Chapter 3
835 Words
3
“Well, Eddie, I’d say we have a little problema,” Grayson said.
Their corsair was dead in the middle of space. If the generator hadn't been working, they would have been weightless.
Outside, a tow ship shaped like a barge appeared in the distance. It had large silver claws, and they extended toward the corsair.
Grayson was happy to see it, but thinking about the bill they were going to pay didn’t make him very happy at all.
Eddie whistled.
“Yeah, I’d say we’re in a little trouble,” he said. “But at least we’re alive. Good thing they got here when they did. The engine’s starting to smoke.”
Grayson fanned away a thin veil of smoke.
Whenever you smelled smoke in space, you were either about to die or you were about to die. He didn’t feel like dying today.
“What do you say I surprise these fellows?” Grayson asked.
“What do you have in mind?” Eddie asked.
Grayson grinned.
He hailed the ship.
“Buenos dias,” he said. “Me llamo es Grayson y mi amigo and I ran into a little trouble. Gracias a God that you’re here.”
Eddie cringed.
“Okay,” he said. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“What?” Grayson asked. “I was just trying to speak both languages.”
“Pretty much everything you said was wrong,” Eddie said, smacking his head. “You’re regressing.”
“Guess that didn’t sound as good as I wanted it to.”
The radio beeped and the skipper of the tow ship responded in Spanish.
“Que bueno que hablas español. Estamos aquí para recoger tu avión. Córtale la fuerza para que conectemos los airloques.”
Grayson scratched his head. “Did you pick up any of that?”
Eddie laughed.
He responded in Spanish, and then spoke in English.
“Pardon my buddy here,” he said. “Power’s off. Connect the airlocks, and we’ll see you in a minute.”
The ship shook as the claws connected to one of the corsair’s tow hooks.
They unclicked their seatbelts and walked out of the cockpit, through the salon, and into the airlock.
“All right, Cristobal,” Grayson said, patting Eddie on the back. “Remember the discretion.”
“Got it, Xander.”
The ship shook again as the second claw connected to the corsair’s second tow hook.
“Any word from Devika?” Eddie asked.
“Negative,” Grayson said. “She’s not responding to my texts. Something must be going on at Gargantua. Imagine she’ll call when she can. In the meantime, I’d say we’re gonna be twiddling our thumbs for a little bit.”
The ship shook again as the tow ship’s airlock connected with the corsair’s. A loud sucking sound filled the room as the two ships formed a seal. Then an intercom beeped and the bay doors opened into the interior of the tow ship.
Grayson and Eddie walked into the tow airlock—it was worn, like it had seen a lot of ships and passengers. The floors were scuffed and one of the overhead lights flickered.
They stopped in the airlock and waited for a moment before a pair of footsteps drew their eyes to the front of the room.
A Latino man in a baseball cap appeared and waved to them.
“Thanks for picking us up,” Grayson said.
“No problem,” the man said. “The planet Macalestern’s nearby. We’ll drop you off at a shop there. Name’s Raul.”
“Sounds good,” Grayson said. “Thanks, Raul.”
“We got coffee and a waiting area for you,” he said. “You caught us in the middle of a trip though, so we might not have a whole lot of coffee left.”
“I don’t need the caffeine anyway,” Grayson said. “But my buddy Cris here wouldn’t mind a cup, would you, Cris?”
Eddie nodded to the man.
They followed him through the dark hallway toward a canteen at the end of the path.
“You guys oughta be home,” Raul said. “All the weird stuff happenin’ lately, we’ve been telling people to avoid space travel. The way things are, you might not come back.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Grayson said.
“You guys traveling?” Raul asked.
“You could say that,” Grayson said. “But our journey’s over.”
“Your ship’s got some fire damage,” Raul said. “Get into a fight?”
“Ran into some pirates,” Grayson said.
“There are a lot of Arguses in these parts,” Raul said.
Grayson groaned. “The last thing I need right now is a couple of pigs on my hands.”
They entered the canteen. There was a single table, with a television mounted in the corner of the ceiling.
They watched a news report of the aftermath at Gargantua.
“It’s a shame,” Raul said, taking off his cap. “What’s our galaxy coming to?”
Grayson and Eddie said nothing.
The ship shook and an alarm sounded. Lights in the ceiling flashed.
“What’s going on?” Grayson asked.
Raul ran out of the canteen and Eddie and Grayson followed him up a stairwell to the bridge, where a Latina woman was navigating the ship. She wore a baseball cap, too.
“We’ve got invaders,” the woman said.
“Load the weapons, Marisol,” Raul said.
Outside, something shadowed the windshield of the bridge.
Grayson whistled.
“Oh boy,” he said.
A fleet of triangular ships cruised through space. There were dozens of them, gray and glistening in the darkness.
The ship’s radio exploded with crackling sounds, squeals, and grunting.
“Pa-bok bok ong-pa gwa pa!”
Grayson cursed under his breath.
The ships passed over the tow ship in V formation and left it alone. But the squealing continued.
“Bok! Bok! Bok!”
“That’s a lot of pork chops,” Raul said.
“Are they launching an attack?” Eddie asked. “That’s some great timing—kick us while we’re down, scrambling, and missing a couple of planets.”
“They’ve probably been watching and waiting,” Grayson said.
“They're headed to Macalestern,” Marisol said.
He rested his head against the windshield. He thumped it against the glass.
And then he thumped it again.
And again.
And again.
- Writer
