Twinks in Space: Fantastic Voyage - Part Two - 17. Chapter 17 - Taking the Cometskipper

The captain of the interstellar warship Scorched Atmosphere was seated in his command chair.

His weapons technician informed him, “The Cometskipper has been disabled, sir, and it’s being drawn in.”

The communications officer turned to the captain and added, “Coms are open, sir.” He handed his superior the digital microphone.

“This is Captain Disigorth of the Olotarian battleship Scorched Atmosphere. Prepare to be boarded.”

Captain Disigorth rose from his chair and headed down to his ship’s armory. Two of his head officers were suiting up in their infantry gear.

“I want a battalion on the Cometskipper the moment we’re docked,” the captain ordered, “and tell them to be prepared; Madam Fonith’s ship may be dead, but she is a warrior, and she is not to be underestimated. I want her and whoever is on her ship subdued, and I want them alive, understand?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” the men replied.

Captain Disigorth began to suit up in his battle attire. The infantry armor that he and his men wore was strong enough to withstand most standard blaster bolts, however the captain’s armor also possessed the advanced capability of reflecting fired bolts back at the shooter.

Thirty-eight soldiers were stationed aboard the Scorched Atmosphere, and each of their armor was color-coded to the individual’s rank. The protective suits were charcoal grey with black accents, and the shoulders of each bore a single stripe of one of seven different colors. Twenty-two of the men were privates with white stripes on both their shoulders. There were two corporals with purple stripes, one sergeant with green, nine chief officers with orange, one lieutenant with blue, and two commanders with yellow. Only the captain’s stripes were red.

The voice of the ship’s flight commander rang out over the speakers. “The Scorched Atmosphere has docked with the bounty hunter’s ship. Exterior doors are disengaging. The prisoners are to be taken alive. Repeat! The prisoners are to be taken alive.” The speakers fell silent.

As Captain Disigorth made his way from the armory toward the airlock, he could hear his officers ordering their men.

“Get in there!” one of them shouted.

Nine soldiers and two other officers rushed inside to release the interior hatch of the Cometskipper. They were intent on being the first ones to assail whoever was onboard the starship.

An instantaneous flash illuminated the interior of the Cometskipper’s airlock, and the light died immediately.

The soldiers within were screaming.

A single pulse of energy with the intensity of a small star had ripped through them. Their scorched flesh clung to their charred bones, and their weapons were melted and fused to their destroyed bodies. The anguished wails faded as the soldiers’ lives came to a grisly end.

“Dear gods!” Captain Disigorth cried. “Fonith is a godsdamn monster! I want her taken!” He grabbed the weapons officer by his throat. “Why in the name of all the gods does her ship still have any power?!”

The man choked out his words. “The trap… must have a… a… a separate… power supply. It was… a core-diesel flare.” He took a wheezing breath. “They… they can only be used… once.”

Captain Disigorth released his officer. “Get that inner hatch open,” he growled.

The next few soldiers cautiously entered the airlock and stood above the smoldering corpses of their companions. One of the men stepped up to the control panel and informed the others, “It’s unlocked.”

As the door creaked open, its seal hissed.

The soldier pushed the hatch and stepped back.

It was dark inside the Cometskipper.

“There are likely other traps,” one of the officers whispered.

“And Madam Fonith is not to be underestimated,” Captain Disigorth repeated from back within the Scorched Atmosphere.

The officer waved for two of his men to proceed into the Cometskipper. They stepped onboard and slowly made their way deeper. One side of the hallway that led from the airlock was lined with crates. The soldiers lifted a few of the lids, but there was only preserved food in them. The rest of the hall was empty, and at the end of it were two doors. One was very basic, and the other had a digital frame and a control panel set into the door itself. The officer nodded for them to proceed.

As the handle of the plain door turned, it let out a loud squeak, and the soldiers both cringed at the noise. They shoved the door open, and its hinges screeched at being moved. The two men found themselves in the Cometskipper’s kitchen. No one was inside. The officers on the Scorched Atmosphere sent several more men in behind the first two soldiers, who were examining the advanced doorway.

“Use the code-breaker.”

“Is it even locked?”

One of them pushed the RELEASE button, but instead of opening the door, an astro-harpoon was launched from the control panel. The massive steel bolt pierced straight through the first soldier’s chest, shattering his sternum and ripping an enormous chasm through his torso. The harpoon was fired with such force that its tip and the full front third of its shaft lodged in the other man’s left lung. He grabbed the end that stuck out of his flesh, and he collapsed to the floor of the hallway.

“Medic!” one of the soldiers behind him cried out toward the crew aboard the Scorched Atmosphere, but the man writhed in agony, and he rolled onto the harpoon’s shaft. Its point shifted and stabbed into his heart. His limbs seized, and he exhaled his final gurgling breath.

“Everyone out!” one of the officers shouted. “Give me the code-breaker. I’ll get the door open myself.”

A moment later, with no further traps sprung, the officer managed to release the door’s lock. “We’re in,” he whispered back to the other men.

Another pair of soldiers entered the Cometskipper’s airlock followed by a group of six. Behind the digital door was a set of stairs leading to the upper floor of the ship. It was not a large vessel, and the soldiers expected there to be limited places for those onboard to hide.

Just as the first soldiers’ heads reached the top of the stairs, a round object went sailing through the air between them. They both turned and watched it collide with the helmet of one of the men behind them. To their surprise, the thing burst into a cloud of nano-particles, and the instant the men inhaled them, they were incapacitated.

At the top of the stairs, Fonith peeked down at the pile of unconscious soldiers. “Stawren’s specialty arrowhead worked perfectly!”

“Madam Fonith,” Captain Disigorth said over her ship’s speakers, “you are evil and a true villain.”

Fonith grinned and turned to her fellow bounty hunter with orders. “Golvinte, go up to the pulse canons. See if they’re still dead. If not, shoot the Scorched Atmosphere at point-blank range.”

Her instruction worried Golvinte. “Since the ships are attached, won’t that mess with the Cometskipper?”

“The weapon that is still draining my ship needs to be taken out if we want to escape.”

Golvinte nodded and rushed to the upper level of the ship.

Fonith turned to Captain Suoki. “Stay here,” she commanded, “and hold off whoever comes up those stairs. Throw the rest of Stawren’s arrowheads, but don’t use your blasters; punching a hole in the hull would ruin our day.”

“Aye-aye!” Captain Suoki replied.

Fonith opened a nondescript door and revealed an elevator. “This leads to the kitchen and makes it easier to bring food up. Where it opens below is back behind my refrigeration unit, and there’s a rolling rack of shelves in front of the door. I’ll sneak down and these Scorched Atmosphere assholes won’t know what hit them.”

She entered the lift and descended to the kitchen. The door silently slid open, and Fonith slipped out from behind the rack of shelves. She crept past her refrigerator and stove, and she grabbed a huge meat cleaver from her rack of knives. At the door that led into the hallway, Fonith brought her fingers to its handle, but as she turned it, it creaked and someone on the other side reacted immediately.

A boot kicked the door, which slammed into Fonith’s brow and knocked her to the floor. The cleaver went clanging across the kitchen. She saw stars and squinted her eyes hard. When she opened them, the sight that greeted Fonith was not a welcome one.

Four soldiers with blasters pointed at her face were standing above her. They were shouting orders, but their commands were little more than garbled chatter to Fonith’s ringing ears. Two of the men grabbed her arms and yanked her to her feet.

Then everything went black.