The repair crew, part 1

         “Hey Benny, throw me that wrench.” Clank
         “Nice catch, Van.”
         “Sorry.”
         “Consarn it, can’t you even catch a tool, you tool?”
         “DAD!”
         “Macq, lift that beam.”
         “Kleonc wedllib, snigig.”
         “I’m just asking…”
         “Young lady, you put that down!”
         “Dad, I’m twenty five! I can handle a power wrench!”
         “What would your mother say?”
         “For you to shut up!”
         “Creolinick!”
         “I know.”
         “Watch where you’re swinging that thing, Nags.”
         “Fiziziz, kreeeeeeeee!”
         “Watch out, you’re going to hit the oil!”
         Crash, splash.
         “My hair!”
         “My face!”
         “Strinkoon Nigan!”
         Crent had heard enough. He shut off the intercom and stepped into the garage. The scene in front of him was laughable, if Crent ever laughed.
         Macq, full name Mackaqwinardinoliol, was drenched from green head to foot, all eight feet of him doused in oil. Next to him, Van had a face full of the liquid, missing the already oil-stained suit and instead hitting him full in the face. On the other side of Macq stood Dolly, her black hair already clumping.
         Dolly’s father, Nicholas, stood by. He was grizzled with age, holding a wielding torch and wearing an iron mask with only a small glass window. Chasing after the empty barrels of oil were Nagsonic, nickname Nags, and Benjamin, called Benny. Nags sported long and spindly appendages, with small compound eyes and brown skin that gave him the look of an insect. Benny had brown hair and blue eyes. Benny’s presence didn’t draw much attention, but he had extensive knowledge of…everything.
         Van wiped the oil from his face with a rag, but only managed to smear it around his face. The forelocks of his sandy brown hair whetted with the black liquid. Macq simply sighed and trudged off to his custom-sized shower, and Dolly looked murderous.
         “Van, I am going to kill you,” she said, raising her arms at neck height and turning to Van.
         “Don’t worry, I can fix it!” Van said, looking around wildly. He spotted a giant vacuum, normally used for dry spills.
         “Oh no you don’t!” Dolly screamed, but Van was already off and running.
         Crent sighed and started after Van, who had climbed into the controller’s seat and started the vacuum up, causing suction that buffeted the iron-walled garage. Small tools and materials flew towards the vacuum and disappeared inside. The oil spilled over the ground and zoomed towards the massive machine.
         Before anybody could do anything, the oil disappeared up the tube. The vacuum shuddered violently, and then stopped. The vacuum is only used for dry materials because it is powered by heat. Add a flammable liquid, and the results can be…tremendous.
         “Van, shut it off!” Dolly screamed over the explosions and fireballs.
         “I can’t! It won’t respond!” Van yelled back.
         The canister, nearly twenty feet high, swayed and bucked dangerously, but managed to stay upright.
         “Come on! Work!” Van shouted, bashing the controls with his fist.
         Immediately the vacuum stopped rocking and the suction ceased. “Hey, it worked!” Van said, waving his hands in the air. Dolly, Nicholas, Nags, and Benny emerged from behind a large board. Van turned at a cough from behind him. He saw Crent standing by a large outlet. A giant plug hung limp in his hands and a scowl was on his face. “Er, hey Crent. How are you?”
         “Angry. Clean this mess up. With rags. Then hit the showers,” Crent said.
         “You heard the man, team! Start cleaning!”
         “No Van. You caused the spill, you broke the vacuum, you clean it all,” Crent said, turning towards the exit.
         Van threw down his dirty rag in disgust.

