"Shit," he said, unlocking the pressure seals on the side of his helmet. Shaking off the beads of sweat out of his hair, he pressed the airlock release. The ship was still at higher pressure than the airlock, and he felt a breeze as the doors whooshed open.

	The slightly stale odor of recycled air hit his nose and he took a deep breath. No matter what, he though, this still smells better than the inside of a suit.

He buzzed the ship-wide intercom. "Crew of the Presage, this is Captain Cornwall speaking. We have completed the inspection, are are prepared to head out post-haste."

 On his hip, his personal com vibrated, and he hit the ring activating the throat mike used in the suit. "Captain Speaking."
"Welcome aboard Cap'in,' the melodious notes of his XO's voice issued from the speakers in the  helmet under his arm. "I just got a page from Frank down in the forward hold, all of the cargo is secure as of.... five segs ago. Just waiting for the green light from Control and we can blow this rice-stand."

"I copy that, Anne. Have Jason warm up the engines, and I want us on our way within ten segs. They're not paying us to wait around, and I'm not paying you guys for that either."

"Right, sir. By the way, ever gonna tell me where this cargo is headed? Alice is getting a bit antsy, as there is no way Mantis V is gonna need that many cases of "Heavy Farm Equipment." The bright sound of Anne's laugh echoed strangely in the helmet, causing Cornwall to let a chuckle of his own out.

 "Why, you wound me. Everything here is on the up and up. That's certainly heavy equipment, and it'll certainly be used for farming. What exactly it'll be farming I'm not at liberty to say, but I do know that once we get it delivered our harvest will be pretty good."

Cornwall started fumbling for his first gauntlet catch, just as the world turned red. "Captain, we have word from Control that there are 20 Alpha signatures inside sensor range. Beacons and hull signatures are not-registerin--' The XO cut herself off, ' Jason says two segs till impulse drives are on-line. Do we stay or run?"

"We can't hope to fight anything, not here. Have Jason put us on full burn as soon as those engines are ready. Sooner! Have everyone brace for impacts. Try and figure out what they are, and send control our prayers."

	Cornwall took one last breath of ship's air and slammed the helmet back into its catches, the maglock sealing with a sharp hiss. The helmet sealed blocked out the sounds of the room, the red light casting a strange pall on the bulkheads of the airlock's antechamber. Through his boots, he could feel the faint vibrations of the impulse engines coming to power, a full 30 decisegs ahead of schedule. The ship started to move, then lurched violently. Shit, the port was still clamped on. "Anne, why are we still attached to this hunk of space scrap?"

"I can't blow the hatch, Cap'n! Control has locked it down. I'm gonna get it off, but it's not going to be pretty. Get away from the door."

 "Anne, the compartment is still pressurized, work on getting the fore magclamps off first." Cornwall turned back to the airlock, looking for the control panel. "I'll try to get this hold depressurized in the mean time."

Reaching for the controls, he pulled up the Hull schematics, and engaged the lock-down on his section of the ship. All the airlock doors slammed shut, and the hull pumps engaged, sucking air from the boarding compartment with a slow woosh.

"Captain fore and aft maglocks dis--"
The compartment was silent, save from the hiss of static, but through the hull, Cornwall felt the ship shudder.

Another shudder, then a lurch. and the corners of Cornwall's vision seemed to bend. He moved towards the interior of the ship, but as he lifted his magnetically-clamped boots it became clear that it wasn't his vision to blame. The corners of the hull cracked open, and a tear raced through the compartment, splitting it jaggedly in two

Chapter 1
... TBC?