(Welcome back. In our last installment One-Eye struggled to repair Assault Pod One while Sergeant Riker fought off Cantrellan foes. If you're new to our tale you'll want to start here.)      Captain Arcolier forced herself to sit still and kept her face impassive as she reviewed the situation. The engine pod had struck a fierce blow and the Beauteous Revenge had closed the gap while the Cantrellans focused on damage control. She could grapple the destroyer at this range and force a boarding action but the question at hand was whether it was worth the risk. There wasn't going to be much of value on a Naval ship and it would be a hard battle for little enough reward. The Cantrellans had been hit hard but the Revenge wasn't in top form right now either. Of course, she couldn't leave until she had rescued the First Marines and if they couldn't repair their Assault Pod she would have no choice but to attempt to take the destroyer. She studied the still glowing crater where the engine pod had exploded against the Cantrellan hull. "What do you think Stinky Pete? Can they take another hit without coming apart?"      "It doesn't look good," replied Stinky Pete. He nudged a control and a smaller screen pulsed brighter. A schematic rotated there, showing the Cantrellan's hull in translucent panels and interior structure picked out in blue wireframes. "The second powerplant looks to be dead center of the ship. It will take a pretty good bash to hit it, and I just can't say for certain whether the ship would break apart."      Captain Arcolier glanced at One-Eye's viewport, only recently back online. The shock waves from the antimatter explosion were dissipating and the reduced range had meant the control signals were able to punch through the interference. One-Eye was still a few minutes away from finishing the weld that would hopefully make the craft spaceworthy again. She nodded decisively. "We'll let them bring power back online then. If they do have a second tractor beam we should be able to slag the gunport before they do much to the pod." She clicked One-Eye's viewport as she continued speaking. "You hear that One-Eye? If they pull some other superweapon on us, I will personally hound you through all the planes of hell for not getting out quicker. I want to see that pod in the deep black soonest."      One-Eye nodded even as he paused the welding and spread sealant over another leg of the seam. "Aye, Captain. Believe me we're not staying because of the free drinks and willing women. As soon I think this bucket of bolts will only leak slowly I'll take her out for a spin."      "Energy readings are spiking, Cap'n," said Stinky Pete. "Looks like the backup plant is online." Even as he spoke the dim emergency lighting in One-Eye's viewport flickered and was replaced by a full-spectrum fluorescent glare.      "We'll soon find out how much fight the Cantrellans have left in them." Captain Arcolier drawled. "Port Battery, make sure you have a firing solution trained on that hole in the hull and be ready to fire on my mark. I'm hoping they aren't going to fight, but if they seem likely I want to hit them where it hurts." She clicked on Stinky Pete's schematic simulation which slid to the center of the screen, and studied the rotating wireframe. "Stinky Pete, give PB a best-estimate on what energy levels would cause a catastrophic loss of integrity. PB - be ready to fire either a full strength shot or a crippling shot that would stop just short of total breakup."      Stinky Pete saluted and then his hands flew over the console. Simulated fire from the Revenge began to stab at the spinning computer model, incrementally stronger until the hull shattered under the blow. "Mind you Cap'n, this is just a best guess simulation. I advise adding a safety margin for the weaker shot." He paused briefly, only to resume calculations at Jaimie's curt nod.      A communications icon blipped on the screen just as Stinky Pete finished his calculations. "Incoming message from the destroyer Cap'n. Shall I acknowledge?"      Captain Arcolier shook her head. "Not quite yet. We're trying to buy One-Eye as much time as possible." Wait two minutes and then put the call through. She clicked One-Eye's screen again. "Hear that? We're running out of time here One-Eye."      One-Eye shook his head, flinging zero-g droplets of sweat away from his forehead. "I know it Captain, almost done here." He turned to scan the rest of the crew. "Wilson, get everyone except for the combatants with Riker inside the Pod and strapped in. Once I finish we're going to leave in a hurry!" He turned to his final seam, his welder flashing closer to the incandescent line Michaels drew from the other side. "Michaels, as soon as we finish here I'll power the bird up. I need to you grab a couple of grenades and a satchel charge and take them to Sergeant Riker. We're going to need to close off that access for a moment while the last of us get aboard. Tell Riker I said to do whatever he feels necessary to keep them off our backs, and I don't really care if he ruins their decor in the process."      "Aye aye, sir." Michaels grinned triumphantly as the two plasma beams from their welders met. They held the fire for a second longer and then shut off the torches. One-Eye quickly scanned the weld and decided it would pass for spaceworthy under the circumstances. Around him the remaing Marines pounded into the lock. Williams passed by, carrying a wounded unconscious Marine and nodded at One-Eye.      "This is the last except for you, Michaels, Rodriguez, and Sergeant Riker. I'll have all the casualties strapped down by the time you have the engines hot, sir."      "Excellent." One-Eye straightened up and surveyed the bay. Michaels lumbered out of the pod's hatchway, encumbered by enough explosives to destroy a small continent. One-Eye bellowed in a loud command voice. "Grab whatever you can, because Marines - WE ARE LEAVING!" He quickly made his way inside the pod and began to power up the major systems. It took a couple of minutes to get everything online and just as the last of the engine sequence lights went green there was the loud CRUMP of major explosives from the mouth of the bay. Riker, Rodriguez, and Michaels all ran inside the pod, Riker slamming the door close signal with his palm as he moved past.      "First Marines, ready for departure sir!" barked Riker as he strapped his still-bloody sword to the wall. One-Eye throttled up and as Assault Pod One hovered he fired the small shipboard laser at the irised-shut portal that cut the pod off from the vacuum and the Beauteous Revenge.

