Out of missiles, the Damocles extended its “sword” and rammed the enemy ship.

MOTE prompt

“Pilot!” Mercutio shouted into the commons. “Pilot!”

The circuit burred with static.

“Teru, get her back!”

“Circuit’s fine. She’s just not there,” Teru said.

“Fika fiku,” Mercutio said. “Maltego—“

“They’ve kicked loose Cal-9,” Teru interrupted.

The little shuttle, released with a bright flash of gas from the airlock, drifted aside, starting a slow spin.

“They’re gonna run with her,” Maltego said. “Thermals say the engines are going hot!”

There was a flicker of burning hydrogen at the tuyeres.

“Merdo! Feko!” Mercutio pounded his fist on the console. “Maltego! Give me running engines!”

“Estro, I can blow feko up, but I ain’t an engineer. Pilot’s good for that.”

“Thanks, Maltego,” Mercutio said bitterly. “She’s good for piloting, too. Teru!”

Teru raised her hands. “Apollo’s Dart’s gonna fly rings around us, estro. I can hit the engine room and maybe get the tokamak burning in half an hour, but he’ll be out of the trailing Trojans and heading for Zeus before we get underway at a tenth g.—And they’re hailing.”

“Put them through.”

“Oi, MI, how’s the weather over there?”

“Come over here, and I’ll show you,” Mercutio said, trying not to snarl.

“Oh, I think I’m happier over here, and you heavysiders can stay with that hunk of junk over there.”

Mercutio ground his teeth. “All right, you’ve got the cargo, give me back Kuŝim.”

“She’s got a better job over here now. Say goodbye, Kuŝim. No? Well, she would if she could.” The pirate laughed. “Goodbye, MI.”

“And he’s gone. Her suit circuits closed, too.” Teru looked up bleakly. “I’ll go to engineering, try to spin up the tokamak.”

“Dalibor, we got anything to throw at them?”

“All Damoklos had was two missiles, and we already used ’em. I could perforate them with the chain gun, but we’re likely to kill Kuŝim and everyone else, tear up the tokamak, and kill ourselves with it at this range.”

“Wait,” Mercutio said. “Wait, wait. Sit down and buckle up, Teru. Give me attitude jets.”

“You don’t need to back off, estro,” she said. “He’s gonna be moving and fast in about sixty seconds.”

“No,” Mercutio said. “Give them full, and drop out the grapple.”

“What?”

“That hook, that sword, the grapple, whatever, that you hook to asteroid surfaces with. I’m grabbing him with it. Now! Come on, Teru!”

“I don’t think—”

“Not asking for think, just do. Aim at his arse and go, full open!”

She gaped, then hit the grapple and opened the attitude jets.

“Maltego, Dalibor, close visors and load carbines. We’re going in hot.”

“Aye that,” Maltego said, and Dalibor snapped his visor shut.

“He’s hailing again,” Teru said.

“Let him hail.”

“He’s kicked his attitudes on. We’re already gaining, and his mass is bigger—can’t use his rears by the tuyeres—five hundred meters, four hundred—there goes his chain gun!”

Mercutio heard the chunk chunk chunk as cubes of iron perforated the foreshrouding. A klaxon went off—Pressure! Pressure! Pressure!

And then Damokolos impacted Apollo’s Dart’s tuyeres at three-quarters of a meter a second with a heavy crunch, driving the grapple into the aftshrouding.

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This week’s prompt challenge was from AC Young: “Out of missiles, the Damocles extended its ‘sword’ and rammed the enemy ship.” My prompt went to nother Mike. See all the challenges and responses over at More Odds Than Ends!

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