Sixteen.

“Did you figure it out?”

Selma nodded, looking up from a bunch of wires under the cockpit. “There's nothing wrong with the ship. We've been caught in a trap.”

Andromeda looked skeptical. “At our speed? How is that even possible?”

“It's a deceleration field. Space pirates set them up to catch fast-traveling ships. We're lucky theirs wasn't stronger, sometimes the crew doesn't survive the impact. Either way, they'll probably try to board us. Anyone here got fighting experience?”

They all looked around at each other. Fighting experience, sure, but going up against space pirates?

“Well,” concluded Andromeda, “We ain't gonna let them take us without a fight, are we? Maximus is a crack shot with a rifle, that gives us a chance. The fact that I've got a pistol and Selma's got a wrench isn't gonna hurt our cause.”

They waited. Little by little, they saw a shuttle approach, floating silently through space towards them. It seemed to come from some larger ship, but the shuttle itself wasn't terribly impressive. It could probably fit no more than three or four people.

“What if they just blow our hull open?”

“They wouldn't do that, not unless they're stupid.” Andromeda responded. “It's the ship they'll want to steal, and the repair costs wouldn't be worth it. No, they'll force their way in via the airlock.”

“Which is good for us, cause it's where I'll be aiming,” said Maximus, as he finished loading up the rifle, “Don't worry. Velma's never failed me before.”

“...who's Velma?”

“It's what he calls the gun.”

There was a noise from the airlock. Maximus took aim. “Everyone, prepare yourselves. If we're lucky, this will be over before it starts.”

The doors opened. He didn't fire.