Crike

Crike cursed as the Remoras emerged from the fog, their Mantas shifting from sleek jets to agile wingsuits. Too busy admiring the Skywhale, a massive metal hulk floating out of the fog above them, Crike had always wondered what it was like to fly one of those, to soar through the skies without a care in the world. But now, they had to focus on keeping the Runagate alive.

The Remoras were not here to negotiate. They were raiders, who preyed on weaker ships and stole their loot. Crike counted six Mantas, each armed with a harpoon gun and a grappling hook. They swooped down on the Runagate, firing their harpoons at the ship's hull and rigging. Crike pulled the Runagate hard to starboard, trying to avoid the projectiles, but some of them hit their mark, tearing holes in the sails and embedding themselves in the wood. Crike heard the laughter of the nearest Remora, mocking their poor flying skills.

"Is that the best you can do?" she called out. "You're no match for the Remoras, queens of the sky!"

With gritted teeth, Crike reached for a nearby flare pistol. The Runagate had a few defenses but none conveniently near Crike. Their was a sonic cannon on either side of the Runagate, but up close like this, they were less than useless. Crike let off a flare, hoping to blind the Remora, but the raider easily avoided it. The Runagate reeled as Crike fired again. 

"Damn it, this thing is useless!" Crike muttered, trying to stabilize the ship.

Crike looked around, hoping to see some sign of help from the crew. The Runagate had a dozen people on board, but most of them were busy fighting off the Remoras as they boarded the ship. Crike saw flashes of gunfire and blades, heard screams and shouts, smelled blood and smoke. The Remoras had used their grappling hooks to latch onto the ship. They were ruthless and brutal, bringing down anyone who got in their way.

The only one who seemed to have any luck against them was Harlaan. The veteran sky sailor had served in the navy before joining the Runagate, and now, armed with a peevee pole, he was slashing at the two nearest Remoras from his nest in the rigging. Their Mantas were fast, but cumbersome up close, even transformed into body armor, and they had trouble dealing with Harlaan's speed and skill. Crike watched him leap from the rigging onto one of the Mantas hooking the other with the peevee pole,causing them to collide. The Mantas spiraled down, missing the deck completely, crashing into the swirl, as Harlaan used the pole again, this time connecting with the side of the Runagate, saving himself from a similar fate.

"Way to go, Harlaan!" Crike cheered, watching the scene and pulling the Runagate hard to port.

Joy short-lived, Crike noticed something else. A small group of figures, suited up in green Manta armor, approaching the ship from below. They had used the cover of the fog and the noise of the battle to avoid detection. Crike recognized their colors as the Cloak, a rival sky gang. Apparently they had a different goal than the Remoras. They were not after the ship's cargo, but something more valuable. They were after the ship's core, the heart of the Runagate, the source of its power and life.

"Harlaan, we have a problem!" Crike shouted over the melee. "The Cloak are on the hull! If they're settings charges to blast their way in, they'll blow the core and kill us all!"