Young Writers Society

Adam was still trying to embrace the destruction of the outpost. What race could destroy a fully functioing Ancient outpost. We just started restoring all of its major systems and now...

"Adam," Colin, the Highwind's New AI said, "Matt just boarded."

"Good, Have everyone meet in the conference room, We need to Introduce Someguy."

"Gotcha." His face faded from the screen and Adam made his way to the bridge. The various plants were happy as ever, living in the middle of the crew quarters hall. Steps bounced off the metal grey walls, unable to muffle the sound of the ship's engines.

We've been through a lot, Adam patted the wall of his ship, wondering how many times he'd had to revamp her.

Just as he reached the elevator a bustling mass of person slammed into Adam, 'Sorry! Oh Noes! Of all the people to run into I hit the captain." Adam rubbed his side, eyeing the crewman harshly.

"Try and stay calm, dont get too anxious."

"Urm, right yeah sorry."

"Come on, we have a meeting," Adam smiled and led the way.

The message decrypted quickly.

*Priority*

1. Report to Oink Star for rearm and refit.

2. Protect Suzanne and aid her in her mission.

3. Protect Adelaide and aid her in any way.

4. Standby for further instructions. Expect to deploy within 48 hours.

-Adelaide

P.S. The milk is sour again.

Grif frowned as he went to the refrigerator. He tasted the milk and spit it out, before dumping the rest down the drain. He'd get some more after he made it to the Oink Star.

The trip took less than ten minutes. When he arrived he was met by a robot.

"I'm fine on ordnance. I just need groceries for two people for a month," the robot nodded and went to fill his order, or at least Grif hoped so.

Mandy was collapsed on a box of deactivated and ancient torpedoes. The rave and the high molecular alcohol had more than gone to her head. And the night before seemed no more than a load colourful blur.

“Bother” she could just remember being recruited to the wondering hangman. Then she went to celebrate.

“Must have been a good party,” she said to her self. She rolled of the box and looked with blurry vision round the room before she realised she was in a fighter pale hanger. Stumbling out of that she almost fell down a flight of stairs before deciding that it may be best to use one of the lifts, not that she really knew where the hell she was going any way. Her phone began making load squealing noises she reached in one of her pockets and pulled it out pressing the read message button rather clumsily,

Engineer required at the wondering hangman immediately.

“Ahh.... where’s that pain... busting... headache stuff” she said to her self as the lift whorled off

Suzanne was in the middle of dissecting (or, as most would call it, reading) a book when her communicator started vibrating.

"No, I'm reading..." As always, she hoped it would stop on it's own. It didn't. "At least let me get to the last paragraph!"

It started to play an annoying tune.

"FINE!"

She flipped it open. You're working on the SPEW Gryphon II as a medic. Report for briefing ASAP.


Suzanne sighed. "I'll report at the end of this chapter...." The communicator started vibrating again, and she was sure to throw it across the room, where it would be ignored for the time being.

Grif had been told to expect Suzanne at 3:00 PM. It was now 3:30, and no sign of Suzanne. Finally, a shuttle pulled up and landed. Suzanne emerged from the passenger cabin, carrying two large duffel bags.

"Hi Grif! Sorry I'm late."

"Great. If you're ready we can go over the ship."

"Sure, just let me get the rest of my bags," She said, tossing the duffel bags down to the ground. When she had finished, she had eight large duffel bags. Grif gestured to some robots for some help. They went off into the ship with the bags.

"Permission to come aboard?" Suzanne asked nervously.

"Permission granted. Unless I tell you otherwise, do not touch anything, do not try to operate any machinery unless you are instructed how to. Follow my instructions at all times, without question."

"Why?"

"Because your life may depend on it. Follow me, your quarters are this way."

Razorblade jumped up from her computer screen, having finished reading through the first page and a half that this storybook has actually been happening.

"Avast!" she cried. "Where be my crew of one member and one who requested to join but never posted a profile?"

She burst from her captain's quarters aboard the cleverly disguised Wandering Hangman, shouting orders at imaginary crew members.

