A missile barely missed hitting the perfectly clean and new armor of the Silver Death, exploding way too close for Vindril's liking. The shockwave…well, there wasn't one to begin with. Unlike what people might have thought, outer space didn't have enough air particles for a bomb to form a magnificent explosion like it would happen on any planet that had a dense enough atmosphere. So the result of most space battles resulted in a chaotic fight scene were one ship tried to destroy the other in a silent dance of destruction. Well, that was the case with regular missiles.
Other weapons, such as the thermal cannons that had just been mounted on the Silver Death, and that were pretty much standard equipment on all vessels galaxy wide, were designed to overcame that obstacle.
If regular cannons simply launched regular ammunition, albeit at a high speed, that maximum that could achieved were some holes. Their ammunitions didn't have explosive charges in them, as it would have been utterly pointless to do so. So what was even the point of mounting such outdate weapons on the crème de la crème that the galaxy could offer? Money. Straight up money.
While the magnetic cannon that was mounted under the hull was as fearsome as any weapon was in the whole galaxy, having the power to obliterate a small ship in a fraction of a second, it had a couple of major flows. For once, it require a shit ton of power to even fire off a shot. Power that took time and resources to replenish. Secondly, it wasn't exactly easy manoeuvring something of that size. It wasn't exactly thought out to hit precisely. Matter of fact, its main strength was sheer devastation. Then there were missiles. Dear…old…missiles. Their job was as simple as they come. Penetrate the armor the protected all ships, all the while trying to ignore the magnetic waves the deflectors hit them with. Their problem? Unless they hit their target, they were pretty much useless.
Vindril sighed nervously. A myriad of lights, some pulsing and some not, were scattered all around the dashboard in front of him, seated as he was on the captain's chair, a comfy, and yet intimidating piece of furniture. Beside him, there was the so dreaded thing that would have allowed the A.I. to manifest itself in any shape it so desired. However, at the moment the thing laid there unused. No signs of the A.I. were perceived aboard the ship, and Vindril was even more nervous than showing it clearly in front of everybody. A sense of dread and danger, which was completely unrelated to the fights they had to win, or evade in order to make the jump to hyper speed, overwhelmed him. Fortunately, the others were too busy with coordinating the attack on the most nearby targets to notice it. Still, what a great start…
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, his mind elaborating all the data it had at its disposal at what might have been light speed. Was the A.I. awake, but pretending to be docile only to wait for the perfect moment to kill them all, such as opening all the doors to create a vacuum that would suck in all the air inside the ship? Or perhaps that thing was so sadistic that it was going to kill them by slowly releasing the poisonous radiation that the powerful engines emitted by tampering with the shields that have be-
He stopped. That was outright impossible. To tamper with those heavy and perfectly anchored to the frame shields, physical presence was needed. And the A.I.., while it may have the power to take over the ship's controls, it didn't have a body to take infiltrate. To be honest, back at the hangar, while everyone was getting on board, Warbren included surprisingly, the thought had crossed his mind when the droid had oh so kindly moved the cryo capsule to the lower floors. Speaking off, he had to decide what to do with that thing. But he also supposed that was a problem for a later time. Matter of priorities, you see?
Anyway, he was shocked to see how well, all things considered, the crew was operating with one another. And they also were doing it under pressure, so that was a big plus in Vindril's mental list of checks. However, even if things were strangely looking up for them, he couldn't relax. The captain, his rightful role since he was in fact the owner of the Silver Death, couldn't just sit back and let the others work for him. That was especially the case for Vindril, who was technically the youngest. In other words, unlike most people plagued with the burden of command, who sort of had the skills and seniority such a role entailed, he had to demonstrate he deserved to be the one in charge. A crew that didn't follow his orders, when it was necessary, would cause so many problems down the line.
Having decided how to act, his first instinct was to grab the console commands that were nearby and input some coordinates to fire of the six thermal cannons the ship had at its disposal, but Sorin sudden movements made him pause. The man clearly had the skills to pilot any kind of space craft he laid his hands on, as it was evident by the nimble and precise inputs that were making the ship move in all her grace. Those weren't the movements of a skilled, but mostly untrained man. To reach that level of skill, precision, and agility in inputting the right commands at the right time, many, many, many hours were needed. So it was obvious why Vindril felt a little bit confused by it all. After all, if Sorin was so skilled, job opportunities wouldn't have been a problem for him; the galaxy was full of organizations, companies, and governments that were on the constant lookout to hire or discover their new ace pilot. So why had Sorin been lowered himself in doing such a minuscule job, for so little pay? His skilled clearly deserved way much more money. Also, Vindril couldn't exactly rack his brain around why he had suddenly decided to come with him, when he had initially refused him flatly. Was he perhaps plotting to betr-
He stopped before his brain even had the chance to finish that thought. Now wasn't the time to think about such complexities. He had a battle to untangle.