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(Tune in next week to see if One-Eye can burn through the hatch and if the Cantrellans have any fight left in them!)

(See the next installment!)

(Welcome back. In our last installment Captain Arcolier had used a desperate gambit and launched an engine pod as an impromptu animatter missile. She succeeded in hitting the enemy ship, but had she struck so hard to destroy the ship and kill One-Eye and the First Marines? If you're new to our tale you'll want to start here.)      One-Eye dropped another Cantrellan soldier and took advantage of the brief respite to survey the combat. A unit of Marines was ten able bodies, counting the Sergeant. Eleven men would have been sufficient to take possession of a civilian freighter, but they were badly outnumbered aboard a Navy vessel. Two Marines had been wounded already and one looked like it might be fatal. Luckily access to the small bay was limited and their initial attack had seized the space around Assault Pod One. Sergeant Riker and his men could likely hold the access hatchway for a time, unless the Cantrellans quit playing chivalrously and gassed the bay. Hell they could simply shut the blast doors and vent the bay to space, if they wanted to simply murder the First Marines. One-Eye's only real hope was that Captain Arcolier could rescue them. And that likely meant getting Assault Pod One spaceworthy again. He shot a quick glance over at Sergeant Riker whose bulk nearly filled the access hatchway completely. "Sergeant, can you hold the access while I attempt some quick repairs? I'll need one man to assist."      Riker snapped off a crisp military nod while never taking his eyes from the hatchway. "Yessir! Michaels! Help the XO patch up the boat. Rodriguez! Step up to the plate and help me gut any Cantrellan fool enough to peek around that corner. Wilson, see what you can do for the wounded."      One-Eye nodded companionably at Michaels as the burly Marine saluted and looked over at the patch of hull that hovered to the side of the pod. Trailers of retardant foam clung to it, wavering in the gentle airflow. "Reckon we can weld that back in place, sir?"      "That's my hope," One-Eye said and broke off as Stinky Pete cried "Away!" in his earpiece. "Oh shit, they didn't . . . everyone grab some deck!" One-Eye suited action to words and dove to the deck, grabbing a pair of handles and dialing his boots up to maximal magnetic grip. He studied the floating hunk of hull closely, nervous about being so close to a large unrestrained mass. Around him the Marines all hit the deck and just in time as a massive explosion rocked the Cantrellan ship. The lighting flickered out and the air fans shut off briefly, leaving a deep silence in the darkness. The silence spoke of death in a shipboard environment, in a place where mechanical hums always lurked under conscious notice. These noises and hums were a womb to seasoned spacers; a subliminal promise of oxygen, of life, and of keeping the void at bay. A long moment passed before the fans restarted and red emergency lights flickered back on.      One-Eye exhaled in a long relieved breath as the ship's systems spun back into life. His earpiece still crackled static, telling him that communications with the Revenge were still offline. He carefully stood back up and surveyed the bay. The hull piece had struck Assault Pod One instead of any of the Marines and most of the Marines had successfully battened down before the impact. One of the casualties had been unconscious, and One-Eye groaned as he saw the broken ragdoll body stuck in the V joint of a girder above him. There had been several Cantrellan bodies left from the intense fight and the resultant gore smeared many of the walls and bulkheads. He nodded at Michaels again as he carefully walked over to the hull piece. "Let's get this patched back on, double-time. If the Cantrellans are still on emergency power we should be able to escape without getting tractored in."      The trick to zero-g repairs was to respect mass. That missing hull segment was weightless in zero-g and relatively easy to move, but it still had mass and it still had inertia. If it built up velocity it could easily crush a person. And they had to guide it back into place where the Cantrellans had cut it aside, and stop it at precisely the right moment - while under battle conditions and working fast. It was far from an ideal situation, but it was the best chance One-Eye figured they were likely to get and he dove in without hesitation.      Michaels and One-Eye got the piece in motion, creeping along with glacial speed. One-Eye longed to move it faster but he knew this was a matter for slow and steady, not for a sprint. It took several agonizing minutes to get it to the gash in the hull, and then they had to slow it to a stop and carefully rotate it until it fit the gap. A metal clash rang out from the hatchway where Sergeant Riker engaged a fresh group of Cantrellans, but One-Eye had attention only for the ponderous task at hand. He heaved a huge sigh of relief as the piece slid into place with a satisfying deep thump. Before One-Eye could speak Michaels opened the proper airlock and was retrieving the field repair kits. These kits contained small patches, some goop that could be used to seal minor punctures, and a small welding torch with self-contained oxygen reservoir.      One-Eye's earpiece crackled back into life with a burst of static. ". . . calling First Marines. Repeat, this is the Beauteous Revenge calling First Marines" came the welcome drone from Stinky Pete.      "Aye, laddie it's good to hear you," replied One-Eye with a relieved chuckle. "We're seeing if we can patch up the Pod here, what's your status?"      "We're into electro-grapple range now and the Captain wants to know if she should board?" Stinky Pete said. "One tick and we'll have the video feed back online."      Michaels slapped a repair kit into One-Eye's hands and began slathering sealant goop on one side of the cut. One-Eye cracked open his kit and mimicked the repairs on the far side. "I'd advise waiting. They seem to be on emergency power here. If we can reseal the pod, we should be able to escape in ten minutes or so. Can you see the status of their main powerplants?"      "Aye XO," Stinky Pete said with concern. "The engine must have caused a feedback surge when it hit the tractor unit. It looks like their primary plant exploded. But we see signs of a secondary plant coming online now. If they have a second tractor unit you may not have ten minutes."      "Acknowledged. Give us what you can and we'll be out of the potty as soon as we're able." One-Eye bent to his welding with a vengeance, ignoring the combat raging a few feet behind him.

