Chapter 16: Boarding Party

Chapter 16 - Boarding Party

Nerissa was staring at the bridge monitors in confusion. Her three meter, bulky frame barely fit in the bridge, but you couldn't exactly command from the galley. “Why would they disengage their Slip drive in a dark system? This is the ass end of nowhere. There's no orbital facilities, no intra-system traffic, nothing. You confirmed there weren't even signs of asteroid belt mining facilities, right?”

Samanta looked up from the custom water-resistant console that was her regulation position on the bridge, “No indications of off-planet habitation whatsoever. Scans— hang on. Scans are picking up extreme maginetic fields around the planet. World core confirmed. Secondary scans are resolving now — signals are indicative of dimensional tears — high probability of an active outworlder infestation.”

Nerissa put a clawed hand to her head as she felt a tension headache coming on, “Okay, you know what that means. We're already in the system, it's too late to turn around. Quarantine protocols are in effect.”

Tegrin stood from where he sat, his 230 cm frame not quite reaching Nerissa's chin, “You're seriously going to bring us into realspace here? We could always pretend we didn't find them.”

“Even if we never drop into frame, someone's going to find out the system is infested eventually, and our flight logs were squirted out on the ansible the moment we began to decelerate. You don't want to be caught breaking quarantine. Besides, look at it this way — even a single outworlder is worth a quarter of what this job pays. Sure, we'll be stuck in isolation for a few years, but at least we won't be awake to experience it, and we'll walk out wealthy to boot.”

Tegrin's Cainan muzzle pulled up, exposing the faintest hint of the powerful jaw and teeth his species was known for, “Some of us have families, you know.”

Nerissa softened her tone; a fight wouldn't do right before action, “It's not that I'm not sympathetic — I am. But, what's done is done. Send enough home, and they can sync up with your frame later. You won't miss more than a year of their lives, subjective time. Samanta — you on board?”

“I'm long past my spawning years. Let's get it done. Maybe I can afford enough to skip past this entire dynastic line.”

Nerissa blinked her nictating membranes in surprise, “Don't let anyone hear you say that within the borders of the empire.”

“I know, I know. I'm not stupid, just angry. By the time we get out of quarantine everyone will already be off Tower Climbing Kael and onto something new. Half the fun is being there for the early seasons, before everything gets spoiled on the forums.”

With a sigh, Nerissa nodded, “Tell me about it.” She turned towards the navigational pod — a metallic egg, which wholly encased the mysterious astrogator that none of them had ever seen, or even heard. “Buddy, bring us into their drive emission shadow and disengage the Slip drive. Three minutes to realspace and launch.”

There was no acknowledgment, but the sound of the ship changed subtly, indicating that their reference frame time dilation was decreasing.

Three minutes later and Nerissa, Tegrin, and Samanta were all nestled into their launch tubes. Nerissa triggered her mic, “Quarantine or not, we've got a job to do, and we're going to do it. Non-lethal takedowns *only* unless outworlder origin is confirmed. You already know the rules of engagement — the bounty is for alive and unharmed only, with penalties for any empire citizens harmed or killed. Outworlders, however, are to be terminated with extreme prejudice. Get to the launch tubes and let's get it done, people.”

The launcher tubes rapidly depressurized — which signaled to Nerissa only seconds away. The others would only know from indicators inside their boarding pods, but the role of shipbreaker meant that Nerissa would be fired without the benefit of metal between herself and the harsh environment of space.

She was paid a double share of any bounty — and she earned it, at least in her estimation.

A moment later and her powerful legs were the only thing keeping her from being squished into the launch platform she ‘stood’ upon. Then, she was out among the stars, staring at unfamiliar constellations and a weak sun — at least compared to that of her home system.

The target ship had started too distant to see, but in only seconds it became visible, and then loomed large in her vision. She rotated, flexed her legs, and extended her talon-like claws, preparing to impact. Miss this, and she'd spin out into space — most likely never to be retrieved.

The pods of her companion bounty hunters were only meters away from her position to either side. Windowless and wickedly sharp, their job was simply to stick in the hull.

Her job was to break through it.

The moment of impact arrived, and her bioengineered legs absorbed the impact and held, though not without some damage to the softer tissues. Her claws had punctured the hull, and were all that was holding her in position. Two simultaneous thudding impacts could be felt through her legs as the companions arrived a fraction of a second later.

Nerissa reached down with her foreclaws and ignited the hull cutters she'd paid a small fortune to have installed. Molten metal spattered as she carved a lengthy gash in the hull. She cut a second, smaller one to form an oval patch, and then reached into the gap and tore the patch of hull away. It spiraled slowly out into space as Nerissa wedged her legs into the gap, and strained, stretching the hole.

