2647 A.D. – Crisis Response, Kay-lur Galaxy
The 52-gun Reclamation sails through star filled skies, Leftenant Clayton Wade rapidly descending along slick handrails to the lower gun deck.
Hurling through congested space at full sail, the power of distant galaxies fills the Reclamation's glowing canvas, propelling the massive warship along the outskirts of a mostly civilian fleet.
'Heave! Heave!' the crews shout as they run out the guns to starboard, laboring hard as the immense, modern cannons latch and lock into place before whirling with energy to charge their shot.
Leftenant Wade updates the Commander on the quarterdeck. "Starboard guns out, Sir!" he shouts into the comms as he holds tight, the Captain ordering the Reclamation to come about as the scene before them becomes a terrible reality.
The large transport ship Catalyst burns, plumes of smoke and fire shooting from her as she lists in the dark skies, the heat of destruction resonating on deck as the Reclamation flies under her, doing its best to keep out of the black cloud and flames.
A potentially hostile ship appears as the Reclamation's dual engines thrust the ship forward and around the now derelict Catalyst.
"Stand by to engage!" the Master Gunner shouts, calls of the men echoing to stand by with taught lanyards in tight fists, waiting for the word should the Leftenant give the order, releasing they and their guns with a flurry of hate and burning cosmic blasts.
"Unidentified ship, unidentified ship," the Signaleer calls over the open net to their suspected enemy. The Reclamation banks, causing everyone to keep one hand for themselves, one for the ship. "Vacate the area or you will be destroyed. I repeat: Unidentified ship..."
"Ready, boys!" the Commander calls on the radio to the men below. They're ready to fire as the Reclamation brings her starboard broadside into view of the suspected enemy. She's likely responsible for destroying the burning Catalyst, but no one is for certain. She's a massive ship, guns visible as they protrude from her sides, top, and below.
A massive row of modern guns extend from the Reclamation, cosmic energy built up and ready to be unleashed. The rogue ship continues along its current path, the Reclamation keeping pace. The Signaleer continues broadcasting his message for the unknown ship to depart, Leftenant Wade's heart pounding as the word 'Fire!' remains trapped on the end of his tongue.
'Come on,' Clayton whispers behind gritted teeth, his eyes darting to the sight of the rogue through the open gun ports. 'On with it, then.'
The two ships stare each other down, the burning Catalyst surrounded by other friendly ships having arrived to assist the living and recover the dead.
Other than the Reclamation's engines rumbling behind the massive sailing ship, its quiet.
The rogue ship rolls, turns, and capitulates. Trails of bright red light burn as she speeds away.
"Up," the Commander orders the helmsman. "She's rolling away, Sir," he calls to the Captain. "To the Catalyst for recovery, then?"
Upon receiving the word, the Commander orders the Reclamation to begin assisting in the recovery. The crew holds on as the engines draw additional away power from the sails, a bright blue wake burning behind the galactic sailing ship. The Reclamation turns and shifts, her starboard guns extended, crews doing their best to prepare for their next task as the perceived threat has gone.
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Leftenant
Short StoryA Clayton Wade Short Story https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1084672