail swishing for balance. At the bottom stood a Morlani dockmaster in white robes with a tablet in his hands. His small eyes followed her as she approached, and he reached up to stroke one of the thin, fleshy "mustaches" that drooped from either side of his thin mouth. The overlarge, bald head and pasty gray skin always reminded Dirken of the ancient alien sightings that Terrans used to have in the days before they discovered they weren't alone in the galaxy. Chances are it was this species ancient Terrans had called the "Grays" since the Morlani were known as administrators and scientists and had been studying Terran societies. They were also slavers of Oranchians like Grendel.

Eow approached the dockmaster and started talking to him. At least, Dirken assumed the Morlani was a male. There was no way to tell unless they took off their clothes since there were no other indications of gender in that species. They even sounded the same.

By the time Dirken got down the ramp Eow had already finished speaking with the dockmaster. The Morlani gave Dirken the same expressionless look that all Morlani had at all times and then turned to walk toward a hangar office. They'd be great at poker, he thought, if they liked games at all.

"It is all settled," Eow said. "The repair team and engineer will arrive soon."

"Great. Lead the way to that drink."

They walked through the cavernous hangar and between the various spacecraft until they entered a tunnel at the far end, hewn from the porous rock and ice of the comet's nucleus. The crisp air left goosebumps on his arms. "As cold as a witch's tit," he muttered, seeing his breath. "Apt name for this place."

All at once the floor shook and a low rumble joined the noise of the hangar. Dirken stopped and crouched, not sure what was the matter, but nothing seemed amiss. Others in the hangar seemed to notice and then brush it off. The trembler lasted only a moment.

Eow watched him with a bemused smile. "Just a comet quake."

Dirken stood. "That doesn't sound like a good thing. Are we in danger?"

She shrugged it off. "Yes, but these mini-quakes are normal. When the heat of the distant star hits the surface, sometimes it sets off little quakes. You get used to them. When you have been here long enough, you can even start to expect them as this part of the comet rotates toward the star."

Dirken chuckled nervously and continued onward. Comets weren't known for being all that stable. Though this one