Countermeasures meant to disable mechanical intrusion fired, waves of EMP that she could feel as a hot burning sensation on her bones — but all of her modifications were biotech. Sometimes the best way to defeat things was to go so low-tech that nobody would ever consider them a threat.

That's where they were wrong. And where she came in — literally.

The gravity that she could feel through the hull of the ship lessened, then vanished, as the local generators went offline, disabled by their own defensive systems. They weren't redundant, or shielded — gravity was a luxury in space, not a necessity.

Seven seconds after she'd impacted the hull, Nerissa was floating into the corridor of the ship. No atmosphere had outgassed upon her entry — no competent crew would ever leave compartments near the hull pressurized for no reason, and while Lumi — their target — might be subject to flights of fancy, she was no fool.

Nerissa looked up and down the visible bulkheads until she found what she was looking for. Two empowered fists were delivered into junction boxes in quick succession, and the power to the compartment was cut as the redundant circuits were severed — lights flickered off, and then emergency lighting sprang to life.

With surface defenses offline, it was time to move to the next stage of the assault; bring the rest of the team inside. Unlike her, they couldn't tolerate vacuum for long, and their pods were nothing more than metal canisters designed to deliver them and crucial equipment to the hull of the target intact and undamaged by the EMP defenses.

She found the penetration points to the sides of her original impact, where three metal triangles met and had punched through the hull. Igniting her cutters once again, she quickly carved a circular hole with a single sweep of her arm, then repeated the process.

Tegrin kicked the still-molten patch into the corridor first, followed by Samanta. Each of them had a small breathing mask in place, though Tegrin also wore goggles to protect his eyes. Nerissa waved two fingers, pointed down the corridor to the nearest hatch, and the team pushed off of the walls, traversing the twenty meters in only seconds.

Samanta landed on the door, and stuck to it. Her species' ability to generate electromagnetic fields naturally was an asset in this kind of operation. She found the door controls, slammed a hand down on it, and three seconds later the door was cycling open to an interstitial airlock.

With the deft motions of a practiced boarder, Tegrin swung around and entered the airlock first, followed by the other two; Samanta triggered the door to close.

A few seconds later the hissing of atmosphere became audible, and soon they'd be back in-atmosphere. Tegrin pulled off the goggles, but left the mask in place — just in case.

By Nerissa's reckoning the elapsed time was thirty-five seconds. She frowned slightly and made a mental note to schedule more time in the simulator when they got back aboard Daddy's Little Money-Sink. She appended a second note to actually get around to paying to change the ship designation; the prior captain had been dead for over seven years ship time, and she still winced every time she made a docking request.

A banging sound audible through the adjoining bulkhead brought Nerissa's attention back to the present.

The opposite door slid open suddenly, and two Nyanines wearing lightweight armor wielding energy blades rushed the airlock, swinging awkwardly as they stepped across the threshold and gravity weakened.

Tegrin went on all fours and launched himself through the legs of one of the guards, knocking her to the floor in the process. Samanta simply leapt over the swing and then failed to drop back down — that eddy current trick of hers never failed to impress Nerissa. Her dodge, however, meant that Nerissa had to handle the blade wielder. Which she did, by launching a powerful backhand — claws withdrawn and cutters quenched. Money was a powerful motivator, after all — and even a single accidental death could cost a serious portion of the profits.

Tegrin had turned and leapt to grapple the second guard from behind, placing her in a headlock as he snarled in her ear. The Nyanine dropped the energy blade, and it extinguished with a hiss and a pop. He reached behind and pulled out a pair of penitent cuffs, then snapped them into place, locking her hands beneath her neck in the pose they were named after. It was the best way they'd found to keep opponents with natural weaponry subdued over the years.

Everything seemed like it was going well until five more Nyanines, these in heavier armor, came around the corner twenty meters away. Nerissa could see only one energy blade. Two more seemed to be wielding standard swords — probably parade weapons they'd kept in their quarters. Two, however, had guns — one a pistol, type unknown. The other had a heavy blaster — illegal across the empire and absolutely unsafe in a ship like this where it could puncture through to the hull with ease.

“Tegrin! Primary target! Idiot in the back!” Nerissa shouted, as she dove for cover as the pistol wielder fired. A bolt of superheated plasma stuck to the hatch door above her head. It would only be immediately lethal if it hit a critical portion of anatomy, but the thought of watching bits of one's self boil away was a marvelous motivator to keep one's head down.

Samanta dropped from the ceiling, joining Nerissa behind the hatch. “Think he's got enough room?” was all the Elemantian said.

“We'll find out soon enough. Take the sword wielders, I'll take the other two?”

“Aye-aye, cap'n.”

