All eyes on the Finite State Machine’s bridge were on the main screen, navigation and tactical stations having handed control to automated systems. No human crew could have held the ship stable in its current, precariously nose-down state.

“Captain, firing window approaching in ten seconds, lasting thirteen.”

“Weapons, heat Railgun Three.”

“Upper fore railgun at operational capacity, Captain. Target lock is stable.”

“Frangible round only. Two-thirds charge and ten metres clearance.”

“Firing solution locked.”

The warning shot roared through the air, rippling shock fronts throwing the little tender to and fro. The huge cruiser tipped back into a compensating nose-up position, drive flame vivid against dark baffles.

“Navigation, time to next firing window. Comms, hail them again.”

“Drives are on full atmospheric burn, Captain. Last window ended early. Six seconds.”

“Necrogorgon tender, this is your last warning. Surrender or you will be boarded. Resist and you will be fired upon.”