[Warning: Language]
"TERRAN SHIP THIS IS KAS RAKRITHA WHAT IS YOUR IDENTIFICATION AND PURPOSE INTERROGATIVE"
Oh fuck... "KAS Rakritha, this is the SS Falstaff. Our jump drive malfunctioned, and jumped us here, instead of our intended destination of Capricorn System. Main drive inoperative, currently attempting temporary repairs to get to the proper facilities for a full fix-up."
"DO YOU REQUIRE ASSISTANCE INTERROGATIVE WE CAN TOW YOU TO STATION EPSILON IF REQUIRED"
"Negative, KAS Rakritha. Have sufficient spare parts to fix the drive to return home. We appreciate the offer, though." Hope to Ghod they don't...
"SS FALSTAFF WE DETECT CONTRABAND IN YOUR CARGO HOLD YOU WILL BE DETAINED AT STATION EPSILON UNTIL THE TERRANS CAN SEND A SHIP TO RETRIEVE YOU STAND BY AND PREPARE TO BE BOARDED"
Shitfire, they did. "Affirmative, KAS Rakritha," the young man on the comms replies dejectedly. "Am standing by for boarding. Falstaff out." He turns to the Falstaff's captain as she steps onto the bridge. "We're busted."
"Don't bet on it, kid. Head for the Newton jump point, full overthrust. I've got a little surprise for them."
"Roger." As he engages the thrusters, the ebon skinned woman reaches over, and uncovers a special switch, depressing the red button. Out the aft of their craft, a 50MT thermonuclear device is ejected as they begin to thrust away from the K'thaoran warship. Just as the Falstaff disappears into jumpspace, the device detonates, severely crippling the warship as it starts to give chase.
-----
Newton System
-----
The Falstaff appears on the other side of the jumpline less than a second later, and is almost immediately surrounded by small one- and two-man craft, each armed with numerous implements of destruction.
"Hold it right there, sonny-boy! Come to a stop, and prepare to be boarded.
"Son of a bitch!" For reasons unknown, a ship coming out of jump always does so at a complete stop, requiring accelerating after the jump is completed. Unfortunately for the Falstaff, almost all directions to accelerate in are blocked.
As he watches one of the larger craft close on the Falstaff, he turns to the woman, looking into her world-weary eyes. "Jude, remember when I said I had a bad feeling about this run? Well, this is why."
"I just knew it would be one of those days."
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C.O.'s office
Adm. William Halsey orbital platform
Newton System, in orbit around Newton II
Several days later
-----
"The ETS Hecate has just contacted us, Sir. There's nothing left of the Falstaff beyond a hull and drive system. Two spacers, presumably the operators, were found dead, shot in the head with a laser pistol execution style. There were traces of the narcotic Borlao in their hold, but nothing beyond that. From what we were able to salvage from their black box, they jumped into K'thaoran space to make a delivery to a local smuggling ring, got spotted, jumped back out after nuking one of their K'tanka-class patrol frigates, and ran into pirates on this side of the jumpline. After that the data has been lost, but one of the pirates was captured, and filled in some of the details. Likewise the survivors from the birdie fig."
"Glad I'm not in the shoes of the Imperial Sector Representative at this point. Anyhow, have the record on the Falstaff closed, and contact anyone related to the victims. Dismissed, Lieutenant."
"Aye, sir." The young man turns on his heels smartly, and marches out of the room.
"Poor bastards," the base commander mutters before returning to his work.
*****
Elizabeth Founder brushed the red hair out of her eyes for the umpteenth time and gritted her teeth as she punched the necessary coordinates into the Icarus' ion drive guidance computer. //This is getting slower every time,// she thought. //Why in the seventeenth oort cloud Monkey can't spring for the necessary chip upgrade is beyond me. And if this really *is* the sweetest ship he's got, then the shop'll be in real trouble soon.//
The com-laser suddenly came to life, and she jumped. //Crap, they - // she thought. Then, the feedback static-burst caused by the nearness of the laser's orgin, only a few light-seconds away at the Base, resolved itself into a recognizable voice.
"Elizy, you've..."
"David! What did you think you were doing? I thought you were the 'stels. Don't -"
"Lizy. Shut up and listen. The coordinates I gave you were wrong. You've gotta change them. Now."
"What do you mean, 'now'? With this bucketabolts there's no such thing. Monkey's really gotta upgrade Ica here. Another few minutes, and I'll be on my way."
"The interstels got a tip-off, and they're looking for you. 045 mark -10. Good Luck."
Elizabeth bit her lip. "Crap," she breathed. "Ok, bye." She shut the laser off with a gesture, then concentrated on steering the ship to the exact coordinates specified. "Ok..." she muttered, as she punched the first set of coordinates out and entered the new ones. Her fingers tapped out a nervous beat - 1-2-3-1-2-3 - on the side of the control panel.
//C'mon, dammit!// The computer finally spat the confirmed coordinates back at her, and it only took a second for her to engage the ion drive. There was a crackling noise that reminded Elizabeth of the lightning storms back home - //How I miss them!// - and then a jolt. The stars began to speed past the viewscreen, and blurred.
"Aah, parting is such sweet sorrow!"
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