Honor Among Jackals

[Jareena Faye]

Hi guys! Sorry I haven't been around lately. I guess running four or five sites can do that to you. I'm back now, and upon returning I thought I'd show off the art trade I did with Feralgrinn. This story is about her character, just a short thing I did on my leisure, but she actually liked it enough that we're gonna make a comic! I'm proud. (It's really not as long as it looks!) Please critique if you can.

 

 

A thin strand of hair fell over her eyes, causing quite a dilemma. Should she leave it there, it would obstruct her vision. Should she hastily wipe it away, that too would be blinding and distracting, leaving her open in too many places. Already she was short of breath, sweating in the awful heat from which there was no comfort.

 

Lunge! The girl had been thinking too much, and it almost cost her. Her spine arced and she almost bent around her opponent's sword. Blows were exchanged with swift precision. They were too quick for the mind to follow. It all depended on instinct, equilibrium, deftness. CLANG! The weight of that casual swing made her stagger. She fought back with all her strength--- it slowly seeped away in the heat ---while he reserved it, smirking at her plight.

 

Her grip loosed for only a moment! and the sword fell away. Now the man's blade was at her neck. Still short of breath, she managed a distinct sigh of exasperation.

 

"Finesse, kiddo. It's all about finesse," the man said.

 

She sighed as he put his sword away. "Why do we have to do this every day?" There was only a hint of whine in her voice, smothered with teenage attitude. "I'm great at shooting up slag."

 

"In more than one way," her father laughed. As the one who had given her that attitude, he had more right to throw it around. "But you won't always have your gun with you. Besides, swords are tradition."

 

"More like lost art," she scoffed. "We're Neo Pirates, Dad."

 

"You're just now figuring that out, huh?" The man grinned slyly, his tanned face wrinkling in the sun. "Go pick up your sword, and let's see about un-losing that lost art of ours."

 

She walked past her home, built on concrete stilts covered with thorny green vine. It looked shady and cool inside the house, she thought jealously, passing under the clan's ship to pick up her fallen sword. The Nebula, read white letters on the gray metal above. The teenager was proud of that ship, even if she wasn't allowed on long "voyages" yet. It waited at the edge of their temporary village in the swamps. It waited for any need of retreat. It waited for a mission. It waited for adventure...

 

 

Sarah "Jackal" O'Malley opened her eyes slowly. She was still in her worn army jacket, arms folded behind her head. Her boots were still on her feet, one folded over the other at the edge of the bed. She moved them back and forth lazily, just to watch. Those same old bangs were interfering with her vision, a strand of burgundy-pink she angrily swiped at.

 

How long had she been asleep? Jackal glanced at the computer clock nearby. It hadn't been long. Still, it was severely annoying to still be waiting for her audience with the ship's captain, when he should have agreed to see her right away. She was eager to get her share of the loot and go. They'd had a bargain! And here she was, in this half-scrap, half-tech cabin, when all she wanted to do was go back to drifting.

 

Jackal climbed to her feet again and paced the room. It smelled strange... musty and smoky. Not all that strong, but unfamiliar; another thing to be annoyed about. She let her feet stomp as she whirled, paced, whirled, paced. Come on!

 

An ugly head appeared as the hatch suddenly opened. Jackal glared at the pirate, who had opened the door rather too eagerly. He glanced around the room until his one eye fell on her. "The captain'll see you now."

 

"That's considerate of him," Jackal said wryly.

 

Just across the narrow "corridor" (if one could call it that) was the captain's quarters, full of wall hangings and heirlooms, a canopy bed, and a big steel computer desk. He was sitting behind it, a burly man in his fifties, skin an almost grayish tone for all the stubble covering him, and scars galore. It was obvious to all how he had become captain, and at this point it was doubtful that even his mother could recognize him. If he'd ever had one.

 

Jackal advanced a few steps over the doorway, stopping halfway to the desk. "What kept you?"

 

"All the men are anxious for the loot, I had to calm 'em down," Captain Grent said, pausing to leer at her discontent. "They get tired of waiting sometimes."

 

"So do I," Jackal said.

 

Grent kept his smile. "Well, ye've paid us back, with int'rest. And a little besides. As promised, you'll get yer percentage."

