CHAPTER 1
“We’re hit!”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“We’re not hit. You’re hit. I’m fine.”
He was sweating as Captain Ethan Nova played off the near-death experience with his usual candor. Sweat was beading around his eyebrows like gross little puddles. The captain didn’t like sweat, especially when it was he who produced it. Sweat. If you said it slowly enough just the word itself was disgusting. He felt it drip down his face to his stubbly chin before plunging to irrelevance. Not unlike his ship - if Polly was right.
Of course, he knew she was. She would know if they were being hit - because she was the ship. His ship. The Goodnight. Her sigh caused him to smile. Only he could have that effect on a woman. Even computer generated holographic women whose only purpose was providing information as he demanded it. He wouldn’t dare to remind her of that though.
To be honest, which he rarely was - out loud at least- his relationship with Polly was his longest relationship. It was an on-again off-again love affair that kept getting interrupted by people trying to steal his ship. Or kill him. Or both. So, honestly, he continually had to let her go in order to escape. Somehow, their fate was tangled together. He kept not dying, and they kept being reunited.
“If I keep getting hit eventually you will, too.”
“Well, that doesn’t seem fair. Maybe you should try to apologize.”
“Me? Maybe you shouldn’t steal from people with faster ships!”
“Or you could speed up.”
He refused to look down knowing the hologram would be giving him that look. The same look he had received from every girl he had ever known. A raised eyebrow to the one side, head slightly tilted; and a corner of her mouth pursed as if she would refrain from speaking her mind. Of course, the look wouldn’t be complete without a challenging, yet very seductive gaze. It was the bangs hanging gently over the eyes that got him. Wispy and playful.
He peeked just long enough to confirm that Polly was staring at him with that special mix of resentment, and admiration. And as usual - he was correct. It was kind of an awkward moment, which Nova never handled well. He waited for Polly to say something pointed from the pedestal that projected her image. Nova’s foot rapped along the steely floor of the Captain’s deck. Patience was not his virtue. Polly was only about a foot tall, but she theoretically could control any mechanical aspect of the ship at any moment. This meant he had to hold her hand in public, not let arguments drag on, and always return her calls. Why did he want an intelligent ship again? In an attempt to prolong, or avoid her pointed comment altogether, Captain Ethan Nova gently reached down and twisted the pedestal so that her back would be to him.
“Really?” He smiled as she turned around. “It’s like babysitting. Except, if I were babysitting I would at least get paid.” See? Pointed comment. He was right again. Why was anyone still surprised when he was right?
The Goodnight shook again suspending their conversation. This time slightly more violently. One of the panels above his head popped out of place smacking him on the cheek on the way down. To add insult to injury it bopped him again as it swung carelessly by its harness waiting for momentum and gravity to help it rest. “I don’t think they like your attitude.”
“My att-,”She stammered as her eyes bazed. Thankfully, another round hit their hull saving Nova from the frying pan. It might be easier to deal with the assailants then an angry hologram that controls the ship hurtling through the void of space that he was currently a passenger of. Captain of. Currently, the captain of. And he would fight to the death to remain so. Another blast reminded Nova that he might be willing to fight to the death another day. He would miss Polly, but they always found each other.
The Captain gently moved the control panel from his line of sight so he could review the damage on the display in front of him. At one time, all the equipment that surrounded him was shiny and new. In fact, the whole ship was practically brand new when he first became her captain. He gently lifted the cables and panel, and then shoved the wires back in their resting place before securing the panel.
“For the record, I haven’t stolen anything, Polly.”
The miniature woman guffawed as he scanned the myriad of displays in front of him. Of course, he could just ask Polly her status. But she could also just offer him the information. He continued scanning. Everything was in working order – mostly. The problem would be the cost of repairs, as it always was.
“Recently.” The correction to the last time he had stolen wasn’t necessary because it didn’t matter. He had stolen from so many people that it could have been any number of his victims set on revenge. It could be the ship, Revenge. It could also have been a Unite the Universe vessel. Although, generally those ships had a very annoying way of announcing their presence. They might as well have theme music.
In his line of work - if you want to call traveling from place-to-place doing whatever you want, and taking whatever you want, by means of thievery, deception and cunning, work- you manage to piss off the people who make and live by the rules. But rules were made to be broken. Right? And if Captain Ethan Nova didn’t do what he did, then the people who constantly chased him would have nothing to do. He was job security. Follow? And he enjoyed what he did. To him, being confined by rules wasn’t really living at all. It was existing without purpose. Or with someone else’s purpose anyway.
