from the rear hold, but he certainly didnât want to wait to find out.
âLock down the cargo area!â Wilcox shouted back to the cabin.
A crew member raced over to try to close the door, but a lightning ball struck him in the chest and sent him tumbling backward through the air.
Six alien figures emerged from the open cargo hold. But these werenât the vreeks. They were a grizzly-looking crew of off-planet thugs, armed with voltage slingshots and sonic crossbows. Zachary noticed that they all had shockles on their wrists and ankles, but the chains of pure electricity that connected them had been deactivated.
âGo without me!â Ryic shouted to Zachary and Kaylee. âIâm still stuck.â
Zachary hurried to one of the cabinâs underbins and unstrapped a pocketknife from the row of maintenance tools. He raced back to slash through the webbing still binding Ryic. Two of the nearby hijackersâemaciated creatures of fur and boneâsnarled like wolves. They charged at the crew member closest to the cargo hold, tackling him to the ceiling.
âMayday, Mayday!â Zachary could hear Wilcox calling urgently from the flight deck. âThis is Dreadnought Epsilon . We have hostiles on the ship. Current location is two hundred and forty thousand miles outside Space Fold DES-762. Coordinates X-120, Y-26, Z-201. Immediate assistance requested.â
The dreadnoughtâs crew members sent concentrated beams of sound flying from their sonic crossbows. An all-out battle for control of the ship was under way. Zachary, Ryic, and Kaylee pushed themselves off and headed for the relative safety of the flight deck. Zachary looked over his shoulder as a beam of sound hit one of the hijackers, which had more in common with an amoeba than any mammal or human. The creature burst like a popped tomato.
âLetâs move!â Wilcox shouted. âThree Lightwings dying on my watch is not my idea of how to get a promotion.â
They made one final lunge, gliding safely inside the flight deck. Wilcox punched a button on the wall, and the cockpit door sealed shut.
The sounds of the battle continued in the cabin. The door did little to mute the explosions and screams on the other side.
âHow long until Indigo 8 sends help?â Zachary asked.
âIndigo 8?â Wilcox repeated. âThat signal wonât reach Earth. Best we can hope for is somebody from the nearby prospecting station hearing it and coming this way.â
A loud blast struck the flight-deck door, causing it to bend in.
âPut your warp gloves on,â Wilcox ordered Zachary, Ryic, and Kaylee.
Zachary had almost forgotten about the metal orb sitting in his pocket. He reached in and removed the sphere, holding it in the palm of his hand. He squeezed his thumb and pinkie together, and with a whir the gauntlet extended down his arm.
Ryic and Kaylee gloved up as well.
Warning lights began to flash on the cockpit window.
âSomethingâs wrong! The starbox must have shorted,â Wilcox said.
A thundering boom rocked the flight-deck door, this time blowing it open. One of the six hijackers, a muscular, olive-skinned beast, stood there with photon cannons under two of his four arms. These shotgun-sized weapons could fire double blasts of superheated light that could turn steel into Swiss cheese. The creature gave a slobbering laugh, drool dripping down its thorny chin.
To Zacharyâs astonishment, Wilcox said, âWe surrender. The ship is yours.â
He lifted his hands above his head. But not to surrender. In one fluid motion, he grabbed a voltage slingshot from a hidden compartment on the ceiling and fired at the hijacker. The electrically charged ammunition struck the creature square in the chest, shocking it with such force that the beast went spiraling backward.
The surviving crew members in the cabin were doing their best to keep the remaining hijackers from reaching the flight deck.
Greg Cox
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