![]() ![]() Proceeding at full alert, the Antares prepared for the worst – that is, the probability that the lost starbase had been attacked and destroyed by Corsairs… space pirates who dominate the space lanes and whose bloody choke-hold on interstellar trade overshadowed the last 100 years of Human history. Rescue takes place, but at a price – taking into consideration Mykl d’Angelo’s past service in the Fleet – and his not insignificant knowledge and experience of Corsairs, he quickly finds himself re-activated in an advisory capacity. In the meantime, as though in answer to d’Angelo’s pleas, a starship of the Imperial Space Fleet had been dispatched to investigate the mysterious silence of a remote starbase nearby. Marooned alone in deep space, Mykl d’Angelo counted his blessings, offered prayers to any gods who specialized in miracles, and prepared to await (A) seemingly unlikely rescue, or (B) a lingering death. To add insult to injury, Mykl’s two remaining crewmen were killed in the explosion. As if that weren’t bad enough, just a few hours later, the rickety old ship literally lost its stardrive in the middle of the middle of nowhere. ![]() ![]() Due a minor misunderstanding, his crew had stolen the “Short Shit” – the ship’s only shuttle, leaving him and two others behind to crew the ailing (and now understaffed) loderunner on their own. Mykl d’Angelo, skipper and owner of the loderunner Pegasus, had fallen on hard times – and he’d just had the worst day of his life in that field. ![]()
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