... than to arrive (crack at a serial novella)

Tell us your stories of Elite: Dangerous!
User avatar
Flip
Dangerous
Dangerous
Posts: 3342
Joined: Fri Sep 19, 2014 12:00 pm
CMDR: Flip Martin
CMDR_Platform: None Specified
Contact:

Re: ... than to arrive (crack at a serial novella)

Postby Flip » Sat Jun 20, 2015 1:52 am

Hope you're well now!
Image
We demand rigidly defined areas of doubt and uncertainty! ―Douglas Adams

Straylight0
Novice
Novice
Posts: 88
Joined: Fri May 22, 2015 3:57 pm
CMDR: Straylight0
CMDR_Platform: None Specified
Contact:

Re: ... than to arrive (crack at a serial novella)

Postby Straylight0 » Sat Jun 20, 2015 8:11 am

Picking up, but just heading towards a busier period. Hopefully that means more precrastination by writing instead! Or was that prevarication, keep getting them muddled...

User avatar
UnmarkedBoxcar
Master
Master
Posts: 1098
Joined: Tue May 12, 2015 5:18 pm
CMDR: UnmarkedBoxcar
CMDR_Platform: PC-MAC
Contact:

Re: ... than to arrive (crack at a serial novella)

Postby UnmarkedBoxcar » Mon Jun 22, 2015 6:34 pm

Prevarication is a deviation from the truth, or to speak falsely. ;)

I think you probably want procrastination :D
Image

Straylight0
Novice
Novice
Posts: 88
Joined: Fri May 22, 2015 3:57 pm
CMDR: Straylight0
CMDR_Platform: None Specified
Contact:

Re: ... than to arrive (crack at a serial novella)

Postby Straylight0 » Mon Jun 22, 2015 9:09 pm

Precrastination = not even getting as far as procrastination yet!

Straylight0
Novice
Novice
Posts: 88
Joined: Fri May 22, 2015 3:57 pm
CMDR: Straylight0
CMDR_Platform: None Specified
Contact:

Part 11

Postby Straylight0 » Tue Jun 23, 2015 6:57 pm

11.

Dan took his hands off the stick, wiggled them, and put them back. He tried to swallow but there was no saliva. The thorny angles of the generation ship glittering below, the sweep of the planet on one side and its misty rings on the other, all vanished as his vision focused in on the ships ahead. They had shrunk small now that they were facing head on, and somehow it felt that the wedge of the sidewinder was staring straight at him. Dan’s fingers twitched on the joystick, making minute adjustments to line up the crosshairs.

‘You take the sidewinder, I’ll take the eagle,’ said Doc.

IN RANGE

Dan slammed his fingers down on the triggers. His ship thrummed and slowed for a moment as streams of slugs gattled from the multicannon at his target, glowing white with heat. Was he hitting? Flashes of light disturbed his vision, streaks of white linking to the other ship and great splashes of blue energy washing over his forward shield. His eyes flicked sideways.

Jesus! Two-thirds shield gone!

He jerked the stick sideways and hit the “boost” button. The acceleration slammed him back into his seat; he’d been hunching forward over the controls. He pushed the scontrol left and right, twisting the yoke, hauling it forwards and backwards, taking evasive manouvres. The muscles in his neck tensed and strained as the weight of his helmet tried to slam his head about, even though the inertial gel was taking most of the strain. The schematic of his ship registered another hit. He reached out for the power control. More power to shields, or more to engines? How had this happened? Where was the enemy?

The radar showed it as a red triangle, a stalk denoting elevation. On the target display, it was now facing away, but turning towards him. Dan rolled his ship around; now the pirate was below him and he pushed the stick forward, diving towards it. Blood rushed upwards and the lining of his helmet inflated to press on his head. It felt as if his eyeballs were trying to bulge up like balloons. How much negative g could you pull before you had a red-out? He’d done this plenty of times in training, but now it felt worse.

