Stellar Debts and Spicy Jets

Chapter 7: Drone Defense

"Get to the cockpit. I’ll handle the welcoming committee," Odette snapped, her voice already regaining that razor-sharp edge, though her lips were still swollen from his kisses.

"Can I at least put on my socks? Frostbite is a very unsexy look for me, Odette! I have a reputation to uphold!" Felix scrambled across the cargo floor, his bare feet slapping against the freezing metal.

"Your reputation is 'Dead Man Walking' if you don’t move! Now!" She kicked a stray drone-sensor that had poked through a gap in the hull, sending a shower of sparks over Felix’s head.

"Okay, okay! Moving! Why are the scary ones always so bossy after a romantic night in?" Felix ducked into the narrow corridor, fumbling with the zipper of his flight suit while hopping on one foot.

"I heard that, Starling! And for the record, it wasn't romantic, it was a tactical necessity!" Odette yelled back, followed by the wet shing of her blade leaving its sheath.

"Tactical necessity? My back has carpet burn that says otherwise!" Felix reached the cockpit, sliding into the pilot's chair which felt like an ice block against his skin. "Come on, baby, wake up for Daddy. Don't let the mean robots eat us."

A heavy thud echoed from the cargo bay, followed by a series of rapid-fire metallic clangs.

"Felix! They’re inside! There’s dozens of them!" Odette’s voice was strained. "And they’re not just drones, they’re Mark IV Scrappers! They have plasma cutters for hands!"

"Dozens? That’s not a welcoming committee, that’s a flash mob!" Felix shouted, frantically tapping the dead consoles. "The auxiliary power is stuck in a loop because of that stunt we pulled with the drive! I can’t get the internal turrets to prime!"

"Then do something else! I’m a little busy being a human kebab over here!"

Felix checked the internal feed. Odette was a blur of silver and black, dancing through the dark cargo bay. She had pinned a drone against a crate with her boot, her knife buried in its optical sensor, but three more were crawling down from the ceiling. One of them lunged, its jagged pincer catching the sleeve of her bodysuit and dragging her toward the jagged hole in the hull.

"Odette! Get down!" Felix screamed.

"I’m trying! It’s got my- ugh!" She hit the deck hard, her silver hair whipping around her face as she kicked at the machine. "Felix! The engine! If you can’t fly it, blow the secondary coolant line! It’ll flash-freeze the bay!"

"If I do that, you’ll turn into an Odette-shaped popsicle!" Felix yelled, his heart hammering against his ribs. "I’m not losing my favorite assassin to a glorified vacuum cleaner!"

"Better a popsicle than scrap metal! Just do it!"

"No! I’ve got a better idea! A worse one, but better!" Felix dived under the pilot’s console, ripping away a panel and exposing a tangle of glowing, violet-stained wires. "Hey, Odette? Remember that 'Harmonic Sync' thing? How much do you trust my ability to not kill us both?"

"On a scale of one to ten? Zero! Negative ten!" She grunted, slamming her elbow into a drone’s chassis. "Why are you asking now?"

"Because the drive is still bridged to the ship’s core! If I can manually override the pulse, I can turn the whole ship into a giant EMP! But it’s going to be... well, it's going to be loud!"

"Just do it! They’re everywhere!"

Felix grabbed two high-voltage leads, his hands shaking. "Okay. On three? No, let’s just go with 'now'!"

He slammed the leads together. The result wasn't a spark; it was a physical punch of energy. The violet light from the drive, still sitting in its crate in the bay, exploded into a blinding supernova. Felix felt the air get sucked out of his lungs as the "Sync" flared one last time, a ghost of Odette’s pain and adrenaline surging through his own nerves.

"Felix!" Odette’s scream was cut short by a massive, bone-rattling BOOM.

The ship went pitch black. The screaming of the drones stopped instantly. The only sound was the heavy, rhythmic thumping of Felix’s heart and the distant, metallic clink of dead machines hitting the floorboards.

"Odette?" Felix rasped, his eyes swimming with purple spots. "You still a person? Or are you a very pretty ghost?"

Silence.

"Odette! This isn't funny! If you’re dead, I’m going to be so ticked off!" Felix scrambled toward the cargo bay, tripping over a pile of dead drones in the dark. "Odette!"

"Will you... shut up... for five seconds?"

He found her slumped against a crate, her chest heaving. She was covered in grey hydraulic fluid and soot, her bodysuit torn at the shoulder, but her eyes were open.

"You’re alive," Felix breathed, falling to his knees beside her. "I thought I fried you."

"You almost did," she whispered, her hand reaching out to grab his collar. She pulled him close, her forehead resting against his. "My brain feels like it was put in a blender. What did you do?"

"I overloaded the auxiliary power through the drive's lattice," Felix said, a shaky laugh escaping him. "It sent out a localized EMP. Every drone on this ship just had their brains turned into soup."

"And the ship?" Odette asked, her gaze drifting toward the dead monitors.

Felix looked around. The Rusty Pelican was silent. No hum of life support. No flicker of emergency lights. Just the cold, oppressive silence of a dead rock in space.

"Well," Felix said, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the woman who had just shared his soul and his bed. "The good news is, the drones are dead. The bad news is... I think I fried the main computer. And the navigation. And probably the toaster."

Odette looked at him, her expression unreadable in the shadows. "So, let me get this straight. We’re on a frozen moon, in the middle of a restricted war zone, with no power, no heat, and a ship that is currently a very expensive paperweight?"

"To be fair, it’s a very cool-looking paperweight," Felix offered with a weak, lopsided grin.

Odette didn't scream. She didn't reach for her knife. She just leaned her head back against the crate and let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Felix?"

"Yeah?"

"If we don't freeze to death in the next hour, I’m going to find a way to make you pay for that toaster."

"Fair enough," Felix whispered, moving closer to her, wrapping his arms around her to share the last of their fading warmth. "But hey, look on the bright side. At least we have plenty of 'tactical' time to work on our compatibility."

"I hate you," she murmured, though she tucked her head under his chin.

"I know," he smiled, kissing the top of her messy, silver hair. "I love the honesty in this relationship."