His eyes turned to his destination. Like any good freelancer, once he left the official path, he made sure that each stop was a decent place to hide or lose a tail. It was not unheard of that a diligent or observant patrol would catch him on their sensors and follow him to deliver a stern talking to and a hefty fine, so it paid to take precautions. Right now he was headed toward a communication relay cluster. It was a tight little clump of remote satellites that received and distributed the fancy FTL communication signals that had been rigged up to ensure that emails warning of minor transit delays didn't end up arriving decades after the ships did. As hiding spots went, this seemed like a bad choice. Relay stations were both expensive and essential, which translated to great security. The instant he even got close, all sorts of really angry alarms would start sounding, and within minutes there would be patrols and repair crews on hand to take care of the intruders and whatever damage they might have done. One would think that this was exactly the opposite of what Lex would want, except for two things. First, law and traffic enforcement patrols had to fill out a load of paperwork if they violated the safety perimeter of a relay station, and pirates and other freelancers were just as eager to avoid being noticed as Lex was, so just about anyone who might tail him would think twice about following him into the array. He crossed his fingers and hoped that whoever was chasing him fell into one of those categories. On the more than likely chance that he wasn't so lucky, he pulled out the all-important stick of chewing gum and loaded it into his mouth.
The ship slid quickly down to speeds that Einstein would have approved of, allowing the majority of his sensors to switch back on and immediately inform him in no uncertain terms that he was in big trouble. Ahead of him was what looked like an extremely spread out parking lot, ship-sized clusters of receiver dishes and transmitter antennas laid out in a grid to form what Lex had once heard called a phased array, whatever that was. Scattered around the area were similar arrays angled vaguely at important star systems, broadcasting to anything near enough to get it in a few minutes and engaging in sophisticated quantum trickery to get data to other similar arrays for everything else. A lengthy and extremely detailed warning message was being transmitted by the array informing him of ordinances and policies he was violating, but he ignored it and zipped in among the satellites. Once he was nestled beside one, he dialed down the power and switched the ship into silent running mode. It was yet another of the niceties that Karter had installed, though in this case it was one he actually asked for. With the right settings, the SOB was invisible to almost any sensor but visual, and the relay satellite would hide him from prying eyes.
Normally he would flit around inside the relay array for a while until the person on his tail was good and confused, then make a jump to the next location, but this time a different tactic was called for. He didn't know for sure who it was that was following him or how they had managed it. A little bit of hide and seek would give him a chance to see what he was dealing with. It didn't take long for his shadow to arrive. What dropped out of FTL at the outer perimeter of the relay array was a ship that was triple the mass of his, armed to the teeth, and with fully activated weapons. For the moment, though, the guns weren't the most worrying thing about the vessel.
For one thing, it shouldn't be there. Even if the pilot had known precisely where Lex was headed, it should have overshot by a few hundred thousand kilometers, since Lex was the one who had decided precisely when to stop, and this guy would have had to react to that. Human reaction time, multiplied by many times the speed of light, equals extremely far off course. This guy had stopped precisely where Lex did. He didn't even know how that was possible. Either the pilot of this ship was a clairvoyant, or Lex had somehow been tracked. Regardless of how it had been pulled off, it translated to a ship heading directly for the array, and an intimidating ship at that. It looked similar to the gunship that had shown up on Tessera... in fact, it looked exactly like the gunship that had shown up on Tessera. The front end was equipped with the same four turrets and there was a pair of yawning missile launchers under a pilot compartment that was completely armored, foregoing even a viewing window. A dark blue energy shield shimmered into being around it, produced by the heftiest looking emitters Lex had ever seen. The rest of the ship was all engines and reactors, and according to Lex's sensors, every one of them was belching out enough heat to suggest that a catastrophic failure was not far off. As more time passed and more sensors were able to complete their sweeps, it became increasingly evident that this thing was one serious predator... And it wasn't just heading for the array, it was heading directly for Lex's ship.
"What? No! I'm in stealth mode, how did they find me? There can't be a tracking device, I checked the ship before I left! That's it. When this is over I'm getting a built-in hull scanner... Wait... Computer, activate hull scanner."