He saw the enemy but it was twisting sideways, and vanished out of his crosshairs. Dan rolled again and this time he climbed towards it; now the blood was draining from his head and he wanted it back. The gel constricted his legs and his lower body but he squashed the momentary feeling of panic, tensed his muscles and kept breathing from his diaphragm. The wide wedge of the sidewinder flew across his vision again, but this time he pushed the stick forward and kept it ahead. It swelled suddenly; he was going to hit it! He yanked back the throttle, jinked right and then left, only now it was powering away from him and climbing. Dan wrestled with the controls and squeezed the triggers again. Shot flew all over space except where the target was. It still had more than half its shields, he couldn’t let that go, he had hardly any! Throttle up, down... now the superior manouverability of his fighter would tell. The pirate might have won the initial joust, it wouldn’t win the mêlée. The enemy pilot made a mistake and flew straight away from Dan for the moment. He centred the crosshairs... but no bullets were flying. RELOADING, said the weapon status tags. Dan roared. Doc was saying something on the comms, but that didn’t matter. The guns clicked back to “ready” and he started spraying fire. The sidewinder had managed to turn and face him, and as its own shields flared and flickered under Dan’s barrage, its lasers began to pulse again.

Another stripe of dots met the sidewinder from above, and its shields fizzled out of existence. Sparks flew from its hull as high-velocity rounds ate into the metal. The sidewinder hit its own boost, soaring away on a trail of luminous plasma.

‘I said I’d got mine,’ said Doc. ‘You do know you’re growling to yourself, don’t you?’

Not that it mattered. Dan pulled the eagle round, throttle down as he turned then up as he started facing towards his foe. He was doing this, it was working! It wasn’t getting away from HIM! He reached for the boost button again--

Another line of magnetically accelerated iron struck the sidewinder, punching through its rear bulkhead. It started tumbling, its flight control lost, then blew apart as its reactor went critical. Doc had killed HIS target! HIS! For a moment, Dan nearly turned the ship on his friend, then he gulped.

‘Not bad for first combat,’ said Doc calmly. ‘Training is your friend, watch out for the anger. Why, I bet you never even noticed my guy shooting you.’

Dan looked at his shield indicator. It was nearly gone, the faintest blue tinge around the hull schematic. Suddenly, he felt cold.

‘The cobra’s run off. Put power to shields and head back to the bow at half speed while they charge. Things aren’t going badly there.’

Dan pulled his ship around and into formation with Doc, who he couldn’t help notice had nearly full shields.

Up ahead, a drifting skeleton of metal was all that remained of one of the adders. The other was twisting desperately under the combined fire of Booster and Polo, but it was Arjanna and the python which immediately drew the eye.

Her viper was dancing a similar kind of dance as it had with Thurden’s ship, only many times faster and infinately more deadly. Most pilots used “flight assist” mode all the time, having their ship’s computer fire thrusters so that it moved more like an aeroplane in atmosphere. In space, where you could otherwise find yourself flying backwards or sideways rather than the way you were facing, most people could get horribly confused otherwise, or fail to ever correct a spin. Military pilots were better trained and tended to deactivate it for combat manouvres; Dan realised with a stab of shame that he hadn’t touched his once in the fight, nor used any thrust beyond adjusting the throttle.

Arjanna, though, had complete mastery of her ship’s movement. It spun then stopped dead, shot forwards while twisting sideways to fire, slid around the python’s flank to attack its belly, then as the large ship started rolling to bring the guns on its upper deck to bear, her viper boosted back around the other flank, dropping back towards the stern as it did so. All the time her lasers burned every instant she was facing it, and every few seconds a pair of cannon-shells exploded against its shields. She seemed to be leading the python into making every move she wanted.

But she was still one small fighter against a giant, and it was a giant with turret guns. No matter how good she was, she could not avoid all the sprays of laser and lead it sent in her direction. Her shields were nearly half gone, although so were those of her target.

The other adder turned into a ball of fire. ‘Moving to assist!’ called Booster.

‘No, I’ve got it right where I want it!’ said Arjanna. ‘His afterburn capacitor should be recharged by now, let’s make him use it...’

She accelerated before the python’s bow. Its engines flared and the big ship moved with surprising speed, accelerating after its tormentor. Its main guns flared, nearly striking the viper as it spiraled towards the generation ship.

The generation ship...

The python was roaring straight into the range of its gun batteries. The laser arrays opened up. One blast caught Arjanna a glancing blow, but most were focusing on the larger, slower, easier target. The python’s shields sputtered and went out. It turned over to try to bring its weapons to bear on the new threat; Arjanna flipped her viper and flew back to shelter behind it. The arrow of her ship pointed straight into the python’s belly; a long burn of laser and two cannon volleys slammed straight into its powerplant then she turned and boosted away, the thrust from her ship knocking the python off balance further. Gobbets of molten metal streamed from its hull on both sides; it turned over again and tried to escape, but more turrets were locking on. The python spewed fire, swelled, and burst. A second later its reactor detonated; there was more liquid debris than solid scattering across space.

