by GARY DARBY
Dason flipped the ship on its side and in unison with the other Zephyrs made a screaming turn before aligning the craft’s nose straight at the battle that raged in the far distance.
Streams of scarlet and orange laser bolts flashed in intertwining patterns against the starry backdrop. Every few seconds, an explosion of crimson would rip the darkness as one of the bolts found its target.
As if it were a sparrow hawk sparring against three eagles, the Intrepid wove and spun in an erratic dance trying to avoid the concentrated fire of its attackers.
The more agile Intrepid and its gunners seemed to be finding their target more often than not, though it was evident that the craft was taking a pounding from the battleships’ heavier firepower.
Rosberg’s voice boomed over the transmitter, “Lock your firing points on the nearest enemy craft.” He waited and then commanded, “ . . . and . . . fire!”
Alena punched the fire control stud. The little ship bucked once, twice as two torpedoes flashed straightaway at the rampaging dreadnoughts.
Ten fiery streams of hot exhaust etched the darkness, each torpedo headed straight toward the closest warship.
“We’ve got a lock!” Alena exclaimed. “Our torps are running hot and true to target!”
Rosberg’s strong voice broke Dason’s concentration on the rocketing torpedoes. “Ship commanders, break off, engage, and fire at will. Good hunting and Scouts Out!”
Just then, ten thunderous explosions rocked the nearby dreadnought. Smoke, fire, and debris erupted from its side leaving a giant, gaping hole.
“That hurt’em!” Alena declared in a loud voice.
“Okay,” Dason replied in a tense voice, turning his eyes away from the riveting battle scene to his pilot board.
“Here we go, powering up to emergency full-thrust. Make your shots count Alena; we’re only going to get a few passes at them.”
As if a cheetah had decided to attack a rampaging bull elephant, the Zephyr tore through space, closing the distance between the damaged battleship and the outmatched Zephyr in mere seconds.
The great ship held fire, choosing instead to concentrate its energy weapon on the more potent Intrepid.
“Nice of them not to shoot,” Alena replied in a laconic tone.
“Yeah,” Dason replied, “that won’t last long once we shake them up with our cannon. Speaking of shooting, see if you can knock out some of their laser turrets on our first pass.”
“Keep her steady,” Alena advised, “and I’ll do just that.”
Dason pushed the little craft over in a half turn to the left, dropped the nose, and brought the mighty warship into their sights.
“She’s trying to turn,” Alena called over to Dason. “But that’s not going to help.” With that, she pressed the cannon’s fire button.
A bright blue-green stream of ions flashed away, followed by a second burst. A side-turret on one side of the nearest battleship split apart with a fiery explosion.
A second later, another turret splintered into a thousand shattered fragments.
Alena pumped her fist in the air in triumph.
“Great shooting!” Dason cried out and barrel-rolled the Zephyr as it flashed across the warship’s stern. As it did, a barrage of powerful scarlet laser beams ripped past the small ship’s bow.
“Whoa!” Dason yelped and pulled the Zephyr straight up.
“I think we got their attention!” Alena called out.
“You think?” Dason yelped and slammed the Zephyr into a steep dive before he pulled the ship straight up again. He pivoted the ship on its tail before blasting away from the dreadnought.
Twisting and turning, the Zephyr sped away from the smoking ship, retreating to a safe distance. Dason glanced over at Alena and asked, “How long before the cannon is recharged?”
“Thirty seconds,” Alena answered.
Dason ran his fingers over the controls, slowing the craft. “I don’t think they’ll let us get that close again before opening with long-range fire.”
“That’s for sure,” Alena replied, “we’ve had our freebie, the next one is probably gonna cost us.”
Dason brought the ship around in a long arcing curve. He thought for a second and then replied, “Maybe.”
“You have an idea?” Alena asked.
“A long-shot type,” he answered and then explained his thought.
Alena listened with a skeptical expression. When Dason finished, she stared at him for several seconds with wide eyes. “That’s not a long shot, that’s an impossible shot.”
