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The Galaxii Series Omnibus 1 By Christina Engela Characters: 5409

Updated: 2018-06-30 19:01


"Captain." Ensign Muller called. "Indomitable is leaving!"

"Yes, I can see that, Ensign." Mykl said, his eyes on his console display. "Helm, see that they don't spot us! Nordyke, notify Mordrake they're on the move!"

"Yes, sir."

"Where d'you think they're going?" Mykl asked Blachart.

"Probably to look for more reinforcements?" Adam shrugged.

The Indomitable exited the system alone, heading out the opposite direction to the one they'd arrived by. Within minutes, they went to warp, leaving the stage set for Mordrake and the Antares to make their move. The timing looked perfect.

A short while later, Blachart, a.k.a. Adam, stood on the gray metallic grid of the hangar deck of the Antares, appreciating the lines of a small, somewhat ordinary-looking shuttle that was being prepared for launch. Part of the preparation involved several entechs crawling all over and under it, some with tins of paint and paint brushes, feverishly painting it black to make it look like a Corsair vessel. Most of this was already almost done, though he wouldn't care to commit himself to any serious quality-rating of their workmanship. One of the entechs had black paint-smears all over his hands and face, and splatters on the front of his cover-all. Two others were busy wrapping up the fitment of two ion-cannon assemblies under the stubby fins on either side of the hull.

"Think you can handle it?" Came the voice of his friend and captain of this ship, Mykl d'Angelo, who seemed to be smiling with amusement at his discomfort.

"It's a sick joke." Blachart smiled and nodded back at him. "But sure, I'll do i

"Okay, I'm good with that." Adam said, just as his pilot arrived to complete his systems check. The pilot was a younger man dressed in black clothing, more or less like the hastily improvised ensemble of black items Blachart was wearing. He smiled at them – looking as though he should be sporting a leather flying helmet, silk scarf and goggles instead, and kicking the tires of the craft if it had any.

"Sir." The man nodded his greeting at Mykl.

"Carry on, Ensign." He nodded. Then, as the pilot dutifully went about the business before him, and entered the shuttle through the open side door, "Brenton's a good man. A good pilot. A little green, but he'll get you there and back."

"He'd better." Said Blachart grimly, just as the sound of turbines hummed into earshot. They shook hands firmly. Mykl watched the figure in Corsair garb turn and walk to the open side-hatch of the black shuttle. Once inside, the hatch closed. A minute later, the shuttle lifted off the deck, turned a few degrees and powered out the hangar bay door into the dangerous black outside.

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