Joely Sue Burkhart

I’ve decided not to post any more of The Fire Within.  I plan to send it to Drollerie as soon as I get it finished and polished, so I can’t post the whole thing here.    However, I have a short story I wrote earlier in the year that I’m going to share over the next few weeks in its entirety, and then I’ll put it in a .pdf over in Free Reads.

This is my attempt at a space pirate, sort of a ”Moby Dick meets Sleeping Beauty in Space.”

“Charge the ion cannon,” Captain Rackman ordered. The frigate’s hull loomed ahead, filling the viewscreen like some dark storm on the horizon. “Any mercs about?”

His first officer squealed so shrilly that the new navigator sitting beside him winced. After flying together all these years and surviving hell, Rackman knew the Quag’s language well enough to recognize “no” before the computer’s translation. Although Kermit didn’t have to respond quite so enthusiastically.

Briggs kept his gaze locked on the controls before him. “There’s four scatter guns down the sides and a monster cannon aft that’ll shred our shields. Are you sure this–”

“Bring us in hard and fast beneath,” Rackman broke in. He still wasn’t sure how to read the new man. Briggs could definitely fly, but he wasn’t meshing with the ship’s crew, especially Kermit. The man couldn’t even look at the Quag without flinching. “The Obsession can outmaneuver this hunk of junk. That’s what I hired you for, Briggs.”

“But Captain–”

“You heard me, Briggs.”

Briggs muttered but his hands flew over the panel entering the flight information. “This boat’d better be loaded down with a cache of guns and meds.”

One small item in the frigate’s cargo was priceless, at least to Rackman. His pulse raced and the old burn scars across his cheek tightened. So close.

A quick flurry of fluted whistles from Kermit was interpreted by the tinned computer voice. “They spotted us, Rack.”

Briggs sent the Obsession under the frigate so close a hard sneeze would collide their small ship into the monster’s belly. The smaller guns peppered their shields, hissing and flaring.

More whistles translated to, “Shields holding.”

Briggs wheeled the ship up and around the frigate, zigzagging to miss as much fire as possible. “Where are the engines, Captain?”

Ah, now came the dicey part of this mission. Rackman let a small smile curve his lips. “Aft. Right beneath the big gun.”

“Are you crazy?”

Kermit made a sound like a large, juicy burp. Thankfully, Rackman had removed that particular word from the computer’s database.

“Get us as close as possible and with one shot we’ll bring down the whole ship.”

Muttering, Briggs tightened the ship’s course even more, barely skimming the frigate’s hull. Dead ahead, a glowing nimbus surrounded a three-foot-wide barrel. Red blazed to gold, searing Rack’s eyes and tightening the muscles in his scarred cheek until his mouth twisted into a grimace.

Kermit held his three-fingered right hand over the ion cannon’s detonator. An eye rolled back, watching Rackman expectantly.

Briggs swiped sweat out of his eyes. “Captain!”

“Sometimes you have to take a hit to win the fight,” Rackman whispered.

“The shields–”

“They’ll hold.” I hope. Rackman smiled even though it felt like his face would split open. Hope was something he lost a long time ago. “Brace for impact.”

The nimbus turned blue, burned toward violet, and the intense wave enveloped the Obsession. The ship shuddered. Alarms shrilled. Briggs cursed and when he wiped sweat out of his eyes, his hand trembled.

Kermit’s hands flew over the panel and he chirped reports too fast for Rackman to translate without the computer’s assistance. “Shields to twenty percent. Structural damage in the engine room. Speed dropping. Secondary engine is firing up, and crew is responding now.”

“Keep our heading dead ahead. On my mark, drop our shields entirely.”

Briggs whirled around, eyes wide and face clammy. “We can’t survive another shot!”

“We won’t have to.” Mentally, Rackman counted the seconds, watching the cannon recharge, recalculating the window of opportunity with their decreased speed.

Briggs was a mistake, though. No fine flying could make up for his lack of courage. Under pressure, the man turned into bracken swamp water fit for the Quag.

Rackman snapped, “Man your station!”

Briggs jerked around, his shoulders hunched.

The glow intensified toward blue again, blazing in Rackman’s eyes. They had to be close enough to fully disable the engines and the guns. Another second… “Drop shields! Fire!”

Kermit depressed the igniter, and the hull hummed beneath Rackman’s feet. Raging blue-violet shone brighter, swelling, only to sputter. The glow about the big gun dissipated and lights failed on the frigate’s hull.

“Status, Kermit?”

“The frigate is dead in the water, Rack.”

“And the Obsession?”

“Hyperdrive is inoperable. Crew expects an hour or two of work to bring systems online.” Kermit paused his whistles while the computer translated. “No casualties. Boarding party standing by.”

At last. Rackman smiled. The final puzzle piece was within his grasp. “Excellent. Tell them I’m on my way. Kermit, you have the helm.”