Part 23

"Oh how we sang
That far night away
Oh how loud we sang"


There was a glowing halo, burning bright. It expanded in front of and around the gunship he'd targeted. It morphed, rolled and swayed. Pushed by the shields and mass of the oncoming ship. Made bigger by colliding energies dropping and randomly creating molecules of gas, superheated and venting. The space around the Gunship was screaming in protest.

Alarms in the 'Chance were ringing. Gunship number two had set it's sights and was launching.

Missiles were coming forward.

That wasn't what worried Freddie.

Seconds till impact. The defences were running, selecting, green lighting a strategy.

That wasn't what worried Freddie.

It was the frontal attack to come.

The defences started cutting up missiles

He waited a second

'Raise shields to maximum" he said.

At that level, no more shooting and no more missiles.

The shields raised.

The main guns of the attacking gunship fired.

The Golden Chance was lost in a glowing flare.

"Jolo give me some extreme evasion. Get creative" said Freddie

"Yes Sir!" came Jolo's gleeful reply.

The engines roared into life. The Chanced burst forward and starting spiralling. Spiralling wide, spiralling forward. Spiralling right into the attacking ship.

Freddies original target rolled out of it's miasma of debris. Fires burning, gases venting and stance unstable.

More alarms rang in the 'Chance

"Sir, we have hull burn' said Ko-on

"Jolo, we need more" said Freddie

"Brace for main engines " came Jolo's reply

Space around the 'Chance compressed. Blurs of radiation blossomed in colour and everything wrenched

"Captain you have a little time. " said Jolo

"Explain things to me Jolo" said Freddie

"One tenth of compression for one tenth second on manual navigation" said Jolo

"Good, get me a strategic update on our position." said Freddie.

Freddie pulled out the chrome performance mike

"All crew, thanks be to Jolo we have a reprieve. Make any repairs you can"

Freddie smiled, put the mike down and looked at his maps.

Technorati Tags: Battle, Opera, SF, Space, Starship, Writing

Part 22

Van Gehan stood on his circular command deck. Throughout the Smokeless Fire crew were strapped tight into action stations. Effectively acceleration stations on a freighter like this. The one job 'Gehan had never managed was to upgrade all those stations, even those on the bridge into combat worthy cockpits. So whilst the men who could sat secured tight into steel cages, the bridge crew walked the deck. Needing the resources at their fingertips.

Each in a decompression suit, mask open and gloves off.

Knowing that if all else failed. The command deck itself could be ejected as a single big capsule.

The situation itself was pushing the 'Smokeless. Mapping the missiles was a mess. Bending space had thrown them all over the place. Right now there were 16 units that looked like direct thread. Four more were so far out of that they were never coming back and as for the rest. Who knew? There was more random movement out there than in a cup of tea.

Of the eight Sterateel fighters two locked two far damaged to dog-fight, but were flying wide. Probably hoping to engage from a distance with even more missiles. The rest had formed up into an attack formation. Van Gehan knew that they were coming for him. First though they had to avoid the missile salvo loosed by the 'Chances two remaining fighters and that was buying time. The squadron was six was wheeling across the sky, taking out the defensive missiles in short and sharp bursts of fire.

Those two fighters from the 'Chance were still in formation. These were well trained men. Not the provincial amateurs sung of in Fleet bars far far away. Hajamke it turned out was producing a fine breed of man.

Beeping on a console were a host of messages from the convoy. As Van Gehan had discovered throughout his career in Fleet ; merchants everywhere were worriers. Automatic soothing replies were flowing out them. Smooth and slick as treacle. There was no time to worry about these.

His men were quiet. Working hard to keep everyone alive.

The missiles were getting closer and closer.

The guns on the Smokeless Fire opened fire.

The escort fighters followed their planned cue and moved aggressively.

Technorati Tags: Fiction, Opera, Battle, SF, Space, Starship, Writing