Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Story post from Shooting Star

I don't know why this passage appeals to me so much.  They've come through a massive storm during which their windshield is broken by a forceful wave, and they have no generator, no desalinator, no drives, no controls - nothing, until Federi finds a manual helm hidden under the console.  It's a night straight out of the seafarer's hell.


“Let me go and see what I can do with the power generator,” said
Federi stopped him.
“We have drives now,” he said. “Wolf, the rest I’ll manage.
Thanks a stack.”
“You sure?”
“You’re the Captain,” smiled Wolf and teleported out.
That’s right, thought Federi, staring through the porthole at the
dark waves. He moved back to the bridge, to relieve Virian and send
her back to sleep.
Come what may, he had to stay awake. Battling the helm did it
for him.
How on Earth had Adamson got hold of a crew of were folk from
Shrn to hunt the Solar Wind? And what favours and money could be
of interest to a fisher person?
Glenn Wilson was tied up in the gun lounge. Federi had put S.I.
Lucy in charge of him, loading her poison compartment with one of
the vilest assassin poisons in his possession. The last thing he
needed was the creature freeing itself and going around eating the
crew. The crew – the familia!
It occurred to him that he’d split the little cyborg, given her
double orders. She was to supervise both the fisherman and the open
flame of the distiller. He wondered how she processed this. He
hoped she’d check on both at regular intervals, rather than simply
dropping one order in favour of the other. And if she dropped one
order – he hoped it was the distiller. He trusted the open flame more
than the hostage. Hell, and he couldn’t even let go to check...
couldn’t wake up Virian another time... he hadn’t known that
Morrigan needed sleep at all...
Paean was suddenly by his side. He shook himself out of his
dream-like state. He must have sat down at some point; and he must
in fact have dropped off, because the ship was bouncing around on
the choppy waves like a rabbit. But Paean’s hands were on the helm
now, and she was wrestling the control for the ship back from the
And over the sea was the most welcome sight of them all – the
pale grey glow of first dawn.


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