The first to do was find a way to get away from the fighters that had surely been alerted since the moment they left Keelo Prime's atmosphere. Vindril walked over to the console, and hit the command to activate the disruptor, which was located just over their heads. With its electromagnetic pulses that fluctuated in waves of different dimensions, that little contraption was one of the most important pieces to have on a combat ready ship. Its purpose? Disrupt all the automatic weapons that it perceived targeted at the ship. Now, it might have sounded overpowered; but it wasn't. You see, while it was a thing that was indispensable to fight on equal footing (so to speak) against any of the endless plethora of enemies that swarmed the dark corners of the galaxy, it was not like it had the power to disable all enemy weapons. The best it could do was buy the vey brief moments that could be exploited before the computers circumvolved its disruption. Not exactly the solution to all problems, right?
Fortunately, that wasn't the only option Vindril could tackle on to protect his own precious skin…and those of the others, of course. Problem was, that ship was alien to him. While a common enough disposition of things had been assured and carried out by the many people that had with their loving care, cursing his name for the endless hours they had to spend at work just to get this ship done in time, some things had been installed as best they could. Not that there were piece badly installed. Not at all. They just had to get…a little creative with some objects in order for them to fit. The end result? A neatly command bridge, packed full to the brim with lights, and buttons, and tech that it wouldn't have disfigured against the enormous bridges of some destroyer class ships. So how the hell was he supposed to know how to activate the more obscure functions that had been mounted onboard?
Vindril studied the console that was in front of him, glancing all around him at record speed. At first, every single button, every single light that was coming on and off rhythmically, all seemed to strangely merge together; but then again, every new thing technological marvel he laid his hands did too. It was a perfectly lined up console, that however yielded few information on how to accomplish what he had in mind. Sorin instead wasn't having any of those complexities somehow. Just how-
"Press that." said Sorin concentrated, running his right hand at record speed over some commands. His other one was firmly gripping and manoeuvring the cloche, avoiding all the debris that was floating endless around the planet.
"What's that?" he asked blinking.
"Just-just do it, damn it! I already have my hands full enough as it is!"
Vindril grumbled. But he still did it nonetheless.
The Silver Death's engines came to life like never before, sprinting the ship forward with such a propulsion that it would have surely launched everyone to the back were it not for the G-damper that was installed in…well, any ship worth mentioning, really. The projectiles that had been launched against them became mere pins that would be lost in the emptiness of space. A jovial and yet reserved atmosphere made everyone inside smile. It seemed those engines were really a marvel to be seen after all. Gooood. Maybe they were going to survive after all.
A cannon shot hit the shields that the generators were projecting all around the ship as a second, ethereal skin. The ship shook, voicing her evident displeasure in being treated that way. But the shields had done their job, deviating the incoming projectile that would have for surely damaged the brand-new armor.
"Shit! How the hell can the hit us from so far away?" asked Sully. Concern was making his voice tremble slightly. "I don't know a thing about starships, but we should be in the clear!"
Vindril smiled incredulous. That was not the cannon shot of a small or medium sized vessel. The power necessary to make a ship the size of the Silver Death shake like that could only be found…on big boys of the galaxy. Shit. "…That's the power of a destroyer I guess."
Sorin's eyes shot up in disbelief. "Why the fuck are so calm about this?! That's a big problem!"
"First the radar doesn't detect the presence anything that big,. And I seriously doubt that its not working properly, so I could be the one in the wrong." he paused. "Secondly, we're faster. So why don't jump to hyper speed while we can?"
"You're crazy. You're absolutely nuts" he stated as a matter of fact. "This vessel hasn't yet gone through any of the tests necessary to observe if everything is ready for Hyper speed. To
"If we don't make the jump now, we're as good as dead. You know it."
"…Shiiiiit!"
As Sorin hands kept on inputting commands at light speed, the engines, the computers, and every little thing that needed to be perfectly calibrated reached the optimal settings required in order to activate the star navigator assistant, also known as S.N.A., a beeping sound suddenly appeared, attracting everyone's attention.
"What the hell is that?" asked Jarik, who was curious about it. It was no wonder, really. When he came across something even remotely related to star ships, his interest was picked. And this time was probably the same.
