The Silver Fox's Guile: A Story of Uprising

Chapter 51

Thanks to Alannah's stellar firing skills, we made short work of our quarry. They put up one hell of a fight, but we managed to get out of this dogfight in one piece while our enemies were reduced to scrap metal.

"Woo!" my girlfriend cheered, "That was a fucking rush!"

"Indeed it was," I breathed, turning my attention to my commset, "Hey Boreas, where are you?"

"Sending you my coordinates now," he answered, "Jackson's currently at the helm of our transport, so I'm busy scrambling this chat in order to make sure we won't be found by Federation vessels."

"Alright. We'll warp over to you in a few moments," I answered, loosing a breath I didn't realize I had been holding.

I felt a hand grab my shoulder. "Hey, you okay, Cylus?"

"Yeah, I'm good," I assured Alannah, not tearing my gaze away from the vast sea of stars before us, "That was just...intense."

"No kidding. It's not every day you take on a squadron of Dreadknights and make it out alive."

"Yeah..."

We fell silent after that. Thankfully, some small talk filled the silence that had settled in the cockpit. We continued to idly chat with one another until the azure and white transport the rest of our crew had pilfered came into view.

"Please tell me that's you, Cylus," Boreas said over comms.

"Yeah, it's me. Don't panic–I'd rather not have Jackson fire on us," I responded, "Sit tight: we'll be docking on top of your vessel in a few moments."

"Alright. I'll get to work prepping the files I found for everyone to review," he said, "After that, I'll greet you and your girl."

"Sounds like a plan to me, Boreas," I said. After that, I focused on approaching the other spacecraft.

It took a fair amount of concentration and care on my part to approach the transport. When I got close enough, a message appeared on the console board before me asking if I wanted to dock with the larger craft. Selecting yes, I listened as a boarding tube connected to the bottom of the Dreadknight.

"Um, how do we get out of here?" Alannah prompted me.

I rose to my feet and breathed a sigh of relief when I realized there was enough room for me to inch out of the cockpit. "Get up and follow me. I think the docking port is back here."

"And here I thought the interior of this ship was cramped as fuck..." she murmured as she followed behind me.

"Oh, it definitely is," I assured her, "However, this is one of the only spacecrafts that's still manufactured that has a little more wiggle room."

"Huh. Good to know."

Behind the two pilot's seats was what appeared to be a small, cramped supply area. medpacks, emergency O2 canisters, and several tins of regenerative salve could be found in a small locker. Before us on the floor was the now-open docking port. A ladder could be seen connecting the two crafts together, and I quickly made my way down.

"I hope the connection between these two ships is air-fucking-tight," Alannah grumbled above me, "I don't want to get sucked into the vacuum of space and turn into a floating ice cube."

"Don't worry, mijn sintel," I assured her as I reached the docking chamber of the transport, "These are UTF crafts: they were designed with safety in mind."

"Be that as it may," she began, reaching the bottom of the ladder a few seconds after I did, "Hopping from one ship to the other in the absence of an atmosphere is still a terrifying thought."