“We are close enough to Zarkona to detach from the main ship and enter their atmosphere.”
“And give up, The Goodnight?” You?
“If you want to survive our options are limited.”
Nova looked out the cockpit. The space and stars beckoned him in a way nothing else did. Except maybe Polly; but he wouldn’t tell her that. Through the double-shielded laser proof diamond glass he saw Zarkona. His reflection in the glass hovered over the world omnipotently. Zarkona and her inhabitants were seemingly unaware of his presence. The spacious oceans separated only by masses of land and clouds that obstructed his view. His beard appeared gruff yet handsome against the grey land mass where humans had created their civilization. It was more stubble then beard. When he thought of a beard he thought of facial hair controlling the better part of your face and neck. His reflection proved that his face fur was more scattered patches that he missed with his razor. Or, this could be the way his facial hair grew with a few days of not shaving. Or, he both shaved a few days ago and missed some patches with his razor.
Anyway, every planet that flew the Unite the Universe flag had an even count of civilized continents to forest continents. A planet with an odd number of continents split one continent in half between forest and man. It was learned long ago, on our first planet that the balance between nature and civilization is very delicate. That is what they brainwashed the kids with these days anyway. We could unite the universe by all speaking the same language, wearing the same clothes, eating the same food, working the same jobs, and never doing anything outside the rules. If you want to live forever just be boring. But if you want to be alive – well, then you won’t live forever.
His face appeared stern - dark, in comparison to the bright, round planet with its swirling weather patterns. How did the planet look so alive while he looked inanimate?
He shook his head and focused on the forest continent before him. The forest was useful when wanting to hide from those that pursued you. Forests were unpredictable though. Many less civilized aliens hid in the forests, and other things that the universe keeps hidden. He reached forward and touched one of the thin glass screens in front of him, enabling a map of Zarkona to display. He manipulated the image of the planet to focus on the forest of Antewaren below. The forest would have valleys, grassy knolls - and at the edge of the forest - there would be beaches he could land on. Nova placed his fingers over the northeastern coast of Antewaren and spread them to enhance the image. After a few times he was zoomed in on an empty beach.
“Polly, is there enough room to land on that section of beach?”
Numbers scrolled across the screen until they settled on a few. The captain barely paid attention as he waited for Polly to confirm or deny. He was trying to figure out who their assailant might be. Under the scrolling numbers was a menu of other options. Nova selected the appropriate options and the screen split showing the sandy beach on top and the attacking vessel on bottom. He couldn’t say it was definitely a Uni ship. But the size made it hard to conclude it could be anything else. Where was the theme music? Nova was well aware that Zarkona was a main hub for those who pledged their allegiance to Unite the Universe cause. But visiting the planet was a necessary risk. And Antewaren was generally considered to be safe from vile, ruthless aliens. Then there were his connections in Zarkona that could help him identify his enemies so he could plan a counter attack.
The volleys from the mystery ship decreased as The Goodnight entered the atmosphere of the planet. Either the assailant didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention or they didn’t want to risk human lives below.
“Confirmed. We can land there. Programming coordinates and preparing to detach cockpit for atmospheric travel. As per protocol, should I hail the Space Traffic Control Office to inform them of our imminent arrival?”
“Must you always ask that?”
“Protocol.”
What would we say to them? Hey guys, this is Captain Ethan Nova. What’s that? Yes, that’s the one! That many crimes, no kidding. I’m on my way to the planet below. I hope you don’t mind that I am evading arrest for all those crimes you have listed up. Life in prison doesn’t suit me.
“I don’t think we would have much to talk about.” The people who came up with these guidelines must not travel further then their commute. Or they must think everybody is either a Boy Scout, or a criminal. Who hasn’t transported some souvenir from a vacation spot in their jump drive cabling? The items are mostly knock-offs, but who wants to pay the prices on working class worlds for the real thing? And if you don’t smuggle it in, they charge a percentage for each planet you pass. Really? Each planet? Sorry mates, I was traveling faster than light - didn’t see any planets. That means no tax, right?
A few moments passed. The assailant maneuvered for a favorable angle that would shortly allow them to fire without risk to the planet below. The captain studied the ship on the glass screen. As the canons fired the phosphorous light reflected off the crafts black glossy finish. By the arrangement of the guns and the ships shadow Nova guessed that the vessel was an enforcement vessel for the Unite the Universe cause. Enforcement vessels generally had a few dozen trained officers on board in addition to the crew. The captain of the mysterious vessel made no attempt to contact him, and was also apparently not in rush to blow him to bits.
