The Lucky Talon has departed Iron’s End, and is accelerating toward light speed as a warthog of a starship drops out of OtherSpace, bristling with metallic spikes and armed with multiple cannon arrays.
A voice comes across all common frequencies within range: “Lucky Talon: Halt and prepare to be boarded – on orders of the mightiest of the Rustborn warlords, Strel Varnak. Failure to comply will be answered harshly.”
Cyngari slows, but does not stop, as he ponders his next move. “It would seem Iron’s End has a mole…” he snarls. Reaching across his console, he flips a couple switches, and the screen reads, ##JAMMING FREQUENCIES ACTIVE. SCANNING FOR WEAPON LOCKS.## “That should buy us a bit of time…” Meanwhile, he activates his comm link. “I think you’ll find I don’t bow a knee to anyone, so you can dispense with the fluffy titles.”
The cannons of the Rustborn ship have locked on the Lucky Talon. But they haven’t opened fire yet. The voice on the comms replies: “You carry the property of Strel Varnak. Surrender that property to us and you will be rewarded in scav credits.”
Jasper steps into the cockpit. “We slowed?” Antira peeks through the hatchway, baby in her arms. The man in the bellhop hat spies the Rustborn warship. “Ah.”
“It would seem that our departure was anticipated,” Cygnari says, re-routing power to his own weapon systems. “I have activated a jamming system that should disrupt their weapon locks, at least for the time being, but that will not prevent them from blind firing if they desire it…” he says, eyes narrowing. “Fortunately, this vessel has it where it counts. I also have some cargo that may be of use….” he says, bringing up a manifest. “Time is not on our side. I doubt our guests patience is unlimited.” As he scans across the cargo, he keys this comm. “I do not recall carrying any property belonging to anyone but myself. I only have passengers,” he says simply.
“Stop stalling,” the Rustborn voice replies. There’s a pause, then: “It will not take long to re-establish target lock. You will suffer for your insolence.”
Jasper observes, noting to Cygnari: “They’re unlikely to stage a truly lethal attack against your ship, considering the value of your passengers. The warlord wouldn’t like to hear that his heir perished in an attack.”
Cygnari nods. “Something I am counting on, if they want them so badly. But they won’t care about my ship or the rest of us.” he notes, his wings flaring in irritation. As he scrolls through his cargo, he stops, and scrolls back, a sly grin forming on his face as the edges of his beak curl up. “I had forgotten about that…” he says. “Perhaps we can give them something to play with.” he says, indicating a line item in his manifest. “I scavenged this from a drifting starship I found in a remote asteroid field… battered pretty badly, they had likely tried to scavenge themselves and were not prepared. However, on board they still had a functional polydenum warhead.” he says. “If we push this out the cargo airlock as we maneuver past them, then fire on it as we pull away… the resulting detonation could be most satisfying and stall them until we get out of sensor range. Meanwhile… I shall keep our friend talking.” he says as he keys the mike once again. “Stalling? Simply correcting your assumption that I am carrying Rustborn property. As I said, I am simply carrying passengers for charter.”
“You were parked aboard Iron’s End with a live warhead?” Jasper arches his eyebrows. “And volunteered to take us aboard?”
Antira gives a smirk. “Well, we didn’t exactly have a lot of options.”
Jasper sighs. “True.” He looks over his shoulder and shouts: “Kye! We’ve got a job for you!”
Over comms: “You have the child of our warlord. We have captured the image of your vessel for transmission to all affiliated craft loyal to Strel Varnak. You will find no safe harbor.”
“The child?” Cygnari says. “You expect me to simply take you at your word?” he says incredulously. “As for safe harbor… that is yet to be seen. My wings are far more agile than you realize. As I said, I simply have passengers for charter. Showing up bristling with weapons is not the best way to make a good first impression, you know.”
“But I don’t want to shove a live warhead into an airlock,” Kye Solvan protests after hearing Jasper’s explanation of the plan.
“It goes or you do,” the man in the bellhop hat responds.
“Oh, here,” Antira offers the baby to Kye. “Hold her. I’ll handle the bomb.”
The Rustborn ship arcs around, breaking weapons lock from the Lucky Talon and angling toward Iron’s End.
Cygnari raises an eyeridge as the Rustborn vessel suddenly shifts course. “What are they up to..” he grumbles, looking back to Jasper. “Something tells me they intend to perhaps use Iron’s End as a bargaining chip… or perhaps I am more persuasive than I realize.”
“I’m in position,” Antira calls from the cargo bay. “I moved the hoversled into the airlock with the warhead. Do I just hit this button?”
