Survivor

Saff

Copyright 2014 Saff

Published by Saffron Bryant at Smashwords

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CHAPTER ONE

Another shockwave rocked the bounty hunter vessel, Crusader,
and sent shudders through the metal hull. The old ship vibrated as
the engines struggled. The ship was big enough for one person to
work and live in, but only just.

Nova grabbed the nearest handhold. Red
lights flashed above her head and a low siren wailed. Her black
hair created a pool of darkness in the bright lights. Her violet
eyes sparkled as they took in the emergency messages flashing
across her screen.

She struggled to stay upright in the rocking
ship. "What was that?"

She looked at Cal, the Class Four Labourbot.
He hovered in mid-air, unaffected by the quaking ship. His
spherical, metal body was the size of a large melon. The single
camera lens that functioned as his eye roved around the control
board, taking in the dials and readings.

"Fuel cell explosion detected," Cal
said.

"What do you mean the fuel cell
exploded?"

Nova's white knuckles clutched tighter as
another shockwave rocked the ship. Her body whipped sideways, and
her hip slammed into the nearest wall. She winced as tendrils of
pain shot through her leg. Tears stung the corners of her eyes.

"Dammit!" Her thick boots thumped on the
metal as she pulled herself up off the floor.

"The last collection we made must have been
sabotaged. Explosives have blown a hole through the fuel cell."

Nova glared at the robot. Red warning lights
flashed through the room and lit up Cal's panels. The ship's
control board glowed with warning lights. Pressure gauges, heat
gauges, fuel gauges, all of them pushed into the red zone, making
the alarms wail louder. If they didn't sort it out soon, the ship
was going to blow.

"Cal, can you fix it? At least well enough
to get us home?"

"I can patch it up but it would never last
all the way to The Jagged Maw."

"At least tell me we've got enough left to
pay for repairs."

"Negative. The ship's maintenance scan
reveals that the explosion cut a hole in the side of the cargo pod.
Whatever we had is now in a trail behind us."

"So we've got nothing?"

"Affirmative."

"Please tell me that wasn't the same cargo
pod that had my weapons in it."

"I'm afraid it was."

"Grishnak!" Nova cursed.

"Swearing won't help our situation," Cal
said.

She clenched her teeth and glared around the
control pod for any kind of solution.

"Why the hell would someone do that?"

"My scenario simulators suggest they plan to
follow behind us and collect it."

"Why can't the bastards find their own damn
jobs?"

"Human behaviour continues to baffle
me."

Nova's teeth ground together. She clenched
her hands into tight fists. If she ever got hold of whoever had
done this…

Another shudder forced her to latch on to
the handhold.

"Get back there and fix the fuel cells. And
make sure the airlock holds."

Cal hovered away.

"Crusader!" Nova said. "Stop that
alarm!"

The alarms cut short and were replaced with
the rumbling and rattling of the old ship, as the thrusters
choked.

"This is Aart's fault," she said to herself,
thinking over the last twenty-four hours.

It had all been going so smoothly. Aart's
info on a good haul proved better than expected. The drop had been
easy; the goods had practically fallen into their laps. Even Aart
couldn't have predicted how good the take would be. Now here she
was, stranded, with nothing to show for it.

Crusader's smooth voice cut through Nova's
thoughts. "The labourbot is damaged."

Nova's head whipped up. "What?"

She didn't wait for a response. Letting go
of her handhold, she sprinted out of the command pod. The ship
jolted and her body was hurled into the wall. Her shoulder and side
exploded with pain. Grazes stung her arm and dribbled blood. She
stumbled and leant against the wall. She took a deep breath and
limped forward. Agony shot up her side with every step but she
pushed on.

It was only a small distance to the engine
room. Pipes and wires crowded close to her head. Each wall was
covered in panels and drawers which opened into storage holds and
cargo pods. The air stunk of oil and burning plastic. Dripping
echoed through the close confines.

It felt like her heart was in her throat as
she ducked under the machinery and hurried to the back where the
fuel cells were pouring their contents onto the floor.

Cal lay in a flammable puddle. Black burns
charred his panels and all of his lights were off.

"Dammit!" Nova said.

She fell to her knees by the robot's side.
She pulled him away from the leaking fuel. He was hot to the
touch.

"Systems critical. The fuel cells must be
repaired," Crusader said. "Sealant from compartment four-b will be
sufficient."

Nova reluctantly left Cal's side. She opened
the small drawer labelled four-b and rummaged inside. Her hand
brushed over glue sticks and a welding gun. Something sharp caught
her finger and slashed it open.

She yanked her hand out of the drawer. A
deep cut poured blood out of her middle finger and loose flesh hung
on either side of the wound. Pain coursed through Nova's hand. It
got worse with every beat of her heart. Her finger throbbed.

She wrapped her other hand over the cut and
winced. Blood seeped out around her palm.

