Bolting out from behind the asteroid, the Rusty Bolt fired its engines up to maximum burn. Its patched-up hull answered with a groaning protest. The hyperspace sensors shrieked to life. Their target, a Xylar freighter, was invisible in 3D space, but they had picked it up easily.
„Game is on!“ Red Rodriguez barked at the command console and to no one in particular, her voice laced with adrenaline and a hint of manic glee. Besides her, Twitch was piloting the ship with precision and speed, his fingers dancing across the controls in a blur of nervous energy while he was muttering a torrent of calculations and navigation details under his breath. This was his world and he was immersed in it entirely, nearly ignoring Captain Red. The Rusty Bolt jolted violently as the lateral accelerators kicked in and pushed it the final way out, into the clear.
A half deck below them, at the engineering station, Grubs was wrestling with the ship’s ancient systems. Sparks flew from his cybernetic arm as he jury-rigged a failing power conduit. The Rusty Bolt had seen better days and a full burn was stressing it to its limits, with all the repairs and patchwork straining under the g-forces. A symphony of mechanical groans, the whirring of Grubs' cybernetics, and the rhythmic thrum of the engines accompanied the acceleration that stolen alien dampers could only partially compensate.
But even though it looked nothing like the sleek ships of most alien races, the Rusty Bolt was fast and maneuverable. A marvel of salvaged technology and human ingenuity, and thanks to its small size, a single hyperdrive engine could enclose it in a warp bubble that would keep up with most freighters and civilian ships in the galaxy. Though only for a short time.
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„Damn space whale is in a hurry!“, Red snapped as the sensors locked on, „Dang she’s fast!“
Twitch picked up the target info without a word, but his eyebrows raised that small bit that showed his surprise. He quickly adjusted the course of the ship, and a whiff of burnt engine oil and ozone was added to the otherwise stale and metallic smell inside the Rusty Bolt. The engines were running at maximum power, and were holding together by whatever Grubs had patched them up with after the last run.
Red’s eyes were glued to the command console while she gritted her teeth. She had spent days planning this heist. But the Xylar freighter was burning through space in its warp bubble and there was no time for regrets.
„C-Factor 27“, Red shouted at Twitch for no reason as he had the same reading on his screen the same moment, „What’s their cargo that they’re bubbling like that?“
Twitch was adjusting the intercept course. He was mumbling conversation factors now. C-27 meant over seven hundred times the speed of light. They had expected the freighter to travel somewhere around 20, at four hundred c.
Red pointed to the holographic display of the solar system: „We need to slingshot around that gas giant. Set us up.“
A bead of sweat trickled down Twitch’s temple, caused by both the overheating engines and the risk of the maneuver. „Got it, captain. If the engine doesn’t fall apart halfway through, we’ll catch her.“
„Today’s a lucky day, we got this.“ Red retorted, a steely glint in her eye. „Grubs! Make those engines work, we need to get warp-ready right now!“