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Kangfish · 06-25-2007, 04:58 PM

This was going to be the introduction to a story I still would really like to write, I just don't think it fits the overall tone I was going for and it's not quite quick enough, but I uncovered it and, ah, might aswell post it...

The Queen Veronica was the largest, most luxurious, space liner that had ever been commissioned by King Corona Liners, ltd. She was near a mile long and held ten thousand passengers in the lap of luxury. She was crewed by over two thousand dedicated staff members, all company taught and trained. Her officers came from the finest merchant and naval academies, from three different star nations. Each member of the bridge crew and management staff could speak atleast two primary languages, and the Veronica had three dozen translators on hand who were fluent in a hundred dialects. There were indoor pools, waterfalls, casinos and several four star restaurants.
She trafficked aristocrats and playboys to the most distant reaches of the known galaxy, and back again.

All of this, her Captain reflected, made her a prime target for piracy. He glared sullenly through the bridges thick fiberplast screen. The unidentified blip had appeared on their radar a little under forty minutes ago, and was closing fast. They had scanned it repeatedly, but couldn't get a good reading...she was too large to be a courier boat of any sort, and the way she reflected the Veronica's scans suggested some sort of military grade scrambler. The tiny piranha of a vessel may have been thoroughly under Veronica's weight class, but she would surely be armed to the, sharp, pointy, teeth, and Veronica had no weapons of her own. They usually sailed under escort, especially in the dicey regions of the inhabited galaxy, but they were six days from any planet, much less a colonized one..so where had the bastard come from?
"Mr.Anders, when will she overtake?"
"Estimating twenty minutes, sir...though I can't grab a proper scan..best bet is she'll be in weapons range within five or six, sir." Anders returned, his voice becoming both soft and grave.
"Alert the crew, have the passengers sent to their cabi-" The bridge shook violently, and a bright cloud of azure flame erupted and died in a near instant. Anders had been wrong, and the next one wouldn't be a warning shot.
"Prepare to repel boarders!"

Andrew Posey felt out of place in the thick, black, breast armor. It was awkward on his wiry frame, and the rifle hanging from his shoulder was even heavier. His white security uniform was matted and stained with sweat, and his flat-top cap just barely clung to his damp head. Someone hadn't thought to move the ships temperature from 'tropical' to normal. Posey watched as his officer argued with an old aristocrat in a speedo and silk bathrobe,
"Sir, you must return to your cabin, this is an emergency situation!"
"I'll have you know, boy, I fought in the pan-galactic war!"
"Be that as it may-" The ship rocked again, and then the world fell apart. The lights flickered, and a massive chandelier far overhead snapped its impressive chain and plunged towards the concourse deck. It came with-in feet of splashing violently into a large pool, but chose the near by towel counter instead. Glass blistered the air, and at that moment, the ship lost artificial gravity.
"Patrick!" Posey called, his feet leaving the deck. The three of them floated free, the old man looking beyond bewildered.
"Hang on, Andy, they'll get the gravity ba-"
They dropped the few feet to the deck, and were showered in glass. The oldman was bent up like a pretzel, and Posey moved to help.
"Forget him Andrew, he wanted to stick around, let him..we need to find out whats going on.." Patrick shouldered his own rifle, and jogged off down an adjacent corridor.
Posey nodded, following. They jumped over potted plants and various ill-fated light fixtures. Posey puffed, he may have been thin, but he wasn't cut out for this sort of exercise. He'd joined the crew of the Veronica four months ago, straight out of highschool. When he signed up to be a security officer he was dimly aware of the fact that he may one day have to face some sort of hostile threat, though in his four months of experience he hadn't carried anything larger than a light stun baton-for unruly drunks. His duties consisted mostly of making sure nosey people kept out of employee only areas and assisting the old half deads that made up most of those who could afford to travel aboard the Veronica. This was different, and he knew it. Either they were having some sort of reactor melt-down, or they were under attack.
"Posey! Pay attention." He snapped from his reverie, finding he'd stopped with Patrick in a small alcove in the corridor, they'd been joined by a half dozen other officers, equally armed.