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(Tune in next week to see if One-Eye can get launched before the Cantrellans get their powerplant online!)

(See the next installment!)

(Welcome back. In our last installment One-Eye and Sergeant Riker had begun to fight the Cantrellans while waiting for Captain Arcolier to come to the rescue. If you're new to our tale you'll want to start here.)      Captain Arcolier drummed her fingers impatiently on the arm of her chair, silently studying the tactical display and willing the Revenge to close with the Cantrellan destroyer. In the upper right corner One-Eye's viewpoint swam nauseatingly as he jumped through the impromptu Cantrellan hatch. She watched the opening blows of the combat with a fraction of her attention, but she knew One-Eye and the First Marines could handle themselves for a while. The problem was making sure she could arrive before the Cantrellans overwhelmed the marines with superior numbers. Making a sudden decision she clicked her pointer opposite the bay where Assault Pod One had vanished. "Port Battery. If you have a clear shot take it. The intent is not to cripple, but let's see if we can push her around a bit."      She frowned slightly as she continued to speak. "But only take it if it's a clear shot. Remember that we have crew on that bay opposite. Anybody who holes that bay had better hope they can breathe vacuum, because they'll ride home on the outside of the ship. Clear?"      She clicked One-Eye's viewport. It brightened slightly and she knew she spoke both to One-Eye and the Marines fighting aboard the unnamed destroyer. "Brace yourselves lads. We're going to give that wallowing hog of a ship a bit of a love tap. With any luck it will be a bumpy ride." One-Eye was too busy to respond but Captain Arcolier knew they would be ready when the impact hit. As One-Eye drew his sword back into a ready position the tactical display showed a crimson trace connecting the Revenge to the enemy destroyer. One-Eye's viewport tilted crazily as the destroyer shook violently. The seasoned Marines rode out the shock, knees flexing as they bobbed like cork boats sailing a choppy sea. Unfortunately the Cantrellan opponents were too canny for such a maneuver and rode out the shaking with equal aplomb.      Stinky Pete's station chimed and a small icon pulsed on the left edge of the main viewport. Captain Arcolier snapped her attention to Stinky Pete who frowned as his fingers raced over his keys. "Incoming transmission Cap'n. It's from the frigate."      She nodded sharply and took a deep breath as the icon swelled into the center area. As it grew it cross-faded from the stock communication blip into the face of a Cantrellan military captain. A sneer dominated his aquiline features as he huffed pompously. "Temper temper. You'll need longer claws than that to scare me. Might I suggest you surrender now, before anybody gets hurt?"      Captain Arcolier scowled and stood upright, drawing her rapier in the same smooth motion. As she pointed it at the camera the decking underfoot trembled and she stumbled, taking a small step to regain her balance. A muted klaxon sounded from a station behind her and warning diagnostic icons flared into life on the left edge of the screen. "Multiple laser hits!" Stinky Pete announced unnecessarily.      "Tsk," huffed the Cantrellan. "I already saw your cheap theatrics when you thought you faced an unarmed freighter. They won't impress an officer of Her Majesty's Imperial Navy. If you persist in foolishly threatening me and my ship I'll gut your ragtag little vessel. Don't believe for a moment that those were full power. Or that we don't have missile batteries. This ship is fully armed and completely operational, I assure you. Again I ask for your surrender. Come now, there's no need to be barbaric."      