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

Dirken peeked through the grating. Below, two shuttles painted with crimson streaks sat side-by-side in a large hangar with a hunter droid stationed next to them, its eyes scanning across the chamber. As he watched, the shuttlecraft hatches slid open and a party of rough-looking pirates of different species exited, their bodies covered with a mishmash of black leather, bits of armor, and swatches of blood-red clothes, bandannas, and face paint.

"The Bloodhawk's crew," Dirken whispered. He looked at Yiorgos. "Come on. I've got a plan." He climbed down the ladder, followed by his partner. They worked together to manhandle the safebox down the ladder, careful not to bang it against the walls.

"What's the plan, Dirk?" Yiorgos activated his plasma saber again once they got to the bottom.

Dirken unholstered his blaster and checked the charge. Enough for about a dozen shots.

"That droid's, um, what did you call it? Control frequency? Can you jam it?"

Yiorgos blinked in surprise. "If I jam it, I won't be able to protect us!"

Dirken opened the access hatch a crack and looked out at the boarding party. There were maybe twenty pirates making their way toward the hangar entrance. "Yeah, but it won't protect them, either!"

"Ah!" He tilted his head, blinked as he accessed some internal computer, then said, "Okay, here goes."

The hunter droid next to the shuttles suddenly stood, turned its head, and fired its laser toward the boarding party. The pirates yelled in confusion and screamed in pain. A hail of plasma fire. The droid skittered and whirled toward them.

"Yes!" Dirken shouted. "Come on!"

They bolted through the access panel and ran toward the closest shuttlecraft. At least one of the pirates, a Pleiadean with a mass of twisted horns surrounding his angular head, shouted and pointed at Dirken and Yiorgos, but none of the other pirates reacted. They were too busy defending themselves against the droid. As Dirken entered the shuttlecraft he saw the droid rip into the pirates, the floor plating beneath them quickly turning shades of red and blue and purple from their flowing blood as they scattered and fired wildly.

Yiorgos closed the access hatch as Dirken set the safebox down and started the thruster engines. Still warm, they roared into action and the ship hovered.

The cyborg took a seat in the navigator's chair as Dirken fired the prow laser at the other shuttlecraft, slicing through the shuttlecraft's windshield and control panels at nearly point-blank range and rendering the ship useless. He then turned further, facing the hangar doors.

The shuttlecraft rocked as plasma bolts hit it from behind.

"Seems the droid didn't get them all," Yiorgos said.

"No worries." Dirken found the hangar door code already entered in the navchart from when the shuttlecraft entered. "How the hell did they get the hangar code for a United Worlds destroyer?" They exchanged surprised looks, but this was no time to ponder it.

Dirken pressed the code again. The doors opened, sucking out the air from the hangar. Bodies of living and dead pirates, and the debris of the broken droid, flew past the shuttlecraft's windows and out into space.

Then Dirken punched the engine and accelerated out of the hangar.

CHAPTER FIVE

SPEARTIP

No sooner had they shot out of the hangar than they were in trouble again.

"Dirk! Two more shuttles headed this way from one of the brigantines," Yiorgos said, looking at the nav chart, "along with two light attack fightercraft!"

"Crap. We're no match for fighters."

Yiorgos turned and looked at him. "We have to go back to the hangar. We can hide out in the access tunnels. Hope the UW sends reinforcements."

"What? Back there? There may still be two hunter droids stalking around in there, and more pirates are on the way!"

"It's better than getting exploded by fighters."

Dirken waved him off. "As far as they know, we're one of them!"

The comm system crackled. A gruff voice on the other end with a thick Proximan lisp asked, "Thuttle 2, why hath you letht the hangar?" Dirken heard the alien's oral membranes fluttering against its thick tongue.

Dirken and Yiorgos looked at each other and shrugged.

"Well?" Yiorgos urged. "Tell them something!"

Dirken frowned and pressed a com button. "Uh, Shuttle 2 here. All is well. Repeat, all is well. Awaiting orders."

Another voice came over the com, deeper and more authoritative. "Explain, Shuttle 2. We've lost contact with the boarding party. What is happening in there?"

Dirken mouthed wordlessly for a moment, trying to think of something, then replied, "I suspect it's just some frequency jamming inside the ship."

The two fightercraft zoomed ahead of the shuttles they were escorting and headed toward Dirken's.

"We don't register any jamming," the second voice said. "We're headed to you."

Then the first voice added, "Thet trajectory to rendezvous with the Dragonfire."

Dirken looked at the three pirate ships. One of the brigantines was on fire and rolling slowly, but still trading heavy arms fire with the Excellentia, as was the other brig. Both brigantines were wide berth starships with asymmetric hulls that bulged with cannon turrets and enhanced gravjump ribs. The corvette, on the other hand, was sleek and slim, streamlined and ready to outrun authorities. Its gravjump panels swooping around it with as much art as utility and seemed double-purposed for atmospheric flight.

The corvette had sped up and closed ranks with the Excellentia and was now bombarding the bridge. All three ships were typical of pirate craft: painted black with a scan-absorbent coating to camouflage with the color and background radiation of space and covered with tech modifications to make them faster and more deadly.

The Excellentia was rolling as well, its engines out. The entire starboard side was pockmarked with blasts. The normally silver hull was black from scoring and looked as if it had been cooked by a star.

"Which one do you think is the Dragonfire?" Dirken asked.

"I don't know. Just pick one."

Dirken shrugged and turned the shuttlecraft toward the brigantine that looked least damaged. There weren't grav plates on the shuttle, so the safebox floated off the floor and toward the