Calamity

Prologue

he year is Twenty-three After Cataclysm, seventeen percent of the race, Homo sapiens Sapiens, have survived the dreadful cataclysm which is finally subsiding on Earth. They survived only by facing the uncharted void of space, taking with them the seed of both animals and plants to make their new homes, scattered throughout the galaxies planets.

Two hundred years before the Earth's upheaval, the human race began its preparations for escape. At first secrecy was maintained until just seven years before the predicted disaster when a leak occurred and hysteria ensued. Nations attacked each other in their confusion, millions died, only a few managed to escape on the Star ships built for the exodus of the human race.

Thus, the human race survived nature's brutality where the dinosaurs before them had failed. But on Mother Earth those few who survived degenerated into barbarians through the following years. The learned became fewer, magic abounded, disease grew rife and tribal wars raged once more.

Those in the void settled the planets quickly creating their own atmospheres where necessary, introducing the flora and fauna of Mother Earth to their new homes. New industries arose, space became as the spice routes so long ago on Mother Earth, bustling with the trade of life, pirates preying on the unwary, ruthlessness yielding wealth and wealth, in turn, yielding power.

Now the new nations are well established, based on planets rather than mere continents, Corporations are as powerful as nations, often using planets as their bases. Trade is the life blood of all, including pirates and rogues. Spaceports have become planetary capitals, carrying with them the high life of officials and traders and the low life of vagabonds and pimps. Religious forces have come to the fore again in mimicry of Mother Earth. The religious factions now act as neutral arbitrators between planets, the Zealot armies backing decisions; a strict form of government.

Life is hard, the survivors desperate, the rich powerful. Adventure is available for the adventurous, the risks are high but the rewards for the victors are higher.

Chapter One

Watching the sleek craft rapidly approaching, the trail of its ion drive tapering to an invisible point far behind, she listened lazily to the urgent voice echoing from the bridge's intercom. "Spink, get ready to move, they're onto us!" "Always in a rush that boy.", she mused, rising from the padded crash couch in one fluid motion. The intercom fell silent, only the sound of her leather clad thighs brushing together as she strode purposefully to the main console to be heard. Dexterously, she passed her slender, white fingers over the sensors, preparing the galleon for their timely exit.

A fine layer of sweat covering his brow, Quine glanced nervously into the rear screen to see the pursuit ships bursting through the planet's atmosphere, with hurried yet perfectly precise motions he ordered his tiny scout ship to dock with the galleon, where Spink would be awaiting him.

As the airlock wheezed open, Quine dashed into the corridor, heading for the bridge, not bothering to complete the scout ship's docking procedure. He looked up in time to see Spink staring with approval at him before he felt the jolt of the galleon's ancient atomic motors crashing into action. He thought momentarily of the exhaust from the galleon's motors, it would vapourise anything in its path, but not the Synth-Ceram hulls of the pursuing ships, that is.

Standing at the far end of the corridor, Spink let her hazel eyes roam across Quine's body as he rushed headlong at her. She'd trained him well, obviously since he had gotten back to the galleon. Despite his training he still persisted in maintaining the impatience of the Petty Vagabond he had once, been before she had found him and taught him the skills of a Rogue Trader, never the less he was good. Perhaps too good. His long, rapid strides brought him close to her, his muscles standing out through the black leather trader's suit, his blonde hair brushed back across his head, his grey eyes leaping with humour and excitement, making his handsome features becalming and beguiling to the unwary.

Spink was openly staring at him again, why he didn't know, he couldn't understand her behaviour lately, why did she insist on standing so close to him whenever she could? He had to admit that Spink herself was an eye catching sight. Standing four cubits tall, almost as tall as himself, her raven black hair, flecked with grey about her temples, falling freely across her shoulders. The prominence of her high breasts and full hips through the tight black trader's suit confirmed her youthfulness despite her confident aura of age.

The momentary respite passed as their eyes locked and both knew this would be a close call, the old galleon would have difficulty escaping these modern fighting craft, The Organization's Chaser class pursuit ship. Turning as one, the pair entered the bridge and took their places, Spink with the motors, coaxing life into them with her feminine touch and Quine at the cannon and shield beamers.

