Misty Blackout (bugged map with no lighting) +story

[Richard LeMoon]

It was a quiet evening. The first I had had in some time. Quiet enough that I could finally get some rest, lulled by the slow rocking of my Mobula beneath my bedroll and the soft hum of its monstrous mechanical workings. For once, they purred contently at a blissful idle instead of of screaming in pain amidst heated battle. As the last rays of the sun left the clouds over the cove and the sky began to darken, sleep took us both.

The sky was open before me, clear for what seemed like forever. I took a step off the bow of my ship, into the air, and just kept walking. Higher and higher I walked, then ran, then simply stretched my arms and flew. I smiled. "Cap".  My flight wobbled, then steadied. I frowned and looked around. The bright day did not reveal the source of the voice. Shrugging, I flew higher.... higher towards the sun. "Captain." The voice was more intense. My flight stopped. I could see storms forming on the horizons, but far off and no danger. I once again started to move in flight. "Bless the Icarus, get up Captain. There is a ship out there!" I fell.

My first mate held me by the shoulder, shaking it softly and whispering hoarsely. His face was shrouded in darkness. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. They did not. I sat up quickly and looked about. They only lights I saw were the dim occasional lanterns on the ship. Everything else was blackness.

"So it is to be a night battle... Very well. Roust the rest of the crew. Signal the other ship and prep our own. Un-crate the the Beacon in get it on the Widow's mount. We won't be needing the Hades there today."

He nodded and rushed off. I rubbed the ache out of my shoulder and found my way to the helm easily even in the pitch black. I had taken that path so many times that I could travel it in my sleep. I rested my hand on the glowing throttle as I listened to the beast under my feet slowly rumble to life. I looked out at the inky dark and clenched my jaw. There is not enough room for fear in the sky. The other ship signaled readiness, and I moved the throttle up.

It was time to fly.

[Bookkeepper]

The engines of my Junker were, for once, in good repair. They hummed quietly, running just one step above idle; the Junker is a slow ship, but I dare not move the throttle higher, because I cannot see in front of me. I can't see anything at all - everything I look is inky blackness.

There are enemy ships in the area, I know that much. The information was provided by one of more trustworthy contacts within the Guild, along with the weapons mounted for this flight. I'd heard of the Aten, of course, but the version that the Mercs export is purported to be underpowered; not the real deal. The ones I have now should be made to spec, but they are as of yet untested, and that uncertainty gnaws at me.

Suddenly, the gunner gives a yelp from the bow. The ship lurches and there is a terrible, grating noise.

"What happened?" asks the junior engineer.

"I think there is a building in front of us," I reply, humoring him. The darkness must be getting to him - hell, it's getting to me, making me nervous despite my many months behind the wheel.

Off the port bow, there is a flicker - no, a beam - a pencil-thin shaft of brightness, and in my addled state it takes a moment for me to understand its significance. The enemy has heard my error.

"Get on port guns!" I shout, throwing the engines to full reverse and slamming the wheel full over. The beam catches my balloon, sweeping past before correcting back. More beams appear, flickering and dancing madly as they hone in. It is a tense few moments as I bring the unfamiliar guns into arc. Still, the attack is quickly answered with two beams of our own. They easily trace the bright white shafts back to their origin, and the return fire finally illuminates the enemy: a Mobula.

I curse. They have the advantage, with their forward guns. But there's nothing to be done now; I'll have to make do with what I have. The fight, it seems, is on.