 

This "percentage" of the loot was enough to buy her own ship. Such was the amount Jackal and this clan of Neo Pirates had fought for, against the sobering odds. Even Jackal herself was surprised that she hadn't been seriously injured in the struggle, but it was just another bright side to owing this sorry excuse for a crew a favor. The percentage promised for exceptional fighting was another bonus, one she was equally surprised to be receiving.

 

"Well?" Jackal placed one hand on her hip.

 

Grent looked as if he might reach for something under his desk, but hesitated. I knew it! Jackal thought.

 

"It's tradition of the crew, my dear," the captain said as he leaned back in the chair, "that the loot isn't divided until after the games."

 

At least he wasn't giving her some half-circuit excuse. This was a new twist. "Games, eh? Something you may not have noticed, Grent." Jackal gave him her own sly smile before dropping it. "I'm not on your crew. So pay up, and I'll be going."

 

"Ye don't have an appointment, do ye? It's almost ready now. Go up on deck to wait. You fight well! The men'll respect you."

 

Jackal considered grabbing her gun, vaulting over the desk, and ramming the mouth just under his jawline all while demanding her pay. The tingling in the back of her neck, still indicating the presence of the one-eyed strongarm behind her, gave reason a chance to dominate. She would play his game, for now. Jackal side-stepped toward the door, making sure the captain saw her sour look, before leaving.

 

Behind the polished steel desk, Captain Grent lowered his knife.

 

 

On her way to the main deck, Jackal slowed down to smirk through a prison cell's bars. She couldn't really see anyone, but she heard a frail frightened voice. Jackal walked on, thinking about what it must be like in that cell. It was a real honor to be captured by pirates, wasn't it?

 

 

 

She left the shade of the Nebula with sword in hand, marching back to meet her father. She would probably never best him in swordplay, but if he was determined to torture her everywhere their clan went, she would at least have to impress him. Young Jackal raised her chin with fifteen-year-old insolence. She would.

 

"Ready?" her father asked, matching her smirk with zeal.

 

They took battle stances. She was distracted by the sound of engines behind her. Wait, no distractions! Jackal steeled herself; but her father did not take the opportunity to humiliate her again. He was straightening, his sword sinking, his eyes trained on something in the distance.

 

A siren went off from the watchtower. "Enemy clan!" They were both moving in an instant. Other pirates were leaving their homes just as swiftly, like a drill team, and everywhere weapons were appearing. The clan ship was already humming. Deck shields were up, preventing unauthorized board. The young and wounded were running up the entry ramp first. Those who were healthy and armed were at the bottom...

 

The enemy clan roared into view on hovercycles, a crew of Neo Pirates wielding sabres and blasters. A shower of lasers streaked along the Nebula's side. Jackal's clan was well-versed in violence. Still blocking the unarmed from sight, they almost appeared to rush into battle with open arms, though those open arms bore weapons. In the din that followed, it was impossible to tell which side was winning. One in the midst of it could only shoot and cut and flail with the ferocity of a wild animal, and stop to think later.

 

Uh-oh! Jackal froze in mid-run, gulped in mid-grin. A big fellow loomed over her. Big sword, too. She turned aside and stumbled to avoid the graze of the blade. Her left hand was groping, out of sight. The sharp metal came into contact with her face, and she screamed. Her eye! Jackal closed them both and fell to her knees, but not before she freed her blaster. The nameless pirate's scream drowned in the blast, and she sensed him falling.

 

Refusing to look at the dead man, Jackal turned her head aside and opened her eyes. She could see! The blade had nicked her just under her right eye, and a trail of blood streamed down her cheek. She couldn't feel the pain just then. Jackal leapt to her feet and dove into the fray again, perhaps over-confident.

 

"Sarah! Get into the ship!"

 

If only she had listened...

 

 

 

The metal cubes rolled across the deck. All pirates were silent, staring, leaning, holding their breath.

 

"Ooohhhhh....?"

 

Shouts and curses flew up when the pieces finally came to a stop. The markings on the upright faces of the dice glowed. "Trin!" a pirate yelled.

 

Jackal grinned as she reached for her winnings--- really metal chips that symbolized her winnings. She hoped to trade them in soon.

 

"Alright alright pipe down there!" Captain Grent bellowed as he approached. The crew grew quiet. "Now we're down to four contestants. Mister Grackle and Mister Biggs, you boys played the best game. You'll spar first!"

