Stumbling upon pirates

On the bridge of the Uragiri, Lyssandra Bal sat in a simple, uncushioned command chair. There was nothing pleasant about her ship. All amenities had been stripped away. If it didn't make the ship go faster, shoot more, or defend itself better, it had no place. Even the bunkrooms were nothing more than racks of simple hammocks, packing the men and women in as tightly as sardines.

The bridge itself was the center of a long single room that folded back along the length of the ship like an extended horseshoe. Along its length sat the pits that housed the gunnery crews, who manned the massive cannons that made this a true warship.

Lyssandra's second in command, a round-shouldered little man named Erusal, brought up her midday meal. A simple bowl with scraps of sour bread and unseasoned broth. While expensive liquor and meat were shared amongst the rest, she gnawed on the nearly tasteless morsels. Up until recently she had been eating a root vegetable called ixilir, because she found the flavor foul, but after a few months of it, she had begun to develop a taste for it, so she stopped eating it.

As her men sang drunkenly, her glowing golden eyes remained fixed and unwavering on the view screen as stars whizzed by.

"Mark," she said sternly, and the ship came to a halt.

It surprised everyone to see a battle going on. A dozen black corsairs were pursuing a dogged little alliance craft as it jinked and swerved about like a frightened little bird. Blue lances of particle energy stabbed out at the hopelessly outmatched little craft, but it fought on.

"What is this?" Lyssandra demanded.

The sensors officer plugged himself into his console. "Looks like some of the Garan Corsairs were here early, when an alliance ship stumbled onto them."

Lyssandra stood up, stretching the bandages on her neck and shoulder. "This is supposed to be a secret meeting, tell them to stop blarting around with that little thing and frag it before it manages to get a message out."

"General, identity beacon marks it as Alliance Military. It's a diplomatic vessel."

Lyssandra was intrigued. "Really? Well, I guess there's always time to collect a little treasure."

"Ma'am?" Erusal asked.

"Don't be stupid. A good hostage is worth a cargo hold of latinum, a hundred times that in political capital." She turned back to the tactical officer. "Set all cannon to disruption mode only, tell the Garans to do the same."

* * *

Inside the Kalia Greir, Gerald was thrown about as the ship ducked down, a particle beam cutting through space where they had been, only a second before.

The ship groaned as it was struck in its side. Zurra's station lost power, and she went to work engaging the backups.

"Port armor is running low on plates. They're using energy disruptors now," noted Cha'Rolette.

Ilrica fought the controls, snaking the ship about upside down, then speeding upwards again, narrowly avoiding a collision with one of the black ships.

As the ship jinked, Gerald was thrown against the bulkhead with a deep thud.

"Ugh, this is not nearly as fun as they make it seem in the movies," he grunted.

"Dyson, what are you doing?" Ilrica asked coolly. "Activate your restraints."

Gerald sat up and noticed the rune flashing before him in standard. "Oh, I didn't realize we had seatbelts."

"Why wouldn't a ship have combat restraints?" Zurra asked.

"Well, it's just that in the movies... um, never mind."

Gerald tapped the rune just as they were hit. The whole panel sparked and the restraints shot out, wrapping him from head to toe like a mummy.

"Oh, yes, this is much better," he muffled. Cadbury landed on his head and began pecking at his hair.

Another explosion rocked the ship, and they corkscrewed wildly.

"I can't get a message out," Zurra said as her station came back to life. "They're jamming all channels."

"I'm on it." Cha'Rolette placed her fingers on the side of her temples and her ta'atu uncurled themselves. They fanned straight out, glowing so brightly they filled the entire bridge with an ethereal light.

"Wow," Zurra said, yelling over the noise. "Can you actually contact people this far away telepathically?"

Cha'Rolette strained, sweat forming on her brow. "I can when I don't have toilet monsters screaming in my ears."

"Don't call me that!" Zurra yelled.

