Star Runners 2: Revelation Protocol

by L. E. Thomas

  “Stay limber, Tizona,” Braddock said.

  The formation loosened up, but remained focused on the fleeing pirates.

  Come on, Gan, Austin thought. Take them out.

  A moment later, Gan launched a missile. The weapon drifted in space for two seconds before the rocket activated. The missile shot off into space like a released animal hunting its prey.

  “I’ve got him,” Gan said, his voice shaking.

  Austin wasn’t sure what had happen since he left Tarton’s Junction, but he knew this had to be Gan’s first kill. The seconds ticked by as the missile hunted the Tyral fighter. Eight seconds later, the missile found its mark. The explosion flashed, but disappeared in the void of space. The enemy vanished from his sensors.

  “Good shot, Toad,” Braddock said. “Lock another one. Fast.”

  The recruit pilot found a lock quicker the second time. The Tridents approached a distance of seventy MUs. Gan fired his final missile and another Tyral craft exploded. Two pirates now showed up on the sensors, driving hard for the moon still a glowing speck in the distance.

  The final two pirate craft split up; one flying hard for the moon while the other looped around to face the Tridents.

  The distance dropped.

  “Alright Tizona,” Braddock said quickly, “This is it. Keep your cool. This pirate must have balls the size of asteroids to come straight at us.”

  The eight Tridents clashed into the lone Tyral pirate as both sides reached laser range. The craft collided into a chaotic ball of laser fire.

  “Rock!” Braddock yelled. “Take Bear, Cheetah and—“

  The space flashed a white searing light. Austin winced, the flash burning his retinas. When he opened his eyes, the Trident’s dashboard had gone dark. He blinked and shook his head.

  The hum of his engine had vanished. The constant hiss of his life support and the drone of the onboard electronics had ceased. The Trident drifted, its nose pitching forward. He pulled back on the stick.

  No response. The Trident had died. A frigid chill crept up his back. His speed dropped. Looking around, Austin saw the other tridents floating lifelessly in space.

  Far in the distance, Rodon’s fighter grew smaller.

  Austin punched the dashboard. Nothing responded. His ship had lost all power. Without the engine running to power the onboard systems, he would either freeze to death or die of asphyxiation.

  He swiveled his head around on his neck, searching the other Tridents around him. All the other running lights had darkened. The pirate craft floated in the midst of them like a piece of burnt charcoal. The blackened hull of the pirate craft looked like a sheet of fried metal.

  The dashboard flickered.

  “Come on baby,” Austin said, pressing the console. “Wake up.”

  The electronics warmed as the system rebooted.

  “Tiz…addock…mayday…day…”

  Austin tapped his helmet. The gamma wave crackled in his earpiece, but he couldn’t make out the words.

  He keyed for an engine restart. The engine whimpered. He tried again. This time, the engine rumbled to life.

  “…addock, do you copy? Tizona squadron, restart your engines. Do you copy?”

  “Tiger, Rock. What happened?”

  “Rock! That inbound bogey was on a suicide run.”

  “What?”

  “They rigged that fighter to be a manned stunner missile,” he said. “Must have been flying as Rodon’s personal escort. The guy fired off a stunner the size of a fighter and sent the shockwave through all of us.”

  Austin glanced toward the moon. “Can you fly?”

  “My ship’s banged up, but I’ll make it,” Braddock said. “You?”

  Austin ignored his fuel readings. “I can make it.”

  “Alright,” Braddock said. “Tizona, any other Star Runners copy?”

  “I copy,” Skylar said, her voice straining like she just woke from a restless nap. “What was that?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Braddock said. “Form up on my wing, we’re pursuing Rodon.”

  “But we’ll never catch him now,” Skylar said.

  “We’re going to try.”

  The three Tridents left the remaining floating Legion fighters. Braddock soared out in front with Skylar and Austin on his wings. Austin shook his head. Rodon couldn’t get away again. It must not happen today.

  The distance to Rodon’s ship dropped. The moon loomed in the distance, the shape becoming more than a long distance speck of light. Minutes passed as the fighters closed in on the moon.