‘Target fixation!’ said Arjanna. ‘Even experienced pilots can lose track of where they are in a fight. I believe I heard Doc telling you that earlier, Dan?’

‘Wow... I mean roger!’ said Dan.

‘Speaking of which, look behind us,’ said Doc.

Dan checked his radar. There were... three, no, five new ships there. Another new contact appeared; a ship had appeared in the other direction as well, before the bow. How many had Booster and Polo seen on the way in? Another newcomer...

‘Must be all the system’s pirates, joining together...’ said Arjanna.

‘No you’re not staying to fight them!’ snapped Booster.

‘Both our ways out are blocked off!’ said Polo. It sounded like she was trying to keep panic out of her voice.

‘We need options,’ said Arjanna. Was it Dan’s imagination, or did she actually sound a little rattled? ‘Masslock on this thing is about six kilometres, we could get that easily off its flank and jump to the ring system.’

‘You’ve forgetten the enormous relative velocity!’ said Doc. ‘No modern ship travels at this sublight speed. We’d hit the mass concentration of the rings and the deceleration would tear us apart!’

‘Then we turn off the velocity compensators,’ said Arjanna.

‘Are you mad!?’ yelled Booster. ‘We’d be hitting an asteroid field at... God knows what speed!’

‘We’d have a better chance than staying here, much as it pains me to say it,’ said Arjanna. ‘Don’t worry, the ring’s not as solid as it looks.’

‘She’s right, it’s our best chance!’ said Doc. ‘I’ll tell you where to find the override. Follow me. And if you get a chance, say a prayer.’

----
Off for a week, unlikely to be more updates during that time

Straylight0
Novice
Novice
Posts: 88
Joined: Fri May 22, 2015 3:57 pm
CMDR: Straylight0
CMDR_Platform: None Specified
Contact:

Re: ... than to arrive (crack at a serial novella)

Postby Straylight0 » Sat Jul 04, 2015 6:37 pm

12.

Minister Straughn was having a bad day at work. That is to say, he was at work, or at least the serious part. The Planetary Assembly did not have a huge amount of power or influence; the representatives of the Federation, Empire, and Peraybyssos Corporation were far more important. It did not have a huge amount of money or prestige, either. Despite being a genuine Earthlike planet and a valuable agricultural exporter, the Council had only a modestly sized building and the dome was cheap glass instead of diamond. What it DID have was an enormous number of members from every haystack and chicken coup across the lands, all convinced their local farmers’ market was of galactic importance, plus a byzantine network of rules covering block votes, guaranteed rights of Darzians, imperial protocol consultations, human rights and trade regulations.

Minister Straughn sighed and pushed a hand through his thinning grey hair as he stood at the podium. He honestly couldn’t recall where the current debate was at, or even what it was about. Something relating to trade deals for genetically engineered hedgehogs under referral to double committee derailment being purposely delayed and retabled for.... well that moron with the green hair had already been speaking on it for thirty minutes. Straughn wanted to yell at them and say exactly what he thought, but had to rein himself in. One outburst could easily cost him the next election; the populace might not even be able to find their planet on a starmap, but they were instantly all over any gaffe on the social media, and one viral moment was more important than any amount of policy or corruption scandal. Not for the first time, Straughn envied the Empire. Shame they were all tyrannical fascist scum, but things would go a lot smoother if he could simply tell idiots to get fragged.

He realised there was an expectant silence; the droner had finally shut up, and people were looking at him. ‘Well, I think that’s enough for one session!’ Straughn said loudly. ‘Shall we re-convene this tomorrow?’ He looked up at the Speaker on his podium, who nodded and banged his gavel. Straughn reminded himself to buy the man another bottle of Lavian brandy sometime.

Most of the councilmen headed straight out of the room with barely-concealed relief, expect for the troublesome ones who started gathering in groups and talking heatedly. The minister turned to head for his office, and touched his ear to activate the link to his secretary. ‘Can you have a briefing on where we left that ready for me tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘Of course,’ said Tom’s voice in his ear. ‘By the way, I’ve scheduled you an urgent meeting straight away in committee room 7 with PR Officer Silgoe, Organiser Tara and Captain Thurden.’