"You! Heave to and make sure the petrol tanks are filled! You there, scurvy cur, aweigh anchor and stock the fridge! And you, find out where the bloody we're going!"

She skidded to a stop midship, peering over the edge for her missing crew member, Mandy, a bottle of Excedrin Headache pills rattling in her pocket.

Thank the computer for modern pharmaceuticals Mandy thought to her self as she walked up to the wandering hangman. Her headache had completely gone but her slightly red eyes still gave away the fact that she had been parting the night before, not to mention her wrinkled clothes. She looked up to see razorblade mid-ship peering down at her

“Bother, guess I’m late”

She quickened her step and hurried into the ship

As Kitty was approaching The Oink Star, her phone began to vibrate again. It was a message from Alice -

I hear your ship is still under construction. Should I tell Adam to expect you?

Kitty paused for a moment and then hurried back in the other direction, weaving in and out of the crowds of writers. As she ran, she punched 'Y...e...s' into a new message and sent it to Alice.

By the time Kitty boarded the Highwind, the other members of the CRA with the addition of Someguy were all gathered in the confernece room.

"Glad you could make it Heather," Adam greeted her with a brisk handshake. "This is Someguy." I reached out and shook hands with him and then flopped next to Bella in a spare seat.

"Did I miss the briefing?" I asked.

"No, we were just about to start but I think you already know the general crisis?" Adam asked. I nodded and waited for him to proceed.

"We're going to investigate the remains of the Outpost. With any luck, we can gain some intel on our new enemy. The CCF is letting us borrow some Assassins for backup. They should be here in about an hour."

Adam clicked a button allowing a projection to appear in the center of the metal table, "As you all know the Outpost is located a few lightyeatrs outside of the Galactic Border. From what Adelaide told us, it is hard to determine where the attackers came from. They could be from this galaxy, or another."

"Do we know if any of the enemy ships are still in the area?" Bella asked.

"No, Since there was very little gained from the original attack, we have no way of knowing if the enemy is still present in the area. We're going in blind."

"Can the Highwind survive a direct attack?" Someguy decided to chime in.

"I doubt we would survive an attacke from this new threat. But I've set our couse to drop us a few meters from where the OUtpost was. We should be ale to hide in the debris field."

After the Questions were over, everyone went to their stations. Matt and Rick on tactical, Bella on navigation, Alice on navigation, Heather went with Someguy to the Hanger to run checks on the fighters while Adam ran shipwide diagnostics.

The Highwind had to be in top form for this mission or it could be the end.

DarkLight (Charlie)

Charlie stomped up the last few rungs of the maintenance ladder and clambered out of the shaft. He turned and slipped the covering back over the entrance before running his hand over the pouch on his side. When he was satisfied that none of his tools and diagnostic equipment had fallen out, he stretched and began to walk to the bridge. Humming to himself, Charlie ran through his latest changes aloud.

“Both engine cores cleared of slag, pressures equalised, engine focus point recalibrated…”

He came to a door which slid open silently as he approached it and Charlie smiled at the smoothness of the action. Not all doors on the ship were so well maintained, but the door to the bridge was used a lot, so elegance was required.

“A rather nice sliding action if I do say so myself,” he congratulated his own handiwork. Being responsible for most things on the carrier meant he had little time to relax, but Charlie was in love with his job so when he did have spare time…

He breezed into the ship’s control room and leaped into his favourite swivel chair. He tapped his ID code into the technician’s computer and logged on to the system. After passing the required fingerprint analysis test he swept through the Light Carrier’s new statistics.

“Oooooh efficiency up to 76.8 percent! I have a new personal best!”

“What are you up to, Charlie?”

He gasped and leapt to his feet, turning towards the person who had spoken. The back of the captain’s chair was facing him and it slowly revolved to reveal Donovan Jeska. Charlie relaxed.

“A little melodramatic wasn’t that, sir?”

“Nah. And speak easy, Charlie. You know ‘sir-ing’ does my head in!”

