Page 9 of My Alien Bughead (Supernova Casanovas #4)

Chapter 9

Lucía

?Carajo! (Fuck!) That Krestilian is really getting on my nerves! Calling me a pest? I’ll show him a fucking pest.

Ugh.

Huffing out in frustration, I spend a few seconds trying to calm down. I’m supposed to be professional but how do I stay professional when all I want to do is crack open D’Aakh’s head with one of my heavy wrenches? Or kiss him. Somehow, that’s on the list of options as well.

When we were arguing, the few inches of space between us felt charged with static electricity. My body still tingles all over and thank god for the thick fabric of my coveralls, since it conceals how hard my nipples are.

I hate that pretentious prick but apparently, my body didn’t get the memo.

“Well, that was entertaining,” Astra giggles behind me, reminding me that not only did I completely fail to stay calm and professional but that I also had an audience for it.

Perfect. Just perfect.

“Indeed it was,” Zarkan agrees, grinning from ear to ear. Given the size of his mouth and the number of his sharp teeth, it’s a rather disturbing sight. “I was ready to rush in and rescue you but it seems my poor technician is the one who will need the rescuing.”

Blood rushes to my cheeks but I force myself to act nonchalant. “I’m used to dealing with jerks. He’s no worse than others.” Except he is. Especially the fact that I’m somehow attracted to him. Dammit. I need to focus. “We should probably follow him,” I say, pointing down the corridor to where D’Aakh’s flashlight is just disappearing down a vertical shaft. He appears to have a tendency to storm off dramatically, like a prissy teenager.

Zarkan motions for me to lead the way. Climbing down a long shaft, we then continue through an even narrower and darker corridor toward the aft of the ship. As I walk, I shine light on the walls, finding more and more damaged segments. Cables are missing, crudely cut and dragged off to god knows where. Some of the control panels are gaped open.

Curious, I lean in close to the nearest one. “They figured out how to trip the fuses,” I note. “I guess they got tired of cutting live wires.”

“Told you they were smart,” Astra says.

“Yeah. Smart enough to carefully choose what to take and what to leave alone. Look.” I point to two almost identical cables. One is cut, most of it missing, but the other one doesn’t have a scratch. “The damaged one gives power to the garbage disposal system. The other one to the electromagnets that maintain the field around the reactor core. Had the Serramorphs cut that one, the core would have become unstable. With enough damage, the fail-safes wouldn’t kick in, and instead of shutting down, the reactor would overload.”

Astra frowns. “Let me guess. The ship would explode.”

“Exactly.”

“Why did we lose power then, if the Serramorphs were so careful with what they took?” Zarkan asks.

“Hmm,” I hum to myself as I think about it.

The hair on the back of my neck prickles with awareness and I know D’Aakh is listening in, waiting for me to embarrass myself by admitting I don’t have the answer. Which is ridiculous, because the answer is obvious.

“They knew not to mess with the reactor,” I say. “Either they know enough about cold fusion to know how unstable it is, or they had no idea what it was and preferred not to mess with it out of fear. Either way, they left the reactor systems alone. However, they didn’t spare the secondary systems. Let’s see.”

I walk a couple dozen steps forward, looking for a specific control panel. D’Aakh moves forward in sync with me, keeping his distance while remaining in hearing range. He’s clearly itching to rush in and correct me the second I say something wrong. I ignore him. If he wants to act like a child, I’ll treat him like a child. A very sexy child. Mierda , that’s just wrong.

Focus, Lucía. Focus.

I point at the panel. “Behind this wall, there’s a power converter.” Three pairs of eyes watch me with rapt attention. The fourth pair ostensibly pretends to be busy elsewhere. “Umm, how much do you know about how this ship actually works?”

“Zilch,” Astra snorts. “My technical skills back on Earth spanned changing a lightbulb and supporting a wobbly table with a piece of cardboard. Here in space, I can use the shower and the food synthesizer. I’ll need a dumbed down version, please.”

A muffled yet derisive snort comes from down the corridor. Stamping down the urge to throw something at D’Aakh I say, “Alright. You have a fusion reactor. Simplified, you could say it gives off a lot of heat. That heat is then run through the power converters and turned into electricity.”

I pause to consider going into detail, then decide against it. Magnetohydrodynamic generation is not a topic a normal person can wrap their head around easily, human or otherwise.

“So, the Serramorphs didn’t touch the reactor, but they damaged the power converters,” Zarkan concludes. “I recall D’Aakh mentioning something about them. And without the power converters, the reactor can’t operate?”

“Exactly. This type of reactor has six converters and can operate with three or more. However, if less than three remain operational, the ionized plasma doesn’t have enough energy outlets thus building up heat inside the reactor containment chamber. Then, the security protocols either initiate an emergency shutdown or—”

“Boom,” Astra finishes. “Not good, even I get that. So, the reactor thingy is fine? We just need new cables for these converting things and we’re good?”

