reported in a strained voice. “RFLAMs engaging.”
The ship had two Rapid Fire Laser Anti-Missile systems: defensive turrets containing a dozen rapidly charging gas-chambered pulse lasers. The ship mounted one at the bow, where the four ribs and the central keel combined into the protective shield dome. The second was at the rear of the ship, where it guarded the vessel’s immense engines.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Kenneth McLaughlin told Rice through the video link, the Mage closing his eyes and reaching out. Even from the simulacrum chamber, no Mage could reach very far, and jumps were exhausting. There was no way McLaughlin would save them.
“RFLAMs each got one,” Jenna reported grimly. “Two more inbound – shit ! One’s out of the gun’s field of fire!”
“Got it,” Kenneth said grimly. A third blinking icon on the screen disappeared as the Mage reached out and turned part of the missile into super-heated plasma.
It wasn’t enough. The immense, multi-megaton mass of the Blue Jay lurched as the last missile slammed into the forward RFLAM turret. Rice expected to die in that moment, only to blink as nothing more happened.
“What the hell?” he demanded.
“Either it was a dud or a straight kinetic,” Jenna told him harshly. “Not that it matters – the RFLAM is gone, as is half the bow dome. We try any major maneuvers and we’ll open up like a rusty tin can.”
“I am not dying like this,” Rice told her, engaging the maneuvering controls himself. He took it gently, trusting the XO’s assessment, but he slowly turned the ship so her main fusion rockets – and the last laser turret – faced her attacker.
“We’re being hailed,” Jenna told him. “Playing it.”
“Captain Rice,” a sardonic voice told him. “I do believe your ship may be a bit banged up! Please don’t run too hard, you might hurt yourself.”
“Shit, shit, shit, SHIT ,” Jenna exclaimed as the hull lurched again, this time much less noticeably.
“What?!”
“Asshole painted us with an x-ray laser while we were busy listening to his transmission,” she said bitterly. “Now the aft RFLAM is gone.”
Jenna didn’t wait to play the second transmission; she just threw it on when it arrived.
“In the name of the Blue Star Syndicate, I order you to heave to and be boarded,” the voice ordered. “Continue running, and I will put a kinetic warhead through your bridge, and then collect your cargo and bodies from the debris field.”
Rice shared a helpless look with Jenna and McLaughlin. If the Blue Star Syndicate boarded the ship, he was dead. If they blew out the Jay ’s bridge, he was dead.
Now Captain David Rice knew he was going to die, and his crew with him.
The Ship’s Mage took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.
“Not happening, sir,” he said quietly. “Ready the ship for jump.”
“You just jumped,” Rice told him. “You can’t jump for at least a few hours!”
Regulations said a Mage should jump every six hours. If you had a strong, brave, Mage, you could jump after three… once. They’d arrived at the final jump zone short of Sherwood barely twenty minutes before.
“I’m sorry David,” Kenneth said quietly. “I won’t let everyone on this ship die.”
The camera to the simulacrum chamber cut out, and David turned back to look at the sensor board and the pirate ship closing. Then the indescribable sensation of teleportation took hold, and the whole bridge faded out.
When it slowly faded back in, the sensors were clear. They were a day’s regular flight out of Sherwood Prime.
“Get the camera back,” he ordered Jenna. “Kenneth, answer me dammit!” he snapped.
The monitor flipped back on, and Rice swallowed hard. The simulacrum chamber was at the center of the ship. It had no gravity, only the small model that was always, somehow, at the exact direct center of the ship it was a copy of.
One of Kenneth’s hands was caught in the model. The rest of him had
The ship had two Rapid Fire Laser Anti-Missile systems: defensive turrets containing a dozen rapidly charging gas-chambered pulse lasers. The ship mounted one at the bow, where the four ribs and the central keel combined into the protective shield dome. The second was at the rear of the ship, where it guarded the vessel’s immense engines.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Kenneth McLaughlin told Rice through the video link, the Mage closing his eyes and reaching out. Even from the simulacrum chamber, no Mage could reach very far, and jumps were exhausting. There was no way McLaughlin would save them.
“RFLAMs each got one,” Jenna reported grimly. “Two more inbound – shit ! One’s out of the gun’s field of fire!”
“Got it,” Kenneth said grimly. A third blinking icon on the screen disappeared as the Mage reached out and turned part of the missile into super-heated plasma.
It wasn’t enough. The immense, multi-megaton mass of the Blue Jay lurched as the last missile slammed into the forward RFLAM turret. Rice expected to die in that moment, only to blink as nothing more happened.
“What the hell?” he demanded.
“Either it was a dud or a straight kinetic,” Jenna told him harshly. “Not that it matters – the RFLAM is gone, as is half the bow dome. We try any major maneuvers and we’ll open up like a rusty tin can.”
“I am not dying like this,” Rice told her, engaging the maneuvering controls himself. He took it gently, trusting the XO’s assessment, but he slowly turned the ship so her main fusion rockets – and the last laser turret – faced her attacker.
“We’re being hailed,” Jenna told him. “Playing it.”
“Captain Rice,” a sardonic voice told him. “I do believe your ship may be a bit banged up! Please don’t run too hard, you might hurt yourself.”
“Shit, shit, shit, SHIT ,” Jenna exclaimed as the hull lurched again, this time much less noticeably.
“What?!”
“Asshole painted us with an x-ray laser while we were busy listening to his transmission,” she said bitterly. “Now the aft RFLAM is gone.”
Jenna didn’t wait to play the second transmission; she just threw it on when it arrived.
“In the name of the Blue Star Syndicate, I order you to heave to and be boarded,” the voice ordered. “Continue running, and I will put a kinetic warhead through your bridge, and then collect your cargo and bodies from the debris field.”
Rice shared a helpless look with Jenna and McLaughlin. If the Blue Star Syndicate boarded the ship, he was dead. If they blew out the Jay ’s bridge, he was dead.
Now Captain David Rice knew he was going to die, and his crew with him.
The Ship’s Mage took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.
“Not happening, sir,” he said quietly. “Ready the ship for jump.”
“You just jumped,” Rice told him. “You can’t jump for at least a few hours!”
Regulations said a Mage should jump every six hours. If you had a strong, brave, Mage, you could jump after three… once. They’d arrived at the final jump zone short of Sherwood barely twenty minutes before.
“I’m sorry David,” Kenneth said quietly. “I won’t let everyone on this ship die.”
The camera to the simulacrum chamber cut out, and David turned back to look at the sensor board and the pirate ship closing. Then the indescribable sensation of teleportation took hold, and the whole bridge faded out.
When it slowly faded back in, the sensors were clear. They were a day’s regular flight out of Sherwood Prime.
“Get the camera back,” he ordered Jenna. “Kenneth, answer me dammit!” he snapped.
The monitor flipped back on, and Rice swallowed hard. The simulacrum chamber was at the center of the ship. It had no gravity, only the small model that was always, somehow, at the exact direct center of the ship it was a copy of.
One of Kenneth’s hands was caught in the model. The rest of him had
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