 

Curious to learn the rest of the game, since she was so good at it, Jackal eagerly ran with the rest of the crew to the middle of the deck. Something resembling a balance beam had been constructed there, though it stood at least a foot above every man's head. Grackle and Biggs each seized one of the two poles the beam stood on, shimmied up, and balanced at the top. A holographic device was tossed to each of them, and bright blades were projected from the ends. At Captain Grent's signal, the men began to spar, keeping good balance on the narrow rail.

 

Jackal walked a wide circle around the sparring beam, as the rest of the crew spread out to cheer for whoever was winning. As the pirate who had won fourth place, Jackal would be fighting the man in third place on the same beam, and winner would play winner. She decided she liked this game, even if it meant risk and waiting.

 

"Ho-ho!" several voices crowed.

 

Grackle's sword had gone into Biggs. The holographic projection had cut short, appearing to penetrate the pirate's gut. Grackle grinned at him. "You lose!" He kicked Biggs to the deck, turning to raise his arms at the fountain of laughter now surrounding him.

 

Biggs lay where he fell. There was no visible room, but he moaned as if experiencing terrible pain in his abdomen.

 

The captain laughed, clapping his big hands together. "Now! Jackal and Smithe. Up on the beam with ye!"

 

Jackal smirked at Smithe as they both stepped out of the crowd, approaching the structure between them. This would be even easier than the dice, Jackal thought. She'd had plenty of practice, even on narrow walkways such as the rail. Thanks, Dad, Jackal thought. Someday, she would have to tell him about this.

 

 

 

Jackal kicked, screamed, bit and scratched. The three aggravated men holding her, however, weren't discouraged easily. They dragged her across the cabin, hands like vices. Jackal's oversized jacket was full of sabre cuts and laser burns, and it tore in their grasp, but she was not free for long. Not even for two seconds. The enemy pirates pounced on her again, and dragged her back. They shackled her to the wall. Jackal tried to kick again. She kicked only air. A powerful boot slammed into her ribs, which quieted her. The men stomped away as she coughed and spasmed, sucking in air.

 

The clan ship hummed beneath her, and she knew they were taking off. Jackal tried to get herself under control. She could still escape. Or her clan could still be coming! Doubtless she was not the only prisoner, as it was common for this clan to separate its prisoners lest they find comfort in one another, or plan escape. She could get out of this. She was Jackal.

 

A boy was leaning in the doorway, looking at her curiously. Jackal spat in his direction. He smirked a little, and walked on...

 

 

Parry. Parry. Swing. Dodge. Parry. Lunge. Touche.

 

"You aren't bad, as far as fat old men go," Jackal said, only a little breathless.

 

Smithe's facial muscles grew taut, indicating that she had indeed struck his vulnerable spot. Their holographic swords crossed and were held down a moment. Smithe was still stronger than she. Jackal frowned in thought, then decided there was just enough room for her next move: to step back suddenly, freeing both their swords, and sending Smithe off balance.

 

"O, for a thousand tongues to sing! Tongues of fire on metal ring." Jackal laughed as their swords met again. She was having fun with this out-of-shape pirate, formidable though he was. He took things far too personally.

 

"Watch the birdie." She nodded upward as if to distract him as her foot pounded the beam between them. Thinking he was being tricked, Smithe's attention went to the beam. It was in reality neither sky nor beam that would undo him, however. It was Jackal's sword, which struck his, directing his own weapon into his chest. Smithe looked at it in shock and rage as all others cheered.

 

He had lost to a teenage girl.

 

As the defeated Smithe climbed down, Jackal watched Grackle climb up. Jackal and Grackle... a fox and a crow, she thought smugly.

 

"Rough luck, lass," Grackle said as he stood before her on the beam. "This is where you lose your winnings."

 

She shrugged. "You say tomato, I say tomahto."

 

Grackle ran to meet her in the middle of the beam. His large frame was remarkably nimble, his swift strokes stunning. Jackal could barely block them and keep her balance, much less return blow for blow. He bore down on her like a bear, and more than once she felt the blade of light graze her clothing, not even an inch from ending the game. He was good!

 

"The fox and the crow," Jackal muttered to herself.

 

"Forget it. You won't be distracting me with your idle talk," Grackle said. "I already know your techniques."

 

"Not all of them!" Jackal planted her hand firmly on his face. He snuffed and waved his sword, but she had already jumped, leaning on that one hand, vaulting herself straight over his head. She landed behind him on the beam, and with a jump and a twist was facing him again. Grackle had just realized what had happened, and she knew this was the only moment she would ever catch him off-guard. Jackal had already kicked.