  “Where would he get a stunner the size of a ship?” Austin asked. “I’ve never even read about that technology.”

  Braddock grumbled something inaudible. “We’ll chew that food when it’s on the table. Seventy MUs. Wish I had a missile.”

  “Copy.”

  As Rodon’s craft shot inside the moon’s magnetic field, Austin dropped all power away from his shields. He shot ahead of Braddock and Skylar.

  “We can’t let him get away!” Austin yelled.

  “Rock, pull back,” Braddock said. “Dropping all power from your shields is suicide.”

  “He’s entered the moon’s orbit, captain. If he gets away, he’ll regroup and try to ravage another dark world.”

  Braddock remained silent.

  A moment later, Braddock and Skylar closed in behind Austin. Austin managed a weary smile at the sensors before glancing back at his crosshairs. Rodon’s modified fighter-bomber banked to the left as it shot into the moon’s orbit.

  Soon he would escape.

  Austin gripped the stick. He slapped the side of the cockpit. Rodon would soon escape. He swore and transmitted onto an open gamma wave.

  “Rodon, this is Rock,” he said. “You wanted another time and place. Does this work for you?”

  Static met his taunt.

  “Rodon, I laugh at your fierce reputation.”

  Rodon’s modified craft looped into another direction. Austin smiled, lining his crosshairs with his fighter.

  “Be careful what you wish for, Rock,” Rodon sneered.

  A flurry of missiles released from Rodon’s craft.

  “Evade!” Braddock said.

  Austin veered left. Skylar pulled up. Braddock shot to the right. The missiles fired hot, seeking their targets. The missile’s targeting computer pinged, the sound hitting Austin’s earpiece. He rolled and spun the craft, two of the missiles zeroing in on the signature of his sensors. He dropped countermeasures, hoping the decoy would divert the incoming missiles. Straightening his course, Austin headed for the moon at full throttle.

  “Cheetah, report,” he said.

  “I’ve got this,” she said, her voice confident.

  Austin flew away from his comrades, the two missiles still on his tail. One diverted into the countermeasures and lost the track. A moment later, it sailed off toward deep space and away from the Tridents. The other, however, reacquired a signature on Skylar’s Trident.

  Austin looped around. “Cheetah, flow zero-four-two.”

  “Copy!”

  Her Trident swung around and made for deep space. The missile adjusted course, providing a larger target for Austin’s trajectory. He checked his energy banks. He had a few shots at most. The missile closed to within thirty MUs. Austin fired, the bolts soaring off toward infinity. He lowered his gaze, trying to center the crosshairs on the missile.

  “Hurry up, Rock,” Skylar said, her voice straining.

  Eighteen MUs until the missile would strike Skylar.

  Austin adjusted course, the crosshairs bouncing on top of the missile. He fired again, the bolts sizzling past the nose of the missile. Gripping the stick, he rested his index finger on the trigger. One more shot—that’s all his energy banks would give him before he’d have to divert from the engines.

  And he didn’t have time.

  “Hang on, Cheetah,” he breathed.

  Seven MUs.

  The missile lined up behind Skylar’s
fighter. It stopped rotating, the onboard sensors locking onto her signature.

  Three MUs.

  Austin led the missile slightly, the crosshairs just above the projectile. He thought of Skylar at the stick, fearing for her life and wondering if the missile would be the end of her. Please, let this shot be true.

  He fired.

  The two bolts left his laser cannons, the red illuminating the darkness of space. His energy banks flashed empty. The bolts crashed into the missile. The projectile spun and exploded.

  Austin gasped and leaned back in his seat. “You’re clear, Cheetah.”

  “Thanks, Rock. I owe you for that.”

  “That one’s free, sweetheart.” Austin turned his Trident around and formed up behind Braddock. “You okay, Tiger?”

  “Missile hit my countermeasures too close to the fighter.” Braddock sighed. “Took some flak in the engine, but she’s flying.”

  “Where’s Rodon?” Austin asked.

