Stargrave's Guide to Galactic Blunders

Chapter 4: Diplomacy is for Dummies

"Then step on it, Cassian! Before the Ambassador starts thinking we’re ghosting her!"

Orion gripped the back of the pilot’s seat as the Star-Skipper’s engines gave a terminal-sounding wheeze before kicking into a high-pitched whine. The stars outside the viewport stretched into long, neon ribbons of light.

"I’m stepping, Orion! But just so you know, the 'Toaster-Powered Sensor Array' is currently vibrating at a frequency that’s making my teeth numb!" Cassian shouted over the roar of the thrusters.

"That just means it’s working!" Orion yelled back. "Lyra, status on the Aurelia?"

Lyra was strapped into the tactical station, her hands flying across a keyboard that looked far too clean for this ship. "They’re holding, but barely. I’m picking up five—no, six pirate drones circling the transport. They’re picking at the shields like vultures."

"Alright, crew, listen up," Orion said, trying to find his 'Captain’s Voice' while the floor vibrated violently. "We’re going in quiet. Stealth is the name of the game. We slip in, grab the Ambassador, and slip out before they even know we were there."

"Orion, this ship is currently trailing a cloud of purple goat hair and smelling like burnt sourdough," Lyra said, casting a flat look over her shoulder. "We have the stealth capabilities of a supernova."

"Trust the vision, Lyra! Cassian, drop us out of warp behind that moon fragment. We’re going ghost."

The Star-Skipper lurched out of hyperspace with a bone-jarring thud. Ahead of them, the Aurelia sat dead in the water, surrounded by sleek, black drones that looked like mechanical wasps.

"Okay, ghost mode initiated," Cassian muttered. "By which I mean I’ve turned off the exterior lights and I’m holding my breath."

"Perfect," Orion whispered. "Vela, get the manual grappling hook ready. I’m going to personally secure the umbilical."

"The manual one?" Vela’s voice came over the comms. "The one with the rusty winch and the trigger that sticks?"

"It’s more personal that way! Ronan, grab your rifle. Lyra, you’re with me. We’re boarding."

"I have a very bad feeling about this," Lyra sighed, unbuckling her restraints and grabbing a pulse-pistol.

Orion led the way to the airlock, hauling the oversized, pneumatic grappling launcher onto his shoulder. He looked like a man who had seen too many action holos and understood none of the physics. As the Star-Skipper drifted toward the Aurelia’s darkened hull, Orion peered through the manual targeting scope.

"Just a little closer... steady... and... bingo!"

Orion pulled the trigger.

The grappling hook didn't fire with a hiss; it fired with a sound like a cannon going off. The recoil sent Orion flying backward into Lyra, pinning her against the bulkhead. The heavy titanium claw soared through the vacuum, missing the Aurelia’s reinforced docking ring by a good ten feet.

Instead, it slammed directly into a protruding fuel pod on the ship’s exterior.

BOOM.

A massive fireball erupted from the side of the Aurelia, lighting up the darkness of the Veridian Belt like a second sun. The Star-Skipper rocked violently as the shockwave hit them.

"Orion!" Lyra screamed, pushing him off her. "You just blew up their secondary reserves!"

"I... I was aiming for the latch!" Orion scrambled to his feet, wide-eyed.

"You hit the only explosive part of the ship!"

"Look on the bright side," Orion said, pointing out the window as the pirate drones began swarming toward the explosion. "The drones are distracted! Stealth by diversion! Let’s go!"

"That wasn't a diversion, that was a felony!"

They didn't have time to argue. Cassian swung the ship around, slamming the Star-Skipper’s nose into the Aurelia’s docking port with all the grace of a sledgehammer. The seal hissed, and Orion kicked the door open before it was even fully pressurized.

"Ambassador! Don't worry! Your ride is—"

Orion stopped dead in the main corridor of the Aurelia. The hallway was lined with black-clad mercenaries holding heavy disruptors. At the far end, sitting comfortably in a high-backed command chair that definitely didn't belong on a diplomatic transport, was a man in a coat made of shimmering, synthetic tiger fur.

"Orion Stargrave," the man said, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. "I should have known that explosion had your signature stupidity all over it."

Orion’s face went pale, then turned a sharp shade of indignant red. "Darius Nebulon. I thought I smelled cheap cologne and failure."

"Darius?" Lyra asked, stepping up beside Orion with her gun raised. "This is the 'scourge of the sector' you told me about?"

"The one and only," Darius said, standing up and smoothing his coat. He ignored Orion entirely, his eyes locking onto Lyra. "And who is this exquisite creature? Orion, don't tell me you’ve kidnapped a member of the Galactic Elite. She’s far too dignified to be seen with a man who still has grease under his fingernails."

"She’s my First Officer, Darius! And she’s not interested in whatever oily lines you’re about to drop," Orion snapped, stepping in front of Lyra.

"First Officer?" Darius chuckled, stepping forward. The mercenaries tightened their grips on their weapons. "My dear, I’m Darius. If you’re tired of living on a flying trash can, my ship has a heated pool and a wine cellar that isn't stocked with 'protein slush.'"

"The 'trash can' has a name, and it’s currently the only thing between you and a very long walk in a vacuum," Lyra said, her voice like ice.

"Ooh, she has teeth," Darius purred. "I like her, Orion. Can I keep her? I’ll trade you the Ambassador. She’s been nothing but a headache anyway."

"You aren't trading anything!" Orion shouted. "Where is Calista?"

