Chapter 3: High Noon on Walston

Seally is all business over the comm with her partners. "Zuni, plot an intercept course but don't engage yet. Fallon, Alerio, Zuni we decide this together. I vote we go. Report."

The windows shutters raise, letting in natural light into the Wayward Wind for the first time in a week. You've entered normal space quite close to Walston, no doubt a testament to Alerio's quick J-Drive repairs, the system's reddish star cresting behind it.

Your advanced sensor suite begins pulling in data as the distress call continues: "We are under attack ... main drive is gone ... turret number one not responding ... losing cabin pressure fast ... calling anyone ... please help ... this is Free Trader Beowulf ... mayday!"

You get a visual of the Beowulf listing in Walston's orbit, confirming their dire situation.

Then, sensors pick up the cause of the Beowulf's distress. A 400 dTon* Nishemani corsair is bearing down on her. It bristles with weapons, including 2 pulse laser triple turrets and a triple missile turret.

The Nishemani-class corsair's transponder indicates it is of Sword World origin, and designated Calibandr, which sparks a memory from weeks ago.

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*- This ship is about twice as large as the Wayward Wind

"Oh, shit on multiple levels."

Zuni plots the intercept course and blows through his lips. "Remember The Drunken Droid on Elixabeth?"

Seally shivers. On the comms she says, "A narrow window of victory only. If we strike, we must hit it hard and fast, and hope to do enough damage that it cannot fight back effectively."

She puts her hand on Zuni's shoulder. "Are you up for this, my friend?"

"I am up for this, but is The Wayward Wind? I mean their ship is loaded! And they hate us. If we don't sneak in and kill them dead, we will be dead. You aren't kidding about a narrow window. It's razor thin."

Zuni shudders at what could lie ahead if they fail.

Alerio races back up and saves the report on the J-Drive for later!

"Sword Worlders!" she says, through gritted teeth. She gets ready to move to her station.

"I like those odds!" she says, about the razor thin margin they were working with! "Lets let em have it!!"

"Calibandr? Wasn't that the name of that smug Sword Worlder shit we met a few weeks ago? Was basically fellating Dreks and his battle prowess? Ugh I did not expect to run into them again. I'm in, but so help me if I die during this I will haunt any of you survivors."

"Yes, the very same. I doubt they will show mercy."

Zuni would have made some kind of wise-ass remark in response to Fallon's surprising potty mouth remark, but they were probably a few seconds away from dying.

Goldie puts the transmission from the Calibrandr on the main view screen. The image flickered to life, and before you sat the captain of the Calibrandr, a grotesque amalgamation of man and machine. Tubes pulsed rhythmically, carrying fluids through his ravaged body, while gears hissed and clicked in a discordant symphony of life sustained by cold, unfeeling technology.

But it was his face that commanded your gaze—a grim Sword Worlder funeral mask, its hollow eyes staring back with an eerie, unblinking intensity. The mask’s polished surface gleamed like bone, and its carved features, both austere and cruel, seemed to sneer at you from across the void.



"The Wayward Wind..." intoned the captain, his voice a resonant blend of flesh and machine, twisted with malice. "Ah, the cowards who dared strike me down — shot me through the chest and cast me to rot upon cursed Elixabeth. Did you think death would claim me so easily? Nay, I rose, my veins aflame with vengeance, my blade hungering for the taste of your blood!"

His eyes burned like twin embers as he stepped forward, the dim light gleaming off his jagged armor.

"Dreks foretold your return, to this insignificant speck of sand, though even he could not predict such pitiful haste. And lo, you come stumbling into the jaws of ruin ere the slaughter has truly begun. How considerate of you... to present yourselves for the reckoning."

"What did I tell you ladies?" Zuni hisses under his breath.

"Were fucked. If we try to run, we're dead. If we stay, we're fucked. Ideas?

In response, she smiles at Zuni, but says to the man on the screen, "Hi, good to see you! I see our gunshot hasn't improved your looks. Hold on right there while we finish wrapping your present."