         Seven hours later, Van dragged himself into the tiny mess hall and collapsed into a seat. Drin, the technical supervisor, was across from him, chewing on a carrot.
         “Usual, V?” Mixnix asked from the kitchen.
         “Better make it a double, Mix.”
         Mix’s six arms blurred as they flew to cabinets and shelves to gather ingredients. Within minutes, the blue alien had conjured up a giant hamburger, a towering plate of onion rings, and a large fat-free shake.
         “Rough day?” Drin asked, nabbing an onion.
         “Big oil spill, had to help clean it up,” Van said through a mouthful of burger.
         “Did you help cause this spill?” Drin asked.
         “You could say that,” Van said.
         Drin wiped fried grease from his olive-colored skin. “Dolly says it was entirely your fault,” he said
         “Oh”
         Margo, the housekeeper, entered. “Morning boys. Mix! Egg sandwich?’
         “Coming up!” Mix shouted back. Margo sat down at the table next to Van.
         “That was some disaster in the garage, Van.” She lifted her hand and caught a plate with a sizzling sandwich on it. She set the plate down and began to munch on the sandwich. “Nick was blabbing about it.”
         “I could say some things about Nick,” Van said, rolling his eyes. He cleaned the bottom of the glass with his finger and threw the empty dishes in the dish-pile for cleaning. Mixnix grabbed them and happily scrubbed away, humming. “I’m off to bed. Later,” Van said, yawning.
         “Later,” Drin said.
         “Try to keep that room tidy, a’ight?” Margo said, eying him.
         “Come on, you know me,” Van said, making his way to the door.
         “That’s why I’m reminding you.”

         When Van entered his room, his roomie Benny was at his desk, writing a letter.
         “Finally done, Van?” Benny said without looking. Van said nothing, but peeled off his jumpsuit and climbed into his bunk. “Don't be so sour, Van. It's your own fault.”
         All Benny heard was a grumble. Ben said nothing, but signed his letter and left the room, passing Dolly in the hall.
         “Another letter to your girlfriend, Benny?” She said, staggering under a load of metal reinforcement plates.
         “Need help?” Benny asked.
         “Please!”
         Benny dropped his letter and took half of the plates. He placed the plates on the ground, and stuffed his letter in his pocket. He then picked the metal plates back up and looked at Dolly, who was laughing.
         “What's so funny?”
         “You're embarrassed!”
         “'Bout what?” Benny asked, following Dolly down the hall.
         “About your girlfriend! Come on...tell me about her! And no changing the subject!”
         “Well...” Benny blushed. “She's got brown hair, she's about 5' 7”...”
         “Not what she looks like! Tell me what she's like.” Benny sighed, defeated.
         “She loves to get my letters. She's studying animal surgery on Cayinz. She writes back sometimes and tells me about the animals she's caring for.  She's helped herses, caows, and an animal that's called a nnnnn.”
         “Nnnnn?”
         “Nnnnn. It's a perverse cross between a dragon and a termite. It breathes fire and eats wood. But it is immensely useful beast of burden and is very intelligent.”
         “Cool,” said Dolly.
         “Very. She loves to swim in the lakes, and also likes wildflowers. She's written poetry about several things, and has sent them with her letters.”
         The two entered the cargo bay, adjacent to the garage, and found Nick already there.
         “Ah, there's my girl. And Benny, too,” he said, smiling a crooked smile.
         “Hiya pops. We got the plates for you,” Dolly said, dropping the plates on the ground. Benny followed suit, and stretched his back as Dolly left, leaving Benny alone with Nick.
         “So, enjoying my daughter's company, eh? Quite a beauty, isn't she? But you better watch yourself around her, I'll have no 'hands on' learning,” Nick said, tightening his mouth at Benny. Benny rolled his eyes. Classic Nick.
         “Sorry Nick, I have to mail a letter to my girlfriend.” Benny put emphasis on the last word. Nicholas shrugged, and exited the same door Dolly had. He hobbled along the slightly slanted floor, groaning at a last step, and entered the pilot's room.
         “Morning Mike! Where are we headed next?” Nick asked the young pilot, Michael.
         “Why do you always ask that, Nicholas?” Mike replied, swiveling in the pilot's chair.
         “I like to stay informed, dear boy.” A light blinked on the panel behind Mike.
         “Hold that thought,” Mike said as he pressed a button. He listened to the message and stiffened. He pressed a different button and began speaking into a microphone. His voice was amplified throughout the vessel. “All personnel, we are currently en route to Diablo Z, where the destroyer Denubis has sustained asteroid damage. All mechanics to the garage. Nina, prepare the infirmary and don't overexert yourself. Mix, start up the kitchen and Margo, open the guest rooms.” Mike turned to Nick. “Does that answer your question?” Nick was already gone.