"Who the fuck care what it is!" yelled Sully, who was clearly agitated. It seemed space fights, chaotic and unpredictable as they were, weren't exactly his cup of tea. "We should get the hell out now that we've a chance!"
"…I agree." added Luzir.
"What the fuck do you think I've been doing since last ten minutes?" screamed annoyed Sorin.
"Than why the fuck we're still here?"
"Ehi, smartass! Why don't you take my seat and pilot this thing if you're so good?"
"Eh! Maybe I should if you're so slow!"
Sorin cursed out loud, always keeping his eyes fixed on the console he was still fiddling with. "I swear, after we're out of here, I'm going to punch you."
"With the way you're piloting, we're already good as dead."
"…That's it. I'm gonna fucking kill this pocket-sized man."
Vindril opened his mouth to shut them up. Firstly, the were going to make his head ache if they kept on screaming at each other like the bunch of mindless idiots the currently were. Secondly, and perhaps more important than a simple discussion, he was damned curios to find out what the hell was that beeping.
Vindril's heart quickened. Had something already broke? Had the ship already sustained some damage? No. That couldn't be it. The display in front of them clearly showed that the ship was perfectly fine. Was it a signal of the A.I. coming back to life? Now, what the hell was he supposed to do if that was the case?
"I think we should-" he tried to say. But Ar interrupted him, moving right beside the beeping sound.
"You're all being ridiculous." they said, pressing down a single button on the console that had some sort of symbol engraved on it. Then they turned around to address everybody. "You, get the ship ready for hyper travel. You, calm down and stay on the lookout for troubles. You…keep doing what you're doing. And you-"
They turned towards Vindril, staring at in the eyes. "If you're to captain this ship, than act like one. Answer the call."
With that, they pressed a second button. Mere moments later, a projection quickly appeared in front of everybody, making them all pause. There, standing still in all his majesty and power, there was Instructor Klevaric. Or his projection. Vindril had not seen him since their first meeting all those months ago. And yet it had not taken him even a second to recognize him. Those cold, calculating eyes that were now silently staring at him had evidently left an impression. Perhaps even more than what he liked to admit.
"…Instruct Klevaric…"
"…Mr. Vindril…" he said coldly. "You're in the possession of something that rightfully belongs to the Empire. I want it back."
"You know, I'm not inclined to oblige, Instructor." he said calmly. "Trying to get us killed left us with a bad taste in our mouths."
"…Under normal circumstances, I might have even found all of this amusing; entertaining even. I can appreciate a man that has the strength to carve out his own destiny."
"Then why try to get me killed?"
The Instructor smiled darkly. "Because, frankly speaking, you're a nobody. A nobody that can be disposed of without anyone asking about you. Why pay for something when I can have it for free?"
"…Why are you telling me all of this?"
"Because I must make you realize the foolishness of your actions." he took a step forward, making the hologram zoom on his face. "The thing that you've stolen from the Empire is dangerous. The woman inside is a threat to the Empire's plans, and she won't be allowed to roam free in the galaxy. That just is not going to happen. They're going to deploy the entire imperial fleet to hunt your little ship down. You can escape, but they'll eventually catch you. You and your…conspirators will be tortured for weeks, maybe even months."
Vindril looked around with his peripheral vision, always maintaining eye level with the Instructor. He hoped with all his might that engines had reached the conditions to jump at hyper speed. But it seemed that he had to buy just a little tiny bit of time more for them to be ready. A thing that proved to be a little more difficult than what he thought, as an eerie silence had taken over the entire ship.
"Err…" started Vindril. "That is if you catch us. And you can believe that we won't be getting caught any time soon."
"I don't know." said the Instructor confidently. "Many things could go wrong, you know. So I ask you, why not just stop this madness and free yourself from an early grave? Why not stop, and do the sensible thing?"
Vindril played pretend. "…I'm listening…"
"Turn around and board the orbital station. Leave the package there and I'll be sure to allow all to retain your lives."
"…I admit it's tempting."
"Then you must-"
"But I don't think it's in my interests to do so. Well, in all of ours."
"…Is that your answer? Think very, very carefully before you respond…"
In that moment, a little blue light came on. And if Vindril wasn't mistaken, that was the signal of engines reaching optimal operation temperature to jump at hyper speed. A smirk appeared on his face, making him look like a little madman.
"…See you later, Instructor."
That was all that Sorin needed to make the jump. The planet behind them disappeared in an instant, and the million of stars around them compressed and passed them by without ever hitting them at unimaginable speed. They did it. The were safe.
…Or were they…
They couldn't have known it in that moment, but something had woken up from its slumber. Something powerful, and inorganic…