Staphylococcus
[Another work in progress.
—Ed.]
Staphylococcus. An appropriate name for
such a small yet lethal ship. Danilo watched as a
blast from its forward battery vaporized the
communications array of Henry David Thoreau,
the merchant vessel he'd been aboard till two
minutes ago. "Don't fire until you see the name on
its hull," was the order. But the man who gave that
order had been blasted into his component ions,
along with the bridge of the Thoreau, long
before the small scout ship had reached visual
range.
Glancing down at the console, Danilo checked the
EmCon settings for the hundredth time. After the
hell he survived to reach the lifepod, he wasn't
about to let a stray electron betray his position.
Why abandon a burning ship in the first place if
the enemy found your lifepod just minutes
later?
He carefully tuned the radio to receive-only,
searching for any communications from the
Staphylococcus. Passing 6.66 gHz, the thick
accent of Franish suddenly coated his eardrums.
"Ne un tirazo pas. Je creo que touts sont
muertos."
Cortés DaGuerre.
At the sound of the voice, Danilo's heart sank
into the pit of his stomach, where it began
marinating in a stew of adrenaline-tinged despair.
How had the pirate found him so quickly? A glance
out the viewport revealed plasma venting from the
Thoreau's port side. Plasma—and
100 barrels of Dalian bourbon. DaGuerre's Dalian
bourbon. If he was mad enough over the theft of the
liquor to chase down Danilo, he wasn't going to be
any happier when he found out his own ship blew it
out into space.
Danilo reached up and pulled the headset off. So
this was it. Better to get it over with here than
back on Dalia Prime. He was as ready as he'd ever
be. And maybe—just maybe—he
could use DaGuerre's fury to his advantage. Much
like using a charging boxer's momentum against
him.
With a last glance out at the Thoreau,
Danilo deactivated the EmCon system. The lifepod
now glittered like a Christmas tree on any sensors
within half a light year.
Come and get me.
Development note: I've
noticed that this site doesn't look like it should
in Netscape Navigator. Rather than waste time
jury-rigging it to look right in a
soon-to-be-obsolete browser, I'll just add the
cliché "This site best viewed with Internet
Explorer."
©2003 Michael
Strickland ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED
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Today's
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Previously...
2/8:
Morning
Cup of Kofi
2/7:
Game
Over
2/6:
The
Eagle Never Landed
2/5:
Pope:
Potter No Problem
2/4:
Time
for Another Rewrite
2/3:
A
Matter of Opinions
2/2:
Suicidal
Bravado
2/1:
Godspeed,
Columbia
Archive: JANUARY
2003
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