Captain Arcolier glared at the gloating Cantrellan officer, her lips compressed into a thin angry line. "You Cantrellans are all alike. Under pressure you act like cornered rats, but get the upper hand for even a second and you turn into the smuggest bastards the galaxy has ever seen." She scanned the the smaller images ringing the display, hoping that Stinky Pete had enough foresight to . . . Yes! a small orange icon pulsed in the upper left corner, just awaiting her approval. She made a show of slumping her shoulders and slowly replacing her rapier in it's sheath. As she maneuvered she unobtrusively clicked her pointer on the icon. As she sat back down William executed the order and the Revenge bucked sideways, sliding at full delta-V as the craft swung onto an escape vector.      Stinky Pete jabbed at his console triumphantly, crowing "Away!" as the Cantrellan gaped in surprise and rage at the sudden shift. Just as Captain Arcolier had hoped a tractor beam speared out from the destroyer, ostensibly to catch the now-fleeing Revenge. A small bit of luck was all they needed and the gods came through once more for the daring pirates. The Revenge had three main engines, all mounted on remote pylons away from the main body of the ship. This was a safety feature - keeping the antimatter safely away from the main hull. Stinky Pete had reprogrammed one engine pod to detach and aim straight back at the destroyer. The tractor beam caught the engine instead of the main ship and the full burn of the engine caused it to close with the destroyer almost unbelievably fast. William wrenched the ship around again, revving the remaining engines hard to compensate for their missing brother. Just as the engine impacted into the tractor beam barrel Stinky Pete collapsed the magnetic containment field. The antimatter hit the matter just as the kinetic force of the engine itself crumpled in the hull. A brilliant white flash erupted from the side of the Cantrellan ship and the comm signal cut off, as did the signal from One-Eye's feed.      Jaimie watched without breathing, waiting for the sensor overload to clear and to reestablish visual contact. One question remained: Had they destroyed the entire ship and doomed One-Eye and the Marines with it?

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(Tune in next week to see if there are any First Marines left to rescue!)

(See the next installment!)

(Welcome back. In our last installment Captain Arcolier had set out to rescue One-Eye and the First Marines, who were facing a Cantrellan trap. If you're new to our tale you'll want to start here.)      This was always the moment where One-Eye felt the most incongruous. Seconds ago he had been piloting a spacecraft through the inky interstellar void, traveling incomprehensible distances using mankind's most advanced technology. Now he stood watching a torch cut through the main hatch, clutching a sword straight out of some penny-dreadful novel from the Victorian era of Old Earth. Oh he knew all the arguments, that modern weaponry could all-too-easily pierce a hull and vent the atmosphere but it didn't make the transition any less jarring. Besides, there were plenty of things more high-tech than swords that could be used, all sorts of non-lethal crowd suppression gear. For that matter, the Cantrellans could simply gas the pod, either with knockout gas or with something far more lethal. No, the pirates used swords because it made for good theater. One-Eye never quite understand why the Cantrellans did, not truly. Some sort of misguided sense of culture and of chivalry. In his darker moments he theorized it was exact same reason as the pirates - simple theater. He shook his head, clearing it of this useless reverie as the intense torch flame closed the rough circle it traced. He glanced over at Sergeant Riker, a roguish grin crossing his features. "Reckon it's time to show these laddies the depth of their mistake? Attempting to fight against the Beauteous Revenge? That's just foolishness."