“Oh, leave off it with the pirate thing. We went legit years ago.”

“Correction. *You* went legit. I never got caught.”

“Well, let's keep it that way. Go!”

Samanta dodged out of the airlock, her broad, flat body, limbs, and hands letting her stick to the metal floor, walls, and ceiling better than any gravity tile would. At the same time, Nerissa stepped out as well. Though her bulk meant that she wouldn't be dodging anything once she was in the hallway.

That was okay though — she didn't need to. Her job was to be the big obvious distraction. Judging by the reaction of the Nyanines as she roared and began to charge down the corridor, she still had it. And in this case ‘it’ was an eight hundred kilo mass advantage.

The two sword wielders brought their swings in first, leading the charge. Their swings suddenly turned slow and ponderous, as Samanta's flat limbs reached out towards them. The wielders tried to pull them away, but the swords would not move quickly, in any direction.

The pistoleer aimed a shot and there was a burning, sizzling sensation in Nerissa's lower abdomen. She resolved that he would find out just how far the no-major-injury clause in the contract stretched. But first, there was an energy blade duelist to deal with — something Samanta could not stop.

The duelist swung his blade through the space the two swordsmen had occupied only moments before; they'd left their weapons hanging in the air and run back down the hall. Cowards, Nerissa thought. The two swords dropped suddenly, and Samanta dodged out of the way of the energy weapon.

Nerissa felt the sudden shift in the surrounding air — and knew that Tegrin was getting into position. She swung a wild punch at the blade wielder, more to keep him distracted than anything, but the blow managed to glance off of him, sending him to the ground, spitting blood.

Unfortunately that gave the moron with the blaster a clear line of sight towards Nerissa and Samanta, and he pulled the trigger without stabilizing himself. The gun spat particles out at incomprehensible speeds, which tore through the bulkheads around Nerissa. She threw herself to one side — a largely futile effort, but it did mean that she only took a few grazing hits to her limbs, rather than having her torso perforated.

The oblique angle of the walls caused the shots to ricochet, rather than punch through, which was the only thing saving most of them from a messy death. Nerissa would have been fine either way, but she'd never have recovered from the financial penalties of losing half a ship on a simple snatch and grab.

The issue became moot a second later, as Tegrin got up to speed. Every shot following those first made it perhaps five meters, before it simply stopped in the air, then dropped to the ground. Samanta took the cue, and leapt forward toward the blaster, then discharged a tremendous arcing bolt of electricity that thundered in the tight confines. The overzealous shooter dropped the now-electrified weapon, but not quickly enough to avoid the aftereffects, and he began a decidedly un-merry jig as the electricity arced through him. Samanta reached him quickly and suddenly the remnants of the bolt vanished into her arms and hands, and he stopped jerking and fell to the ground.

Tegrin flashed back into visibility — his speed now back among the realm of the visible, and he reached forward and tapped the forehead of the pistoleer at only moderate speed. The man's neck whipped backwards, caught by Tegrin's other hand, and the Nyanine fell to the ground, unconscious.

The final remaining assailant put his hands in the air and started sobbing, “I give up. Don't hurt me, I'm only a sophomore.”

Not their best work, but it would do.

Three minutes later, and they were entering the bridge of the vessel, escorted by the profusely apologetic second-year. Nerissa pushed their ‘escort’ through ahead of them, who then stumbled to the side in his heavy armor. They were barely through the door when three Nyanines wearing what the Imperial Navy would generously classify as uniform-adjacent attire approached. The obvious leader was possessed of an instantly recognizable imperial bearing, with attitude to match.

Nerissa performed a quick tactical appraisal of the ‘command crew’.

One Mot, soon to be erstwhile Steward, recognizable from the dossier pictures provided by the royal family. Nerissa nodded only slightly towards her, and Samanta's hand buzzed slightly in readiness.

The second was a downcast Nyanine in an absolutely outrageous maid's outfit, clinging to the princess's arm; ears twitching and eyes darting to and fro.

And a furious princess Lumi, no pictures required as she'd been visible as part of the royal family and shown on broadcasts a hundred times a year since her birth. She was holding the family sword with all of the lack of skill a petulant young princess who refused to attend her sword-fighting lessons could muster, pointing it at Nerissa, as she spat with fury. “What is the meow'ning of this? I'm Pri— that is, Empress Lumi! I will see you in chains before the day is out!”

Nerissa raised her hands, to forestall any immediate thoughts of violence, then inclined her head at the leader of the group, “Princess.” Nerissa took note of the other bridge crew, all sitting or standing calmly with their hands in the air. Students at the Imperial Naval Academy adjacent to the Princess's boarding school, by their apparent ages, who'd made the poor life decision to accompany the Princess on her ill-conceived adventure. At least they were smart enough to know the game was up.

