We left our heroes in the pantope, contemplating what to do about the
draconian manta-ship that just launched two missiles at the area we're
trying to evacuate. Well, first we gate the two missiles into the sea.
Tom puts Robbie in charge of slamming the gates shut, since he has the
fastest reflexes.
Bam
Ow. That one was close. The second missile went off very nearly at the
time we gated it through, and some of the explosion leaks into the
pantope, where, as usual, it echoes around the closed geometry for some
time.
Bam (Bam (bam ((bam (((bam))) )) )...
In freeze-frame, we open a couple of windows, to shoot at the
manta-ship. We note that it's in the very act of firing some kind of
beam weapon at the puff of smoke where the missile went off. It shot
its own missile, to set it off on us. Well, we knew they could detect
our gates; we didn't know they could react to them so quickly. What
to do?
We decide to baffle them with decoy doors -- open doors about fifteen
times over three seconds. As a safety precaution, Gannar taxies our
little fighter craft off the pantope, back to the ranch, and everyone
else hunkers down in the armored airlock.
We start in on our decoy sequence. A few moments into it, Kate, Robbie,
and Katrina's ray guns all blow up in their holsters.
Zap Zappity-zap
In the confusion, we leave our doors hanging open. A small missile
comes through and hits the pantope deck.
BOOM
The armored airlock goes rolling, with all of us inside it. Dafnord
grabs for Tom; Robbie grabs for the helm computer, only to find it's
dead. "Close the door!" Dafnord yells at Tom, who does so.
Just after the second missile comes in.
BOOM again.
After a while, the airlock stops pitching. We pick ourselves up, open
the door on what is fortunately still a side wall, and look about. The
soft emerald deck has several interesting new gouges, and one section of
it is a sea of green rubble, bobbing up and down in the pantope's plane
of gravity. The various chocolate-fruit trees that were growing in
planters have become chocolate pudding mixed with tossed bracken.
Braeta curses, finding that ALL the computers she had in her back pack
have died.
Seems the manta ship projected some little spherical object into the
pantope, which them hit us with an EMP (Electro-Magnetic Pulse). This
fried everything electronic, including the helm computer.
Robbie is very glad he isn't electronic anymore. Gannar, when he gets
back, is very, very glad he wasn't on the pantope at the time. And a
good thing the fighter wasn't, either.
Fortunately, the magic tent was folded up. This meant that the spare
helm computers and the autodoc were all largely Elsewhere when the EMP
went off.
"Okay," says Tom, "I know what I did wrong." People glare at him. What
he means is that, next time, we'll put the doors (and any subsequent
missiles) in the armored airlock, while we stay outside, hunkered down
behind a force-field generator.
So we do it all again, running a sequence of decoy doors, while Gannar,
the fighter, and all the valuables we don't need at the moment are
pushed off onto the ranch.
We back up and watch our first sequence of decoys go by. Hm. Those two
missiles that hit us had four siblings that didn't hit us. Modified
rapture. We lay some more decoys without incident, then pause and bring
the fighter and Gannar back aboard.
There follows a peculiar sort of dogfight, in which the manta ship
launches another burst of six missiles, while Gannar shoots at it from
various angles, with the fighter's lasers. It shrugs these off with
radiation screens or some such.
BOOM
The plasma cannon seems more effective.
BOOM back.
Nice riposte. Our plasma cannon is toast. However, the manta ship is
now sinking out of the air, toward the city. We watch for a bit in slow
motion.
And it's just as well it is slow motion. Markel and Dafnord spot
another EMP sphere starting to fade in on us. Tom goes to freeze-frame.
flash
The globe goes off while still translucent, doing no damage.
"Time to dunk 'em," Robbie opines. Tom agrees and opens a wide, wide
gate, dropping the dying manta ship into the sea.
CRASH
We sigh with relief and reluctantly turn our attention to all those
stray missiles our foe shot off.
Updated: 7-Oct-06
©1984, 1994, 2005 Earl Wajenberg. All Rights Reserved.
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