None had thrust plumes or contrails, but each retained a stately beauty about them. There were flat topped ships that cut forward through space, pushe... forward by immense columns of propellers that ground and spun behind them. Svenk didn’t know how propellers worked in space, but he figured that the spelljammers had something to do with it. There were narrow ships that were studded with turrets, cylindrical ones that bore only a single sparse looking conning tower, but still cruised forward. Time slowed down, seconds felt like minutes and he saw it all, he saw her face, the reflection of the trucks headlights in her eyes, the way the light bathing her skin was too bright to be normal, he saw her fear and the scream that was forming on her lips, yet to be voiced. And in that second, he’d jumped for her. For some stupid, unnameable reason, he’d leapt forward as if he could protect her from whatever it was that was coming. He covered her body with his own, let his arms snatch her. More

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