Chapter Two

The heavy set man punched clumsily at the delicate message screen buttons, lights went on across the panel showing the pursuit ships as all in contact. After straightening his white helmet and smoothing his brown Commander's suits he switched on the message screen and spoke to the eager young pilots. "Prepare to attack the galleon, don't play with it just destroy it, Altruso Corp. can't afford losses to the Rogue Traders and can't afford to lose any more Chasers. Remember, those old atomic jobs explode so watch the blast when it goes up. Altar H. out!" Altar H. turned to regard the quaking Zealot behind him. The Zealot, a trained warrior, trained to fear nothing and to welcome death, the conjunction of his soul with that of Dramen his God, felt fear now as the eyes of Altar H. bored into him like lasers. "Here freak." blasted Altar H. as he threw a large package, obviously paper money, a form of currency useful only for untraceables, such as bribes. The Zealot deftly caught the package in his left hand and hastily backed from the command centre, stuffing the package in his green waistband.

Chapter Three

The red clad pilots maneuvered their craft into combat position, gently depressing buttons. Outside, in the openness of space, a single panel slid open on the nose of each craft, revealing the muzzle of a laser cannon. Seven laser cannons oriented on the galleon, a semi-circle of death closing quickly with the old galleon.

Quine watched their pursuers forming the semi-circle behind the galleon, a standard tactic, too wide a front to protect the galleon using the solitary shield beam. He thought further, they must be inexperienced combat pilots, never having encountered an atomic engine before. Spink was keeping the light sails furled to avoid them sustaining much damage, just as long as she could keep the motors running they should have a chance.

The captain ordered the Chasers to fire at will, their beams lancing toward the old ship. There was an instant response from the galleon, surprising the young pilots, this galleon, 'The Margarita', had obviously been refitted with modern weaponry. One of the Chasers erupted in a shrinking ball of light the instant the galleon's beam made contact with its hull.

Quine managed to absorb two of the incoming beams and three others were absorbed in the blast area of the atomic motors, if young pilots hadn't known that the atomic flares of the engines would absorb the pitiful glow of the laser beams, they certainly knew it now. The other two beams struck the galleons body, rocking the ship sickeningly.

"Seven seconds to light speed." announced Spink, ignoring her surroundings.

The young pilots realized their mistake, no damage would be done to the galleon's aft, they'd have to reposition. Hastily, without thought the young captain ordered his crews to reposition.

"Definitely green," mumbled Quine as he loosed another beam from the Margarita's cannon, "an old hand wouldn't have done that" he continued as the bolt vapourised one Chaser crossing the firing path of anther as they repositioned within firing range. Using the others temporary blindness, Quine let it travel into the shield beams radius, catching both the Chaser and an incoming bolt. A bright glow rose from the shield as it laboured to digest its latest offering. When his sight returned, Quine saw the remaining Chasers had reformed, this time around the bow of the galleon.

Spink's calm voice sheared through the haze in Quine's mind, "Two seconds to light speed."

Another volley of laser bolts blazed through the void to hit The Margarita squarely amidships, tossing her passengers solidly against their crash couches. Spink struggled maintain her fragile control over the ship, Quine could see the lines of strain marring her perfect brow from the corner of his eye.

Using the young pilots' moment of triumph to his advantage, Quine fired the scattercannon at the remaining Chasers, providing a sheet of light, harmless to Synth-Ceram but dazzling to the pilots. "Hurry Spink!", he spat as he struggled to maintain the barrier between them and the spreading arc of Chasers.

Sweat now beading upon her brow, Spink whispered, "How about now?" as she punched at the hyperspace control pad. For sickening moments nothing happened, the Chasers became increasingly visible as the scattercannon's hail of light dwindled as the cannon over heated. Then just as the Chasers were realigning on their re-sighted victim, the view screen blanked out to a single red mass as they entered hyperspace.

Chapter Four

Spink and Quine released themselves from their crash couches and walked shakily from the bridge to the ship's bar. Settling back into the plush couch, drink in hand, Quine let out an audible sigh and said, "Thank the Stars, that was a close one, never thought we'd make it out".

Turning away from him, to hide the over large drink and the way she worried at her lower lip, Spink replied in a nervous voice, "Yes, we escaped alright, but the damage was pretty bad."

"Oh, what got fried then, well we'll get it fixed when we get there. By the way where is there?".

Spink shuffled her feet and said quietly, "It,..it was the hyperdrive which got fried!"