Corpse: Small Worlds Chapter Twenty Three
- Small Worlds
- Chapter Twenty-Three
Vaniah was enjoying a quick nap when the cabin suddenly shook. He saw Visstor smack his claw to his face, and heard a muffled curse from Werther.
"They've found us, eh?" he asked.
"Well, damn. What kind of models are we talking, Werther?"
"As far as I can tell, they're the V04-777 units," she muttered, "known as such for their 'luck.'"
"They almost never miss a shot, they can move at 20% the speed of light, and they can take five times as much damage as most ships. The space station is following them, too."
Vaniah thought for a while, before he looked out the window and saw an particularly empty spot. "Werther, head for that black hole over there."
"ARE YOU INSSSANE?!" Visstor shouted out. Werther, however, was seriously contemplating it, before piping up, "Ah. Makes sense."
The Wooster blasted straight towards the black hole, zooming through the voids.
Noonjack, meanwhile, laughed, despite having to keep his hand on his head to stifle the bleeding.
"So, looks like our job won't be so hard after all. Simply wait for them to go in there, and *plink.* Vaniah's gone."
Captain Holt rolled his eyes. "It could be a wormhole, you know. He might just disappear."
"So what? We've got him right—"
The blip on their radar, signaling the Wooster, noted a sudden burst of speed.
"Gah! Quick, men, full speed!" Holt shouted.
Noonjack was somewhat put off by this. "Holt, I ain't captain, and—"
"DAMN RIGHT YOU AREN'T! Wait, why did they stop going so fast? And, um, why did they drop off the screen, along with our fighters?"
"AND I ONLY GOT A B+ IN RELATIVITY THEORY, WHICH I'M SURE YOU DID A MUCH BETTER JOB IN...
"Oh... relativity theory... er, how much is this thing capable of?"
"80% the speed of light... Cadet. Perhaps Captain
Noonjack could explain what that means, since he is clearly much smarter than you." Zeke commented through gritted teeth, standing at the entrance.