The US-Opportunity - A Biography

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Ramifications

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When word got to Jimmy about the latest news back home, he made a snap decision. Work had been progressing well the past few weeks as the Hellfire Legion striped most of the hull panels off and relayed the front of the vessel in the ablative plating that had been brought from their brief stop in Bretonia. The superstructure had been well reinforced, the spine stronger than ever. But the tasks further down the list - some that others would have put at the top of Jimmy's priority list, like shields and proper armor reinforcements - would have to wait.

Loading up on some black market munitions for the return trip, Jimmy's heart would not stop racing. The news was bad. The Navy had found the Creek. He had to get back to Oyster. He was breaking the rules.

He was keeping his girlfriend on the station.

The Serpentis Maximus had been summoned. He had taken a few crew now, only those he trusted. They were all completely unfamiliar with the ship and would have to learn by simple watching at first. All was going well.

"We are approaching a gravity well" One young man named Kevin ventured.

"It's just the Cortez star." Then he whispered something no-one quite heard. And then "Check the engine plasma levels or something..."

There was some beeping from behind the pair. The a thoughtful sounding "Oh I see..." Beep beep beep.

"What are you doing?"

"It's OK, I got it." Beep beep.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO THAT CONSOLE!" Harold was roaring, eyes locked dead ahead.

Jimmy was sitting in the secondary pilot seat. He was mostly monitoring hull integrity and the engine temperatures as well as calling out navigational hazards on the scanner array. He watched as the temps on the port, and then about a second later the starboard engine, dip then rise sharply.

"Shut them down! Before they fry!" Inertia dampers kicked in. The ship lurched, then came to a full stop. But it was too late. There was a bright orange flash The entire vessel was on fire. With this cargo that was bad. Very bad.

"There's no charted cloud here. I can't see out the porthole. It's just... Smoky.

"So what did you touch?" Jimmy was asking now.

"I just vented the waste plasma..."

Harold looked at Jimmy. "What does the hull integrity read?"

"Uh, it's at zero. That can't be right though. We would be dead. The munitions must be intact too..."

"The hull sensors are fried. Ignore them. And you - don't touch anything!" Harold glared at Kevin.

"Engines are still running. And we aren't dead so... Let's go."

As the Serpentis Maximus moved forward, it exuded an envelop of cooked waste plasma smog. But it was moving forward. And in the right direction also. Harold weaved the vessel through the ice in California as though it was a living snake. Soon the Serpent was home.

Rushing up to the command deck of the station he burst through the threshold. She was there, watching the panels. As Deirdre looked up at him, tears ran down her pale cheek.

"Is it true?"

"Yes, yes..." Then her face hardened into one of resolve.

"They have found us."