"Shit. Shit. Shit."

She cast around for anything to stop the
bleeding.

"Cal! Can you-" Her eye caught the
motionless robot and she remembered why she was there in the first
place. "Oh dammit!"

"Compartment three," Crusader said.

Nova tucked her injured hand to her chest
and used her other hand to open compartment three. It was much
tidier than the other drawer and full of first aid supplies. She
yanked out a bandage.

She used her good hand and her teeth to wrap
the bandage around her finger. It turned bright red in an instant.
She wrapped the bandage until a ball of cloth surrounded her
finger. She slammed compartment three closed.

She ground her teeth together and stomped to
compartment four-a. This time she pulled the knives out of the way
before shoving her hand deep into the drawer. She found the sealant
wedged at the very back.

She pulled it out and stepped over the
puddle. She shook the tube and took off the lid. She squeezed the
grey gel over the spurting hole in the fuel cell. It absorbed and
hardened, forming a coat over the leak. It would buy them some
time.

It wasn't the first time Nova had repaired a
ship. She'd grown up fixing the rusted machinery she found lying
around the dirty streets of her home world. Nova was born on
Tabryn, an orphan left on the steps of one of the city's many
brothels. The house mother, Roxanne, ran an orphanage from the same
building. That was where Nova grew up and learnt how to
survive.

There weren't many ways to survive on
Tabryn.

Roxanne always told Nova that she either had
to learn to spread her legs or learn to fight. Nova chose to fight.
When she was older, she made some money in mech fighting. Before
any of that, she repaired robots and machinery. Things were always
breaking down on Tabryn and children were cheap labour.

When she was seven years old, Nova was
almost crushed by a loose drill arm. She'd gone inside the
multifunction mining machine to repair a busted pipe and the whole
thing collapsed. She was lucky to crawl out of the wreckage
alive.

She knew Crusader better than anyone; she
was the one who had fixed the beaten up wreck and turned it into a
functional ship. She'd picked it up cheap, battered, and broken
after a drunk-driver crashed it into Tabryn's desert. It had taken
a long time, but with Cal's help, she put the ship together again,
and it was her ticket away from her hated home planet. Crusader and
Cal were the reason she was still alive. They'd given her her
freedom.

"The labourbot's backup systems will fail
soon," Crusader said. "Immediate action is recommended."

Nova turned back to the burnt robot. She
carried him to a workbench and set him down. The bench was squeezed
in amongst the other machinery. It was only meant for emergency
repairs; this seemed like the right time.

She held her injured finger out of the way
as best she could and lifted the outer panels away to reveal the
inner workings. The tiny chips and wires fit perfectly around the
motor. Each mechanical section moved in tandem with the rest of the
robot. The parts came together to create an ingenious whole.

The smooth-running machinery was severely
damaged. A gear clicked over in an uneven rhythm as it strained to
keep the robot's core functions going. Smoke hissed out from the
motor and created acrid fumes.

Nova had to crane her neck forwards to see
into Cal's inner workings. Blood rushed to her head and her neck
screamed in protest. Her eyes were the worst of all; they stung
from the onslaught of smoke and fumes. Tears poured down her face.
She blinked furiously.

She wanted nothing more than to slump down
into her chair with a hard drink, but she couldn't do that to
Cal.

The process of reattaching wires was
painstaking. Nova's hands shook with the pressure. Every now and
again she ripped her eyes away from Cal to check the fuel cells.
For the moment they were holding together, but how much longer
would they last?

She gritted her teeth. "Crusader, how are
those cells?"

"Probability analysis suggests they will
fail."

"Yes, but when?"

"Between one hour and three days."

"You can't give me anything better than
that?"

Nova bit her lip and took a deep breath. The
worst thing she could do right now was lose her cool. Staying in
control was the only way to save herself and Cal. If she didn't do
it for herself, then she had to do it for Cal. He'd been her
faithful companion from the start, right from that first journey
into the unknown.

"Negative," Crusader said.

Nova shook her head and went back to work.
The race was on. With every passing moment, more of Cal's systems
shut down. The motor was slowing down. It wouldn't be long before
it stopped completely and his systems would go into total shutdown.
She could always reprogram him, but it wouldn't really be Cal
anymore.

His quirky personality would be replaced
with the factory presets. The boring monotone voices would be no
replacement for Cal's brand of personality. Sure, he was a robot,
but at least he understood her. Their connection had been formed
over years of living together. No factory preset could do that.

Soot and grime covered her fingers. Streaks
of oil traced up her arms, all the way to her elbows. The grey
shirt she wore was covered in fuel and dirt; she wiped her forehead
on her sleeve. The engine room was hot, especially with the failing
fuel cells. Sweat dripped in front of Nova's eyes from her
forehead. The metal rod she was trying to reattach dropped out of
her slippery hands. She cursed and wiped them desperately on her
long pants before returning her attention to Cal.