From: jpg@bnr.co.uk (Jonathan P. Gibbons)
Newsgroups: alt.prose
Subject: battle clip 3
Date: 30 Jul 92 09:29:29 GMT
Distribution: alt
Organization: BNR Europe Ltd, London Rd, Harlow, Essex, CM19 9NA, U.K.

this is the 3rd of 7, the rest can wait
Jonathan
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Fire roared within hold number six.   Two shield units had overloaded as
a power surge ripped through the systems.  One unit was a shouldering ruin
and the other had literally exploded, showering engineers and scanning systems
with molten metal and other debris.  On top of this the valve system that was
supposed to jettison the air into vacuum was broken somewhere.  

All that could be done was to leave the baulkhead closed and hope it went
out.  No crew were available for active fire control.  All ships system
were dedicated to hounding the fleeing enemy into the ground.  

The fire continued unabated, oxygen burning but not running out.  On deck
twelve a smoke detector winked on, but didn't show on the master board as
the control lead had been severed by a piece of shrapnel.  In one of the
nearby store rooms the airconditioning grill rattled as air whistled into the
duct, following the dark tunnel to a rend where the jettison system had also 
been smashed.  Here the air shrieked as it shot past the torn edges of the 
piping and flowed down to hold six.

The crew on the bridge had all but forgotten the fire.  They had found the
enemies trail again.  Null sign off the starboard bow.  The ship manouvred
to the signal, coming upon the cripped vessel that had vainly tried to escape.
Weapons were powered and a final killing salvo was fired.  The enemy did
the same and Null missiles flowed between the ships.  The enemy blossomed
briefly before its Null envelope warped forever into Null space and their ship
imploded silently.  And then their missiles hit.  Just enough to break through
the shields and to vaporise another section of hull.  

As the hull crumpled the bulkhead holding the fire at bay was rent, the heat
and flame poured out.  Men bearly  had time to realise their doom was upon 
them before they became flaming torches.  The delicate disruptor control 
systems burnt as the heat exploded over them.  Other systems caught, a door
left open allowed the destruction to continue, more scanners destroyed, mine
racks melting, thier mines unused.

The bridge crew stared in disbelief as the damage escallated.  Damage control
officers rushed to ensure all bulkheads secured and then activated the 
atmospheric jettison for the whole section.  This time it worked.  The few
remaining men in the compartment rushed towards the safety chambers as their
air was sucked from them and from the flame.  Afew made it in time but others
were not as fortunate. 

The flame quickly gutted and went out.  White hot metal glowed madly in the 
emergency lighting, afew systems continued to die in the aftermath of the 
inferno and then silence an dead cold descended.  Eventually space suit clad 
figures entered to inspect the damage and on their signal the section was 
re-pressuring.  The lucky ones came out from the safety chambers while the
others were given burial in space - their honour and the honour of the battle
group satisfied.


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  With fearsome eyes and fiery breath the dragon burnt the girl to death
                    -- from "Too Late Saint George"
Newsgroups: alt.prose