‘You what?’ said Straughn, having made sure he was facing away from anyone else. ‘I was having drinks with the constituency club at five, then it was family night! Who is this Thurden person anyway and why the devil put me in with that scary Darzi woman?’

‘Begging your pardon sir,’ said Tom, ‘but he got shot up by a giant spaceship and was most insistent. Says all the planet needs to organise fast or we’re done for.’

Straughn left the chamber, hesitated a moment, then turned his steps towards the committee room. ‘Sounds like a military matter to me, why isn’t the commodore dealing with it? I could do with some food!’

‘Sir,’ said Tom with a faint tone of reproach, ‘this might actually be important.’

Straughn rolled his eyes and took a breath, not caring if Tom heard it. ‘Well don’t cancel the family night, I’ll see I can wrap it up inside thirty minutes.’

The committee room seemed fuller than normal, for all that it only had four other people in it. The egos of three were so big that all of them needed at least five seats to themselves. There was Silgoe, the man from the Perabyssos Corporation. He was the standard over-groomed functionary in an expensive suit, but even at his most obseqious, he knew clearly that YOU understood who he worked for.

As for Organiser Tara... Straughn still got goosebumps around the head of the Darzian community. She was always dressed in black and at least a hundred years old, but had the vigour of someone a third her age. She never went anywhere without at least one bodyguard; her regular one, stood behind her, was a six-foot-plus mass of muscle, cropped hair, and never the slightest mark of boredom or wandering attention. Between them, they gave the strong impression that the terrorist strikes of five centuries past might return at any second.

The space-captain Thurden had taken the head of the table and was sat there as if he were heading a council of war; again, Straughn had to remind himself that manhandling a constituent could lose an election.

Straughn sat down at the side of the table remaining, not bothering to conceal his annoyance. ‘So what’s this about? Speak plainly, man.’

Captain Thurden didn’t hesitate. ‘I haven’t told the security forces this yet. There’s a generation ship heading into the system. I take it you know what that means?’

‘Why don’t you spell it out for us?’ Straughn replied. He prided himself on dodging difficult questions.

‘Federation law says that generation ships must be protected from any and all interference and communication at all costs,’ put in Silgoe smoothly. ‘Furthermore they must reach their destination, settle it and evolve for at least a century before contact.’ Trust the ’stard to be fully briefed on everything orbiting the core.

‘Well that’s going to be a little difficult, see how we’re already here!’ Straughn said and leaned back, feeling he had made a decisive point.

‘What if they decide to remove us?’ asked Thurden. ‘Wouldn’t be the first time. Load of settlers got evicted from somewhere a gen ship was heading, I remember that from school.’

Silgoe now had a datapad on the table in front of him, and had cocked his head. Straughn knew perfectly well he had a whole team of researchers and experts at the end of his data stream to brief him, not just a single political intern; the git could probably win any quiz show in the universe without breaking a sweat. Now Silgoe nodded. ‘There is a legal precedent. Even if we were not removed from our planet, an influx of population without any wealth of their own or modern skills would cause social upheaval plus strain on infrastructure and resources. That could adversely affect our profit margins.’

Straughn didn’t quit follow that, but he had a momentary vision of many acres of fine land turning into refugee camps or reservations. ‘But this is OUR planet!’ he exclaimed.

Organiser Tara had been saying nothing, just watching with disturbingly bright eyes and body language reminiscent of a panther that, although recumbent, was still wondering about a quick snack. Now she laughed, showing large teeth. ‘Now you know how WE felt when YOU showed up!’

Straughn was thrown for a moment, but Thurden didn’t hesitate. ‘You might not like us,’ he said to Tara, ‘but I think we can both agree we don’t want any more people piling in to join us, right?’

‘Correct.’ Tara gave a shallow nod. ‘What have you told the Federation?’

‘I told them I didn’t know that it was but it attacked me,’ said Thurden. ‘I also got word to the system pirates that it was unarmed and a rich haul. Think they were dumb enough to fall for it.’

‘Perhaps they have destroyed it?’ asked Straughn hopefully. ‘I mean, that would be a terrible tragedy,’ he added.

‘I don’t know if it had any guns, but even so the pirates of all the sector would take a month to shoot that thing to pieces and carry it off,’ Thurden told him. ‘We need to do something else .’