 

Grackle waved his arms, but still fell. One hand grasped the beam, keeping him in the game. Jackal quickly stomped on his knuckles, and the big pirate fell to the deck. Shocked and bewildered cheers rose from the crew. Already the drinks had appeared.

 

The loser looked up, his face dark, at the girl smirking over him. "Rough luck, lad," she said.

 

Captain Grent smirked secretively as the young pirate jumped from the beam and approached him. She pulled her game chips from her belt and held them before his face, still smirking. Grent laughed and quickly took them. "Well men, it appears we've all been outmatched by a girl."

 

"I'd take her again!" a voice pealed above similar challenges.

 

"She's earned this crew's respect. Bring out the drinks, boys! and Jackal sleeps in the cabin of honor tonight."

 

Another young pirate boosted Jackal onto his shoulder, and she was swept away in the direction of the party. Jackal twisted on the young man's shoulder to look back at the captain. "I want my pay, you buffoon!" she shouted.

 

"In the morning!" Grent bellowed back. He rubbed his chin and repeated to himself, "In the morning." By that time, the old captain reasoned, they might be able to convince her to become a permament asset to this ship.

 

 

Arms still shackled to the wall behind her, she rested her chin on her knees. Blood had dried on the right side of her face. Her lip was cracked. Her short, thick hair was matted. And she was hungry. The cabin had grown dark upon the ship's entering space, providing no way to keep track of time... and no way to know where she was going.

 

It was a long time before she noticed that same boy leaning against the doorframe again. A cryptic smile was etched in his dark face. When she only glared, he walked over and sat down nearby. "Hi."

 

She turned her face away.

 

"Aw, don't be like that. Things aren't as bad as you think."

 

Jackal grunted and searched her mind for any sarcastic thing she could say. It was the first time in her life that she didn't have a comeback.

 

"My name is Petris," said the boy.

 

She wished he would go away.

 

"Nothing to say, huh? Well, I'm not going to do anything to you, lass." He lifted something, but she refused to look. "Actually, I only came to clean that wound."

 

She shot him a warning look.

 

Petris shrugged. "Captain's orders. We can do it the hard way, or you can just let me get it over with. Everybody wins."

 

"Go away."

 

Petris moved quickly. He literally sat on her lap, making it impossible for her to kick as he wetted his wash rag. When she spat in his face, he acted just as if she hadn't. Little by little, the warm water ebbed at the dry blood on her face. She steeled herself and closed her eyes.

 

"All done," Petris said. He leaned back, wiped her spittle from his face, and quickly got off of her. Chaste as a priest, she thought sardonicly.

 

Petris took his bucket and walked back to the door. As it hissed open, he looked back for a moment. "Is your name Sarah?" he asked.

 

Jackal was determined not to speak to him, but she realized the expression in her eyes must have given the answer away. Petris looked a bit pitying as he walked out. "I heard a man calling for you before we left."

 

The door closed.

 

 

 

Jackal looked around at her accomodations only momentarily, and closed her weary eyes. She had been celebrating with the rest of the crew for... she didn't know how long. Like in the hours past, all she wanted was to get her money and get out. Unfortunately, Grent seemed to still have plans for her, and now she was too exhausted to do anything but wait until morning.

 

Jackal crawled into the unfamiliar bed and sighed. She would have to cook up a way to show Grent. She didn't like other clans' ships, anyway.

 

For that reason, she kept thinking of the prisoners held below. And Petris...

 

 

 

Petris returned later, once the ship had grown restful and still. He crept across the deck toward her, and she stirred to give him another icy glare. Petris inserted a metal key into her shackles, and the computer quietly released her.

 

Jackal sprang away. "Just what do you think you're doing!"

 

"Quiet," Petris said.

 

"You just stay there, boy!"

 

Petris aimed a gun at her. She fumed and knotted her fists.

 

"Listen, Sarah O'Malley. I'm trying to do you a favor." Petris drew himself to his full height. "During the battle six hours ago, your father saved my life."

 

Jackal scowled. "Why would he do that?"

 

"I don't know. Maybe because he's... good."

 

"Hah!" The word "good" was a joke as far as she was concerned.

 

"Please!" Petris motioned for quiet. "Do you want to wake the whole ship?"