Nick passed Nina in the hallway, She was running full tilt, a pan of sterilized medical instruments bounced in her hands. She skidded to a stop and opened the door to the sparkling medical room. Ten beds sat in rows, with cabinets full of diagnoses, rolls of bandages, gels to soothe burns, antibiotics, wicked looking needles, and a jar of hiccup cure.
         Nina placed the pan on a long central table and began folding down the bedsheets.  Mike, her husband, didn't think she should be this, but who would do it in her absence?
         “It's my job! The baby isn't due for another 7 months!” She said aloud. She straightened her nurse's cap, though she was an accomplished surgeon, and awaited the patients.

         At that point, Margo flew by the infirmary door, heading the way Nina had come. She lugged a mop and bucket, and had a belt of sponges, disinfectant, toilet brushes, rubber gloves and, unbeknownst to the other crew members, a handgun. Margo was grumbling loudly about the workload that had just come flying out of the speaker and smacked her in the face. She had already cleaned three rooms, and was headed for her fourth. They didn't take long to clean, but with fifty of them on the entire vessel, she needed to work fast. Six minutes and thirty-three seconds later Margo stepped out of her fourth room and labeled it ready . She grabbed the mop bucket and headed for her fifth.

         Mixnix practically jumped with glee. Visitors! Meals to prepare! Dishes to wash!  Maybe one of them was a six-armed Veltian! Mixnix quieted and began to prepare a menu for the visitors. Steak, pasta, Ninz loin, eck-eck bird, and that wonderful stew he had tasted once on Menagerie. What was that? Stapled trout? Mixnix easily recalled the recipe with his perfect memory, and Mixnix's six arms began to weave a confusing dance, grabbing ingredients and materials. Two of his hands pounded away at the steak while two more mixed salad. The final two threw fruits in a blender and started the machine up. How he loved to cook!

         “How are the engines, Drin?” Crent asked, startling the technician.
         “Fine. Oil's at two-fifths. Do we have an order to burn?” Drin piped from behind a pipe. Crent shook his head.
         “Damage to the Denubis are mostly exterior, with minimal interior damage.”
         “Injuries?”
         Crent shrugged. “A few.
         “That's good,” the engine expert said.
         “By the way, Drin, cannon three needs a tune,” Crent said, turning for the exit. “The targeting is getting a little off.”
         “I'll pencil you in.” Drin said from inside the inner workings of the engine.

         Macq hunched double, squeezing through the doorway from his room. Nags exited after him, his slight frame a contrast to Macq's bulk. For your convenience, their conversation will be translated.
         “(How are you holding up today, Nags?)” Macq rumbled, shuffling down the hallway.
         “(Better. The sores have gone down, and the coughing has subsided some,)” Nags replied, his spindly limbs locked around a pile of clothes. “(I just hope your new suit holds up.)”
         “(Blasted growth spurts,)” Macq said, tilting his head to avoid a hanging light. The two mismatched friends entered the locker room, and were met by Van and Benny, already wearing their orange under suits.
         “This is just what I need,” Van was saying. “Another job to do. Why can't I just get some rest?” He threw an undershirt into a laundry shoot.
         “Look at it this way,” Benny said. “Dolly will see you in action.”
         “Yeah. Heh-heh.” Van flexed his arms. Macq picked the human up and moved him out of the way, lumbering towards his XL locker.
         “(You still crushing on the female?)” Nags asked, slipping into his small under-suit.
         “At least she's my species!” Van said, zipping up his on his outer suit. Nags stifled a cough and grimaced.
         “Alright ladies, let's get suited up!” Nick said, slamming the metal door with a clang. “Felling any better, Nags?”
         “(Better, thank you.)”
         “Good. Diablo Z is coming up fast. The Denubis has worse damage than we figured, but a great percentage of it is external. It's nothing we can't handle, but she's in hostile territory, so we need to work fast,” Nick said, pulling on his suit.
         “Yes sir, Mr. Nicholas sir!” Van said sarcastically, immediately hit in the face by a pair of dingy boxer shorts. Van flung them away with a yelp, and hurriedly pulled on his gloves.
         “Attention crew members,” Michael's voice came through the speakers. “Destroyer Denubis is in sight. All mechanics to the garage bay. And Nick!” Nick winced. “Don't hit anybody with a wrench this time!” A clunk was heard as the intercom shut off.
         “Darn,” was all Nick said.

