Conflagration

"Hull Repairs"

Radiation alarms were going off all over the Ready Sophia's Bridge as the helmsman lowered the ship into the sun's upper atmosphere. "Silence that shit," Capt. Villalobos ordered, and a second later, the alarms were silenced. The radiation lights still continued to flash, but no one paid them any mind. The entire crew of the Sophie was working as one now to kill this cursed freighter. "It's been almost an hour now," the captain wondered aloud, "how could they still be alive and flying?"

"They must have modified their shields somehow, sir," the tac officer answered. "They must have a really good mechanic on board."

"Hmm," Capt. Villalobos said.

"You know, at the end of the day, these civvie freight dogs in their unarmed shitbucket have proven a greater adversary than Turd Law. Gotta admire them for that, at least."

"I'll admire them when they're a shower of wreckage falling into the sun."

"Sir!" the tac officer said excitedly. "They're turning. Changing heading."

"Navigator," the captain said.

"Aye, sir. Turning to follow." The navigator anticipated his order.

"Where are they going?" Cdr. Tengrove asked.

But Capt. Villalobos could see what these bitches were doing. On the tactical display, he could plainly see where the hardpointer was heading. "There," he said. "That's where she's heading. That's where she's going to make her move." Predictable. Stupid civvie pilot was going to make the most obvious play on the board. And we'll be waiting for her.

* * *

"They'll never be expecting it. Guaranteed."

Erin didn't share Lyssa's optimism, but when they'd spotted the solar flare on the Primary Flight Display, they'd both known it was their best shot. They could hide behind the solar flare as they rocketed upwards, away from the sun and out into open space. They would only be vulnerable to the Ready Sophia's fire for about a minute or so. This would happen as they flew above the top of the flare and before they entered a region of space where the radiation would be light enough to activate the TFG.

On the TCAS display, they saw the pirate ship high above them turn to follow. "They know where we're going," Erin said.

"Don't worry, girl," Lyssa reassured her with what Erin was sure was nothing but false bravado. "We got this. You handle the flying and I'll handle the...um, 'hull repairs'."

"Roger that," Erin said. She had to trust her friend to do her part just as Lyssa was trusting Erin to do the flying part.

Erin maneuvered the plane around the column of solar plasma shooting spaceward until she was on the far side of it. In the right seat, Lyssa started typing commands into her phone.

As the hardpointer rounded the solar flare, Erin checked the status of their TFG capacitor. It was showing 88% charged. She switched the magnetic ducting for engines No. 1 and No. 3 back to thrust and instantly felt the satisfying power of the extra engines. She pulled back on the stick and brought the nose vertical as she pushed all three engines into the emergency arc. She held the engines at 95% maximum thrust. 788NC was shooting away from the star and out toward open space like a rocket. Above them, waiting for them to emerge from behind the shelter of the solar flare, was the pirate ship with all its formidable weaponry. They had only one chance to disable the pirate ship and it all fell to Lyssa.

"How we coming on those hull repairs?"

Lyssa didn't answer right away, but just kept entering commands into her phone. Half a minute later, as Erin continued her vertical climb towards open space, Lyssa reached up and pressed four buttons on the overhead panel. A series of four thunks reverberated through the plane's structure and then Lyssa said: "Hull repairs are underway."