There were three others in colorful dresses rather than uniforms standing in the room, but Nerissa didn't recognize them, and they'd have to wait. They wielded weapons or something of the sort — accessories, more like. One of them reached down to the ground to pick up a rod with a star on it while Nerissa scanned the room. Nothing looked particularly dangerous except a sword the largest of the three — though that wasn't saying much — had sheathed across her back. She had an exasperated look on her face. Alien face or not, Nerissa knew that look — clearly, she'd already spent some time becoming acquainted with the Princess.

Nerissa looked left and right to Samanta and Tegrin. Tegrin looked quickly at the ceiling, and Samanta shook her head slightly to either side. The message was clear enough — ‘You're the boss, you handle it.’

“Princess Lumi. I have been sent by your mother, Empress of All that She Surveys, Guiding Star of the Galactic Federation, Grand Matriarch of the Seven Families.”

“And She who is Apparently Tired of Your Shit,” Samanta added, sotto voce.

Nerissa turned and gave her a ‘Do you want to handle this or not?’ look. Samanta turned away and began inspecting the same spot on the ceiling that had captured Tegrin's attention.

She continued, “As I was saying. Your mother says that playtime is over, and you are to, quote, ‘Get your ass back to boarding school before I lose my temper’. I have been authorized to place you into a stasis carrier if you are uncooperative.”

The steward, Mot, unwisely chose this moment to step forward and try to salvage the situation, “As Steward to the Princess—”

Nerissa had been waiting for this, and interrupted quickly, “Mot, is it? I have a special message for you. I'm paraphrasing here because the Empress was basically frothing at the mouth at this point in the briefing: You were supposed to watch the princess, not bed her. You're fired. Not only are you fired, but you are banished from the empire for a period of no less than ten years. Be on your best behavior, or it will become permanent. The Empress then listed a number of ways that it could become permanent. Would you like to hear them?”

Mot's defiance deflated in moments, and she looked down at the ground, “Ah, uh. No need for that.”

“What about me—ow?” The almost criminally under-dressed maid almost squeaked out.

“I don't know — who are you?”

Lumi, having been shocked to silence, found her voice at that moment. “This is Luna. My dearest darling. My most favored. I shall not be parted from her.”

Mot's head turned up at this, but Lumi shot her a look and the ex-steward went back to being fascinated by the floor tiles.

“I have no specific instructions regarding you. If the Princess wants to let you squeeze inside her stasis carrier, that's between you and her.”

Lumi sputtered for a moment, then turned and with a sweeping gesture indicated the three unknown sophonts wearing dresses, “What about natives?”

“The what?”

“The natives. Of this world?”

At this, both Tegrin and Samanta ceased their musings of the bridge architecture and immediately got back on the clock. They focused intently on the three colorful sophonts.

“Natives? Princess, the world below is registering a dimensional incursion. Outworlders. We have detected no significant civilization on the planet.”

“Hey now — let's not be hurtful,” The sword-bearing sophont spoke in response.

Nerissa turned to the Princess, “Hang on. You're saying there's an active civilization on an incursion world? Not just ruins?”

“I mean, it's not exactly the cleanest city in the world, but it's home.”

She turned to address the speaker, “Who are you again? You're a native? Do you have a sponsor species defending you from the incursions? How long have they been ongoing?”

“No, it's just us. We're the defenders.”

“Defenders? You're not just fleeing? What's your name?”

“Victoria. Magical Girl Victoria. Your Empress here was trying to offer us a governorship of the planet.”

“That's not hers to offer. But that's not important right now. So, tell me, how many of these outworlders have you killed?”

The native's face took on a serious cast, of the type that Nerissa knew well from experience, “Not enough.”

“But some?”

“Oh yes. That's how I ended up with this.” Nerissa watched as she hefted the sword from her back, a frown flickering across her face as she held it.

“Okay. This changes things. Princess? You're going back to my ship. Stasis or not, your choice. There's bounty to be earned on that planet, if it's not yet over-run with outworlders.”

The smaller of the three stepped forward, then. “Hi, I'm Rose, pleasure to meet you. So, um, what about this ship?”

Nerissa raised an eye ridge in response, “What about it?”

“Are you impounding it or something?”

“No, why would I do that? It's not my problem.”

“Well, then… can we… use it?”

“Again, not my problem. Work it out among yourselves.”

The smaller girl looked to the sword-bearer, and then to the attractive girl who had yet to speak. She was partially covered in sealing foam — some accident on board, perhaps?

She spoke now, leading with a small curtsy, “Magical Girl Ambassador Ornik, here. I believe you will toadally be interested in a proposition we would like to make, with regard to these outworlders.”