“It seems so. It’s a good thing, too. Replacing a damaged reactor core would cost you more than a new ship.” A lot more. “Everything else can be fixed or replaced easily, but the containment chamber… When that breaks, it’s off to the scrapyard.”

An indignant hmmpf sound comes from inside Zarkan’s datapad. “The reactor was not damaged, so there is no need to talk about scrap yards,” Cai says, her words clipped. “Other than that, Ms. Nores’ theory seems to be correct. Before the reactor shut down, four of the power convertors were already offline and the fifth was malfunctioning. There was also damage to the power capacitors and the power distribution network in general. Since the sensors in this part of the ship went out even before the reactor did, we have to assess the exact damage manually.”

“That’s why we’re here,” I agree, looking in D’Aakh’s direction. Not casting a smug smile at him, that’s for sure. I do smirk, however, when our eyes meet, cocking my brow in challenge and daring him to dispute anything I’ve just said.

He can’t, because I’ve won this round. His glare darkens as he turns away without a word.

My smirk widens. Human: 1, bughead: 0.

“From what I can see, it seems that the repairs will be somewhat time-consuming but not complicated,” I add.

“Perfect,” Zarkan says. “We still need to strike a deal with the Serramorphs first. I don’t want to fix the ship only for them to take it apart again. Let’s continue forward and see if we can locate them.”

We keep walking. Whenever the corridor divides, we follow the path where more things are damaged. For long minutes, the only sounds I hear echoing around us are our footsteps.

Astra shudders. “It’s so quiet here. It’s creepy, like a monster is going to jump out and eat us all.”

“It would have to be a small monster to fit in here,” I say, grinning as I watch Zarkan struggle to squeeze his body through a particularly narrow section. A massive piping system protrudes from the wall here, leaving a gap barely two feet wide. Even sideways, Zarkan has trouble passing through, especially since his thick, lizard tail keeps getting in the way.

I pity the poor man. I might be a little on the taller and wider side for a human, but I never have issues fitting through alien-sized vents or ducts.

“It’s normally not this quiet, either,” D’Aakh adds, his voice surprising us all.

I turn abruptly to see him standing just a few steps away. He diligently avoids looking my way but the look he directs at Astra is almost friendly. It looks like he’s finished sulking for now.

D’Aakh gestures to the massive pipes. “The reactor doesn’t make any sounds, but the supporting systems do. They hum, whirr, buzz and gurgle. To be standing right here and hear nothing is…disconcerting. It’s like listening to a body without…” He pauses to clear his throat, his expression tightening into a strained grimace. “Without a pulse,” he finishes, his voice still sounding a little hoarse. D’Aakh’s hands tremble slightly and his eyes look glassy. Breaking out of his momentary daze, he quickly balls them into fists. “We should keep moving.”

I’m so taken aback by the change in D’Aakh’s demeanor, any snarky remark I might have offered dies instantly. It would be totally unwarranted after seeing the sudden torment in his eyes as he mentioned the lack of pulse.

Is that why he’s so bitter and hostile? Did he lose someone precious to him and is turning his pain outwards so he doesn’t have to deal with it? It would make sense.

Casting a side glance at Tareq and Zarkan, I’m hoping one of them might shed some light on the subject but both seem to be on high alert, listening carefully to something my human ears cannot catch.

“It’s not quiet,” Tareq notes, his hand finding the handle of his pistol.

“No,” Zarkan agrees, tilting his head in confusion. “But it almost sounds like…”

“A waterfall. Yeah.”

D’Aakh curses and this time, I join him. Hearing a waterfall inside of a spaceship is never a good thing. It means the pipes aren’t just leaking, they’ve cracked open and the water is gushing out all over the place. Usually, it’s not clean water, either.

Most of the fluids running through these pipes contain sewage and contaminated water ready for recycling. Or worse, they’re irradiated fluids used to maintain the reactor chamber temperature. The last thing this ship needs is to be flooded with shit. Or radiation. Radiation would actually be preferable. Easier to clean, anyway.

D’Aakh points toward the intersection further down the corridor. “Which way?”

Both Tareq and Zarkan point right, and D’Aakh takes off at a sprint. I follow closely behind, my mind busy recalling valve placements. If it’s coolant fluid, we can simply close off the damaged section. The trouble will be accessing the valves without getting a too high dose of radiation. If it’s sewage water…

I shudder at the thought of wading through someone else’s shit. That was not how I wanted to spend my day. I just took a damn shower not two hours ago!

“What the…”

D’Aakh stops so abruptly I run into his back. It’s firm and muscular and for a moment, I forget why we were running in the first place. Then the sound of running water reaches my ears and I actually peer around him into the massive room we’ve arrived at. My eyes widen and my jaw drops to the floor as I stare at the sight before me, unable to utter a single sound.

Hearing a waterfall inside a spaceship is never a good thing. Unless there’s an actual waterfall inside the ship.