Skid X Pump Ship Novels & Stories

One, the twin of the missing machine, and the other, an older, battered beast, now relegated to mundane outings like towing firewood or propane tanks in its attached sled. Scott walked the newer skidoo out of the shed, quickly sliding the door closed behind him. He slid the machine onto the frozen lake and took one more look toward the lodge. Jackie was still standing where he left her, her face pressed against the glass in an effort to see him through the swirling mess.

" No one had time to reply before a thunderclap split the air. The ship bucked violently. Alarms wailed. "EMP charge just detonated above us!" Ethan yelled. "We're losing all non-hardened systems!" Lights flickered. The skimmer dropped precipitously as backup power took over. Christopher slammed the emergency panel. "Prep for crash landing?" "More like forced landing," Ethan snarled. "Buckle up!" The trees loomed up. They hit the ground in a shower of flame and smoke, the skimmer careening off snow and ground before slamming to a halt against the jagged foot of a ridge. Sparks flew. Metal screamed.

Within minutes, the shoreline of the obsidian sand was choked with a shifting, crackling mass of miniature paper cutters, galleons, and brigs, their paper sails rustling in the morning air like the sound of an immense library being hurried through by a frantic reader. Xander stood knee-deep in the black ink, his boots submerged in the paper fleet. He reached down and scooped up a dozen of the tiny vessels in his blistered palm. The raw, burned skin where he had held the Adjuster’s standardization iron was already cooling, coated in a protective crust of white chalk dust and dried carbon.

"Tell the captain to launch right now! Cut the mooring lines!" The gruff smuggler did not wait for a second invitation. He drew a heavy machete and violently slashed the thick rope lines securing the ship to the ruined pier. The massive diesel engines of the ancient freighter roared to life deep within the hull, vibrating the steel deck plates beneath their feet.

"Good to know we're not alone. If we encounter more daggers, or gods forbid, more powerful ones we may need to look to these imperium guys." "Well, whatever they may be, they sure have a strange obsession with skulls. They're just about everywhere on those ships, from doors to consoles." "Lets hope that is the strangest thing about them." He said as he turned to the DRADIS station. "Operator, any movement out there ?"

I moved a little closer, but I was enjoying having the ability to think again so I didn't move all the way to the counter as well. "Got another ship for you. This one is a bit more special. An old Sk-28, in good condition, well maintained but we've had to pull a few parts out." "Running?" "Will be once the parts are replaced. I've got a list." As Icaan reached forward he scanned his wrist on something and the document appeared on the counter. The man on the other side looked through it but whistled when he got to the main part Icaan had pulled out.

Jack steered the pod past, picking up speed as he went. A huge ship appeared in front of them. Darts came and went. Jack pushed by, dipping underneath away from their turrets. More large ships appeared and finally one of theirs. The little pods looked like grapes on the side of the ship. The ship sent missiles out. Jack pushed the pod faster. He wasn't about to get caught in an explosion.

“Outboard.” Jack motioned: a silent four-count. They flowed to the lip. Below, the culvert widened into a tide pool where two skiffs sat half in, half out. One was empty. The other—a matte-black Zodiac—held a tactical crate and a folded tarp. Water lapped. A faint wake tugged at the rubber keel. “Just missed them,” Bruno whispered.

The Battle of the Mid-Atlantic Jade burst onto the deck. The sky was a bruised purple, and the ocean was churning with unnatural, bioluminescent foam. Three "Skitter-Craft"—low-profile pirate boats—were circling the Acheron, firing harpoons made of conductive copper wire. The wires hissed as they hit the ship’s deck, siphoning the Acheron’s power and feeding it back into the pirate’s own "Hate-Cores." "They're draining us!" Aris screamed from the bridge. "In two minutes, the shield goes down and they’ll board!"