Jon Messenger - Burden of Sisyphus

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His jaw dropping in surprise, Captain Hallith quickly barked orders to the crew. “Helm, bring us fully around and give me full speed! Tactics, arm all weapons systems!”

He tugged hastily at his microphone, nearly pulling it from the wall. “All hands to battle stations! Terran destroyers have crossed the Demilitarized Zone! This is not a drill!”

The captain shook, as the Liberator accelerated, slowly building forward momentum from its worn engines. The forward view screen spun to reveal the space behind, showing the six destroyers moving steadily closer. No longer magnified, they bristled with weapons ports at the bow of each ship.

As the six ships came within range, the lead destroyer fired a single rocket. Captain Hallith saw it.

“Evasive maneuvers! Brace for impact!”

Quickly covering the distance between the two ships, the plasma rocket’s internal computer activated, directing the missile toward the Liberator’s leftmost engine. The antiquated ship was unable to move quickly enough to get out of range before the rocket drove into the massive rear exhaust, plunging into the superheated liquid plasma fueling the engines.

Everyone onboard felt a jarring shake, as the missile struck the engine. Though Captain Hallith gritted his teeth tightly together, anticipating a ship-shattering explosion, it never came. Slowly, his hands released their death grip on the captain’s chair.

“Give me a status report!”

The communications officer activated the ship’s internal communications. A myriad of shouts and screams came from the engine room. As Captain Hallith listened, he was taken aback to find they were yells of surprise, not pain.

Within the two-story engine, the metal tip of the rocket crumpled, as it struck the burning liquid fuel, exposing a resilient dark canister within. Small explosives detonated around the perimeter of the canister, spilling forth gallons of dark fluid.

The viscous, oily substance slowed into the superheated plasma, where it began bubbling violently. Slowly, the fluid turned tar-like spreading into the engine. Everywhere it touched, it converted molten plasma into thick tar, jamming everything.

He heard shouts from a sea of frightened mechanics and engineers in the engine room. Vibrations rolled through the ship, as it lost speed. On the view screen, the Terran destroyers closed the distance faster than before.

“Sir, we’re losing speed!” the navigator shouted. “The left engine is completely unresponsive.”

His voice faded into muted oblivion, as Captain Hallith watched weapon ports on all six Terran ships open simultaneously. Dozens of rockets launched from each, their smoking trails filling the screen with crisscrossing pathways. In their own hidden language, the smoky trails spelled death for the Liberator.

“Gods save us,” the captain muttered, as the first rocket slammed into the limping Alliance cruiser.

Metal plates buckled, as plasma explosions blossomed across the ship’s length. Burning oxygen vented into space through hull breaches. Fire roared through the corridors, burning crewmen alive, as they fled one explosion only to be caught in another.

The captain watched in dismay, as missile after missile struck the Liberator, until, gratefully, one ended his consternation by splitting the hull above the bridge. He and his bridge crew were obliterated by the subsequent plasma explosion, which saved them a more-arduous death, as their bodies were sucked through the gaping hull into the void of space.

As the plasma blossoms cooled, debris from the former Alliance cruiser drifted aimlessly in space. The Terran destroyers flew past, seeking their next target.

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