Guest submission from John

Getting to the story, I popped into Groo earlier today intent on doing some ratting. The system had 13 or so people in it, pretty standard. A quick look at the local channel revealed Verone of the VETO corporation. I'd seen him in local in Elaral (the next system over) earlier and knew he wasn't someone I wanted to meet in a dark alley. Still, Groo is notoriously intolerant of pirates, so I decided to stick to my plan and warped to the first asteroid belt.

The plan didn't last. Sitting 20km away was a flashing red icon that quickly resolved itself as an *Ishkur*. I didn't recognize the pilot, but there was no time for research.

I was in a system with at least one known pirate. Another was sitting 20km away in a ship I could only dream of having the skills to fly. Groothese was my home. What else could I do?

Two things, I decided. First, I commanded the ship to warp -- somewhere, anywhere, just not here. Second, the pirate had to know we were serious, that he wasn't safe. So I targeted him.

All this was within just a few seconds of arrival. He probably didn't even realize I was in the belt with him until his targetting computer recognized my ship as a threat and counter-locked.

The targeting computer finalized. The Ishkur, piloted by Grimwalius d'Antan, resolved itself as an icon projected onto my retina, along with a dozen vital statistic including speed, vector, seperation, and shield and armor integrity.

The Ishkur had turned and was approaching at a terrifying rate of speed, but to no end. The warp command had been inputed, and in just a few seconds I would be soaring away...

...except, I wasn't. Somehow I had miskeyed the warp code. Instead of aligning and accelerating for the jump, my Thorax was drifting along at a leisurely 6m/s, on its way to a full stop. Panicked, I re-inputed the command, with the Ishkur now just a few kilometers away.

Nothing. The AI's voice rang in m y ears, "The hyperspace medium is refusing modulation. We have been jammed."

So be it. My will raked across the ship's tactical systems, activating blasters, webbers and a nosferatu. A casual thought roused my drones from electronic slumber and sent them rocketing from their cradles toward the enemy ship. Tiny sparks flickered at the back of my eyes as the Ishkur began to return fire.

Our ships nearly collided as we both raced towards optimum range -- nearly zero. Both webbed, we were stuck together, slowly clawing each other to death.

But, not alone. As soon as the firing started I shouted a cry for help into the local channel. Surely, in Groothese, aid would quickly arrive.

It did. Our ships had barely reoriented after their near miss when a cruiser, another *Thorax*, leapt into the belt beside us.

/Yes!/ I thought. /Two on one!/

A few seconds later the new arrival's icon began flashing red, and my ship's counter-targeting m echanism began to acquire it.

****, I thought, /two on one!/

There was nothing to do about the new arrival. A flight of drones had erupted from the Ishkur and were sucking the energy out of my capacitor. My shields were holding, but just barely.

I sent another appeal to the local channel, this time making sure to specify that Grimwalius was the pirate, in case the new arrival -- Laocoon -- was merely confused.

Confused or not, his actions were clear. The Thorax's railguns activated and my beleagured shields crumbled under the assault. My armor, which should have withstood twice as much punishment as the shields, melted away at a horrible rate. Getting desperate, I put out another cry for help.

And that's when thing's changed. Laocoon, apparently enjoying the slaughter, added his own contribution to the local channel. "Yeah, I'd like to see you try."

Apparently those were the magic words. Within seconds pilots were relaying their intent to assist. One, then two more pilots arrived in the belt.

But it was too late for me. The last of my nanofiber armor evaporated under the incredible energies pouring into it. The Thorax's structure, never meant to do more than hold the ship together against the stresses of warp drive, crumbled. Within moments nearly ever deck had been exposed to space, until one final round ripped through the hull like it was tissue and breached the warp core.

The ship was dead. Venting coolant had started an erratic roll along the z-axis, and without functioning inertial dampeners the ship was spinning itself apart. It was time to go.

Explosive bolts fired outside my capsule, freeing it from its moorings and sending it into space. A mere 20 meters away something finally failed in the Thorax's engines, and for a millionth of a second the dying ship was the brightest object in the solar system.

All this barely registered on me -- I was busy frantically keying a warp c ode to the nearest station. I was faster than the pirates -- if they were even trying to stop me -- and a few seconds later was safely away.

I was done, but the fight I had started continued without me. Verone, the pirate I had seen in the local channel all that time ago (really just a few minutes) had arrived, making it three members of the VETO corporation against the angry residents of Groothese.

I had done my part, though. Verone's Enyo and Laocoon's Thorax were undamaged, but Grimwalius' Ishkur was mortally wounded, with only shreds of armor covering a battered structure. By the time the fight ended a few minutes later, all three VETO pilots were flying home in pods.

It wasn't a fight I'd meant to get into. I can't even really claim I did well, being the first to die. Still, the end result was a victory for Groothese, and that was enough for me.