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Our illicit cargo can survive any missile attack…

But we sure as hell can’t.

I grab Tasha’s shoulders, half supporting myself and half steadying her will as she veers us hard left, towards the gravity well of the moon. The heat-seeking missiles follow us like hornets, but the Toads didn’t calculate the added force of gravity or the almost-suicidal evasion maneuver as Tasha pushes theWayward Scythebeyond the limits. The ship creaks and groans as massive pressure is pressed on each system as we go into overdrive.

The edges of my vision close in. Darkness. It’s a vise trying to cut off my life-force. The heat-seeking missiles veer off wildly, but we’re spinning off at G-forces too high to handle.

“Brace yourself,” mumbles Tasha, the words slurring out like she’s drunk. I squeeze her shoulders tight, trying to keep her conscious. If she blacks out, we’re all dead. Theme screams, the technician’s voice like a distant echo.

The explosions blast out.

Off-target, but still a wave of energy and death that reaches out its fiery hands to claim us. TheWayward Scythebucks and groans as Tasha pushes it past the limits. We ride the energy wave of the missile explosion as we slingshot around the moon.

“We’re venting! We’re fucking venting!” Theme cries out, panicked. I force myself to turn and stare him down. There’s tears in his eyes, and his hands are off the controls as he presses his fingers against his temple in terror.

I release my grip on Tasha’s shoulders and stumble to the recruit, barely keeping on my feet. I steady myself by grabbing his chair, twisting it to force him to face me, and giving him a good, sharp slap designed to make an audible cracking sound of flesh on flesh.

He blinks, but there’s still terror in his eyes. I give him a backhand and the rictus of horror leaves his face as his thoughts return. I shoulder his chair back into place. “We’re venting, sure—but the replicator can handle the air loss. Just get us around that moon!”

I direct the last words to Tasha as she hurtles us around the moon’s gravitational field and away from danger. If we can just put some distance between us and the Toads, we can find someplace to hide on the world below.

Hope builds up as we escape the certain death of the Toads.

It’s snuffed out when I see something deadlier in front of us. Something that makes the Toad attack ships look like flies.

A massive warship, sleek and predatory, so huge I feel like we’re a minnow in front of a whale. “Captain!” I yell out to warn her, but it’s too late.

That’s no merchant vessel before us. That’s a killing machine, bristling with missiles, las-cannons and Orb-Beams.

All homed in on us.

The warning systems go haywire. The cockpit is bathed in a red glow as every alert goes off. Our HUD tracks the multitude of artillery aimed at us.

We’re caught.

Behind us are the vicious Toad attack ships ready to blast us to nothing to take our stolen cargo.

Ahead of us is a behemoth. Tasha’s mouth drops, and she stares ahead, unable to do anything. The warship’s loading docks open like a gigantic maw and theWayward Scytheshudders and veers towards it.

“What are you doing!” cries Theme. “Why are you headingtowardsthem?”

It doesn’t matter if he’s terrified now. Slapping sense in him won’t change anything. He’s never been in a battle before.

He’s never felt the pull of a tractor beam.

“I…I don’t have a choice!” Tasha fights with the controls, but we unerringly move towards the warship. “They must have a tractor lock on us!”

We’re drawn in like a fish on a line. Our ship’s engines are helpless against the power of the beam pulling us. Our mining beams would glance harmlessly off its shields.

My stomach churns.

I don’t like having my fate in someone else’s hands.

Now it’s owned by the captain of the sinister, unmarked ship.

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Sawoot