         The destroyer Denubis loomed before Michael in the view screen as he piloted the comparatively small craft towards it. Asteroids had torn holes in the hull that had been hastily patched by the destroyer's crew. The ship was long, with a bevy of antennae at the front of the ship. Docking bays and fighter ports dotted here and there, while Solaris-class fighters buzzed around the destroyer, high-powered lasers ready to dispatch any space pirates.
         “Destroyer Denubis, this is the repair ship Ultima. Transferring codes now,” Mike said as he punched in numbers.
         “Thanks for getting here so fast, Ultima,” A red-faced man said over the vidcomm. “Damage reports keep coming in. We've had to seal off a few sectors.”
         “Don't worry sir, our crack head team will take care of it. Sorry, did I saw that out loud?” Mike said, grinning. The man on the other side laughed.
         “I heard your squad was the best, lieutenant. I hope I heard right.”

         Nina scanned a list of injuries aboard the Denubis. While most of them could be handled onboard the destroyer, Nina would have a little action at least. Burns, both serious and mild, cuts, broken bones, concussions, internal damage, and a compound fracture. Nina hated repairing those. She quickly ranked the injuries from highest priority to lowest, starting with the internal bleeding and ending with a series of small cuts, and prepared the necessary materials. Nina flipped on the guide-lights when she felt the ship shudder to a stop. The lights would assist any injured find their way to the infirmary.
         “Are you ready yet, honey?” Mike’s voice crackled over a headset earphone. “The Denubis has just launched a shuttle with your patients aboard.”
         “Don’t worry about me, cutie, just make sure we don’t crash,” Nina said into the mouthpiece. She heard a chuckle over the headset
         “Will you be needing any help?” Mike asked.
         “I might. Margo can help me with everything. There isn’t anything life-threatening, but I’ll have to settle a few bones,” Nina said back.
         “Well, don’t take it too hard, the ba-”
         “I know! I know!” Nina yelled. “It has only been two months! The baby will not be hurt by me doing my job!”
         “All right, settle down. The shuttle will arrive in about five minutes,” Mike’s voice soothed. “Contact me if you need any extra help.”
         “Roger,” Nina said, bustling around the room.

         Margo spread her feet and gripped the mop handle firmly. Her shoulders squared as the airlock released.
         “Injured follow the white lines!” She bellowed as the door squealed open and forms rushed through. “Damage info to the briefing room, follow the green lights! Captain’s information to the bridge, follow the purple!” She shouted, motioning to the corresponding lights with mop as she spoke. People of all sizes broke off in the three directions she indicated.
         She grabbed the arm of a hobbling woman, her knee bent awkwardly, and helped her towards the infirmary. The woman smiled at her through pain-filled eyes, and Margo smiled back.

         Nick took the sheet from the brown-haired runner for the Denubis. Nick’s eyes zipped back and forth.
         “Macq: you’ll cover the starboard stern. Van and Benny, you’re port, bow and stern. Dolly, you’ll be working on the communication systems, Nags, focus on the weapons, and I’ll get started on the interior,” Nick said. He pickled up his helmet and clicked it into place. “Check headsets!”
         “Van!”
         “Benny.”
         “Dolly.”
         “(Macq).”
         “(Nags).”
         “And me. Everybody ready? Good, let’s go!” Nick shouted as he mashed open on the bay doors. All six of the mechanics launched themselves out of the bay into open space.
         “Droids away!”  Michael’s voice came through the headsets in each person’s helmet. The six were joined by sixty egg-shaped spheres, which, with clicks and clunks, morphed into man-sized robots, armed with tools of all kind. Each mechanic was accompanied by ten of the robots as they went to their respective targets, and immediately set to work.

         “Good to see you, captain,” another messenger for the Denubis told Michael. “We have all the info right here.” He handed Michael a locked iron box.
         “Thank you. What do you know of space pirate activity in the area?”
         “Nothing’s been reported in a while, sir.”

         These were the times that made Crent feel nervous. And as the security officer on the ship, it was his job to feel nervous. The repair crew was still vulnerable, exposed in between ships, the other crew members indisposed. Crent didn’t like it.