  “Check four-six-zero.”

  Austin looked at his sensors. Rodon’s ship had turned back immediately after firing his missile volley. A curve opened on the dark side of the moon. Rodon’s ship shuddered forward, and disappeared from the scope.

  Despite their efforts, Dax Rodon had escaped again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  “Take this.” With his oversized hands, Waylon passed a cold rag to Josh. “And this.”

  Josh accepted the rag and the cup of coffee. “Thank you.”

  “Word of warning; there’s a little extra something in the coffee. Should help with the pain.”

  Josh smiled. “Whatever works. Where do you guys get this coffee, anyway?”

  “Buy it, usually. Why?”

  “Coffee’s not an Earth drink?”

  Waylon blinked. “I don’t think Earth has the monopoly on coffee. Why?”

  He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

  The lump on the back of his head had swelled in the hours since the battle for the asteroid base. He passed out for a few minutes on the pile of blankets Waylon had offered, dreaming of torture and laser fire. When he woke, the back of his head felt soft and tender like thawed meat, the pain flashing through his body with each heartbeat. He sat as still as possible, taking short, shallow breaths as the Barracudas cleaned the hangar bay and doused the fires. They tossed the bodies of the Tyral Pirates into the airlock with the rest of the trash, ending the pirate’s reign of the secluded rock in the middle of the asteroid field. The Barracuda vessels had refueled using the pirate’s supplies, and had started filling storage tanks for transfer.

  As he watched his crew continue salvaging the hangar like vultures on road kill, Waylon sipped on his own cup of coffee and sat next to Josh. They sat in silence, watching the crew cleaning the hangar.

  “We spent too much time working down there,” Waylon said, nodding to the hangar bay where they had spent countless hours stripping the vessels stolen by Rodon and his men.

  “Rather not think about it,” Josh said, closing his eyes as he fingered the lump on the back of his head.

  Waylon took a drink, his eyes on Josh. “Who is Kadyn?”

  Josh blinked, the cup of coffee steaming in his face. “What?”

  Waylon smiled, his beard moving with the gesture. “When you were out earlier, you kept saying that name.”

  He swallowed and stared into nothing. “That’s a long story.”

  “We have plenty of time,” Waylon snorted.

  “What does it matter?”

  “You’re one of us now,” Waylon said, staring into his coffee. “With what we’ve been through, you are definitely one of us. I’d like to know anything you feel like sharing.”

  Josh sighed and raised his eyebrows, his stomach tightening at the thought of Kadyn’s brown hair as she sipped on a massive drink at the coffee shop. “She’s a friend, a good friend from long before any of this happened.”

  “You are joined with her?”

  He shook his head. “You mean married? No. I don’t think she even knows I care about her.”

  Waylon shook his head. “Strange world.”

  “How’s that?”

  Waylon lowered his gaze. “Where I am from, life is short and hard.” He gestured to the Barracudas cleaning the hangar. “This is my family. They know I would die for them. I say this because it could happen any day at any time. There is not always tomorrow.”

  Josh bit his lower lip, thinking of Rist falling to the hangar floor. “I know. I’m sorry about your losses today.”

  Shaking his head, Waylon reached out and squeezed Josh’s shoulder. He smiled. “You are my family, too.”

  Josh looked at him, thought of the first time he saw Waylon in this very asteroid. “First time I met you, I thought you were going to kill me.”

  “All great friendships start that way, yes?” He slapped Josh on the shoulder.

  “Not on Earth.”

  Waylon cocked his head to the side. “Tell me of Earth.”

  Josh exhaled and closed his eyes. “I don’t remember. Seems like a different lifetime.” He took a deep breath. “It’s a good place. A safe place. There is law and order for the most part.”

  “I have heard it is a warlike planet,” he grumbled, stretching his legs out in front of him.

  “Sometimes, I guess that’s true. We have a hard time understanding and accepting each other’s differences.” Josh frowned.

  They sipped on the coffee, nodding slowly.

  “What’s next for you, Waylon?”

