User Guide

theirs. From the turret I could see flames erupt from our hull, a quick burst of plasma
destroying an enemy. That reduced the odds to five against one.
Then my radar went red. 1 thought it was a glitch. There was a swarm headed past us
straight for the base. We'd been suckered into a trap, separated from the base the way
wolves separate a calf from its mother. Before I could get a lock on any of the ships I was
slammed against the inside of the turret. We were out of control, spinning without pur-
pose. 1 unstrapped myself, clambered from the turret and headed for the bridge.
When I got there, I stopped short. The bridge was filled with smoke and debris, red
warning lights flashing in the half light, cables hanging lifelessly from the ceiling where a
panel had fallen and crushed Kane. There was nothing we could do for him. There
wasn't much we could do at all but fight for our lives. I assumed command, sent most of
the crew back to their guns and the rest to restoring our maneuverability. This was too
big a job for our one repair droid.
Outside, three Talons still circled us, two of them damaged. I knew that, given our
condition, we couldn't do much to them but there had to be something. Switching
power from guns to shields, I resolved to use the ship's bulk as her defense. It didn't take
long for a Retro to make the mistake of flying directly in front of us. I engaged afterburn-
ers and sent the Scarab's weighty prow through the tiny ship. I had the comm lines open
and shouted orders into the air.
"I'm taking the shields down. Hank and Johansen use the extra power to blast those
freaks. Everyone else hold your fire. On my mark ... NOW!"
Johansen destroyed his target, but Hank only managed to clip his. Its shields were
down but there was no hull damage. The quick Talon turned to approach us from
behind. Textbook, I thought. I hit dead stop, freezing our position. He blew past and
Hank nailed him with a torpedo. We were in the clear for now, but Sheol was dying.
Lights blinked out all along its hull as power was cut. We could see they had been
boarded — white Talons stood out against Sheol's dark hull and the guns protecting the
main hangars sat lifelessly by as enemy ships were docked. All I could think of was Jo
fighting for her life against those bark-eating, anti-urban, anti-stellar, neo-pagan, hypo-
critical, knowledge-destroying fanatics. I went red trying to turn the Scarab to her rescue.
They had to pry me from the controls. Sheol was a loss and we weren't doing much bet-
ter.
By the time we had jumped back to a civilized world I was numb with grief. Jo was
certainly dead, we had buried Kane in space during the trip, and the Scarab had received
much more damage than we had the finances to repair. We sold the ship for scrap and
divided the cash. Some of the crew stayed together, hoping to find financial backing.
Some went back to far-away families left waiting months ago. I had no choice. I
exchanged work for passage on a small merchant ship, the Sword of Damocles, and head-
ed for Troy in Gemini. There I knew I'd find a new beginning, a chance to be the explor-
er 1 had admired in Mack Christiensen and the master of his own fate 1 had admired in
Geof Kane.
Mack's bequest had the unfortunate side effect of actually costing me money. The
Tarsus he left was no longer in working order and 1 sunk most of my money and what
little he left me into repairs and hangar fees. It's been nearly two months since that day I
last saw Jo, and I'm ready to move on. I have my own ship and a new destiny as Gemini's
newest privateer.
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