Jason Halstead - Voidhawk

“How’s the helm?” Kragor asked him after a moment of shared silent appreciation. For years the two of them had schemed with ways to come up with enough money to buy a ship. They had even worked out a few plans to steal one, but neither was ready to be branded outlaws.

Dexter nodded. “It’s in good enough shape, though the ship’s got no power. We’ll have to charge it with a battery.”

“How fast ya think she’ll go?” Kragor asked. “Traders ain’t known for being quick, just for carrying cargo cheap as can be.”

“Aye, I’m thinking she’ll be only a little slower than the Gnat at in a gravity well,” Dexter mused. “Rigged out a little different than normal, with some good sails she should do fine. She’ll have sails big enough for a good clip between systems too.”

“It’s big for a trader, I’m guessing 5 or 10 tons more than normal,” Kragor estimated. “I ‘spect she’ll handle alright, once we get her fixed up.”

“Won’t know that till we charge her up.”

“Aye,” Kragor agreed. “Don’t suppose you’ve taken up wizarding on your spare time?”

Dexter chuckled. “Not anymore than you’ve become a man of the cloth.”

Kragor stroked his beard again. “Well, first things first, we need some wood and I need my tools! Then I can start making this wreck ready to fly. It’s going to take a fair amount of work.”

In spite of years of fantasizing of owning a ship, Dexter had only a little money saved up. A Federation Pilot made little in the way of wages. Often barely enough to pay for the necessary distractions to keep from going mad. The cost of acquiring wood to rebuild the ship proved an easier task than it was for Kragor to reclaim his tools.

He had tried reason with Jodyne, telling her that he had a big job that promised some steady money, but he had to keep quiet about it. She rightly assumed he was up to no good and that Dexter was involved. Kragor made it out with his tools while she used her trained arm to hurl all manner of objects at him. When he returned to Dexter’s room at a Federation housing building, he had to admit that he needed a place to sleep longer than he’d thought.

Their next problem came in transporting the goods. Dexter could only afford a small amount of supplies at a time, but even then the Gnat had little room for cargo. Dexter began to fear he’d be as old as Kragor before the work was done.

At least two days in a week saw them heading out to the Playground. Some nights Kragor stayed with the ship working on it all night and munching on dried meats until Dexter made his return run.

One day while traversing the Playground to fetch his friend Dexter stumbled into an ambush. Contrary to stories told around hearths with mulled ale, most ship to ship encounters in the void do not involve catapult shot and ballista bolts flying. Even the rare bombards so often talked about in story are seldom seen, let alone fired. Only the Federation and the Elven Armada ships are prone to fire at the slightest provocation. Repairs and even ammunition are too expensive for the private ship owner to run the risk.

Three small ships emerged from the background of floating rocks to close with him. Dexter quickly identified an Ant, a Dart, and the third was little more than a skiff with a sail upon it. Dexter sped up his Gnat, risking the perils of the asteroid field and trying to lose the pursuing ships. Being a Federation scout ship, Dexter was correct in assuming that his was faster than the pirates. They were very familiar with the asteroid field; however, so he was unable to lose them.

The largest one, the Ant, slammed into a pony sized rock, sending one man flying into the void and another to the deck bleeding. Broken planks of wood drifted free, bobbing in the small vessel’s gravity plane. Seeing that gave Dexter an idea.

He started choosing more dangerous areas to push through, skimming within feet of some of the larger rocks. He was unable to stretch out to maximum speed for fear of a collision, and that kept the pirates chasing him. One by one smaller rocks smashed into them all, damaging their ships and sometimes wounding their crews. Dexter’s own Gnat did not escape unharmed; several smaller rocks left cracks, scratches, and dents in the decking and hull.

Without a full sail enchanted to catch the solar wind, the strenuous chase was draining the power from the Federation Gnat at an alarming rate. The first ballista bolt came shooting close to him then and Dexter knew it was only a matter of time; he had to do something desperate. The Gnat had a light ballista mounted on its forward deck, but in order to use it he would have to leave the helm, and that meant leaving the ship drifting in an asteroid field without any guidance.

The Dart broke off, giving up the chase. Dexter grinned, feeling renewed hope, and veered towards where he knew Kragor and the Hawk’s Talon lay waiting. Now he had a plan.

Dexter flew above where the derelict was sheltered, weaving in and out of the smaller asteroids and dodging the occasional ballista bolts that were sent his way. One grazed the starboard hull, forcing his hand early. He swooped low over the shadowed depression in the asteroid.

His luck held true when a shot from the medium catapult streaked out of the shadows beneath him and hit the Ant amidships. It tore a great hole in it and broke the back of the small boat, sending two of its crew flying and knocking the third one unconscious on the helm. The Ant was barely more than broken planks floating through space.

Dexter dropped the Gnat into the depression, coming to rest near the Hawk’s Talon. The skiff landed further away, the five members of its crew leaping to the asteroid and charging towards him almost before he could get to the light ballista at the front of it. He took aim and fired, wasting no time with demanding a surrender. Dexter knew better than to try. Besides, if they did, what would he do with them?

The five pirates dodged the bolt, which bounced off the rocky ground and slammed into the skiff, imbedding itself in the wooden side of the makeshift boat. The next bolt, a larger one fired from the Hawk’s Talon, caught them off guard and skewered the first pirate through the chest.

Dexter leapt off of his Gnat, dropping the 12 feet to the ground and absorbing the landing with a flex of his knees. He threw a dagger at an approaching pirate, sticking him in the thigh, and drew his long sword to defend himself.

The pirate with the knife sticking out of his leg cursed and drew his pistol. Dexter reached for the pistol at his own side, then had to duck and parry an attack from the closest pirate charging him.

The clash of steel was drowned out by the thunder from the pirate’s flintlock pistol. Dexter staggered backwards, looking at his shaken sword arm. Rather than a gaping wound on it he saw only the untouched leather of his uniform. Understanding dawned on him when he saw that the blade of his sword was shortened by over a foot by the impact of the bullet.

“Bet you’ve never seen someone block a bullet with a sword before,” Dexter said to the pirates facing him. He circled just enough to keep his adversaries between him and the pirate that was furiously reloading his pistol.

One of the pirates looked to his companions nervously. Another bandit, the first one to attack, raised his weapon to strike and said, “I bet you ain’t never seen that either!”

He slashed out, forcing Dexter to parry his swing. Dexter’s shorter blade nearly missed the parry, forcing him off balance as he tried to counter. The other two advanced.

“I’m a Federation Navy Marine! Harm me and you’ll have the Feds on your tail!” Dexter bluffed again, trying to buy himself some time.

“You’re a Fed running rogue, and you’ve got no weapon! They’ll never know we bled you dry!”