“That means they want the ship. Or me. Or both alive.” He murmured. Polly cleared her throat, indicating she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to hear that. It was a gentle reminder that he wasn’t alone.
More cannon fire, more vibrations, the panel popped out again. “Why are we not detaching?” Captain Ethan Nova was beginning to lose his calm demeanor. He brushed the wiring aside, and wiped the sweat from his brow robotically. Something was wrong. They were getting shot at and hit intermittently, but the ship was not being destroyed. The attack had come almost as soon as they had passed one of Zarkona’s moons, like the enemy had been waiting for them. It was very unlike the Uni’s to not follow their ridiculous protocol to the letter. While Captain Ethan Nova rarely adhered to anything similar to standard practices the Unite the Universe supporters lived by them. The black vessel certainly appeared to be a Uni enforcement ship, but they were maneuvering as if they intended to board the ship. According to their galaxy sized rulebook, that could only occur after all attempts at contacting the vessel in question were exhausted.
Why were they not detaching!
“We are having, er- technical difficulties?” Her voice sounded meek, confused. Being a man of action, the captain did not like to wait around. It was time to move. He slammed the panel back in place on his way out of the cockpit. “Where are you going?”
“To the Main Control Room, Polly. I am going to grab some of the crew and find out what is going on.” As an afterthought he added. “I’m sweating, Polly.” He could hear her eyes roll. “Sweating!”
He exited the cockpit which led to the main corridor amidst lights, and sirens. A very unsettling emotion began to form somewhere between his stomach and heart. Where was the crew? The intercom was within easy reach of his right hand. There was a brief moment where the captain paused as his ship sustained another weak effort from the enforcement ship. He could demand their immediate assistance as part of his crew. If he did that though, then he would not be able to catch them doing whatever it was they were doing, preventing them from doing what they were supposed to be doing. Follow?
The crew on The Goodnight consisted of Nova and two other stellar galaxy adventurers. One was a mechanic from Creedle, whose adeptness at repairing whatever Nova broke was matched only by his stench. The gangly alien race had an unabashed love of a spice from their homeland that they generously added to every meal. The spice was grown in the marshes of Lkan. The marsh oozed brown and yellow sludge that produced a thorny oddly shaped plant. This plant could grow to the size of a man, and its spikes could be harvested to make phylo.
His long-limbed mechanic wreaked of the stuff. But Captain Nova found a use for him. Most Uni cronies won’t stay aboard a ship long when being escorted around by a Creedle. He (it?) was the perfect company to remove any guest who is not wanted, or no longer wanted.
The Goodnight was also home to a weapon specialist. Brute of a man named Bear. At least that is what everybody called the man so Nova assumed that was his name. Both the smelly Creedle and the quiet Bear had been traveling under Ethan Nova’s command from the beginning. So, there was no reason to suspect foul play. Except for that feeling between his heart and stomach. That feeling never lied. Sometimes it misguided Nova. But it never raised the alarm when there was nothing to be alarmed about.
Call it instincts, but whatever it was, it told him to continue on in radio silence. The Goodnight was not the largest ship Nova had ever been aboard, but it was also not the smallest. And right now, it certainly was the longest. The corridor swayed as they survived another volley that sent him to the floor. He fell a foot and a half from the manhole that led to the mess hall. The smell of phylo lingered in the air with a lack of pungency. The Creedle hadn’t cooked in a while. What was going on? Who was attacking them? Well, he had a pretty good idea who it was. And he didn’t want to meet a Uni today. Or any other day really.
Up ahead on the left were the escape pods. The corridor the captain was making his way through bent sharply to the right, went on another hundred feet or so, and then on to the Main Control Room. He drew his weapon as he pressed his back against the wall directly before the bend. The name of the weapon was scrawled along the handle in some fancy font - a Stardust Elite. Who thought of these names? He wanted to be a weapon namer. Not for pay or anything. Just to make sure nobody ever named a weapon anything similar to Stardust - ever again.
The captain pressed on the flesh directly behind his ear until he could feel the click of his transmitter. “Polly, can you hear me?”
“Yes. Why are you whispering?”
“Practicing.”
“Practicing for-“
“I want to be a weapon namer,” Nova interrupted.
“Uh - what?”
“From now on, my gun is no longer a Stardust Elite.”
“Are you alright?”
“Ask me what it’s called.”
“Ok - what?”
“A vaporizer.”
“I don’t know how to respond to that. Noted?”
“Good. Alright then, -” sparks flew a few feet behind him as another blast took some skin off the hull. “Close one.”