After a few moments, one of the voices Ma had borrowed announced. "Hull scanner active. Scan underway."
"I seriously have to get Ma to give me that list of features they installed that I didn't ask for."
"Unknown electronic device attached to the port side, aft docking socket."
"He put it underneath the docking clamp? Man... Whoever this guy is, he's good," Lex said. "Let's see what sort of gear he's got, though. That beast might be better armed than me, but there is no way he's as agile as I am. All I have to do is get out of range before-"
"Plasma Cannon Lock Detected," computer stated.
"COME ON!" Lex objected, hammering the throttle.
"Missile- Missile- Missile- Missile- Lock Detected."
"Please tell me you've got a stutter," Lex groaned, pulling hard at the controls in time to just barely avoid the first volley of plasma bolts. Holding down one button and tapping another activated his ship's not-so-legal offensive mode, and updated the displays appropriately.
He flicked a sparing glance at the sensor screen to see four missiles closing fast. A nice little "time to impact" counter was tracking each one. With an exasperated squeak that caught in his throat, Lex angled his ship down and juiced the throttle further, but it was pretty clear that the missiles were going to catch up. No problem, they were grouped together, and the SOB had all sorts of fun tricks up its sleeve. He dialed the engine down to 98.6%, double-tapped his lights, and popped his heat dumpers. What precisely all of that meant didn't matter. The important thing was that it was the secret command to trigger a burst of circuit scrambling radio waves out of his ship's rear end, an Electromagnetic Pulse. All four missiles flared and flew wildly off course, drawing fun little squiggles on his screen before three out of four prematurely detonated.
"Yeah! Is that all you got!?"
"Missile- Missile- Missile- Missile- Lock Detected."
"I guess not."
The EMP trick, alas, was a one shot deal, since it took a minute or so to recharge, and that was about 55 seconds too long. His brain chewed on the alternatives and spat out a typically desperate stunt. The missiles were fast, very fast, but that also meant that it would take them forever to turn, as the single remaining scrambled one, which was just now beginning to head back toward him, was illustrating. If he wanted to dodge them, all he had to do was make a sharp turn. Unfortunately, that wasn't the sort of thing you could do in space. That is, not unless you got creative.
"Thruster output down, reactor output up," Lex muttered, tugging and pushing at the appropriate controls.
His thrusters dropped down to a dull glow, bringing his acceleration to nothing and allowing the missiles to gain on him that much quicker. Meanwhile, his reactor hummed and shuddered, building up one hell of a lot of energy and not having anywhere to send it. He watched his sensors, all the while nudging his thrusters to pivot his ship until he was practically facing the incoming ordinance. Soon he was sliding almost perfectly backwards through space, the distant glowing dots of the missiles clearly visible through the cockpit window. He waited, watching the dots get closer and judging his time. At the last possible moment
, he dumped the power into the thrusters. The ship lurched.
"Hold together, hold together, hold together," he chanted through clenched teeth.
His ship's frame groaned and complained as the sudden change in direction subjected it to stresses that no sane engineer would have designed for. Lucky for Lex, then, that the man who designed the SOB was a certified lunatic, because he managed to avoid flying to pieces. The four missiles previously on his tail couldn't adjust quickly enough, rocketing past him, far too close for comfort. The good news was that he'd survived the attack. The bad was that he was now flying away from the array, which represented the only thing resembling cover or safety for light-years, and flying toward the ship, which had evidently decided that it was perfectly willing to play a game of chicken, and give that plasma cannon another try while it was at it.
Bright violet bursts of plasma began to trace their dotted lines of destruction toward Lex's ship. He dodged and rolled, keeping himself just ahead of the string of blasts. One hand kept the ship on course, the other danced across the other controls, panic and exhilaration playing tug of war with his dexterity. He activated the more aggressive mode of his tractor beam and flipped it to the rear.
"Computer, voice interface."
"Voice interface act-"
"Auto-target missiles and auto-fire."
"Unable to comply."
"Oh sure," Lex growled, "That they don't give me."
"Unknown Command: Missiles."
"Auto-target trailing... targets," he attempted, casting a nervous glance at the blips that were now back on his tail and making up for lost time.