 

Jackal folded her arms.

 

"Now, I feel I owe you something... or your father, anyway. I'm helping you escape. So will you cooperate or not?"

 

She gave him a long look. "Jackal."

 

"What?"

 

"Don't call me Sarah. It's Jackal."

 

"Alright, fine, whatever you say! Let's just please get out of here before we're caught."

 

Petris led her through the ship's belly, explaining in hurried whispers that those guarding her were on a break and would return within the hour. They ascended to the ship's deck. A starry universe sparkled above the dome covering it.

 

"This way."

 

They reached the bow. A hovercycle waited there, unoccupied.

 

"You'll be able to ride it straight through the dome, of course," Petris explained. "And an exosuit with a full tank of oxygen can be triggered by the left handlebar. The map in the console will show you where all the nearest planets are."

 

Jackal looked at the cycle, and glanced around deck. Her eyes returned to Petris's. "Go back to bed." When he seemed about to say something, she hissed, "Some one may already be awake. Go back before you're seen."

 

Petris patted her shoulder and quickly disappeared below deck.

 

Jackal smirked to herself and ran to the navigation bridge. She kicked the door open.

 

The captain had been updating his computer logue. As he bounded to his feet, Jackal took hold of the doorframe and extended both legs, choking him with her feet. She saw a gun lying on a nearby shelf and freed one hand to reach for it. The captain could not utter a cry. He fell to the deck, a hole still smoking over his heart.

 

Jackal dropped to her feet and smirked at him, proud of herself. She ran through the empty bridge and descended a staircase to the engine room.

 

 

A boom rocked the ship. Fire blew from either side as its engines whined and squealed. Company and crew awoke, panic setting in, as lights flashed in every room. People were pouring onto the deck as Jackal took a running leap at the cycle. She had just landed in the seat when a pair of arms looped around her, dragging her off.

 

Petris was on top of her. "What did you do?!" he screamed in her face. "Why?!"

 

"There's one cycle below that still works," Jackal said. "I suggest you take it!"

 

She brought her legs up and wrapped them around his head. With one forceful twist, she threw him off. Again she sprang onto the cycle. Her left hand went to the exo-trigger on the handlebar. Immediately, an armored suit snapped up her arm, around her torso, down her other limbs. A helmet appeared on her head, and she was breathing pure oxygen.

 

As the ship quailed, Petris leaped up to make another pouce at Jackal. Her cycle streaked forward, and he only hit the deck. The ship's dome rippled as she passed through.

 

Jackal made a wide arc in space, and looked back as another engine burst. Petris stood on the bow, looking after her. He made a very grim salute. She grinned and flew on.

 

 

 

He wants me to join the crew, Jackal realized as she lay in bed. That was why Grent had not paid her right away, and why she'd been invited to breakfast with him the next morning. He intended to continue using her services.

 

She sprang out of bed, no longer tired. Flinging on her jacket, boots, and holster, she stomped across the dark room straight for the door. Hall light flooded her vision, but she kept walking. She passed hatch after hatch like a wind-up doll with but one mission, to walk.

 

Jackal reached the two men guarding the prisoners, and stopped without warning. In the next few moments, she had shot them both dead. The paralyzing blasts did not even give them a chance to groan. A simple re-wiring job opened the hatch, and she peered in at the prisoners.

 

To her surprise, there was only one.

 

He was a very small boy, without even a tattoo to indicate his extent of education. His large blue eyes watched her with fear, and his mouth hung open dumbly.

 

"Why would anyone take you?" Jackal hissed. When he continued to stare, she snapped her fingers impatiently.

 

"F-for ransom. My father owns the line of ships... that you..."

 

The moment he sounded as if he would cry, Jackal advanced. She quickly shot the shackles over his arms and yanked him to his feet. "Come on."

 

They stepped into the light again, and Jackal didn't give the young prisoner time to gape at the dead guards. She scowled impatiently. He was so small that he could barely keep up with her. Finally, she knelt down and motioned for him to get on her back. He did so, forced to cling to her on his own as she ran toward the engine room.

 

Jackal passed the humming machinery, looking around sharply. She finally saw the weak spot she needed, and fired at it. The engine spat electricity from its wound, and Jackal immediately turned to run. Her muscular form allowed her to move with the boy on her back, for now.

 

The ship grumbled loudly, and then its entire being gave a jolt.

