Space: Deja Terra – part 4
“Sir, his cargo bay doors are opening,” noted Hoyani with a hint of weariness.
“I hope he knows it’s a useless gesture,” stated Ukama, who was using a rag to rub his tired eyes. “The hold is pretty much open as it is.
Indeed, the Pinta had blown a decent-sized hole through the doors already, which were flimsier than any other portion of the merchant vessel. This was because, since cargo was loaded from the bottom, clamps secured containers to assembled buttresses and girders inside the hold. Opening and closing massively armored doors would be difficult, so these were made lighter than the thicker armor around the rest of the ship.
“Well, it was a great plan, Joachim,” said Obstrowski. “I think the crew will agree you can take a larger share of plunder on the next run, especially the crew of the Nina.” The rest of the men on the bridge laughed.
Then the Ops console started screeching a warning siren. Hoyani shut it down, then shouted, “Sir, the ship’s got weapons! He just activated them!”
Pivoting again in his chair, Obstrowski through the main viewport at the cargo ship. “Evasive maneuvers! Recharge the forward lasers.” The ship pitched violently, and stars cartwheeled onscreen.
Coming about face, they were nearer the rear of the cargo vessel. The Pinta had not moved. They were directly in the line of fire for the cargo vessel’s weapons. “Inform the captain of the Pinta to slide to port.” That would split the vessel’s defence into two spheres on either side, one for the Pinta, and the other for the Santa Maria.
The puny lasers on the vessel opened fire before the Pinta could move. Obstrowski winced, but the shots missed. They went through the thin opening of the cargo doors, into the cargo hold. There they exploded. So did the entire section of the cargo doors, engulfing the Pinta.
Ruzzio breathed heavily from the stress. His whole cargo section was ruined. The lasers had ignited the released fuel, which had destroyed the ship in his hold, and severely damaged the other. He was hurt, but he felt that the pirates were even more badly so. He once again reopened the communications channel with the pirate captain.
“There’s your fuel. Want anymore?” The taunt was so well placed that Obstrowski had to control his mixed emotions of rage and shock. It was utterly humiliating, being beaten by a freighter pilot who had probably never been in a space battle in his life. He wanted to respond with vengeance, and destroy this vessel for all it was worth.
“Pinta has lost propulsion, weapons, and their life support is malfunctioning at the moment. They’re asking for our help,” said Ukama with despair.
Obstrowski closed his eyes, and reopened them stoic. “You’ve had your day, merchant.” He now made no attempt to hide the malice in his voice. “We have the characteristics of your ship scanned down to the detail. When we meet again, be forewarned, I will not show you mercy. Begone.” He collapsed the communications display into the armrest, rubbed his hands over his weary face, then tugged at his mustache as he considered what he had done wrong that day.
Ruzzio considered his options, and it became obvious he did not have the fuel or ship structure to complete the long journey back to Centauri. He would have to return to his last supply stop, on the outer reaches of space, and hope he could make repairs there. He typed in the coordinates with a new sense of pride at his success that day. He hoped the colonists would understand about the coffins; after all, it was a fitting burial in space, the frontier that they had traversed. “Deja Terra it is…” he said aloud, as he punched in the co-ordinates.
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