‘But didn’t it attack you?’ Straughn was feeling a little out of his depth.

‘Paid the pirates to fake that. But even if we have turned it hostile, I don’t trust those Federal do-gooders.’ Thurden pulled a face.

Straughn drew his beath in to say something, although he didn’t know what, when there was a loud thudding from the corrider outside and a brief scream. The door shook then burst open, scattering some splinters of wood onto the carpet.

Another large man came through the door. He wasn’t wearing the traditional black, but the soberness of his dress and the studied lack of expression obviously made him a Darzian. One arm was round the neck of a struggling young woman, and the other hand had a camera-drone in it, its small motors whining.

‘Well well,’ said Tara, ‘who has been listening to things they shouldn’t, and how shall we make sure you do not speak of them?’

*

Straylight0
Novice
Novice
Posts: 88
Joined: Fri May 22, 2015 3:57 pm
CMDR: Straylight0
CMDR_Platform: None Specified
Contact:

Re: ... than to arrive (crack at a serial novella)

Postby Straylight0 » Thu Jul 16, 2015 9:11 am

13.

–- DROPPING – TOO CLOSE ---

--- WARNING --- VELOCITY COMPENSATORS DISENGAGED ---

--- BRACE FOR IMPACT ---

An FSD smash was a cruel thing. One moment the asteroid layer was expanding to fill the canopy, making every muscle tense for collision. Then there was a brief pause and vision filled with the mist of space-time distortion as the abused vacuum expanded back to its normal size. Then suddenly the asteroids leaped up to be even bigger again, and Dan’s ship was plunging into them at what seemed an even greater speed.

If he was screaming, he didn’t care. A grey lump was racing at him and he slammed the controls all the way over, hitting maximum thrust. It passed but then there was another, and then another two with an impossibly small gap between them. He jerked the nose backwards and forwards. There was an impossibly huge and jagged continent in his way and he slammed the boost, propelling the ship sideways, but now he couldn’t see where he was going and he was traelling sideways as well. A sharp “snap” sound and the last of his shields were gone. Jets burst out of his ship in all directions as the thrusters fought desperately to slow it to some kind of survivable speed. Surely there couldn’t be more rocks... but they’d hit the ring obliquely, they weren’t taking the shortest route through. His head bounced off the inside of the helmet and the intertial gel hardened like cement for an instant. A crack raced across the canopy as a tiny pebble struck it. He tried to hit boost again but it was gone, he banked and tried to aim for a gap but another ship was heading for the same one and he clanged off it, the view starting to spin. He thought there was more screaming from the comms, and crackles of static.

Then there were only a few small rocks, and the blessed black void. The howl of thrusters began to subside as the ship finally started to right itself.

‘I think I lost something,’ said a dazed voice. Dan looked up and saw Polo’s eagle drifting nearby. It only had one wing.

‘Well!’ said Arjanna brightly. ‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’

‘Three... four... five,’ counted Booster, breathing hard in between each number. ‘We got lucky.’

‘Luck be damned!’ snapped Arjanna, ‘that was skill! I’m proud of all of you. Dan especially, I haven’t even given him Darzi-Nazi boot camp yet.’

‘Eeeerrrrwherrrrkmmmerrr....’ whimpered Dan. His fingers seemed to have sunk into the plastic of the flight controls. It was going to take a crowbar to separate his teeth and two cargo tugs to straighten out his back. He was glad his flight-suit was waterproof, and his heart must be about to finish its lifetime allocation of beats.

‘We need to report back,’ said Arjanna. ‘We got long-range comms yet?’

‘I have good news and bad news,’ said Doc in a hoarse voice. ‘The good news is we’re all alive. The good news is, we’re all alive. The bad news is our long-comms are still jammed. The good news is we’re all alive... and I’ve picked up the source of the jamming, it’s a megametre or so from us on the outside of the ring, not reading strong enough to be a ship. Did I mention how good it is we’re all alive?’

‘Shiny!’ said Arjanna. ‘Let’s go blow it up.’

*

User avatar
UnmarkedBoxcar
Master
Master
Posts: 1098
Joined: Tue May 12, 2015 5:18 pm
CMDR: UnmarkedBoxcar
CMDR_Platform: PC-MAC
Contact:

Re: ... than to arrive (crack at a serial novella)

Postby UnmarkedBoxcar » Thu Jul 16, 2015 4:03 pm

*chants* Dan! Dan! Dan!