“Probably,” Dason agreed. “But, if we try the hey-diddle-diddle right up the middle as before, they’re going to nail us before we even get a shot off.”
Alena blew out a puff of air that lifted her short, black bangs. “Okay,” she replied, “if you think you can fly that profile, I’ll get the shots off.”
“We go for the stern,” Dason declared, “see if we can take their engines out, or at least reduce their power levels.”
Alena glanced down at her weapons board. “Fully charged,” she reported.
“Let’s do it.” She scanned her targeting board and a little smile crept over her face. “Our favorite target is coming about at mark six-six. Shall we pay them a visit again?”
“You bet,” Dason answered. “For now, they seem to be staying in the fight. Let’s see if we can convince them that retreating would be the better part of valor.”
Dason tapped in the new course and boosted power. He took a quick glance through the forward windows, sighted the hulking warship, and said, “Okay, here we go.”
His fingers played across the control board, maintaining his speed and course toward the enormous battlewagon. “Get ready,” Alena murmured, “we’ll be in range in five seconds.”
Dason held his hand over the acceleration controls, counting to himself. At “five” he slammed his hand down, and the Zephyr shot forward. At the same time, a flurry of crimson beams crisscrossed behind them, at the exact spot where the little ship had been a millisecond before the dreadnought fired.
Dason let the ship accelerate, and then flipped it and gave it full-thrust in the opposite direction. The Zephyr roared to a dead stop. Again, a swarm of bolts flashed in space, missing the small craft by mere meters.
In an instant, Dason flipped the ship around and hit the emergency thrust control. As if it were a fiery comet flashing through space, the Zephyr raced forward, right at the mighty ship’s boxy stern.
“That’s it!” Dason yelled. “We won’t fool’em again. It’s now or never, take your shot!”
Her hand poised over the firing stud; Alena waited a second before hitting the button full-force.
Two ion bolts thundered away and a second later, the battleship’s stern seemed to rear upward from an enormous detonation that sent flaming debris and huge pieces of torn metal spinning off into space.
Dason pulled the Zephyr into a tight arc away from the explosions that rocked the massive warship.
“I don’t know what you hit,” he gasped as he whipped the ship into wild contortions, fighting to avoid the whirling shards of broken metal that filled the void right in their path. “But I think it hurt’em pretty bad.”
As if out of nowhere, a half-dozen cherry-red energy bolts zipped by the Zephyr, close enough that Dason had to shield his eyes from the light that blinded him.
“Bad enough that we’ve caught the attention of his sidekick,” Alena replied. “She’s right on our tail and accelerating.”
Dason glanced down at his control board and shook his head, “We’re red-lined now,” he stated. “She’s given us all the velocity we’re gonna get.”
He heeled the craft hard to port and then back to starboard as more laser bolts flashed across their bow.
“That's a shame,” Alena muttered in a low voice, “because they’re gaining on us.”
Dason pulled the craft straight up, then barrel-rolled to port. “Anything left in the cannon?” he asked.
/>
“She’s dry,” Alena sighed, “not enough left for a good spit in their eye.”
Dason flipped the ship on its side and pushed her nose down, trying to avoid the next round of laser fire from their pursuers. He was too late. The ship slewed in a violent motion to one side.
“We’re hit!” Alena screamed.
Dason righted the ship and drove the ship into a blurring right turn. “Where?” Dason demanded of Alena as he brought the ship hard around to starboard.
Alena replied in a bleak voice, “Tit for tat, I guess. They took out the Hartbeldt. We’ve got nucleonics but no n-space drive.”
She gave him a bleak sideways glance. “They also took out our communications. No way to call for help, either.”
“Not that there’s anyone out there to answer a call for help,” Dason muttered in a subdued voice. He took a quick peek at the navigation scope. The immense ship was gaining.
“Any ideas?” Dason asked. “They’re closing fast.”
