To Sail On Solar Storms. A Star Raven Saga

Gracie was pissed.

Highly pissed. Even so , she laughed.

Better to be pissed off than to be pissed on. Gracie was the one about to do the pissing.

She wasn’t going to be pissing vinegar. Oh no, she had moved right up to pissing fire.

Hell fire was about to rain down on this ” transport ” crew. These worthless goat whores were about to burn and beg.

Her assault team had rigged the breeching charge. Having made sure that the cargo was safely locked down in the cargo modules. Gracie had stationed the assault craft to secure the modules.

The Transport bridge and mess hall/rec hall were the target. Gracie gave the order to prepare for breech, ” Make damn sure your sensor rigs are recording. On 3, 2, Go!”

Breeching charges fired. The burned sections blew out, away from the breeching holes. Near hurricane force flows of escaping atmosphere from three assaults sprayed out. The armored assault teams entered rapidly.

Normally, such operations were done with great care to minimize damage and loss of life. Not this time. This was a corporate employee transport. A slaver. None of the transportees were there voluntarily. The Raiders took great care to protect the transportees. The crew, not so much.

The breeching teams dropped in , the crew was scrambling for pressure suits or to evacuate the bridge. All were unceremoniously efficiently cut down. The First mate, was stripped naked and shoved through the still hot breeching hole. Spaced Naked. Gracie made sure that a clear close up of the mates face was recorded as she shoved him through the hole. One of the team had secured the interior hatch, wedging it open.

They wanted to vent the atmosphere. The raiders were boarding to make sure none of the crew survived and each execution was recorded. There was no mercy for slavers. Fifteen raiders, eradicated the crew of Forty in very short order. All hatches were blown. The transport left open to space, exposed to vacuum.

All of this was done in under ten minutes. All the cargo modules secured and ejected for retrieval. Six hundred men and women had been rescued.

Gracie personally reprogrammed the auto pilot. The transport was set for full sails, and maximum burn , to be used as a message. A message for Earth. If the planers didn’t destroy the transport first, the transport should hit O’Neil station Five. Impacting at around seventy thousand KPH and still accelerating in a day and a half.

That should keep them distracted.

Next, would be the snatch and grab on Cruithne. Commander Carranza’s wife and daughter being the principles. Plus Any they could convince to join them in escaping the Blackhawk corporate shackles.

supplies dropped at remote locations , left for those in need.

Six months of preparation for this. The grand hooah, now fully underway.