“Sorry, Dono.”

“Much better!” The captain span lazily in his chair before facing him once more, “Now, what are you up to?”

Charlie heard the warning tones in Dono’s voice. The captain did not entirely approve of his Kaizen-like methods of constant improvement mainly because it gave him an excuse to work continuously.

“Oh nothing much,” Charlie tried to conceal his crime with offhandedness, “just a routine de-slag of the engines.”

“And?”

“Well, whilst I was down there it would have been a waste not to equal the pressure and recalibrate!”

“What have I told you?” Hunter exclaimed and got to his feet.

“Who knows when we’ll need the engines capable of working at their maximum capacity? If I don’t balance them we’ll struggle to keep a straight course!”

“I need you fresh and alert when we have a situation,” the captain explained, his annoyance drifting away slowly, “now more than ever, Charlie.”

“We’re having a situation?”

The captain became serious once more. He sat back down and breathed out slowly. For a moment, he seemed a lot older and worried, but it did not last and seconds later he was back in control.

“The outpost has been destroyed. Jenna only just escaped with the staff.”

Charlie’s silence showed his disbelief.

“It was an unknown race. In fact, I’ve just set a course. Would you do the honours?”

Dono gestured at the controls before him. Charlie got up uneasily, his previous enthusiasm was gone. He stepped up to the console and selected both engines with the touch pad.

“Are we in a hurry?”

Hunter grinned. He patted the fastened seat belt around his waist and nodded. Charlie’s hand hovered over the onscreen slider and he was suddenly hit with all the things that could go wrong.

“I dunno, Dono. The engines might not be focused quite right. I better go check before—”

The captain rolled his eyes and shook his head. He leant forwards and moved the slider up to the top. A small LED turned red and deep within the ship a low rumbling started. The grin never leaving his face, Hunter punched the release button and the ship thundered forwards. Charlie’s face paled and he dived into his own seat, muttering weakly to himself.

“Oh, if the fastenings aren’t quite right…”

“Yeeeeeeeha!”

"Avast! Mandy, you be late again and I be havin' your guts for garters!" Razorblade threatened dangerously as her errant crew member scrambled aboard the ship.

"Right! You lot! We're to collect and deliver a backup assault team to the scene of the battle. This mission be extremely important and crucial, and I be expectin' nothin' less than stellar performances from the crew of me pride and joy, the Wandering Hangman! You lot best be on yer toes lest ye be caught snoozin', 'cause if I catch any of ye blighters slacking off, I recommend you get yerself shipshape sharpish, 'cause there'll be no mercy for the errant. Understand?"

Razorblade surveyed her crew of one as they saluted, hands on her hips, one finger toying with her cleverly disguised rifle that bore the appearance of a mostly useless cutlass that was stuck into her belt. Aye, this'll be interestin', she thought.

"Right! Heave to, and set sail!"

Crysi had just gotten out of bed when the Banhammer lurched forward.

She fell flat on her face into a pile of gadgets and paperwork. Muttering under her breath, she stood up again. With the ship's movement now fairly uniform, she had little difficulty keeping her balance.

Still, this did not make her happy. She was not a morning person, and she had had neither her coffee nor her shower yet.

Crysi was in a bad mood.

Grabbing her towel and a spare pilot suit, she headed out of her quarters and began walking to the showers.

"Yo, Crys, Dono wants you."

Crysi jumped, then rolled her eyes and scowled at the miniature Dono look-a-like hovering in front of her.

"He can wait until I'm ready to face the morning," she responded, and continued walking to the showers.

"He said now, moron," Phoenix spat.

Crys spun on her heels to glare at the little hologram. "He can wait."

The image shrugged, then disappeared. Crysi didn't care that she was probably wrinkling her suit by clutching it so hard.

She was almost to the showers when the voice returned, but this time it wasn't addressing her.

"Yo, do something about her, man. The little punk won't listen to me."

"Very well... Ah, pardon me, Crysi?"