A door behind Darius slid open, and Ambassador Calista Solenne was pushed out by a guard. She looked remarkably composed, though her hair was slightly frayed.

"Captain Stargrave," she said, her voice dry. "I appreciate the rescue, though I could have done without the structural damage to my ship."

"See? She’s fine," Darius said, waving a hand dismissively. "Now, let’s talk business. Or rather, let’s talk about why you’re really here, Orion. It’s not for the lady, is it? You’re looking for the same thing I am."

"I don't know what you’re talking about," Orion said, though his eyes flickered nervously.

"Oh, please. The map? The one that leads to the Vault of the First Stars?" Darius stepped closer, his smile fading into something sharper. "I know it’s not on the Aurelia. I’ve searched every byte of their data."

"Well, you wasted your time," Orion said. "Because I don't have it either."

"True," Darius mused. "But I think you know where it is. And since my drones are currently hacking into your ship’s systems while we speak, I’ll find out soon enough."

"Cassian!" Orion barked into his comms. "Are you seeing this?"

"Yeah, Cap, we’ve got a digital breach!" Cassian’s voice came through, sounding frantic. "These drones are good! They’re bypassing my firewalls like they aren't even there!"

"Lyra, do something!" Orion hissed.

"I’m on it," Lyra whispered back. She tapped a few commands into her wrist-comm, her eyes darting between the mercenaries and the screen. "I need a distraction, Orion. I can counter-hack them, but I need three minutes of uninterrupted signal."

"Three minutes?" Orion looked at the dozen guns pointed at them. "Okay. I can do three minutes. Darius! You want to talk? Let’s talk about that time in the Rigel System! Let’s talk about the betrayal! The drama! The fashion choices!"

Darius blinked, looking confused. "The Rigel System? Orion, that was ten years ago."

"It was a defining moment for our rivalry!" Orion began to pace, waving his arms theatrically. "You see, Darius, the problem with men like you is that you lack the soul of a true explorer. You look at the stars and see credits. I look at the stars and see... well, mostly darkness, but also potential! And goats! Did I tell you about the goats?"

"Goats?" Darius asked, his brow furrowing. "What are you talking about?"

"The Space-Goats of Andromeda!" Orion continued, his voice rising in volume. "They represent the chaotic nature of the universe! Much like my leadership style! You think you’re in control because you have a fancy coat and a few drones? Control is an illusion, Darius! It’s like a sandwich—you think you’ve got a grip on it, but then the mayo squirts out the back and hits your favorite shirt!"

"Is he having a stroke?" one of the mercenaries whispered.

"No, he’s just... Orion," Lyra muttered, her fingers blurring across her screen.

"And another thing!" Orion shouted, pointing a finger at Darius’s chest. "Your hair! We need to talk about the product you’re using! It’s too stiff! It lacks the wind-swept, roguish charm of a man who actually flies his own ship! You look like a statue in a lobby!"

"Enough!" Darius roared, his face turning purple. "Kill them! Kill them all!"

"Now, Lyra!" Orion yelled, diving behind a decorative vase.

"Done!" Lyra shouted.

Every drone outside the ship suddenly veered wildly to the left, their thrusters firing at maximum output. They slammed into each other in a chaotic tangle of metal, exploding in a spectacular chain reaction. Simultaneously, the lights on the Aurelia flickered and died, plunging the corridor into darkness.

"Grab the Ambassador! Run!" Orion yelled.

In the confusion, Orion lunged forward, grabbed Calista’s arm, and hauled her toward the docking port. Lyra provided cover fire, the blue bolts of her pistol lighting up the dark hallway.

"You won't get away with this, Stargrave!" Darius’s voice echoed through the ship. "I’ve already seen what’s in your logs!"

They scrambled back onto the Star-Skipper, the airlock hissing shut just as a hail of disruptor fire hit the door.

"Cassian, get us out of here! Punch it!" Orion scrambled into the cockpit.

"Way ahead of you, Cap!"

The Star-Skipper roared to life, pulling away from the Aurelia with a violent jerk. They spiraled through the debris of the drones and vanished into the asteroid field, leaving the pirate ship far behind.

Ten minutes later, the crew gathered on the bridge. Ambassador Calista sat in the co-pilot’s seat, looking remarkably unfazed for a woman who had just been rescued from a pirate king.

"Thank you, Captain," she said, smoothing her robes. "Though I must say, your distraction technique was... unique."

"It’s a gift," Orion said, leaning back and trying to look cool despite the sweat on his forehead. "So, about that map Darius mentioned?"

Lyra stepped forward, her face pale. She was holding a tablet, her eyes fixed on the screen.

"Orion," she said, her voice trembling. "Darius wasn't lying. He didn't just hack us to be annoying. He was looking for something specific."

"And?"

"He found it," Lyra said, turning the screen around. "It wasn't in our logs, and it wasn't in the cargo manifest. It’s encoded in the ship’s own hull-vibration patterns. Orion... there’s a map hidden inside the Star-Skipper itself. We’ve been flying on top of a treasure map this whole time."

Orion stared at the screen, his mouth hanging open. "My ship? My beautiful, falling-apart ship is a map?"

"And Darius has the coordinates now," Lyra said. "He’s going to the first waypoint. And if we don't get there first, he’s going to find the Vault."

Orion looked out at the stars, a slow, manic grin spreading across his face.

"Well then," Orion whispered. "I guess we’d better see how much more 'character' this ship has left."