She muted the main comm. On a side channel, she informs the crew, "Prepare for combat. Fallon, break their defenses open. Alerio, get ready with those extinguishers. Heretic Squad, prepare to repel boarders. And Zuni? Let's get close enough for missiles."

Secretly, she's terrified. They've been in combat before but the size of that thing! And Sword Worlders, they seem like they know what they're doing.

Everyone takes their stations - on the bridge Seally takes the captain's chair, routing sensors to her tactical screen; Fallon brings up the holgraphic controls for gunnery station, and Zuni takes a seat at the state-of-the-art, computer-assisted helm.



Down on the first deck, Heretic Squad suits up while Alerio takes her place in the advanced Countermeasures suite.

On Bridge of the Calibrandr

The Sword Worlder pilot of the Calibrandr wrenched the controls, skillfully bringing the hulking corsair around to bear. But his confidence faltered as his quarry darted through the void with impossible grace. The Wayward Wind danced like a phantom!

"By the stars, but she’s fast!" the young warrior bellowed, his voice tinged with disbelief, even as the ship's klaxons blared a deafening call to battlestations.

"Fast?" The captain’s voice thundered over the din, his fury sharp enough to cut steel. "Of course she’s fast! That’s Drek’s ship! The scourge of District 268!" He rose from his command chair, a twisted figure radiating venomous authority. "But fear not!" he snarled, his words dripping with contempt. "We outgun them three to one! And their crew? Nothing but a pack of craven women!"

The pilot’s hands tightened on the controls as he swallowed hard, the tension in the air thicker than the smoke of distant battles. The Calibrandr surged forward, engines screaming in pursuit, but doubt lingered like a shadow in the pilot’s mind.

On the Bridge of the Beowulf
Lights flared red across every console, the wail of alarms cutting through the chaos as the ship disintegrated around them. Captain Falkirk floated in zero gravity, propelling himself grimly down the darkened lift shaft, his hand clenched tight around his lucky rabbit’s foot. His jaw was set, his breaths sharp and measured. Engineering was his destination, on his way to help the chief to jump-start the failing J-Drive. His odds were dwindling fast, but he couldn't give up.

Through the static-laden comms, he heard their officer’s voice repeating the distress signal like a grim mantra. "Mayday... mayday... this is Free Trader Beowulf..." Falkrik cursed under his breath, his thoughts a storm. Damn it all, I should’ve stayed retired.

The ship shuddered under a new barrage of pulse laser fire, but then, as abruptly as it began, the onslaught stopped. The silence that followed was deafening, and far more sinister. Falkirk froze mid-motion, dread clawing up his spine. They’re boarding us, the thought came, cold and sharp. His grip tightened on the edge of the lift. Was it better to meet death in the cold, indifferent vacuum of space when the reactor went critical? Or to endure the slow agony of a Trexalon slave mine?

His hand drifted to his sidearm, fingers brushing the snub pistol in its holster. The weight of the weapon was a bitter comfort as he considered saving that last bullet.

Then, the intercom crackled to life, and a new voice cut through the darkness.

"Captain!" the sensor operator’s tone was sharp, urgent. "Another ship has arrived! The pirates—they’re turning away to face it!"

Falkirk paused, his breath catching. His grip on the rabbit’s foot eased slightly as a glimmer of hope sparked in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, the old spacer wasn’t out of luck after all.

Round 1
INITIATIVE ORDER:

1. Wayward Wind
2. Calbrandr
3. Beowulf

Manoeuvre Step > Attack Step > Actions Step
Pilots: Spend thrust points to increase or decrease range between ships, aid gunners of laser turrets, or dock with an adjacent enemy. Unused thrust points can be reserved later for evasive manoeuvres. Zuni can spend up to 6 thrust points.

Currently, the Wayward Wind is 30 thrust points from the Calibrandr and 35 from the Beowulf.

Captains: [Optional!] If you wish to take charge and guide your crew, make a Leadership (SOC) check. The effect indicates the number of Boons you can hand during this round. If the effective is negative, however, these will instead be Banes that the enemy can apply to your rolls!

Seally provides what guidance she can, organizing the crew and assigning resources where she can. Mainly, she's a firm hand they can turn to, and focus on their tasks at hand.