         Inside the infirmary, pandemonium reigned. Nina struggled to keep up with the increasingly frantic demands of her patients, aided only by Margo.
         “Michael, get down here! It’s worse than we thought!” Nina screamed into her microphone. She hastily wrapped a bleeding arm as she awaited his reply. Margo calmly spread salve on a burn patient next to her.
         Mike’s voice came through to Nina.
         “I’m sorry Nina, I’ve just-” He was cut off.

         Drin pulled on a wrench, tightening a panel. A ship full of mechanics and he’s the only one working down here. Drin checked the readout screens Everything seemed fine.
         Then the engines died.

         We all know that there is no sound in space. But not all of us know that space drives emit a vibration that resonates inside helmets.  Van was removing a mass of crunched metal when he felt many more vibrations than normal. He knew what it was before he looked up, but he did anyway. Then he yelled into his mouthpiece as loud as he could.
         “PIRATES!”

         Nick cursed, Dolly screamed, Macq harrumphed, and Nags emitted a loud keening. Benny felt like doing all four. The unlawful ships zoomed towards them with lightning speed, groups of two or three breaking off every which way
         Benny looked at the droids. Crent should have set them on the defense setting by now. Something had happened.

         Crent tried all eight channels. Nothing. The master channel. Nothing.  He tried the channel override. Dead. It sounded like the engines had stopped, too.
         Crent ran to another panel and keyed in a command. His heart jumped; the guns were still active! Crent punched in the codes as fast as he could, and a green light blinked on. A little better, Crent thought.

         On the exterior of the Ultima, four round, double-barreled cannons unfolded and took aim, guided by computers. The space pirates ships, suddenly harried by hundred of fat orange lasers, took evasive maneuvers, dodging and weaving, the Ultima’s clumsy lasers never touching the pirates. Floating above the injured destroyer, Nags cursed the pirates in his vibrating language. He was running out of breath when he was suddenly hit from below by the very cannon he had been repairing, rising out of it’s bay. The barrel was easily as large in diameter as Nags was tall. The over sized cannon was held between two triangular bases. Nags, weakened from his tirade, fell victim to a fit of coughing, and failed to get out of the way in time. The giant weapon continued to rise slowly, and took Nags with it. When the barrel finally stopped rising, Nags’ arms and legs were splayed around the top of the barrel. As the fit began to subside, Nags felt the cannon start to heat up, preparing to fire.

         “The droids aren’t doing anything!” Benny screamed in Van’s ear, it seemed.
         “I know I know!” Van yelled back. “Wait! Look!” He pointed at two of the larger pirate ships, floating to a stop next to the Denubis on the port side, near where Van and Benny floated. Van engaged his thrusters and zoomed towards the smaller of the two ships.
         “Van! What are you doing?” Benny whispered.
         “That’s an Io-class fighters! I know how to disable them!” Van said back, as he landed lightly atop the craft. He took out a laser-cutter and began making incisions in the ship’s hull.
         The fighter’s pilot must have found out, because the fighter immediately zipped into open space, leaving Van hanging on for dear life.

         “I can’t reach the Denubis,” the destroyer’s crew member said to Michael. “What’s going on out there?”
         “All transmissions have been cut off. I can’t even reach the engineers,” Michael said. He cupped his head in his hands. “There’s not much we can do from here.”
         “Than I suggest you look over those papers,” the crewman nodded towards the pile he had handed Michael. Mike walked over to the pile, and picked up the first sheet of paper, a dossier of the infirmary’s patients.
         “I hate this!” Michael slammed his fist down on the stack of papers, scattering a few. “I feel so useless!” He starred at the wall until something caught the corner of his eye. He shifted through the papers until he came to what he had seen. He removed a piece of paper from the pile, and his stomach fell when he realized what it was.
         “This,” Michael said, turning to the other on the bridge, “is one of the control codes for the Harbinger Laser.”