There was another explosion. For a moment, the air blew out of the cabin, before the crack was sealed with foam. Gerald yelped with pain as one of his eardrums burst.

"Why have we stopped returning fire?" Ilrica asked coolly as she brought the ship to a halt, then shot straight down in between two of the black ships, confounding their gunner's attempts to track them.

They looked over at Trahzi at the tactical station. She was frozen with fear and worry, her eyes trembling, her body shaking.

"Trahzi, get back on the weapons," Ilrica bade.

Trahzi didn't acknowledge her. As another blast hit the ship, she brought up her knees and curled up, tears forming in her black eyes.

"Trahzi! What is wrong with you?" asked Cha'Rolette.

Another beam struck the Kalia Greir, and she began to slow, her movements becoming sluggish.

"They're taking out our maneuvering thrusters," said Cha'Rolette.

Ilrica unplugged herself. "Bah! Forget it. Zurra, take the helm."

In one massive leap, she jumped over to the other side of the bridge and picked up Zurra by the scruff of her neck. She tossed her like a snowball, and Zurra splatted against the pilot's chair.

"No problem, I got it," she bubbled, as another blast rocked the ship.

Ilrica drew out a cable and plugged herself into the communications desk.

Cha'Rolette's strength gave out and she leaned forward against her console, her ta'atu hanging limply. "I think I got through."

"Now we just have to stay alive till they get here," Ilrica said as she prepared a special digital package.

"What's the plan?"

Ilrica tapped her throat then coughed out a small device into her hand. Drawing out another cable, she plugged it into the device, then jacked in into a special second port on her neck. "Well, I figure in a second they're going to call us and demand our surrender, right? Now, when they do that, you're going to respond in English, Gerald..."

"No problem," he said through the restraints covering his mouth.

"...and I'm going to use their translation software to spike their system with a virus and bring down their gellar field. After that it's up to our resident telepath here."

Zurra zig-zagged the ship, but it was struck three more times, slowing it down to little more than a crawl.

Ilrica's hands flew across the controls as she looked up at Cha'Rolette. "You still got enough in ya for this?"

"Tch. You forget who you are talking to," replied Cha'Rolette.

Ilrica smiled. "Good. Zurra, bring us to a stop, but don't engage the backups until the fireworks start."

"Fireworks?"

"You'll know it when you see it."

* * *

A final blast hit the Kalia Greir as it came to a stop. The pirate ships swooped in around her like carrion, boarding tubes extending out like a sickly insect proboscis.

"Alliance ship has been fully dampened," the sensors officer reported.

"Hail them," Lyssandra said, leaning forward in her chair. As the window come up before her, she turned to Erusal. "This is always my favorite part," she admitted.

Some of the men and women laughed drunkenly.

Gerald appeared on the screen, tossing off the last of the restraints. "This is Ensign..."

A pink fist slugged him from off screen. "No, be cooler."

"...er, Captain Dyson, I guess, of the Alliance transport Kalia Greir. Your unauthorized attack against this vessel is an act of aggression that will not go unpunished."

Lyssandra's eyes went wide. "Wait... it's you?"

Gerald pointed back at her. "It's you!"

Zurra poked her head on screen. "You know her?"

"I mean... just in passing," Gerald said.

Lyssandra laughed. "We are more than acquaintances by now." She pulled off her bandages, revealing a deep scar running from her ear down to her collar bone. "After all, you are the one who gave me this."

Zurra crinkled her nose. "When did you do that?"

All eyes were fixed on the view screen as Gerald and Lyssandra spoke. No one noticed when the security officer slumped over, his mind sliced into through his crystronic connection with the ship's network. Nor did anyone recognize when the runes on his console shifted, indicating the ship's protection against psychic attack had just been deactivated.

* * *

Ilrica wiped the blood from her nose and held up her fist, giving the go signal. Cha'Rolette nodded and floated over to a porthole, looking out at the lead pirate vessel circling them. Placing her hand against the glass, she closed her eyes and her ta'atu glowed brightly.