Page 36 of Across The Stars
“Don’t say that. Get us out of here.”
“What do you want me to do? That’s a fucking alien ship and it’s a tank. This is a passenger shuttle meant to bring people from a ship to a planet. That’s it!”
“So you’re going to let them kill us? Or abduct us? Are we getting probed? What do we do?”
“We sit. Let them come to us, the bastards.”
She slouched back in her seat, crossing her arms like a teenage girl arguing with her mother, and propped one leg on the control panel. I went stiff with uncertainty, wishing I could come up with a solution that didn’t include being blown to bits or kidnapped by a hostile race of aliens. Surprisingly, the ship hovered there for some time and I could only imagine a bunch of big-headed ETs sadistically laughing at us. What did an intelligent race of aliens want with humans? Were we going to get abducted and sold into slavery? Killed? Dissected?
“Valerian vessel en rout to these coordinates,” Zen announced.
“Or not,” Quinn said, her interest reinvigorated. She leaned forward over the control panel to observe scanner readings. “Shit. They’re actually coming.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, unbuckling my belts to walk on wobbly legs to look at the scanners.
“Looks like someone got our distress call,” Quinn said. “Zen, how far are they?”
“The Irlos is fifteen minutes from your location,” he answered.
“Fifteen minutes, huh?” She started swiping and poking at the controls again.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Trying to buy time.”
“We don’t even know if they’re going to attack.”
Looking up, I saw two, cylindrical canons extend from the front of the large ship. Quinn groaned.
“Yeah,” she said. “Zen, scan their weaponry.”
“I’m reading high-energy charges that could disable all electrical functions on this ship.”
“They want to strand us. Which means they’re not trying to kill us. New plan.”
“New plan? Was there an old plan?”
“Go to the back and look for space suits.”
I unbuckled myself and stood before I realized what that meant. “Really? What? No. I can’t—"
“We need time. The Irlos won't get here before…” She paused as the shuttle jerked violently, knocking me onto the floor.
“What was that?” I said.
“That,” Quinn sighed. “Was a tractor beam. They’re pulling us in.”
“We’re going to get probed!”
“Not today!” Quinn yelled. “Zen, do something.”
“There is nothing I can do,” Zen said. “This shuttle is for commercial use and does not have the necessary power to disengage. I recommend non-threatening communication tactics. I am programmed to activate them if needed.”
“You mean beg for our lives and let them take the ship?” Quinn grumbled, tapping her fingers rapidly over the screens again.
All the while, Sam was in the back, her head swaying back and forth like she was seasick. Turning toward Quinn, I saw her angry, pursed lips and anxiously climbed back into my chair and held on.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