         “Hold him down, Margo!” Nina screamed at the maid. Margo did her best to keep the man from struggling as Nina pressed on his shoulder with the purpose of setting it back in its socket. A wet crack resounded in the infirmary as the bone finally yielded. The infirmary had emptied some since the patients had arrived. Nina walked to another patient and began wrapping a cut. Margo gave the previous patient a pain-duller, and, when well enough, directions to the cafeteria.
         “Still no communications,” Nina said sullenly. She was far past worrying.
         “If something were very wrong, somebody would come here to talk to us,” Margo said.
         “Nina!” Nina whirled to face the door. Mike stood there, panting.
         “Michael? Is everything-”
         “Everybody needs to get off the ship. Now.”
         “Michael, what-”
         “I can’t explain now. Their lives are in danger.” He faced the remaining patients. “Ours too. I’m sorry everyone! Everybody please return to the shuttle!” He faced his wife. “What do you have left?”
         “Minor injuries, nothing that can’t wait, at least a little bit.”
         “Good. Margo,” Margo snapped to attention. “Deliver the same message to the cafeteria, then get back to the docking bay, Off with you!”
         As Margo left the room, pushing her cleaning cart with her, Mike’s gaze fell on Nina’s confused face. “I’m sorry honey, I’ll try to explain later.”
         Mike jumped as a voice suddenly came through his ear piece. He pressed it into his ear with his finger, and listened intently. In his other hand were two sheets of paper, one green, and one orange. He was holding the green piece very firmly.
         “The space pirates just stormed the Denubis and… dammit, they didn’t find what they were looking for.”
         “Who is it?” Nina asked.
         “Dolly. The grease monkeys are trying to get back into the ship, except… for Van.”

         Incredibly, Van had managed to hold on as the agile ship maneuvered around the Ultima and Denubis. Van was furiously cutting through the metal of the fighter, hunting for the engine cutoff. Van knew he had plenty of air left, but he didn’t know how long he could hold on to the speedy ship. The fighter banked towards the Denubis, where Van noticed two things. One, many space pirates seemed to be on board the destroyer, and two, the destroyer’s giant cannon was pointed straight at him.

         Macq, after rescuing Nags from the searing heat of the giant cannon, jetted towards The Ultima, cradling Nags under one large arm. Below (to him anyway) pirate ships were breaking off of the Denubis and circling The Ultima like vultures, stalking their prey. Behind him, the cannon fired at the mass of ships, the destructive laser sizzling straight for a space pirate’s ship and its extra passenger.

         Dolly and Nick reached the garage first, and, as soon as they got within the airlock, threw off their helmets. Dolly removed the headset from her helmet and spoke into it.
         “Crent? Come in Crent!”
         Crent’s voice sounded weakly from the ear piece. “I’m getting you Dolly, but just barely.”
         “It looks like the space pirates are about to board The Ultima.” Dolly felt the ship shake slightly.
         “The shuttle with the Denubis’ passengers just left, but it doesn’t look like we’re going to be able to leave,” Crent told Dolly. An overhead grate rattled as Macq, Nags and Benny entered the hallway. “Dolly, I want you to meet me at the armory. They aren’t going to get on this ship that easily.” Dolly affirmed and turned to Benny.
         “Where’s Van?”

         “I didn’t wet myself, because I died,” Van repeated to himself. Oddly, he was wrong about both. The huge bolt had whizzed right by him and obliterated another ship, turning it to space dust in the blink of an eye. He blocked out the unpleasantness in his trousers and continued to cut away at the metal of the ship. Van spotted a large enemy ship connect to The Ultima, for what reason Van could not imagine.
         At that point, one of the repair ship’s clumsy laser cannons, number three, scored its first and only hit…on Van. Or very near him, anyway. The blast the blast sent Van’s mount spinning and caused Van to finally lose his grip. The edge of the spiraling ship clipped Van’s booster pack and sent him careening towards The Ultima, where he smashed into the edge of the engine housing. His jetpack smoldered, and from the sound of it, his radio had died, too.
         “This is not my day,” Van said to no one.

         Crent swiveled to point the rifle at the opening door.
         “It’s me!” Dolly shouted. Crent lowered the weapon.
         “Sorry. Here, put this on.” He threw Dolly a black vest and a rifle identical to his own. Dolly clipped on the armor, and it started to hum. She shoved a battery into gun. Light’s blinked and the gun’s meter rose to full power. Crent already had his armor and weapon ready. He nodded to Dolly, and she grinned.