Polly didn’t respond, which meant she was nervously checking the likelihood of his survival. Again. “It makes me nervous when you do this.”
“Do what?”
“You know,” he crouched and pushed forward slowly.
"Fine. Why a vaporizer?"
"Because, it vaporizes. It doesn’t stardust, Polly. I’m not even sure stardust is a real thing."
It was a strange thing, to be so cautious on his own ship. He peered around the corner and almost got his face blasted off.
What was going on? There were two figures dressed in all black SAS gear – Sustainable Atmosphere Suits. His path to the Main Control Room was temporarily blocked as a result of the two unwelcome guests. It was the type of gear that would allow you to travel through space for about a week. Assuming you didn’t get too close to a star or something. Then you might disintegrate into stardust. He guessed stardust could be a thing. But he wouldn’t call his weapon that. How did they get on the ship?
"Why didn’t you tell me we had guests?" He hissed.
He used his telescopic camera to view around the corner without the risk of getting shot himself. Unfortunately, all he could see was that their helmet visors were down before his camera got blown to pieces. Polly would have to play back security footage later, if they made it off The Goodnight alive. When they made it off. It was important to be confident in survival situations.
His chest was heaving, his nostrils flared - he returned fire. What was the plan? Why were the figures not running down the corridor to engage him? Where was Polly? The captain applied pressure to the transmitter behind his ear. "Update?" he hissed.
"Nothing new to report. Well, except now we will need to have Stretch look at electrical panel 15. We have suffered some internal damage.” She said it a bit thickly. With a hint of accusation. “Oh, and someone is blocking me from the main system."
"Aren’t you the ship? Shouldn’t you do the blocking?"
"Honestly?” She sounded as if she was about to start a lengthy explanation, but all that came out was, “it’s too complicated for you to understand."
He screamed, “Vaporize!” as he returned fire again.
"Well, that’s not going to help anything," her calm robotic melodic voice was pissing him off.
"It sure made me feel better."
As an afterthought, he returned fire again, but this time he shouted, "Stardust Elite!" See? Sounded pretty dumb. He was sure Polly was shaking her head somewhere. He smiled.
"Yes. Well, we have a separate issue."
"Really? More pressing than the ship being taken by unknown aliens, being hacked, and shot at?"
"The assailant in the ship behind us is almost in range of the larger, short-ranged photon cannon."
Captain Nova heard footsteps. He glanced around the corner and saw the figures coming closer. Above their shoulders, beyond them there was a door. There was a window built into the door. The window allowed you to see into the Main Control Room. There was a face spying out the window. But it couldn’t be him. Nova was being shot at again. The figures were running towards him. It was time to head for the escape pods and hope they were not disabled.
Captain Nova tumbled forward into a somersault in order to enter the escape pod with minimal chances of getting killed - he hoped.
As it turned out, no shots were fired. So, he likely just looked ridiculous. He hopped into the cool padded seat and hit the button to close the blast doors. To his surprise, there were no parting shots, no ding against the metal door. It wasn’t him they were after.
There was a small pedestal next to the pilot chair. He drew a star with an “X” through it. This was the password for his ship because there were no good nights; only long ones. And this one, would be quite long. He had lost his ship, his crew, and whether or not he would be lost was still a question.
“There you are,” came her familiar voice.
He smiled as he let out the breath he was unaware he had been holding. Hadn’t completely lost his ship anyway.
Before she could see that he was smiling to see her, he quickly acquired a stern expression, “Yes, well. No thanks to you I’m sure.”
“Always the tough guy.”
“Did I mention I’m sweating? My face is literally glistening. I think my beard is shiny.”
"What beard?" See? It was more stubble than beard.
He attempted to disengage the escape pod from The Goodnight. Polly already had the coordinates, so entering them only took a few seconds. Soon they would be landing on the white sandy beaches that Zarkona had to offer. It was the kind of sand that easily spilled through your toes and left just enough that you always left with some in your boots. The captain looked up at his ship through the scuffed rectangular windows of the small pod. The Goodnight was charcoal grey in color, and the finish was more matte then gloss. It was classed a Space Interceptor by some official organization when the ship was created. But that just meant it was a small to medium sized craft that was faster than a freighter, but slower than the Uni Enforcer ships. He didn’t need the attention a flashy ship brought. Nor did he care to continuously worry about the maintenance of such an ostentatious decision. Some of the sections of The Goodnight were in need of repair, while others had recently been replaced. And they acquired all their “new” parts from junkyards or found them on scrapped ships floating in space. Each new part had a story behind the acquisition. A trade gone bad over there, a rub from an asteroid over here. Nostalgia would cloud his thinking so he concentrated on Zarkona, his eyes almost tender. Nothing a few blinks couldn’t take care of. Ahead of him the planet was growing larger. Focus.
