Boxed in

[Shalin 0]

"Is that the last of it?" Shalin looked to the loading crew iritably. He was back to doing grocery runs; a minor matter which - due to Starfleet preparation - was completely unnecessary. Command thought otherwise, however: something to do with keeping up appearances.

 

"Tha's all y'll be needen, mon." The raggedy loader smiled broadly; it was hard not to like him, even though he moved slower than syrup in winter. "Havin' a banquet dere, or have y'got y'self a fat boss?"

 

"Can't say ..." Shalin smirked back. "... he might be listenin'." The loader laughed heartily and waved as Shan closed the shuttle doors and gunned the engines. He had made five runs so far: finish this one and he'd be off the clock. He needed a shower and some sleep if he was going to be alert when called. This was foremost on his mind as he guided the shuttle in a slow spiral, which was probably why he didn't see the fighters at first. The shuttle's sensors pinged a brief warning before the fighters sent phaser bursts. An obviously altered message blared over the ship's com: "Land and prepare to be boarded."

 

"Like hack I will ..." Shan pitched downward and rolled the shuttle into a spiralling dive, looking to T'tooine's structures for cover. While there wasn't much, any distraction would be a good one. It was, however, something of an error: Shan was used to spaceports being more built upwards - T'tooine strutures tended towards the flat. It was an easy thing for the fighters to fire phasers in steady bursts above him, pushing him lower and lower. A new tactic was needed, and needed fast.

 

With nothing else to lose, Shan pulled the shuttle upwards suddenly - the fighter's phaser blasts scorching the port wing and punching a neat hole in the starboard. This didn't bother him, though - he didn't have any plans for the wings anyway, and he could handle the turbulence it caused. Gunning the engines, he drilled the shuttle vertically at full throttle. This quickly brought him out into the relative freedom of open space. With that he headed for a 'belt'; an orbiting scrapyard common to most mid-ranged colonies, and this was no exception. While not completely clogged, the belt was hazardous enough to get the fighters to slow, which was all the clearance Shan needed.

 

Luring them to the far side of the belt, he spun the shuttle about and gunned it for the drydock he called 'home'. Designed as they were for pursuit, the fighters lacked the tight turn radius needed to effectively pursue the little shuttle before it shifted sideways, skittering between the drydock 'ribs' to coast over the 'Imperious'. He was within the cover of his parent ship ... he was safe.

 

A sudden deceleration, turn, and a finishing landing that was sure to leave a mark on the deckplate brought Shan home. With the hangar door closed and the chamber pressurized Shan stepped out of the shuttle casually, looking to his right to face the stares of the deck crews who would be assigned to repairing the damage to the shuttle. "I'm not sure either ... something about a girl named 'Patrishya', an angry family, and a father with a shotgun. The rest is kind of a blur." Shan exited the hangar and leaned back on the bulkhead wall.

 

Sleep ... then shower.