I Hate Your Brilliant Ideas

Posted: April 30, 2014 by writingsprint in Dubrillion Burning, Science fiction
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

space battleI was watching a ridiculous action movie over the weekend and got inspired to write this scene. Don’t even ask me what it was — it’s embarrassing — but I will say it’s one hell of a fun roller coaster ride.

Post #18 of the Dubrillion Burning series

Raffa fired the aft rear thruster as hard as it would go, then pushed it into red. Alerts went off all over the cabin. Blue missile jets streaked less than twenty meters over the cockpit.

“Whoo—eee! I do hate it when that happens!”

Cartog could barely keep up. “Five still on us! I’ve got two more coming, one two zero!” Raffa heard the upper turret firing. The scope flared.

“Make that one less,” Corso said through the ship’s comm.

“That’s my boy, Corso. Keep it up!” To Cartog, he said, “One second. Exhale when it happens.”

“When what happens?”

Raffa flipped the Comet over like a pancake and rammed the engines to full. The Comet’s gravity system couldn’t keep up. Everyone on the ship was thrown sideways, then back as the engine burn kicked them in the ass. Cartog gagged. He swore a blue streak.

“That’s good! Swearing counts as exhaling!”

The fighters on their tail broke wildly as the Comet came right at them. Corso took out one head-on and shot the other two as they tried to come around. A piece of the first one’s wing clanked off the Comet’s belly as they flew through the wreckage and dispersing gas.

The newcomers got clear shots on the Comet’s upper deck but Raffa felt it coming first. He rolled the Comet over and most of the fire missed. What did hit battered the shields like angry hailstones. The shields pulsed blue haze over the cockpit. The Comet groaned but didn’t break. “Hang in there, girl. I’ve got this,” Raffa whispered.

“We’re down to three. We’re heading back toward the enemy squadron.”

“Yup. I know.”

“They’re coming around.” They started taking fire. Raffa adjusted the shields just as proximity warheads started going off all around them. The ship shook hard enough to make their teeth chatter. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I have a brilliant idea!”

“I hate your brilliant ideas!”

A bomb went off so close it felt like a contact hit. It wasn’t — they would be dead already if it was. The enemy fighters broke off. The cockpit window looked they were flying through Balmorran independence day.

“Get ready to fire missiles on my mark.”

“You’re shitting me!”

God, he missed Risha. “On my mark!”

“Listen to him, Car! I know this trick!” Corso yelled.

The incoming fire reached crescendo. Raffa pointed the Comet’s nose toward the conning tower of the nearest ship. A destroyer.

“Three… two… FIRE THE MOTHERF—“

Cartog never heard the end of what Raffa said. The Comet took a shot to the nose so hard that it blew down the forward shields. He still hit the missile release. A fraction of a second later, Raffa moved the Comet’s nose two ticks north and went to lightspeed.

The missiles locked on automatically, and the Comet’s hyperspace wake disrupted the ship’s shields enough to make them flicker. The missiles sailed through unimpeded and slammed the destroyer dead amidships, blowing off half of its sensor web and comm systems. It wasn’t a kill — the Comet didn’t have that kind of firepower — but it would be out of action for a month.

The sudden flash of light and the quiet of hyperspace sounded like they’d flown into a church. Raffa engaged the autopilot. He hooted and slapped his leg. Corso was laughing. Cartog was still staring out the viewport.

“You… are… insane,” Cartog said.

Raffa handed him a flask. “And you are no longer a virgin. You’ve flown with me. That means you drink with the captain.”

Cartog closed his eyes hard and swigged it back hard. Raffa applauded. The former agent blinked in surprise. “Dear gods. That’s really good.” He handed it back to Raffa.

The captain toasted him. “Twenty-four-year-old Mantellian. Always.”

“I was expecting rotgut.”

“Only for people we don’t like.” Raffa pat him on the shoulder. “You did great, Car. Why don’t you go chill out? Corso and I can check the damage.”

Cartog shook his head. “No. I want to help.” The guy was still shaking.

Raffa smiled. “I’ll make a spacer out of you yet.”

Photo credit: Blaster219 at Flickr. Photo is unmodified.
Shared under Creative Commons license.


Have you ever been in a situation when all hell was breaking loose but it worked out okay?

First thoughts:

I like this scene. It was a fun idea and it got even more fun as I wrote it. I started to hang up on the tech jargon and the exact size of the enemy force. I made it all up on the fly, but sometimes you lay those bones down before you write the scene. Whatever works.

Moving on…

One of my favorite parts is the drink on the other side. Cartog can handle danger, but flying with a madman is something else. The poor guy’s been through the wringer. Not only did he pass initiation, he got a drink of good whiskey besides.

This is just the end, of course, but even this part needs to be a little longer — say, when they’re heading towards the destroyer — to torture Cartog a little more and sweeten the payoff.

Speaking of which, I’ll need to show him doing more than holding on for dear life when I fill out the scene. He’s in the copilot position, so he’s watching sensing and ship’s systems, including the shields, and the hyperdrive navicomputer.

Naturally, I need to come up with a scene where Raffa is in Cartog’s element now. 🙂

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Comments
  1. A.D. Everard says:

    THIS is BRILLIANT. I loved every second. The action was very smooth and very exciting – it flowed. I loved the dialogue, and the dialogue on the other side, too. A lot of fun. 😀

    Like

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