Just a dumping ground for short stories inspired by Starfield. Some may be connected, others probably not. I can't even guarantee they'll be good quality. But I've had so many ideas floating around that I figured I may as well get some of them in print.
Hell's Comin' With Me
"Another game?" Andes asked as he tossed one of his Shadowqueen pieces into the air.
"Fuck off, I'm not giving you any more of my money," I stood, bumping the table and knocking some of the remaining pieces over. "Besides, we're supposed to be on lookout for any ships that jump into this system."
"Oh come off it Jack, how long's it been since we've seen a flicker of anything? Months! Fucking months we've been here with nothing to show for it except for some cult esquisitos whinging about some fucking comet."
"Yep, and we'll stay here 'til Delgado tells us we can move on."
"Yeah that's another thing," he slammed the game piece he was holding down onto the table, the last standing pieces toppling over before rattling to the ground. "Why the hell has he got us out here in porra Denebola of all places? I did some reading and- don't look so fucking shocked- I did some reading and this system is empty. Less than empty, even! As far as I know, nothing has happened anywhere near this system since the War! Thirty fucking years and not even a blip."
"Ah come on, what about that Spacer fleet that just up and disappeared a few years back? 8 ships jumped here and never left."
"Surely you don't believe that tripe," Andes laughed as he shovelled the game pieces into their box. "A whole 8 ships, armed to the fucking teeth, vanish into thin air and nobody thinks to investigate? Get fucked Jack, that story is as real as the fucking Mantis is."
I shot a nervous glance at the scanner. Still empty. Good. "You shouldn't talk about him, you know."
"He's a ghost story, Jack. A tale spun to scare criminosos like us into doing the right thing." He leaned back in the chair, idly swiping the screen on the nav desk in front of him. "And besides, even if he was real, it's been almost a decade since someone cried Ashta over him. Whoever he was, if he was even real, he's long dead." He tapped once on the nav screen, the map zooming into the Porrima system. "See now why couldn't Delgado put us near Paradiso? Surely the rich turista would be a better score than whatever backwater ships we may get out here. "
"Just be glad we've got a planet with atmo nearby, I don't want to imagine your bitching if we had to jump to another system every two weeks."
"Well I already have to listen to yours every time we-" The scanner in the cockpit lit up and beeped wildly. Andes turned toward me, a wide grin on his face. "Well I'll be damned. You go warm up the engines, I'm gonna jump on comms and see if I can't hail us a payday."
Andes spun his chair around, practically leaping out of it to get to the comms suite in the computer core.
The door to the cockpit opened with a hiss, and as the chair in the cockpit swung to face the plate glass window, Andes' voice crackled over the intercom.
"Unidentified ship, this is the Crimson Fleet Banshee. Now you seem to have stumbled into our spacelane, whether on purpose or by a complete accident, well that ain't for me to decide." I spun up the reactor and fed a few megawatts of power into the engines and a couple more into the particle beams, while simultaneously directing the ships scanners at the new arrival. "What is for me to decide, is how much you give us for us to let you live. I'm thinking… half of what you've got in that fancy cargo hold o' yours. So you bundle it up real nice for us, launch it out the back of your ship, and be on your merry way. Or we can blow you to dust and take it. Your choice."
The scanner beeped, the screen flashed red, bright white letters illuminated the cockpit.
\ENCRYPTED/
"Son of a…" I diverted some power away from the engines and directed it to the computer core, determined to crack the encryption. Moments later, the screen blinked again, this time displaying a partial readout of the newcomers ship.
Ship Designation: Deimos-A982 Razorleaf
Registered Pilot: \ENCRYPTED/
Registered Alias: Mantis
I froze. There was no way. He wasn't real, was he?
"Uh… Andes!" I yelled back through the ship. "You might want to see this, man!"
"I'm kinda fucking busy amigo! Can it fucking wait 'til we have this score?"
"It really can't! I'll flick the data to Term Three!"
"This better be important!" I sent the scan data off the side of the screen. I could feel my heart beating in my throat as I waited for a response.