“Other than wishing for a fleet of Sha’anay to show up about now?” Alena replied.
She was silent for several seconds before to him. “You had your crazy idea, how about this for crazy?” In a rapid voice, she explained her notion.
The two locked eyes for several seconds before Dason stammered, “And I thought I came up with wild stunts.”
He was silent while he scanned the sensor array and the navigation scope. The battleship was bearing down, but waiting until they had the Zephyr dead in their sights before opening fire again.
The seconds were ticking, and they didn’t have much time.
Swallowing hard, he motioned toward the aft. “Let’s do this, call’em forward.”
Seconds later, the young scouts clustered in a tight group at the entrance to the pilot pod. Dason spoke in a rapid voice.
“This is the score, they took out our Hartbeldt and the cannon is fully discharged. They’re waiting until they’re right on top of us and can’t miss before firing.”
His voice hardened as he ordered, “You five into P-suits and then cram yourselves into the airlock. I’ll open the door before venting. The air pressure will shoot you out. It’ll be a rough ride, but the suits should be able to take the punishment.”
His eyes met Shanon’s and his face softened. “Hopefully, someone will spot your personal transponders and pick you up. It’s the best I can do for you under the circumstances.”
“And you?” Shanon asked.
“I’m going to program evasive maneuvers into the ship, and then I’ll join you,” Dason hedged. “But I’m staying until I know you’re safely out.”
TJ’s laugh was in sharp contrast to the somber mood. “Dason Thorne, you are absolutely the worst liar. You have no intention whatsoever of leaving the ship.”
“A truly miserable performance,” Sami offered. “Now if you’re going to tell a good lie, it’s all in the eyes. You—”
“Sami!” Dason yelped. “Not now.”
He gazed at their faces and saw the set jaws, the firmness in their eyes. “You’re not going are you? Not even if I make it a direct order?”
“Nope,” Shanon answered. “It appears that you’ve got another democratic mutiny on your hands, so you’d better come up with a better idea than us abandoning ship and leaving you behind—Lieutenant.”
For a brief moment, Dason felt a slow burn of anger that his team was bucking him, but then he realized how deep the loyalty of his friends truly was, that they were willing to stand with him, even in the face of certain death.
He shook his head and threw up his hands in mock anger. “Whoever claimed that I was in charge of this band of crazy scouts was definitely off their game that day.”
With a small smile he said, “So be it. Consider yourself all on report.”
His face softened as his eyes met Shanon’s gaze before he gave her a grateful nod and turned back to his instrument board.
One look told him that their time was up. The mammoth ship was bearing down on them at a rapid pace, and though he threw the ship into a series of evasive twists and turns, he knew it was a futile effort.
The gunners on the metal brute would look at them as little more than sitting ducks and would unleash hellfire in mere seconds.
“Dason!” Alena snapped. “Off our port bow. The asteroid field. If we can duck in there, they might not be able to follow us.”
Not hesitating, Dason threw the craft into a tight turn straight at the looming balls of rock. The giant ship behind them was slow on their turn, and the little Zephyr gained a few precious seconds of lead time.
Dason glanced at their velocity, his fingers poised over the controls to slow their speed at the right time. Closer and closer, the huge chunks of granite loomed.
“Uh, Dason,” Alena murmured in a small voice as her eyes widened at the approaching mass of rocks. “Aren’t you going to slow down even a little?”
Dason shook his head. “No. By now, our playmates will have realized what we’re attempting and as soon as they get back in range, they’ll open fire. I intend to put some rocks between them and us before they do.”
Dason glanced at the sensor board. Their adversary was making up for lost time, and it was obvious that they were aware of Dason’s gambit.
He did a quick calculation in his head, didn’t like the answer, and redid the computation.
Alena must have done the same because she said with a little sigh, “It’s too far, we’re going to come up short.”
Behind them, Shanon whispered, “We’re not going to make it, are we?”