     Riker nodded grimly, drawing his sword upwards in a rough salute. "Aye sir, they'll learn soon enough." Without taking his eyes from the hatch he barked orders at the rest of the Marines. "You heard him you lazy roustabouts! Today we earn our pay, and tomorrow these sons of mangy dogs will respect the name of the First Marines of the Beauteous Revenge. We'll be outnumbered and it's a long while before the cavalry gets here, so fight hard and fight dirty."

     "We're outnumbered and on our own. So this must be Tuesday again." came a waggish reply from the massed crew. Riker grinned a reply as the thick piece of hull finally broke free. Riker nodded again, this time eying a Marine who stood just to one side of the hatch. He slammed on the free-floating piece of hull with a halberd and strained, his feet thrust through tough fabric loops on the floor. In freefall the hatch floated away from the pod. If they were very lucky and the Cantrellans were very stupid somebody might get caught on the still red-hot glowing edges. The Marines listened carefully but were rewarded with no curses or screams. The Cantrellans weren't that stupid, and instead a fine spray of cooling gases and flame retardants hit the rough-carved edges of the hull. Steam billowed from the sullen cherry cuts and the entire hole disappeared into a white cloud for a brief moment.

     An amplified voice carried through the hissing steam. "By the authority of Her Majesty, the Empress of Cantrella you are all under arrest. Lay down your arms and step out of the craft with your hands up! Failure to comply will result in the usage of force!"

     "Oh, it's to be force is it? In that case I'd think we want to stay armed, wouldn't we?" One-Eye darted a quick glance at Riker and a miniscule nod. Like synchronized clockwork both men launched off the deck and sailed through the ugly hole. One-Eye quickly evaluated the edge and decided it had cooled enough to touch briefly and hooked the edge with a steel-toed boot as he went through. It was a quick motion but it pulled him to the left and altered his trajectory just enough to surprise the Cantrellan soldier standing hard outside the white hazy cloud. He twisted at the waist and brought his boots close enough to the decking for his boot magnets to latch down. The last of his momentum was used to spit the young soldier in the thigh with his sword. The soldier, no older than William back on the deck of the Revenge went down, his face suddenly ashen. But he was a non-combatant, and he would live. One-Eye had no patience for the type of officer who would send a boy that green to face battle. He heard Riker's battle cry from the other side of the fog and the rejoining cry from the other Marines as they began to boil through the small opening as fast as possible.

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(Tune in next week to see if One-Eye can fight off the Cantrellan assault!)

(See the next installment!)

(Welcome back. In our last installment Captain Arcolier had dispatched One-Eye and a crew of Marines to board the hapless frigate. If you're new to our tale you'll want to start here)      Captain Arcolier brooded from her perch in the center of the bridge. The raid so far was textbook perfect - almost too perfect. The escorts were out of the action, the prey was firmly tractored in position, and the Marines would be boarding in just a few minutes. Her biggest worry should be that this raid was going to be too dull, not enough to keep a fan's interest. But she couldn't shake a feeling of impending doom, of something that wasn't right. She shook her head minutely, annoyed at herself. Here she was, the most notorious pirate of the Far Reaches and she's jumping at shadows like some wrung out old washerwoman! She resolved to focus more on the situation at hand just as Stinky Pete blipped a comm alert onto the main screen.

     "Cap'n, incoming transmission from the frigate. Shall I acknowledge?"

     Jaimie took a quick moment to review herself, making sure the pirate image was firmly in place before responding. She straightened her sleeves slightly and made sure the cuffs were aligned perfectly before nodding curtly at Stinky Pete. Her eyes stayed fixed forward as the tactical display shrunk into the lower left corner and the strobing comm alert swelled to fill the screen. A standard communications header blinked out and was replaced with the nervous visage of a mercantile captain. He started to stutter something ineffectual, but Jaimie cut him off dramatically.