"Andes, talk to me, man! What you thinking?" I waited for another beat. "Is it him? Is it the fucking Mantis?"
"Run another scan, put as much power into it as you can!" I reached towards the distribution panel when the comms crackled to life again
"My my, don't you know it's rude to scan a lady without asking first?" A decidedly feminine voice echoed through our ship. "And such bad manners from the big one. 'Give me your cargo or else.' Such bravado, such… overwhelming masculinity. It's almost sickening if I'm to be honest."
"Ha!" Andes yelled out. "It can't be the Mantis, not when it's a garota talking at us."
"Well that's no way to talk to a lady, surely your mãe taught you better than this." Her laughter filled the ship like nails on a chalkboard. "Then again, you did join the Fleet, and that speaks wonders for your intellect. Tell me, is old Delgado still in charge? I heard there was a coup a few years back." Andes tapped my shoulder, having picked up the portable comm unit.
"Look lady," he spoke into the unit. "I'm sick of you wasting our time, you had your warning. And if you're trying to use the name of the Mantis to scare us it ain't working."
"Ooh, I was hoping you'd say that. I'm sure you've heard the stories. Eight Spacer ships jump into the Denebola system, never to be heard from again. Would you like to find out why?" The comm line went dead with a pop, and the little white arrow that had been glowing in the corner of the targeting screen flicked to an angry red.
"Fuck." I powered the engines with every spare scrap of power I could squeeze from the scanner, and spun the ship hard to port.
The Banshee rocked as a barrage of laser fire ripped through the shields like they weren't even there, melting the now exposed titanium into globules that floated off into space.
The targeting system beeped as it locked onto the Deimos ship ahead, and I pulled the firing trigger.
All four particle beams roared to life, searing trails through space, the sheer power discharge causing the cabin lights to flicker.
At a range of seven kilometres, the particle beams crossed the space between in less than two seconds, but they never hit their mark. The Razorleaf flipped out of the way at the last second, the beams passing harmlessly under the now upside-down ship.
The lock-on warning blared, and a volley of HE missiles streaked toward us, carving a path between the small asteroids that had floated between our two ships.
I banked hard, the readout on the screen blinked a g-force warning, and blackness started creeping on the edges of my vision.
The first missile collided with the starboard engine, cutting it out with a weak sputter, and I quickly shut the remaining one down to avoid sending the ship into a death spin.
The second collided with a nearby asteroid, sending chunks of rocks and minerals pinging off the hull.
The final missile impacted the reactor, the carbon titanium casing doing little to protect it from two hundred kilograms of explosives.
The power readout started dropping rapidly. 80%. 70%. 50%.
"Helmets now, Andes!" I scrambled from the pilot seat back towards the armoury. I dropped down a level, completely ignoring the ladder, and Andes landed with a thud behind me.
The hermetic seal between my suit and helmet sealed moments before the O2 scrubbers failed.
"Docking initiated, please stand by."
My pistol felt heavy as I pulled it from its holster and took cover behind a workbench, Andes having drawn his Kraken on the other side of the room.
The docking hatch at the far end of the armoury hissed open. A small cylindrical object floated into view.
Even through the polarised visor of my helmet, the light from the flashbang was blinding. I heard the distinct automatic rattle of the Andes' 6.5mm Kraken, and then a single louder shot and the shattering of glass. I didn't have to look to know that he was dead.
As the spots cleared from my vision, I watched as the barrel of an AA Breach swung to aim at me.
"You know what," I flinched at the voice that came from the sleek grey helmet. "I'm feeling generous today. Have you got repair parts in your cargo? Enough to fix your reactor?" I nodded frantically. "Then I guess it's your lucky day, sort of. I wish I could say it was nice meeting you, but well…" She gestured vaguely to where I knew Andes' body was laying, before taking a single step back and firing a single burst from her boost pack, propelling her through the docking module and into her ship.
I stayed frozen where I was, crouched behind the workbench, until the distinct sound of a grav drive firing echoed around me.
And then silence.
