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   Chapter 22 No.22

High Steaks By Christina Engela Characters: 5175

Updated: 2018-06-30 12:02

"Mr. – uh, Tim!" Bubba called, having noticed something flashing on his helm console. "There's another ship comin' in, looks jus' like that one!"

"Garn!" Said Deire, retaking his seat after having just hi-fived Triple-J for the third time. "He muster phoned a friend!"

"Uh-oh." Tim jibed, looking at Vic. "Hope we still have something to send them?"

"Still got plenty left, sir!" Vic grinned, giving Tim a mock salute – before making a spirited dash back to the transmatter chamber. Tim retook the center seat, and could swear he heard her laughing all the way there.

The new arrival slowed to a dead stop, and seemed to be a little taken aback at the sight of its sister-ship – which by now seemed to be floating upside down, and was completely unresponsive. The Celeste was motionless, parked a good half a click in front of it. In fact, it was a good five minutes before the commander of the new ship decided to fire a warning-shot across Celeste's bow, and send a threatening email.

"Attention loderunner Celeste! Slowly back away from our other ship and return immediately to Atro City Space Port!!!" Dory read aloud. "This one has three exclamation marks this time, Tim!"

The console buzzed again. They had sent a second message, almost as an afterthought. "Or we will destroy you!!! – geez, what is it with these people and exclamation marks?"

Tim reached for the intercom panel on the armrest. "Ready, Vic?" He asked.

"Sending bovine torpedoes… now!" Vic replied, her voice as clear as if she were there.

From the tra

stationary loderunner, which also seemed to be watching the strange sight.

The commander of Angel Three, a tubby, saggy-looking guy with tangled strands of orange hair sticking out the sides of a black cap with "Make Earth Great Again!" embroidered in bold white letters, gawked at the sight.

"What the…? Prepare to fire a warning shot!" He ordered.


"Excuse me?" He said, turning to give his weapons officer a dirty look for impertinence and bad timing – only to meet the gaze of a pair of big doe-eyes in a funny little head …atop a rather large, furry… rectangle?

In the bedlam that followed, filled with screaming and bleating, the weapons officer – being battered into his console by an extremely aroused animal – fired his warning shot without the proper authorization, and without having actually finished aiming yet. The intense high-energy plasma beam cut across Celeste's bow, disappearing into the distance – and struck Deanna's famously unstable small moon about a hundred kilometers away.

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