Moar Dan!

:D
Image

User avatar
Flip
Dangerous
Dangerous
Posts: 3342
Joined: Fri Sep 19, 2014 12:00 pm
CMDR: Flip Martin
CMDR_Platform: None Specified
Contact:

Re: ... than to arrive (crack at a serial novella)

Postby Flip » Thu Jul 16, 2015 11:46 pm

Damn, this why I hate serialized stuff! More, I want more! And I want it now!
Image
We demand rigidly defined areas of doubt and uncertainty! ―Douglas Adams

Straylight0
Novice
Novice
Posts: 88
Joined: Fri May 22, 2015 3:57 pm
CMDR: Straylight0
CMDR_Platform: None Specified
Contact:

Re: ... than to arrive (crack at a serial novella)

Postby Straylight0 » Sun Jul 19, 2015 7:18 pm

Memo to self: try and write more story for Dan. Im afraid I just started him off as a newcomer character to introduce us to Arjanna and the squad, I was originally going to phase him out as a viewpoint character, but I can’t abandon him like that now... gotta find him something to do...

14.

Karlon smacked the chisel one more time, breaking off another chunk of gunk from the sides of the cyclone filter. He’d cleared as much as he dared this way, but without proper solvents, that was all he could do. He picked up the bottle of hair conditioner and slathered it into the workings, jiggling the rotors until they turned with a scraping sound. The pirates didn’t even have any silicone oil, so it was the best lubricant he could find.

He fitted the module back into the cavity, locked it into place, and replaced the access panel. ‘There,’ he said. ‘Try now.’

Billhook pulled the switch. More of the horrible scraping came from the machinery, but it subsided into a dull grinding and finally a kind of a whir. More dirt came jetting out of the vent, but then after a few moments it subsided and it became clear that the muck they could see was being disturbed by a jet of cleanish air.

Lixxie immediately flung herself forward and shoved her face against the grill, inhaling with a look of bliss on her face. ‘Aaaah! Now maybe my lungs will clear enough to start smoking again!’

Karlon stretched himself after reaching into the confined spaces. ‘You know, there are still films where people go crawling through air ducts in ships. As if!’

Lixxie’s dreadlocks waved behind her head. ‘What else can you fix?’ she asked. ‘Anything with computers? I installed the jammer but I try to plot routes and distances on the galaxy map sometimes, and the button that’s supposed to select your next waypoint never works. That should be easy, right?’

Karlon frowned. ‘That never worked in the adder either. I asked Thurden about it once and he just gave me a pitying look like it was something everyone knew!’

The motor throbbed and shook for a moment, then kept going more smoothly.

‘It’ll probably fill up again in just a few minutes,’ said Karlon. ‘We’d better get some more rubbish bags ready.’

‘I’ll get some!’ said Lixxie. ‘Blackburns has some tubes of Medb starlube hidden in his room as well. Maybe it’ll work better than the hair gel!’ She went bounding from wall to wall up the passage.

Karlon gulped. ‘I don’t even want to know what it’s doing there. You know it’s a high-grade engine product, right?’

‘No idea but the rest of the canister kept us in high-end booze for months!’ said Billhook. He sniggered as he caught Karlon watching Lixxie’s legs vanish around the corner. ‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up, mate. She hasn’t played Park the Python with anyone yet.’

‘I wasn’t thinking that!’ protested Karlon. ‘I’ve been kidnapped by pirates after all. I want to get home!’

‘Sure you weren’t.’ Billhook took another swig of beer, or as close to a swig as you could get in freefall; like all bottles these days, it had a valve under the cap and a piston that moved up the bottle as you sucked, so it could be drunk in zero-g. ‘I think you’ll have to work your passage home, but don’t do too good a job or we’ll never let you go!’

There was a blood-curdling scream, cut off abruptly. A second later there came another, again cut off. Then a third. The men looked at each other, and then took off down the corridor. At least, Karlon tried to; he started running as if he was in gravity, but his feet left him behind and he wound up turning a somersault. He managed to get his legs under himself, crouched down and pushed off after Billhook. At least he now had a pair of magnetic gloves to go with the boots. He was pleased to find himself catching up with the flying mass of tassles and fringes that was Billhook the pirate, and actually managed to overtake the older man as they reached the access to the bridge. Blood was thudding in his ears but he didn’t think there had been any more screams.

