R.S.S. Konstantinov -- Over Bahamut, Nokgorka
His ship is burning.
His ship is burning, and in the heartbeats of silence between explosions, Skymarshall Urik Antares prowls the length of the observation deck, the controlled chaos of the Konstantinov's command center sealed away behind blast doors.
Another blast, and his hands shoot out to brace himself against the railing, holding himself upright as the great skyfurnace shudders her way forward.
Damn-- too close-- too close, and will she hold--
"Torin," he shouts into the red haze of the running 'com protocol, "damage report."
The Chief Engineer's voice snaps back over the comm: "Sector Bravo Six! Isolator Decks A to G on fire-- handling it now. Sector Gamma Nine! Furnace 451 overheating fifty percent past redline-- rear sector seven two seven: engine one at critical-- sir, we've--"
"Keep her flying," the Skymarshall bellows, as the Konstantinov's deck bucks wildly beneath him in the wake of a fresh round of explosions. "No more damage reports! If we start free-falling, I'll be the first to know!"
He hears the Chief Engineer's static-blurred affirmation, then lets the comm channel close off, opens a new channel--
"Maya! How much longer until we can gatekast the hell out of here?"
Maya's red-tinted comm window is barely keeping up with her face as she moves from station to station within the command center. "Be aware that with the remaining 'kasters, we have only one gatekast protocol! Repeat! We have one chance to gate out!"
No time to think about the implications of 'one chance', no time-- "Order the 21st isolator battery to fire on the Taktarov--"
"The 21st is one of the outfits that turned down our little invitation!" Maya snaps, and then she's gone.
The Skymarshall bites back a curse and opens a broadband channel: "Fifth battery! Fire at will!"
His ship rumbles as if in response.
The comm crackles as a new channel opens itself-- "Informkast to Skymarshall Antares! The Taktarov is moving alongside! They're--"
Urik's face splits into a hunter's merciless smile. "Preparing to board?"
"Yes sir!"
So they think we are crippled-- they think they have already killed us--
"Antares to Captain Zubov!"
"Zubov here, sir!" Even comm distortion can't fully disguise the exuberance in the Master of Arms' face.
"Get up here with your squad and prepare to repel boarders-- and someone bring me my goddamn guns!"
"Yes sir!"
Half of Zubov's squad are down on the decks, wounded or dead, and still the siege gates drop the Taktarov's men onto his ship. Urik's guns blaze in his hands-- at least, he thinks, snapping in another ammunition clip with fingers made slippery by blood, if we die, we die--
"Urik!" He can barely hear his sister-in-law over the gunfire. "Urik, it's Maya! Where the hell are you?"
"Top deck, zone three," the Skymarshall shouts. "Status on that goddamned gatekast! I'm trying to save my brother, not massacre--"
"How much longer can you hold out?"
"Depends on how much longer-- goddamnit, speak of the--"
The blue ripples of five new siege gates unfurl above him, dropping a fresh wave of Taktarov boarding parties--outnumbered by half and half again, Urik realizes, and opens fire. Time to even those odds!
"Informkast to Skymarshall Antares!"
The comm's tagged the source of the transmission, and the soldier's face is familiar-- "Drop the formalities and report, Lieutenant!"
"Breach in the command decks, uh, sir. Invasion bridge locking onto deck block 30:39."
"Dammit," Urik swears, firing as fast as he can lock targets. "Anyone in the area?"
"Uh, no one but the enemy squad crossing the expanse, sir--"
"Was that supposed to be funny."
"Sir?"
A new comm line opens, and Urik's eyes flick to the source--
"Kyuzo here. I'll handle the boarding party on block three-nine."
"Kyuzo!" The Skymarshall's shoulders bow for a moment in relief. "Where the hell have you been!"
"Had to stop the 'gorka from growing wings, sir."
Urik snorts. "A few hours of freedom and they're all comedians."
The comm line closes, and still his guns roar.
His ship is burning, and in the heartbeats of silence between explosions, Skymarshall Urik Antares prowls the length of the observation deck, the controlled chaos of the Konstantinov's command center sealed away behind blast doors.
Another blast, and his hands shoot out to brace himself against the railing, holding himself upright as the great skyfurnace shudders her way forward.
Damn-- too close-- too close, and will she hold--
"Torin," he shouts into the red haze of the running 'com protocol, "damage report."
The Chief Engineer's voice snaps back over the comm: "Sector Bravo Six! Isolator Decks A to G on fire-- handling it now. Sector Gamma Nine! Furnace 451 overheating fifty percent past redline-- rear sector seven two seven: engine one at critical-- sir, we've--"
"Keep her flying," the Skymarshall bellows, as the Konstantinov's deck bucks wildly beneath him in the wake of a fresh round of explosions. "No more damage reports! If we start free-falling, I'll be the first to know!"
He hears the Chief Engineer's static-blurred affirmation, then lets the comm channel close off, opens a new channel--
"Maya! How much longer until we can gatekast the hell out of here?"
Maya's red-tinted comm window is barely keeping up with her face as she moves from station to station within the command center. "Be aware that with the remaining 'kasters, we have only one gatekast protocol! Repeat! We have one chance to gate out!"
No time to think about the implications of 'one chance', no time-- "Order the 21st isolator battery to fire on the Taktarov--"
"The 21st is one of the outfits that turned down our little invitation!" Maya snaps, and then she's gone.
The Skymarshall bites back a curse and opens a broadband channel: "Fifth battery! Fire at will!"
His ship rumbles as if in response.
The comm crackles as a new channel opens itself-- "Informkast to Skymarshall Antares! The Taktarov is moving alongside! They're--"
Urik's face splits into a hunter's merciless smile. "Preparing to board?"
"Yes sir!"
So they think we are crippled-- they think they have already killed us--
"Antares to Captain Zubov!"
"Zubov here, sir!" Even comm distortion can't fully disguise the exuberance in the Master of Arms' face.
"Get up here with your squad and prepare to repel boarders-- and someone bring me my goddamn guns!"
"Yes sir!"
Half of Zubov's squad are down on the decks, wounded or dead, and still the siege gates drop the Taktarov's men onto his ship. Urik's guns blaze in his hands-- at least, he thinks, snapping in another ammunition clip with fingers made slippery by blood, if we die, we die--
"Urik!" He can barely hear his sister-in-law over the gunfire. "Urik, it's Maya! Where the hell are you?"
"Top deck, zone three," the Skymarshall shouts. "Status on that goddamned gatekast! I'm trying to save my brother, not massacre--"
"How much longer can you hold out?"
"Depends on how much longer-- goddamnit, speak of the--"
The blue ripples of five new siege gates unfurl above him, dropping a fresh wave of Taktarov boarding parties--outnumbered by half and half again, Urik realizes, and opens fire. Time to even those odds!
"Informkast to Skymarshall Antares!"
The comm's tagged the source of the transmission, and the soldier's face is familiar-- "Drop the formalities and report, Lieutenant!"
"Breach in the command decks, uh, sir. Invasion bridge locking onto deck block 30:39."
"Dammit," Urik swears, firing as fast as he can lock targets. "Anyone in the area?"
"Uh, no one but the enemy squad crossing the expanse, sir--"
"Was that supposed to be funny."
"Sir?"
A new comm line opens, and Urik's eyes flick to the source--
"Kyuzo here. I'll handle the boarding party on block three-nine."
"Kyuzo!" The Skymarshall's shoulders bow for a moment in relief. "Where the hell have you been!"
"Had to stop the 'gorka from growing wings, sir."
Urik snorts. "A few hours of freedom and they're all comedians."
The comm line closes, and still his guns roar.