     "You face Captain Arcolier and the Beauteous Revenge. Yield your goods and ship to us or face certain doom!" She smoothly drew her rapier and pointed it at the viewscreen, the tip unerringly pointed at the captain's projected eye. The entire comm system was rigged to make this image work in reverse, and there was a special light programmed to track her rapier, giving the tip an evil, sparking glow. Jaimie had spent hours practicing this move, and calibrating the camera and lights to make this shot as menacing as possible. It often paid off and it did this time, as the stuttering sheep of a captain fell silent and visibly gulped in fear.

     "Carruther and Son's has a standard ransom policy and I'd be more than happy . . . " the captain bleated, his eyes never leaving that shining point, the manifest symbol of his impending doom.

     Captain Arcolier cut off his nattering and even as she spoke she began to subtly move the rapier point in a arc. It was almost subliminal, barely noticeable and yet utterly hypnotic. Her market research showed this motion held attention better and upped her menace levels, while going unnoticed by over ninety-eight percent of the observers. Her episodes aired with multiple angles and during these segments a sizable percentage of consumers chose to see her from the transmission perspective, seeing the holos as the victim saw them. She knew this was pure theater but if theater bought reaction mass for the Revenge then she was happy to use it. "We're not interested in your ransom, we're interested in your cargo. Your cargo and your ship."

     "B-b-b-but . . . M-M-Mister Carruthers . . . ." Captain Arcolier made a chopping motion with her free hand and Stinky Pete broke the transmission, cutting the stutter off mid-gabble. The tactical display slid smoothly back into predominance. Assault Pod One had almost closed the distance, although it wasn't visible to the naked eye at the scale of the display. The display was fed from from a remote satellite and the Frigate dwarfed the Revenge, much less a tiny Assault Pod. The computer enhancement magnified an area of space around the Pod though, and through that little mockup ring Captain Arcolier could see precise bursts of attitude jets as One-Eye flipped the Pod around to begin deceleration.

     "First Assault Pod - status report." Captain Arcolier spoke with a clipped precision, coolly surveying all the displays at her disposal. The corner view of One-Eye brightened slightly as he spoke.

     "Textbook approach so far Cap'n. I've just finished reorienting for braking, and I anticipate hull contact in two minutes." One-Eye didn't even look up as he spoke and his hands flew over the instrument panels, constantly tweaking and nudging the approach vector to be more to his liking.

     Captain Arcolier nodded. "Carry on then. Make us all proud." She turned in her seat, looking to side where Stinky Pete manned the communications board. "Any surrender yet?"

     Stinky Pete scowled and shook his head. "No Cap'n. We've had no communication since you spoke to the mark."

     Jaimie furrowed her brow as she contemplated that. Most mercantile captains took a few seconds to consider their situation, wet their pants, and then surrender. Radio silence almost implied a hidden reservoir of backbone. She returned to studying the tactical display as her feeling of disquiet returned in double strength. This time though . . . she frowned as she grabbed her pointer and clicked at a portion of the frigate's bow. The display zoomed in, until the blunt hammerhead shape of the frigate's forward hold filled her viewscreen. She scrolled the view aft and suddenly stopped. Her face paled for an instant as she delicately traced an odd seam in the hull. "Shit! Full combat alarms! One-Eye, get your ass back here. That ship is a decoy! A feint! Tractor beam, disengage immediately!"

     Bedlam erupted in the ship, as the lights dimmed even further and a muted klaxon began to cycle. The tactical view zoomed back to the default setting where the zoomed view showed Assault Pod One already in a hard burn. But before Jaimie's horrified eyes a second tractor beam stabbed out from the "frigate" and trapped Assault Pod One in its forceful grip. And aboard the Revenge the crew was a beat too late to release the tractor beam. The forward hull broke off the "frigate" just along the line Captain Arcolier had traced, revealing the thinner profile of

     a Cantrellan destroyer. Other portions of the frigate lines broke off as well, as the destroyer heeled hard to port and accelerated, pulling Assault Pod One with it.

     Impelled by the tractor beam and no longer attached to the destroyer the forward hull began to accelerate towards the Revenge. Spectrometer readings indicated it was abnormally massive and it sported its own engine as it began to rocket right straight at the pirate ship. Belatedly the tractor beam blinked out, but the false hull continued to close the gap.

     "Evasive action! Don't let that get close!" Captain Arcolier clenched her hands over the arms of her chair as Revenge lurched forward and began to roll.

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(Tune in next week to see if Captain Arcolier discovered the ruse in time!)

(Next week's installment is live! Check it out here)