“So the Imperial Guard Captain is marching his troops past the Empress in his Kilt, you see, and he stops at parade rest for her inspection. ‘Ah, Captain,’ she says, ‘all these years you’ve been in my service I’ve heard rumors about the Erestan Highlanders. Tell me, is it true nothing is worn under your Kilt?’ Without thinking, the Captain replies, ‘Nay, mam, truth be told tis worn, but still servicable.’”

Captain Mackee paused, straightening his Marskeg Union officers jacket for effect.

The crewmen burst out laughing. All except Ablehand Michael, who swallowed nervously.

“Here Devlin, take this.” said Mackee, unsnapping his Union issue Snub Revolver from his belt. “It’ll bring you luck. It has me, and I’ve repelled Pirates many a time before this…”

Turning to the assembled Mates and Hands he spoke, “Now, men. Take your positions. We know they’re breaching the hold from above anyti..”

The Captain’s words were cut short as the pretty green laser beam slashed his throat from ear to ear, almost severing his head in the process.

“Dive for cover, Dev!” shouted the Chief Engineer, the last words Devlin remembered clearly.

After that, all he could recall was the “thump! thump!” of his doubletapped high explosive rounds as Pirates and crew fell to the hail of fire crisscrossing the cargo hold…