“What happened up there?” Polly interrupted his thoughts.
“Can’t you access the security footage? I was hoping you would tell me.”
“Somehow they were controlling the system. I was completely locked out.”
He considered that a moment. “What did it feel like?”
“Excuse me? I don’t understand the question.”
“Never mind.” She wouldn’t understand. Artificial intelligence could regurgitate the definition for an emotion, but they could never actually feel. He wondered if being completely locked out and being dead were similar.
“So, where were you? When you were locked out, I mean.”
“I don’t understand the question. Although, I believe you would call it limbo.”
Basically, she was paralyzed it sounded like. She existed, but couldn’t act. To be fair he couldn’t answer the question either. Was lack of experience the same as lack of understanding? Possible.
“Who was interrupting my operations?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“Winstead,” the thieving, back-stabber. Polly and he didn’t always agree on how they felt about Winstead. She was too trusting, or Nova was too cynical. Or both. Probably both.
She was politely quiet. Winstead had been his second in command for a number of years when they were first starting out. Winstead decided he wanted a career in politics someday so he couldn’t be associated with a bunch of rogues and scoundrels. The relationship did not end well. In order to break into his new life and prove his worth Winstead decided to go after a known outlaw. Guess who?
“Are you certain?” She asked cautiously. Polly was aware of some of his history with Winstead. But not as much as she thought.
Nova had only caught a glimpse of the face he presumed to be Winstead. Certainty was difficult, but he knew. It was like one of those times you feel someone staring at you, turn around and there is someone, in fact, staring at you. Sometimes you just know.
Their little spacecraft buckled and rumbled. Nova had assumed it was a result of entering the planet’s atmosphere. The alerts, the red lights, and Polly cackling like static told him they had been hit. Several lasers raced past them. So, he was still a target. Interesting. Unexpected. But interesting.
This was not going to be a soft landing.
“Projection?”
“The damage is mainly to the navigation guiding system.”
“Meaning?"
“I don’t know where we are. The initial hit threw us off course and at this altitude all it takes are a few degrees for a large variance.”
He looked at the screens. There was nothing on the radar. The captain looked out the window and craned his neck to look up into space above him. From all appearances there was no one in pursuit.
“They were after the ship.” The parting shots must have been for good measure. None of this made any sense. As they got closer to land it became obvious that they were not over the forest continent. Space Traffic Control Officers would soon be requesting identification codes. When they did that Captain Ethan Nova had two choices: ignore the requests, or respond with a lie.
“How many false identification codes do we have?”
“Currently, just the one. The call sign is AVX10562. The captain is Blake Hammels and the ship is called, The Journey.”
Only one false ID?
“We need to find a forger when we land.”
“Confirmed. I will run a scan to see what forgers are known to reside on Zarkona.” I already knew where to find a few. But she needed something to keep her occupied while they plummeted to the surface blind.
The ship’s controls were barely functioning. A full turn was not possible at this point, he was more or less just gliding.
“This is Space Traffic Control. Advise call sign.”
“Space Traffic Control this is call sign AVX10562, Captain Blake Hammel of The Journey. We are experiencing issues with our flight control and our on board navigation system. We are requesting an emergency landing pad.”
“Confirmed. Watch for escort.”
Neither of them spoke for a few seconds. “Projection?”
“Not good. The escort will perform some visual recognition and determine you are not Captain Blake Hammel. Assuming the call sign even passed their inspection.”
“So, you don’t think they will setup the landing pad?”
Polly phased in and out. But he could assume that she shook her head or rolled her eyes. She was wearing full officer attire. Navy blue knee-length skirt with a double breasted blazer. The buttons all appeared to be brass etched with the Unite the Universe solar system insignia. He wished there was another clothing option, but Polly swore – on more than one occasion – that the profile for her appearance had been setup in a separate operating system. That it was inaccessible without being hooked into the system that created her. Could be true. He had never known her to lie.
Once the escort arrived he would have little opportunity for escape. He toyed with the trinket under his shirt as he mulled over his next move. There really was only one option.
“Are you ready, Polly.”
“Good luck. Don’t be long.” How did she always know what he was going to do?
Nova entered the password - hiding Polly in cyberspace, waiting for him so they could be reunited. Again.