Dason went over his pilot’s board, desperate to find something, anything that would give them more boost to outrun the marauding ship behind them. “Seconds,” he groaned aloud, “we just need a few more seconds!”
A violent blast of laser beams lighted up the space all around the Zephyr, passing within centimeters of hitting the ship. Dason stared in amazement. How could the battleship’s gunners possibly miss at this range?
A sudden realization dawned on him and startled, he cried out, “Wait! Those shots weren’t from behind; they came from forward!”
Another stream of scarlet and burnt-red bolts flashed by the Zephyr, so close that both Dason and Alena shielded their eyes from the intense light. “They’re targeting the battleship,” Alena cried out.
Both scanned their navigation controls. “The battlewagon! She’s turning away,” Dason sputtered. “She’s hightailing it out of here.”
“And with good reason,” Alena yelped. “Look!”
Dason glanced once more at his scope and then almost leaped out of his seat as he stared out the Zephyr’s forward windows.
Enormous gray ships flashed above, below, and on each side of the Zephyr, sleek Predators and Prowlers, powerful Vanguards, all in pursuit of the now fleeing dreadnought.
“What—” Dason began before Alena said, “They must be part of Admiral Stannick’s fleet, the ones who stayed with her and didn’t cross over to Peller.”
“Dason!” Shanon screamed. “Look out!”
Dason went into action, pulling the Zephyr’s nose up and hitting his thrusters in a vain attempt to avoid colliding with the immense boulder that seemed to come out of nowhere, but it was too late.
In a grinding, crunching slide, the ship’s aft portion slid across the jagged rock before sending the Zephyr tumbling out of control through the asteroid field and straight at a massive mountain-sized boulder that would crumple the little ship on impact.
Chapter Twenty
Star date: 2443.115
Peller’s Star Dreamer
Scurrying toward the yacht’s captain, Peller demanded, “What’s happening!?”
The man hesitated before he answered in a tentative voice, “The dreadnoughts flew into an ambush, and they’re withdrawing.”
His face paled as he turned to deliver more bad news. “At least two are heavily damaged but moving, the other appears to be dead in space.”
Peller stop
ped, too stunned to move before he hissed, “Who? Who did this to my ships?”
The man shook his head in answer. “It appears, sir,” he started before he stopped to draw in a sharp breath.
“It seems, sir, that they are warships belonging to the Imperium Navy fleet.”
Peller’s head jerked backward as if someone had slapped him across the face. He was speechless, his mouth working, but no sound emanated from his throat.
With icy eyes centered on the captain, he snapped, “You mean traitors! Imperium Navy traitors!”
His countenance red with fury, Peller demanded, “Have any of them made for the nova device?”
The captain scanned his sensors and shook his head. “There’s nothing on my scope to indicate that.
“One of our ships appeared to be chasing a small craft toward the asteroid belt, but they’ve turned around. They must have destroyed the ship and left before being engaged by the larger rebel forces.”
“Are you sure that the device is still safe?”
The captain fixed his eyes on his sensors a second time and waited for all the data to display. “Sir, nothing is showing anywhere near the device. From what I can see, it is still safe and totally undetected.”
Peller fidgeted in indecision, considering whether he should head this craft toward the nova machine now or wait for his personal flotilla of guard ships to arrive.
If he moved this vessel now, there was just the chance that the rebels would pick them up on their long-range sensors and send their own craft to investigate.
“Are we in any danger?” Peller asked.
“No, sir,” the man responded. “We’re still safely hidden behind this Trojan asteroid and its orbit is well beyond the danger area. Our escorts should be here any minute. I’m confident we’re secure here.”
Peller strode over to the comm's console. In seconds, he had his Faction commander on the screen. “Your status?” Peller demanded.
“All ships have dropped out of hyperspace and are standing by,” the man replied. “We’re regrouping and awaiting your orders.”
“Bring your ships to a radial distance of thirty AUs from Sarpens Two,” Peller ordered. “Have each ship ready to go to battle stations at a moment’s notice. Is that understood?”