 

"Why are you doing this?" the boy wimpered.

 

"Because I feel like it!" Jackal snapped, while Petris's voice echoed in her mind. Because he's good.

 

The crew was clamoring about now, all too worried about what was going on to pay much attention to Jackal. Captain Grent was holding his pants up and barking orders to them all. When Jackal slipped away to the escape hatch, she found she was alone.

 

The boy slid from her back as she signaled. Jackal slapped an exo-trigger onto his wrist, and watched scrutinously as the armored space-suit enveloped him. He gave a surprised cry, obviously new to the sensation. Jackal put on her own, making sure it went around and not over her scabbard, and allowed him to climb onto her back again.

 

She hopped a hovercycle. "Hang on!"

 

It roared up the ramp and onto the deck, shooting through the dome, then into space. There, a laser to Jackal's armor sent her reeling. The hovercycle idled where it was as she flew off of it, attracted enough by the ship's gravity to bounce along the dome. The boy screamed as she rolled over him momentarily, but managed to hang on.

 

One of Grent's female crew members approached, her magnetic boots holding her to the dome. Her gun still smoked a bit. Her voice echoed within her helmet. "You did this!"

 

Jackal glared up at her, and climbed to her feet. "You're so deductive, Archaia."

 

Archaia was not amused. Her dark eyes traveled to the boy peering over Jackal's shoulder. "What do you want with him?"

 

"He's cute," Jackal snarled.

 

Archaia raised her gun. Jackal pushed off from the ship as her sword rang free. It barely deflected Archaia's blast, and she made a slash in her armor. The enemy pirate doubled over in hopes of stopping her oxygen drain.

 

"Finesse, kiddo. It's all about finesse."

 

As Archaia's armor worked to repair itself, Jackal bounced away, climbing back onto the hovercycle. No sooner had she and the boy roared off than she looked back to see Archaia had recovered already. She was pursuing on rocket boots.

 

Grent's ship gave another boom and sway. More pirates were giving chase on hovercycles.

 

"Slag it," Jackal said.

 

She wondered how far she could go before being caught--- what maneuvers she could pull in her outnumbered state. The boy drew close to her and wimpered. "Shut up," she snapped.

 

The ship behind them finally exploded. As oxygen flew off into eternity, the fire danced crazily and then was snuffed out. Jackal bent low, though there was no wind-resistance anyway, and raced on. The map on her console indicated that the nearest planet was hours away. She refused to look back at the angry pirates in pursuit.

 

Just then, Jackal noticed a new ship. It was of Neo Pirate design, but she did not recognize it or its name. It slowed and turned toward them. Laser cannons appeared.

 

"Duck, kid!" Jackal screamed as she sent the hovercycle into a spin.

 

Lasers roared and streaked past them. Coming to a stop directly under the ship, Jackal looked back to see the last of Grent's crew being blasted to sparks one-by-one. They didn't stand a chance against the big ship. As Jackal and the boy watched, they didn't notice the compartment sliding open behind them, nor the robotic claws.

 

They seized the hovercycle. Jackal gasped and tried to draw her sword again, but by then they had already been pulled in. The claws set them down and retracted.

 

Jackal looked around. A good part of the crew surrounded them with weapons drawn, but they all kept their distance. There was an apprehensive silence as Jackal surveyed them. She revved the cycle's engines, and it rose a foot or so. The crew shifted, on edge. Then a voice spoke.

 

"I thought that was you, Sarah."

 

She turned the bike around. Petris had stepped forward, smiling. He was older and a bit more muscled, but recognizable.

 

Jackal pointed at him. "This is your fault, you know."

 

Petris laughed, stepping forward to take the boy into his arms. "Welcome aboard the Jackal."

 

 

Feral Utterance

Edited September 23, 2003 by Jareena Faye

[Sorciere]

I really like this! This isn't my usual type of reading at all, but I could not stop once I started. In particular I found the to and froing of the story between past and present worked really well. It should make a great comic series, well done!

[Merelas]

WELL DONE!

 

This was quite new for me also... you get used to having arrows, rather than bullets (or lasers, in this case) but this was a very nice change! I agree completely with Sorciere.

 

Give us more!!

[Appy]

*Appy applauds* Like said before by Sorciere, I aswell couldn't stop reading once I began. Very nice done! Now I'm really in the mood for my hubby to finally start our Spelljammer campaign

 

*Encore!*