Lixxe was crouched over the controls.

‘What happened?’ yelled Karlon, then coughed as he realised just how much floating dirt he’d inhaled on their mad dash.

‘The alert klaxon’s bust so I did it manually,’ said Lixxie. ‘We got company. Cops!’ She pointed to the target display. There were four small fighters there, weaving between asteroids as they approached.

‘Chaffing hell!’ muttered Billhook.

‘Please don’t shoot them!’ begged Karlon. ‘Maybe if you let me go they’ll leave you alone!’

Lixxie laughed. ‘As if we’d have the power for guns even if they still worked!’

There were flashes from the lead ship, then the ones behind. An instant later Karlon felt the floor, walls and ceiling shake as if he were inside a huge bell. A wave of pressure made his eardrums pulsate. The impact was followed by rapid clattering. ‘They’re firing at us!’ he screamed.

‘I left my beer behind!’ groaned Billhook. ‘I want to be drinking when I die!’

Lixxie shrugged. ‘I said we shouldn’t cannibalise the shields, did anyone listen to me?’

‘They’re police! They’re supposed to ask us to surrender first!’ yelled Karlon.

‘That’ll be the jammer, can’t get through it at this range without the key,’ said Lixxie. ‘But they’re fighters, no room for troops. They’re not going to board us to take prisoners and they aren’t going to leave us alone either. Doubt I’ll be seeing you in hell Karlon, so nice knowing you while it lasted.’

There was a sizzling noise, then a fresh set of impacts. The ship didn’t lurch from side to side like in the movies; rather, it vibrated and started to drift around under the assault.

‘Turn off the jammer!’ Karlon screamed over the sound of more multicannon rounds striking the hull. ‘They’re probably going for that!’

One of the main lights came on, showing the squalor of the bridge in too much detail. ‘They just got it,’ said Lixxie. ‘That was taking most of the generator output.’

There was a sizzling sound, then another explosion. The light exploded in a shower of sparks. Karlon clamped his mag-gloves to the floor and scrambled to the control panel on all fours, stabbing at the communication panel. ‘They haven’t stopped! I’ve got to—oh no! They’ve destroyed the communication array along with the jammer!’

‘‘You’re getting very het up about this!’ commented Lixxie.

‘I don’t want to die!’ Karlon stabbed buttons and shrieked as a burst of slugs struck the canopy in front of his face. For a moment it felt like being indoors in a hailstorm, but hail didn’t leave flowers of fracture-rings. He pushed himself off backwards. After a moment, he became aware that his whimpering was very loud.

‘It’s stopped!’ he managed, and then went back to whimpering.

Billhook arrived back on the bridge with a bottle of whiskey. ‘I got some of the good stuff to die with!’ he said. ‘It’s gone awfully quiet. This the afterlife?’

There was a garbled crackle from the console, then the shapes on the display turned around and started leaving.

Lixxie peered into a flickering holo-display. ‘The kid turned on the distress beacon. Suppose the fuzz felt merciful. They’d got the jammer they were after, anyway. How did you know it was separate to the main antenna, Karlon?’

‘I didn’t.’ He heaved a big sigh. ‘I’m getting fed up with nearly dying!’

A sound like a whip made their heads snap round. A crack had appeared in the canopy, linking up some of the bullet-pits. For a moment it was still, then the ends began to grow and fork, zig-zagging across the diamond-glass.

‘Where are the remlock masks?’ asked Karlon.

Billhook coughed on the whiskey bottle, which had already gone down a significant amount (or rather “gone up” seeing how it had the same adaptation for space alcoholism). ‘Survival gear’s out on the combat ships. We didn’t actually have enough for all of them, either.’

‘Maybe we’ll be okay!’ Karlon was feeling the urge to take on a religion. ‘I mean, they say diamondglass is actually stronger than most of the hull....’

A triangle of the window vanished, and a high-pitched shriek of excaping air filled the bridge. A torrent of dirt started whirling out into space, and the cracks spread further.

‘They talk biowaste, looks like we’re still going to die. Nice try though,’ said Lixxie.

‘Erm.... actually I got another idea,’ said Karlon.

*


Return to “Fan Fiction”

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 25 guests

i