Opal 77: Skewed Space (Jerrie)

Part 28

They were on their own course, like a blip in the universe. Destiny had lead them here, dropped them together forcefully into a situation as if they were cursed to endure it. Always endure. They will always endure.

The first shot blinked across the black expanse of darkness instantaneously. Normally the canons would cause a catastrophically loud boom to ricoshay off every surface, bursting eardrums and blinding ill prepared colonists as they watched their houses disappear in stuttering flames. No sounds crossed the threshold this time; even after the chaser, like cat and mouse, saught to damage and capture the prey it skampered on after. Even as it's prey weaved and dodged, panic palpable on both sides, it lumbered on robotically. One afraid to destroy its target in fear of reprimand beyond comprehension, the other fearing for its life, unaware of the chasers intent. The obtuse grey chaser, it's combersome design a shining light against the stark expanse it sailed through, was so close to its goal now that if the ship were sentient, with hands to reach or a jaw to snap and snarl and growl, it could do just that.

The moon of a nearby planet seemed to be in the fleers path, it's old bones designed to hunt, not run. One shot pierced through the dark and made contact with its back, lighting up the field of energy with a wild blue that stretched across the metal surface, trying to contain the powerful force as much as it could. A few shots from the chaser could put this shield out of order, rendering their back bare to take apart. It would only take a few more to break a hole in the hull, launching whatever was on the other side into space. Maybe they would ram them instead, latching onto the poor ship and boarding her without a care. They would acertain the crews bite, loosing a few of their own souls as they flung them in cages. But this was not to be.

The old bounty ship, created to chase as naturally as you and I breathe, began a rapid progression towards the old moon. It sped away like a shot, zipping across the small distance much like humans are prone to jump to conclusions. A state of confusion filled the command deck onboard the prototype for Zolbout 5, its lumbering body stuttering slightly as they reverted power from artillery to engine. But it wasn't enough, the old hunter had sped away and was orbiting the moon before you could say jack rabbit. And then they were out of sight. The boxy steel was left hurrying after it, chugging along weakly. It's disorienting to loose a target that quickly, even more so to have it appear in your weak spot moments later, charging like an angry bull. Major Dorian could hear the imaginary war cries as they took them from behind, having used the moon to slingshot themselves into the perfect position with such speed and power that it was a shock. In seconds they had opened fire, large torpedoes launching themselves into the great steel contraptions back before they could get any shields up. It's over and done with before they can even turn around.

The glorious fire eats up all the oxygen that escaped the ship, flinging debris into motion, hurdling dangerously towards the triumphant hunter. Explosions start slowly, erupting along the back, and then the side, but just as the hunter sails past, so sure of it's victory that it creates the saying "don't be so sure", a shot from the wounded chaser flies out across the small space. At such close quarters it knocks the shield out instantly, for the whole ship. A few more shots lazily skate across at them before the canons become disabled, more explosions signifying it's last and shuttering breaths.

The danger is still emenent, even if they've successfully vanquished their foe. The hunter weaves through flying metal, skinning and scraping against just as many as it misses completely.

"I'm not a damn pilot!" Jade yelled at Jesy from her place in the huge armchair near the window. The ships autopilot had been damaged from that last shot.

"We can tell." Leigh-Anne's comment distracted Jade, causing her to loose focus. A loud scraping sound causing the ship to rattle soon followed.

"Just stop talking and let me focus!" She turns the ship sharply to the right, missing the shrapnel by about a foot.