Tevun-Krus #10 - TKX: Best of 2014

Everyone Knows That Aliens Don't Exist: Decopunk

“Spartacus is in play,” said Harvey with a grin as he flicked the comms switch. “Y'gotta' three foot jump, Cap'n. I'd have got you closer but that bitch is pitched more awkward than a camp site at a rock festival.”

“That'll do, Harvey.” Bennet's voice came back tinnily over the comm. “What's the status of that Fed ship?”

“Four clicks, Cap'n,” Eva replied. “Gives you eight minutes.”

“More'n enough,” he said with a chuckle. “Bennet out.”

The seconds passed in silence as together, Eva and Harvey watched two heat signatures move from one vessel to the other, and set about exploring the vessel.

“So what d'you reckon, Eva? We've got about six minutes...”

“Ain't gonna' happen, Harvey, so cut it out.”

“Don't say I didn't offer,” the young man replied with a chuckle.

“No offence, Harv, but I reckon I'll forget that you did...”

“Your loss,” he muttered, although he was almost certain he did so quietly enough that Eva failed to hear.

“Fed ship's a click and a half out, what's their status?”

“Looks like they're making their way back to the hole. Should be a' knockin' any second.”

Sure enough, several seconds later a light on the console indicated the airlock had been activated from the outside.

“As soon as they're in get us outta' here, Harvey,” she said, flicking the comm to communicate with the engine room. “Acer... we're gonna' need full burn without the light show. Capisce?”

“Gotcha', Eva,” Acer's voice came back, and Eva smiled. There were few in Sol better acquainted with engines than he. Bennet was lucky his mechanic had spent most of his life stoned out of his tree on whatever he could find to smoke, else it's quite likely he would have been fast-tracked through the Federation Academy.

“What the actual fuck?” Bennet demanded as he and Morgan, still fully suited less their helmets, stormed onto the bridge. “When I leave you in command that don't mean you get to ignore my bloody communications!”

“What're you talking about, Bennet?” Eva asked, peering around the man to see that her sister's face wore a similarly annoyed expression. “You didn't make contact.”

“She's right,” said Harvey, pulling up the Spartacus' communications log on the screen beside him as he guided the vessel single-handedly. “Not a bean, Cap'n.”

“Well didn't you think to make contact after, oh I dunno, the eight minutes that we had was up?”

“Still got thirty seconds, Cap'n, according to that time frame.”

“Don't talk shit!” Morgan yelled, all thoughts of the precious cargo left by the wayside. “We were on that hell-hole of a ship for almost three hours!”

“Ship time's 1521,” said Harvey with a shrug, pointing the Spartacus towards Charon. As the nearest stellar body, it was the logical choice when it came to searching for something to hide behind.

“What the fuck does my watch say, Harvey?” Bennet asked, irritably, as he struggled out of his suit and held his forearm out for the pilot to see.

“1832, clear as day,” he replied.

“Some kind of time dilation?” Eva asked, as Bennet slapped his hand to his forehead in a semi-comedic fashion.

“Particle accelerator, for fuck's sake...” he muttered.