Vatra scowled. The fast-approaching water had proved to be an unexpected obstacle. She edged the nose of the ship dangerously close to the ferocious whitecaps. An alarm blared in defiance throughout the cockpit.

"PULL UP. PULL UP." The voice repeated monotonously until Vatra slammed her fist onto the control panel. With a sputter, the alarm stopped.

"I do not think it was saying that as a suggestion," the man beside Vatra warned. He was leaning forward against the restraints holding him in his seat; pale skin even whiter as he watched the ocean approach with his brown, doey-eyes.

Gritting her teeth, Vatra tested the pull of the controls. "Don't patronize me, Spyro. I've done this a thousand times."

A streaking light of yellow passed by the window to the far right, and Spyro flinched away from the blast. The attack had missed, barely, but still sent the ship rocking. Its trail of fire followed into the dark depths of the sea below. Another blast crossed their path directly. It would have smashed against the hull, but instead broke across a shimmering mirage of white light surrounding their vessel.

"The shields are down to thirty-percent," Spyro said with a tap to the control panel. "We cannot take much more of their attacks."

"I know," Vatra growled. She tipped the controls further, diving down to a large wave that towered nearly twenty stories above the ocean. Like a beast emerging hungrily from the depths, the wave clawed at the metal of their ship.

Spyro reached out with one arm and gripped the edges of the control panel. He braced against his seat with the other hand. Though not very muscular in build, Spyro looked like he could have snapped the control panel in two. Veins popped against his forearms. 

"I do not think I have to point out that we are heading directly for that wave," Spyro stated.

"Nope," Vatra said. The corner of her mouth twitched upward as she threw the ship into a complete nosedive, nearly inverting the vessel. She couldn't quell the flip in her stomach from the out-of-ordinary style of travel.

The ship caressed the edge of the wave, skimming along its surface right before dipping down over the cap. Vatra carefully guided the ship along the wave, hovering just between the line of being caught in the ocean's pull, and maintaining full control. The ship was now protected from attacks by the arc of the wave towering high above them.

Through the glass extending around the entirety of the cockpit, Vatra could see nearly all around them. She caught the sight of a ship barreling through the wave, spinning out of control to the ocean below. The water planet of Doatis was particularly hungry.

"There is one more enemy ship behind us," Spyro said. He watched the wreckage floating on the surface with an unblinking gaze. A muscle on his squared jawline twitched, almost in a sign of irritation. "I am not sure that trick will work again."

"I didn't count on it." Vatra turned hard to the right, riding the wave down. She gripped the controls and focused with every bit of muscle to not send them into a watery grave. Drowning wasn't her favorite way to die.

She turned her head slightly, watching the last remaining ship mimicking their path, though further away from the wave. It was the first opportunity she had to get a good look at the pirates that had started firing on them when they ventured into the Grey Belt.

Their gambol was only supposed to be a short-cut. How apt the term for the quick travel across galaxies sounded for the situation they'd found themselves in. It was how the term had been coined, anyway. Someone hundreds of years ago had taken a gamble on the engine they'd created for faster space travel.

"Ah, shit," Vatra groaned.

Spyro looked at her, thick eyebrows knitted tightly together. "I assume you know who these lawless bandits are."

"Unfortunately." Vatra stared with contempt at the silhouette of a vessel designed to look like a Ford Deluxe convertible. Its gaudy pink and white paint job was ruined even more with the topless image of a pin-up woman. She was posed with a surprised expression, her head near the nose of the ship.

"If you know them, why do they fire on us?"

Vatra pulled her gaze from the ship and looked at Spyro incredulously. "Not everyone we know are our friends, Spyro. After all these centuries together, I'd think you would have learned that by now."

"That is true," Spyro said. He looked down in a clear moment of reflection before cutting his eyes to the glass.

The spray of water surrounded them; a mist from the blast of the ship's engines. Water droplets skirted the panes before flying off to join the approaching wave. The cap of the wave had lowered significantly and shadowed over their vessel.

"Well, it's not in me to fire on a ship that's not attacking us anymore," Vatra commented. "Most of those were warning shots."

"Maybe they wish to speak with us," Spyro offered.

"It's not like they've tried to make contact yet, though," Vatra said with a frown. The pirates had already drained most of their shields, and unless they were going to reimburse her for the credits she would have to spend, there wasn't a lot that a conversation would offer.

Clearing his throat, Spyro pointed to a blinking, red light on the console. "You have been jamming incoming signals since we gambolled."

"Oh, right," Vatra sheepishly said. "I just hate listening to the dozens of distress signals the Grey Belt brings."

"Yes, because listening to the calls for help is so awful."

"Is that sarcasm?" Vatra asked. She pulled the ship further from the wave, leading them from the danger of being swallowed by its imminent approach.

Slightly cocking his head to the side, Spyro blinked a few times before nodding. "Yes, I do suppose it was. I think I have finally started to master this 'sarcasm'."

"It took you long enough," Vatra muttered.

Their vessel slowed down, and the pirates followed suit. As if partaking in a dance, the two ships encircled one another. 

Vatra's ship transformed into an intimidating adversary. With the sudden change in speed, the outer panels had flipped out, constantly flickering with each minor adjustment. They were much like a viper's scales, flashing. The two manual engines tucked beneath the wings burned less and less ferociously the longer they maintained a steady position.

Both ships hovered above the angry waters.

Reaching forward, Vatra pressed a black nail to the button that was blinking red. Immediately, an onslaught of music echoed through the ship.

She pulled her hand away from the button hastily.

"Is that... Elvis Presley?" Spyro questioned. He stared up at the speakers thoughtfully. "Remember when we watched him perform live?"

"It's like I'm reliving it now," Vatra said with a tight frown. She contemplated shutting the communications down once more, but reluctantly decided against it. If anything, she was going to give the pirates a piece of her mind for firing without provocation.

After all, they'd travelled through the Grey Belt a thousand times before with no issue.

"This is the Agkistrodon. I demand you shut off whatever the hell kind of scrambler that is and answer before we decide to fire on your ass." Vatra projected her voice toward the small speaker on the panel in front of her.

The music stopped instantly.

"All right, all right, you don't have to be so snappy about it." A masculine voice, deep and baritone, replied. "We decided to play some tunes since that's all we heard from your end."

Vatra glanced with a raised brow to Spyro. She muted the communications and leaned toward her companion. "Is that song I jokingly uploaded onto the drive still our jamming signal?"

The man beside her gave a sharp nod of his head. "You said it was the same song you spent hours trying to perfectly record to play as your ringtone. When cellular devices were still used, that is."

"The Agkistrodon is supposed to be a feared ship belonging to heartless mercenaries," Vatra pointed to herself, "and you're telling me our jamming signal is "Shoop" by Salt 'N' Pepa?"

"I always liked the beat," Spyro said. His usual expression, which lacked anything but the appearance of pure boredom, actually brightened at the mention of the song.

Embarrassment made Vatra's face feel like it was on fire. She sunk down into the chair, wishing its grey leather would've swallowed her whole. Death didn't sound like such a bad alternative. It wasn't like she hadn't experienced it dozens of times before.

A/N: Here's the first peek at the new story! I just wanted to post it up to see if it's even something people will be interested. I'm kind of excited for it!