         Margo wheeled her cart along at top speed, trash in the bin bouncing with each step She knew that her pistol would be needed soon, and she checked to make sure it would fire.
         It did. The bolt ricocheted around the hall, nearly taking Michael’s head off.
         “What it God’s name are you doing?” He yelled. Nina poked her head around the corner, then pulled the rest of her body with it.
         “Why do you have a gun?”
         “For situations like this, missy! We’re going to be boarded by pirates! What better time?” Margo said, stowing her weapon.
         “The pirates just connected!” Dolly said through the headphones. “They’re coming in.”
         “To the airlock!” Margo yelled. She led the way to the square door that the mechanics had entered through minutes earlier.
         Dolly and Crent rounded the corner behind them, clad in armor, wielding twin power rifles, able to change modes of fire with the push of a button.
         All of them tensed as the door opened.

         Five figures stepped out. Four of them, while dangerous, seemed generally unassuming. The fifth, though, exuded an air of confidence and strength. He was bald; his sharp nose and sharper eyes made him seem all the more deadly. A low-slung pistol was on his right hip, and his hands were clasped behind him casually. The other four pirates hefted older style rifles and pointed them at Dolly, Crent, Mike, and Nina.
         “My name is Hawk,” the man, more obviously the leader than anything else anywhere, said. “I am looking for something. Relinquish it, and I will let you live. Deny me, and you will die. You know what I seek, do you not?”
         Mike stepped forward. “We don’t have anything of value here.”
         “I know you have it. A piece of paper,” Hawk said. “The captain of the Denubis, rest his soul, said it had gotten here. And, If I am not mistaken, the Denubis has just left. I must say I believe the late Captain. Search him,” Hawk said to his pirates. Two pirates swarmed Mike and patted him down. Nina peeped, but kept back when another pirate aimed a rifle at her. The pirates came away with the green piece of paper Mike had been holding in the infirmary.
         “We found this, sir,” the pirate said when he handed the sheet to Hawk. Hawk scanned it. He crumpled the piece of paper and dropped it on the ground.
         “A list of infirmary patients. Where is it?” He asked Mike more firmly.
         “I…I threw it away,” Mike said.
         “You are a terrible liar, dear sir. Give me the paper or….” Hawk’s gaze floated to Nina. “…We may take more than just it.”
         Mike charged Hawk, fists flailing. Hawk waved away the other pirates and stepped forward himself. Mike swung, but Hawk easily blocked and struck with his fist, knocking Mike to the floor.
         “You don’t deserve her,” Hawk said. Mike roared and rushed Hawk again.
         Hawk tapped a button in his left palm, and a stream of energy billowed from a device on his wrist. It struck Mike with such force as to lift him from his feet and fling him against the far wall, where he lay still.
         “Michael!” Nina screamed as she rushed to his side.
         “Why you piece of-” Margo barked as she brandished her handgun. Hawk was faster, however, and had his own weapon pointed straight at her with no more exertion than simply walking. Margo stood, frozen.
         “Judging from your expressions, he was the only one who knew where the paper was. If such is the case, I suggest you start looking.” Hawk cocked the hammer of his pistol. “Now.”
         A burst of laser erupted from the grate above the pirates, striking one pirate in the arm and sending him flying. Van flew from the gate, braining another pirate with the wrench he was holding on the way down. Crent took the opportunity to blast a third pirate in the chest. Dolly followed his lead and downed the fourth with another shot. Margo re-fixed her aim on Hawk, who found four guns trained on him.
         “Kill me now, you will follow me shortly,” Hawk said, his demeanor unchanged. “But I will give you this round.” He kicked a groaning pirate in the ribs. “Pick him up,” Hawk said, motioning to another pirate. Hawk easily hoisted the last two.
         Hawk turned back to the five conscious crew. “You have twenty-four hours to get him awake and to find that paper.” The door began to close in between the pirates and the crew. “Or you will die.”

         “How did you know, Van?”
         “Dolly’s earpiece was still on. Mine was broken, and I got a different one,” Van answered. “I heard the whole conversation.”
         The entire crew had gathered in the cafeteria. Mix had made them soup while everyone was being brought up to speed.
         The entire crew, save for Michael and Nina.
         “I feel sick,” Benny said.
         “We all do,” Drin said. “What do we do now?”
         Everybody wanted that question answered, but the only one who could was unconscious.