Cygnari speaks into the intercom. “On the control panel there is a control marked ‘Purge’. Once activated, a 15-second countdown will begin and the outer doors will open, blowing anything within out. On my signal, simply press it, and we shall give them a little present.” He grabs the controls, hits the throttle, and begins to pursue the vessel, hoping to maneuver between it and Iron’s End. Meanwhile, he gives a warning over the encrypted comm. “Marshal Rake, it seems there is someone aboard the End that is in the employ of the Rustborn. They were anticipating our departure.. one of their vessels is headed your way now. I am attempting to intervene and hopefully get them dealt with, and enable our own escape as well.”
“Understood,” Antira replies.
Over comms, Rake says: “We can see the Rustborn ship on sensors. How exactly do you plan to intervene?”
The Lucky Talon soon finds itself on a course that places it between the Rustborn ship and Iron’s End. The warship starts adjusting course to bypass Lucky Talon on the Y axis.
“Polydenum warhead dropped right on their bow, detonated with a cannon shot.” Cyngari replies, though he doubts there will be time for Rake to reply before the plan goes into effect. Slamming the throttle, he pulls up and banks to get his cargo airlock aligned with the proper trajectory.
“A what?” Rake asks. The Rustborn ship locks weapons on the drifting station.
Kye crouches next to a bunk, cradling the baby girl. “It’s gonna be okay,” he mutters. “It better be okay.”
Better to show than explain it seems… “Now!” Cygnari says into the intercom as he starts his maneuver. His cannon rotates into position, charged to take a shot at the device as soon as it falls into the Rustborn’s path.
Antira pushes the PURGE button. The countdown timer starts, with a computerized voice stating: “FIFTEEN…” She scrambles away from the cargo hold to the bunk chamber and takes the baby from Kye – who then crawls under one of the bunks. “TEN…” Antira shakes her head, settling into a couch and strapping herself into place with Siki. “FIVE…”
Jasper takes a seat in the cockpit next to Cygnari. “Good luck.”
“PURGE.”
Air gushes out of the airlock, along with the warhead, which tumbles into the path of the Rustborn vessel.
“May the winds of Falar guide my hand…” Cygnari says as he grabs the firing control, aims, and fires at the warhead when it gets as close as he dares it to be. “This should get their attention… the drive is charged, we will hit it as soon as they are racked by the detonation.”
The warhead explodes – but firing on it requires that the Lucky Talon be within relatively close range. No time to spare when it comes to making the FTL jump. The blast erupts, closer to the Rustborn ship than to Iron’s End.
The thermal radiation from the warhead scorches the hull of the Rustborn ship, vaporizing armor, blinding sensors, and crippling the weapon systems. The follow-on shockwave cracks the vessel’s hull and wrecks the maneuvering systems. It is now on an uncontrolled collision course with Iron’s End.
An electromagnetic pulse from the blast strikes Iron’s End, knocking out most communications, blinding sensors, and temporarily disabling gravity controls.
Cygnari hits the drive, the ship lurching into FTL as soon as the flash is seen… but his own sensors could detect the result. “I hope that I did not do more harm than good… but unchecked, they would have destroyed Iron’s End….”
“Perhaps,” Jasper allows, perusing the sensor readout. “But we may have crippled Iron’s End, leaving them vulnerable to inevitable retaliation when Strel finds out what happened.”
Cygnari nods solemnly, his wings sagging a bit. “A tough choice to make… but knowing Patch, she might be able to get things back in order,” he says. “They know now that we certainly have their ‘property’.” he says with a hint of disgust. “We will be their primary target… but when I commit to a deal, I keep my word.”
“The alternative would not have been much better, I expect,” Jasper replies. He turns his gaze toward the blue-white patterns of the knife edge of time and space that makes up the FTL tunnel of OtherSpace. “We’ll have to be cautious going forward, though, unless you’ve got more of those bombs just lying around.”
“They would have torn that station apart…” Cygnari says, his eyes on the readouts as they head towards their first destination. “To say nothing of the people within. We have bought them time, is my hope, time to prepare, as they pursue us. Alas, that was a one time deal…” he says sadly. “A, as an old human saying my grandfather once told me, ‘rainy day’ deal.”
“The Rustborn are not known for their diplomatic tendencies,” Jasper says, smirking. “One thing to consider: the warchief knows he will not find the child on Iron’s End. He may save any repercussions for Iron’s End until after he captures and kills us.”
“All the more incentive to keep them looking long and hard,” Cygnari says, his wings flicking a bit. “I have chosen a rather remote destination for our first stop… the world is hospitable, if not a bit savage, but the system contains a gas giant, so we may refuel. The world contains, however, what we will need most: food and water.”
“Here’s to keeping a low profile, then,” Jasper says.