Crysi stopped and closed her eyes, half-smiling to herself. Magnificent_Ego was, in her opinion, Dono's greatest persona yet, and by far her favorite little hologram floating around. She turned and dismissed Phoenix with a look, then smiled at Mag. "Yes, dear one?"

Mag blushed slightly, looking uncomfortable. He glanced to Phoenix before turning back to her. "Ah... I do realize you are busy, and I do not mean to interrupt your morning routine, but, ah... Captain Donovan wishes to speak to you immediately. It is a matter of great importance."

"I'll be there in five minutes," she said gently. "And no sooner," she added, a bit more harshly, staring at Phoenix. Again, he shrugged and disappeared. Mag bowed with a flourish, leaving as well.

Sighing, Crysi walked into the shower room. I'm sure it's not the first time a girl has told Dono she had to wash her hair...

"Right, Matt -" Rick began.
"Ster. Call me Ster."
"Ok... Ster. We're on tactical. So, what do you suggest we -"
"Smash 'em!"
"... Don't you think -"
"Burn 'em!"
"Look, I really think you -"
"Latte!"

And with that Ster bolted to the kitchen. Rick sighed; it was going to be one of those missions.

Ster returned minutes later with a mug of piping hot liquid.
"Sorry, Rick my man, what were you saying?"
"Well..." Rick continued, "Adam mentioned the Highwind hiding in the debris of the destroyed station, but I'm not sure the same tactic would suit our smaller faster fighters. They might have trouble navigating between the floating junk, plus the enemy could realise our tactic and just surround and assault the space junk field, leaving our guys completely vulnerable."

Ster thought a moment.
"Is there some way we can use the space junk against them?"
"Hmm... maybe," Rick replied, turning back to the monitor. "I mean, not offensively. But as some sort of diversion, perhaps?"
"Mmm..." Ster muttered. "Say we pushed the junk somehow, sent a barrage of debris at them, and while they're firing on that we can come round from both sides..."
"Yes?"
"... and smash 'em."

"Well, it's an interesting tactic," Adam said thoughfully when they'd proposed the idea to him, "but what about the Highwind? They're going to notice it if we attack them with the only cover we have."
"Good point," Rick replied. "Any ideas, Ster?"
Ster took a sip of his latte. "Did we consider smashing them?"
"... shut up."

"So what do we have to do?" Someguy asked as he and Heather approached the Hangar.

"Check all the fighters," Heather replied, collecting a clip board and pen from the wall.

"Oh. Okay." They reached the first Fighter and Heather climbed in and checked the systems. Comms... working. Lights... working. Weapons.... intact. She ran through the entire list and once satisfied, climbed back out to find that Someguy was already checking the second fighter.

"Who's is this one?" Someguy asked. Heather glanced at the purple paint and replied -

"That's Bella's fighter."

"Do I have one?" Someguy asked as Heather moved towards the third.

"Of course. The new one at the far end will be yours."

Adam put his hand in his face, suppressing his laughter. If Matt was good for nothing else, it was blowing things up. Colin appeared next to Adam, "They'll be arriving in the Hanger in a few minutes."

"I'm on my way," Adam replied, "You two try and think of a better strategy." They nodded, Rick looked ready to beat Matt.

A short elevator ride later Adam was watching the CCF Kore drift into the small hanger. It was one of the Cabassi's best shuttles. Giving Adam a better impression as to how important the mission was.

"Welcome to the YWS Highwind," Adam said, "I've had quarters set up for you all. If you'll follow Colin he'll take you to them." The hologram appeared, floating a few inches from the ground.

"This way," Colin went along leading the small group of assassins.

"It's been a while," Ares said.

"Yeah it has. I didn't know you were with the Assassins now."

"You wouldn't. You never come to the base anymore. You're always here."

"I've been busy."

"Whatever," He bolted after the group, leaving Adam to look over the Shuttle.

"Bella," Adam said into his communicator.

"Yeah?"

"Set a course for Ellisa. We'll need to stop there first."

"What speed, Adam?"

"Forum Jump 8."

"Aye Aye."