  He seemed to consider the question. “We could move here and start over. The base is well hidden, more room than we could ever dream of using. More than we have on Sanctum. It’s a good location for shipping, too.”

  Josh blinked. “You don’t think the pirates will come back?”

  “Perhaps. I suppose it’s always possible. Whereever they have gone, I hope they decide to stay.” He eyed him. “We could use a good pilot to help get us running. I know it’s not as fancy as being a Legion Star Runner, but it could be a good life.”

  Josh looked away. Working for the Barracudas would not be his dream job, but serving in the Legion Navy had brought him here. Could he even go back?

  He sighed. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the blood and toil sacrificed as a slave of the Tyral Pirates. The past few days had been a blur. His body ached, and he sometimes wondered if he could even walk to the bathroom when the time came. Becoming a Barracuda and working for Waylon might provide a break now that the Tyral Pirates no longer had a base. Of course, they would come back whenever they—

  Josh’s eyes grew wide. His heart thumped and seemed to skip a beat. What was he thinking? The Tyral Pirates had left this base, bound for a dark world somewhere. He needed to find out where and warn the Legion.

  “Waylon, I would love to stay,” Josh whispered. “You have a family here, a group that loves and respects you. I have that, too, back with the Legion. I have to find out where that way station was going. Quadrant Eight could be in danger.”

  Waylon nodded as Josh spoke. He buried his hand inside his beard and rubbed his chin. “How can I help?”

  Josh glanced over at the control room. “Before we had our welcoming party with the pirates, I wanted to check out that control room.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.”

  Waylon carefully draped Josh’s arm around his neck and lifted him. Josh winced, keeping the cold rag on the back of his head. The floor shifted beneath his feet, darkness closed in at the edge of his vision. He paused, fighting the feeling he would pass out.

  “Easy,” Josh said, “I feel like the room’s spinning.”

  “You took a knock on the head,” Waylon said, grunting as he took on more of Josh’s weight. “That’s normal.”

  They shuffled across the hangar to the control room, the other Barracudas glancing at them as they moved. Matta smiled, pushing a dolly through as Tocol ignited a welding torch. Waylon reached out and opened the door with his free hand. T
he room smelled of burnt electronics. Computers hummed on standby. Waylon led Josh to a chair with wheels in front of what must have been the main control desk.

  “What did they use all this for?” Waylon asked as he looked around the room.

  “I think it was air traffic control,” Josh said, switching on the station in front of him. “I really don’t know. They probably ran their entire operation in here. Our operatives would have a field day with his stuff.”

  Waylon snorted. “I’ll bet.”

  While the workstation warmed up, the green screen flickered through a series of diagnostics. The software included a language option, a feature common on all Legion space vessels. Pushing away any thoughts of how the Tyral Pirates had gained such software, Josh keyed for the translator, selected “Earth” and found English. Waylon activated the rest of the room while Josh sat in the chair, the cold rag still pressed to the back of his head.

  The diagnostics revealed the base had a missile defense system, military grade communications and long-range sensors displaying a hyper-accurate readout of the entire star system. A hologram projector loomed over the room, allowing the control room to double as a holographic planetarium. If any ship decided to head into this system, the Tyral Pirates would know about it. Other information poured into the computer including updated activity in several nearby star systems, one particular system caught his eye. He keyed to magnify the information on Flin Six.

  “What’s that?” Waylon asked, placing his hand on the back of Josh’s seat.

  “Not sure.”

  The system information poured onto the screen. Flin Six itself had nothing special enough to include an entire file. No minerals or precious metals showed up on the survey. However, this information suggested the Tyral Pirates had salvaged several Legion Tridents from the area. What had the Legion been doing there?

  “Friends of yours?” Waylon asked.

  “I hope not,” Josh said, sliding his hand over his mouth, “but Rodon gained a few of our ships here for sure.”

  He minimized the screen and looked back to the asteroid readout. “I’m going to warm up this missile defense system while we’re here. If Rodon returns with his fleet, we’ll have plenty of notice. You need to decide if you guys are really moving in.”