Written from the perspective of the pirates’ captain.
“Docking now, boss.” The radio chirped, and the fact was felt through the entire ship. The pirate captain glanced at one of the monitors showing the starboard. A pair of scouts, only one armed, had submitted to their “inspection” and meekly agreed. He smiled, certain that a pair of scouts would have something they could take off them, and wouldn’t likely put up much fight.
The captain keyed the intercom to reply. “Severic and the others ready down there?”
“They still need a few, arming up in case of, ya know.”
The captain glanced at the monitor at the docked vessel Flea. It didn’t look like it or its crew would put up much of a fight, but the scouts had surprises sometimes. They used small crews too. Still, a show of force went a long way. “Fine. Time?”
“Ten minutes. We’ll keep ya posted. Channel 10.” The captain switched on the transceiver, hearing the low crackle of static, and turned it down. Soon, he'll turn it back up. He then sat back to wait. The murmur of other bridge crew fed a variety of status information back and forth, checking on the Model/3 computer displays. Several of the displays showed muted error messages, error codes, messages that made no sense to most of them. Easier to reboot automatically than attempt to figure out what was causing it. A long term problem, for later.
As he watched another error showed up, indicating an airlock on the other side of the vessel. Automatically a crewman muted the buzzer, giving it little more than a glance. Typically that system did not act up. That elicited a grimace from the captain, irritated more at the vessel than the crew. Problems everywhere.
He plugged in a headset and paged the video feed to engineering. “Engineering,” a woman answered. The melodies of her voice raised his spirits, as he relayed the error. She frowned, and glanced through her console. “Larboard airlock appears fine. No loss or leak of atmosphere. Still, if you could bring our Sapphire to the bridge. She wants attention from one of us.”
“Yes dear. Doing it now.” Heaving himself for the door, he returned in a few minutes with a bright eyed girl, who hopped between the deck and ceiling plates easily, asking her ‘uncles’ to show her what they were doing, at each station. The captain smiled at her with his crew. She would be a fine sailor and captain herself one day she always said. And he saw the potential in her for it.
“Boss,” crackled quietly from the radio into the cavernous space, and he turned up the transceiver, asking for a repeat. “Boss, we're ready down here. Entering in 10.” He counted down, by habit, and when he reached zero counted up to five. His mind drifted back to images of the Dread Pirate Sapphire--
“AMBUSH! AMBU-” A number of gunshots rang out over the radio and from the intercom followed by “Shit, they’re down!” The captain roughly pushed his daughter in that moment into an acceleration couch, and dived into his station. The grainy feed showed Ivan attempting to close the door before he’s grabbed and caught by one of the scout crew, forcing their way through the airlock.
Shots rang from out of frame, and one of the scouts slumped to the floor, but two more joined the first and took up position just inside. The burst of fire was heard through the bulkheads this time, some harshly ringing, others dull THUMPs.
And then a deluge of alarms and shouts began. The entire vessel reverberated with sudden violence, and a gunner reported loss of control of a turret. The electronics officer reported the second scout was maneuvering close and had fired, and warned of a third contact right on top of them. Engineering reported the airlock on the other side had blown all of a sudden, venting to the void. Into pandemonium, he instructed, “Seal doors to bridge and engineering! To flank speed! NOW!”
The navigator lunged at the door, and sealed it shut, before lunging back to his station. The engineer reported, “Sealed, go!” And with that, the engines kicked in, pushing them up to 6Gs of acceleration.
He kept his head straight, and breathed slowly, trying to figure what to do. The docked scout and gantry tore away, and the other scout could not keep up, but would still find themselves in range of their guns, perhaps if they destroyed them…
“The venting has stopped. Atmosphere is below ideal, but survivable,” His wife said. His eyes swiveled to the screen, where she fought through the Gs, turning dials and spinning the reactor up for combat purposes. “I cannot locate the second group of boarders Bridge. When you finish the Scout off, arm up. We will need to starve or hunt them out. They must be in vac suits, but that will make them clu--” Her gaze pulled off to her left as she stopped, raising the pistol he had gifted her.
Shots rang, some from a laser weapon, and she jerked around, flesh burnt, blood pushed out and pressed into the padding of the chair. “Diana!” Sapphire cried out too, and he tried to cover her eyes, which she bat away. He shouted, in horror, then fury, as her body was pushed over and a bulbous vacsuit helmet crowded out the image.
“Surrender, the ship is ours.” The unknown assailant said, and to punctuate the point, the power flickered and went out for a minute, but the feed remained. The ship also seemed to lurch, as the hungry engines lost their fuel in fits.
“I’ll never surrender to the likes of you!” the captain shot back. The crew passed back and forth, looking for something they could do, but fell quiet. Grimly, he looked back and forth, then whispered into the silence, “to the escape boat. Now.” As one, the crew got up, collecting what they needed, and headed for the nose, where a shaft would take them around to the hanger, and off the ship.
Some of the pirates grabbed weapons, others charts and documentation. He grabbed his daughter, who now stood shocked, and carried her down the shaft, and strapped into a seat, before detaching the cutter, and running in a straight vector away from the pursuing scout.
He dropped his head to his chest, and let a tear go. The first time in years, he prayed.
Endnote for readers:
This narrative (not really a story) is from a series of events from the game Classic Traveler. The group I’m with have been experimenting in the system, and ran into a series of bad encounters that led to low morale after two encounters, with our holds only a 1/3 full of precious treasure. A third encounter, with a much bigger vessel seemed to be the end.
We figured given the deadliness of Classic Traveller combat we were screwed, but figured we’d try a hijacking. They wanted to dock and shake us down. Against a normal scout group, it probably would have worked. But we had excellent fighters and just enough luck it seemed. Inside two rounds 6 enemies were dead after facing off against guys controlled by one player. Good roles, and stats that apparently make an experienced player sputter in utter shock. On my side of the equation, with the vessel equipped with the laser turret, we have 4 crew, 2 guys belonging to another player (didn’t make it) and my main, who is no pushover for combat. The pilot stays behind to attempt some stupid close-in maneuvers and load everyone else into an air/raft (a kind of small aircraft/spaceplane/hovercraft. Multipurpose) and boat over and hack our way into an airlock, and push our way through. Intentionally attempting to vent a fair number, do some damage in case some are in sections not sealed already. Might do some good.
The bridge crew finally get to react, and the docked vessel shears away as it moves up to speed. The first infil group heads for the bridge, the second the engineering compartments. The first’s intent is just straight blitzkrieg. The second is capture of tactical importance. The capture of either bridge or engineering section will conclude the battle, one way or the other. THe bridge directly controls the vessel, and various components but the engineering controls the power. ANd that’s where I send my team. They force open the door, and gun down the engineer, a woman in this case. The standing orders (case I went into a deadzone while driving) was to kill anyone armed, who didn’t immediately surrender. The woman had a pistol. The scout, one knighted Sir Gazi, seized control of the console immediately, and found a video line to the bridge, and ordered the surrender, which the pirate captain refused.
Immediately following the power and fuel were cut, sending the ship drifting again, disabling weapons, and most internal systems. The bridge seemed to detach, or the crew there evacuated to a liferaft that detached and spent away with greater acceleration. The ship is now ours. End of session.
For color, the GM threw in a girl and implied the engineer was the mother and wife of the captain. And a suggestion that perhaps the woman was pregnant with a second. It inspired an interesting image, which led to this piece. The otherside, of a set of seven desperate adventurers seeing financial ruin if they just roll over. We’ve also probably made an enemy for life. How exciting.
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