The Navigator

Numen

Numen

"Prepare for final warp, everyone!" Hubbell called out.

Dr. Fox scrambled for his seat and buckled in, dreading what was coming. He had withstood six jumps, each slightly easier, physically anyway. But each was harder psychologically. It must be the anticipation that made it worse, he surmised.

The warp hit and he went limp, head lolling. He felt drool dribble from the corner of his mouth. Gah! This was so humiliating. Everyone else was already beginning to come around and he was still slobbering like a baby. Focusing, he willed his head to raise.

His hand responded as well, although more forcefully than he had intended. Instead of wiping away the slobber, he smacked himself roughly. Willing his body to respond, he tried again, this time finding the mark and wiping away an embarrassing amount of drool.

"Scanning system," Emma informed them. "It seems we may have compa..."

She was cut off by an ear-splitting screech followed by static. The broadcast silenced as Emma closed her eyes.

"We've been jammed. Just before I lost sensors, I picked up a weapons lock," she said gravely.

"Shit!" Hubbell cried, working the ship's controls.

"Communication coming through," Emma interrupted.

"On screen, Emma," Reese instructed.

An image flickered into view on the main screen. A lizard-like face greeted them, its green scales glistening in a dim light. The reptilian Thevars were one of the many brutish races that made up the Crevak Tribes. While only a former shadow of their power during the Millennium Wars, they were still formidable foes.

"We are the Grishnosh of the Crevak Tribes, and we claim your valuables!" the creature exclaimed, growling at the end.

"Hahaha," Hubbell bellowed sarcastically. "Hello Numen. I'm surprised to find you here. I guess the heat was too much for you? Had to flee Consortium space, did you? Like a coward, eh?"

"Hubbell," was his growled reply.

"Aren't you happy to see me, old buddy?" she taunted.

Dr. Fox had to admit that he was terrified. They had just reached their destination and already they were in danger. Boy would his mother be upset if she knew.

"Doodaloodooloo," his QET rang.

What?! His mother was calling now? It rang again and Hubbell glared at him. He tried to silence it but accidentally answered.

"Hi bubbala, how's your trip? Are you there yet? Is Dr. Phillips pretty?"

"Mother, not now! I'm kind of busy," he replied in a loud whisper.

"So, Hubbell, what's it going to be?" Numen said menacingly. "Are you going to let me in to claim my prize or do I have to reduce you to debris?"

"You can try to do either, but you'll get the same result as the last time we tangled," she said hotly.

"What's going on, bubbala? Sounds like arguing. Is everything ok?" his mother said, concern coloring her voice.

"It's okay mother, everything is fine," he lied. "I have to go now."

"That's nice dear. I saved the leftovers for you. I made moldova steak, I know it's your favorite," she went on as if she hadn't heard him.

"Listen Numen, you've got two choices. One, fuck off." She held up her fist and extended her thumb. "Or two, be disintegrated," she continued, extending her middle finger. "Your choice." She finished, steel edging her voice.

She hit a button and the screen went dark.

"We need a weapon," Hubbell exclaimed. "Or at least the appearance of one. Reese? Any ideas?"

"Emma, open the core on the hadronic generator. Increase output to max and reroute the exhaust through the maneuvering jets. Equal distribution so we don't change course," Reese replied quickly.

Emma responded a moment later. "The output signature now mimics a proton torpedo, Reese."

"So, bubbala, how is the trip so far?" his mother asked. He had almost forgotten she was there.

"Mother, I have to go. We're really busy here," he whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" she whispered back.

Hubbell flicked the button and Numen's image reappeared. He snarled and said, "Don't ever put me on hold again, Hubbell. The only reason I didn't blast you to pieces was so I could see your face while I..."

A garbled, guttural language sounded behind Numen. He spun on one of his crew at a nearby station. "What?! They have proton torpedoes?"

The brutish ogre behind him spoke again. Numen's face darkened.

"Yes, Numen. We've got one ready to fire. We picked up your coordinates prior to your jamming. We're locked on, you asshole," Hubbell said triumphantly, winking at Reese.

"No way, you can't have any weapons, that's a civilian-class starship. Completely unarmed."

"What are they talking about, bubbala, what's that about unarmed starships?" his mother cut in.

"Mother, I said I've got to go," he urged.

He knew he couldn't tell her what was really going on. She'd have a coronary if she only knew. Hell, he was terrified himself. He reached for the disconnect button but pulled back. He knew if he hung up on her she would just continue to call back until he picked up again. She was persistent and tenacious like that.

Numen glared and grimaced, revealing a mouth full of sharp, needle-like teeth.

"Mutually assured destruction, buddy," Hubbell taunted. "You piss off or we fire, understood?"

"Next time, Hubbell. Next time you won't be so lucky. I'm going to feast on your flesh, while you still live," Numen snarled, killing the communications feed.

"Sensors restored, enemy ship has warped away," Emma informed them.

"Okay, mother, bye," he said, hoping she would acquiesce.

"Okay bubbala, be safe," she finished, her hologram fading out.