15 March 2287
Twenty hours. Less than a day remained before the Arcanegos would emerge from displacement over Johtan. Twenty hours with the security chief gone rogue and in control of virtually everything.
At least Sierra hasn’t figured out how to override the maintainence hatches and vent us to space. Captain Freeman scowled at the thought. Seven years captaining the most prestigeous liner in the known galaxy, and it was going down the tubes. _Damn those terrorists!
And damn those Protectorate fools!_ Four agents of the Protectorate, a civilian emergency services agency, were aboard the Arcanegos to try and stop the onslaught. So far, however, they’d done more damage to the ship than the enemy. Still, it was better than nothing. Maybe.
Captain Dyson looked at his chrono again. Nineteen hours, fifty-five. Blast.
- Who is this replacement Sierra?
- Apparently, she is Shayla, the Terradyne rep.
- Why is she taking down the ship?
- What do the terrorists gain from sacking the ship?