"Unknown Command: Trailing Targets."
A pair of plasma bolts grazed his shields, knocking them down a few percent.
"Auto-target best target. Fire, fire, fire!"
Evidently those had been the magic words, as he felt the familiar jackhammer rhythm of his improvised weapon activating. It took a few shots at the missiles, and even managed to destroy one, but quickly decided that the best target was the gunship bearing down on him. As the tractor beam rattled at the war machine, Lex realized a few key points. The first was that two fast ships going head on makes for a very short game of chicken. The second was that it didn't take a physicist to figure out who would win if his sleek speedster of a ship were to collide with the armored, shielded, charging opponent.
The four cannons on the gunship tracked Lex tighter and tighter, trying to cut off his escape and box him in. It took more and more of his mind and body to wrestle the ship through the shrinking gaps in the attacks. Bolts were almost constantly lapping at the edge of his shields, chipping away at his protection. Finally there simply weren't enough free braincells left to continue to second guess what was clearly the only option left to him. He held his course taking a few direct hits on his forward shields in order to maintain the straight line trajectory he needed for his "plan" to work, then eased the ship down at the last minute, dipping below the gunship and back up again. An instant later the missiles that had so diligently been following him found an obstacle- the ship that fired them. The explosion was massive, swallowing the ship in a ball of blue-white energy bright enough to activate the SOB's windshield tint even from behind.
"Oh my God," Lex breathed in terrified awe. "I killed him..."
He fought to catch his breath and slowly brought his ship around to survey the results of the blast. It was something he never thought he'd have to do. Something he never thought he would be able to do. But... there wasn't any other choice, was there? This ship, whoever was flying it, was going to destroy him. It was self-defense. Lex squinted at the residual trail of energy, trying to make out any wreckage and debris that he would have to avoid. It looked like...
His expression dropped. "Oh my God!" he cried, this time in mounting terror, "I didn't kill him!"
Instead of a sizzling hull or cloud of slag, he saw a damaged but still functional ship, its flickering blue shields blinking on and off as it sluggishly turned for another attack run. Lex's brain slipped back into "fly for your life" mode. According to the ship's sensors, his burly foe's shields were at 40%, and the handful of attacks that had hit their mark had left the SOB's own shields at less than 20%.
"If that thing's weapons can't take it out, there is no way that mine can. I gotta lose him. It's the only way."
The SOB's shields had absorbed a lot of punishment, but they had spared the rest of the vessel. There probably wasn't even a scratch on the paint job. His engine revving stunt hadn't done any serious damage either, but it had spiked the heat level in his systems and stressed the hell out of the power conduits, so pushing his ship to the limit would be a bad idea until he had a chance to tighten some connections and replace some hookups. That scrapped the plan of running long and hard until the beastly gunship overheats, but with that tracking device attached to the hull, no amount of running would do any good. He had to get it off. Doing so in the right way would involve going to a maintenance facility, which he would never make it to, or climbing out of the ship and prying it off himself, which would be suicidal. That meant he was going to have to do this the wrong way.
Lex was very good at doing things the wrong way.
He looked at the gunship, which had finally finished its turn and was firing with three of its four cannons. From the ponderous turn and the loss of one cannon, it seemed that the monster hadn't made it out of the explosion unscathed, despite the status of its shields. With any luck, that would give Lex enough leeway to play even faster and looser with his safety. Without any luck, well, Lex wouldn't be around for very long. He pushed his engines as hard as he dared and rocketed past the gunship again, dodging a string of blasts as he did. His foe started another turn, attempting to pursue, while his guns tracked as closely as they could. The SOB bobbed and wove, using pivots, dips, barrel rolls, and any other tricks he could muster to try to stay on as direct a course back to the antenna array as possible without getting perforated. It didn't take long for the gunship to get on his tail and start to close the gap, illustrating that while its maneuvering had taken a hit, its top speed was doing just fine. A moment later it became clear that at least one of the missile launchers was alive and well, as Lex's irritatingly calm computer announced another pair of missile locks. He glanced at the impact countdown, then at the approaching antennas. It was going to be close. That was good, because it would have to be.
With a half-second to spare, he whipped past the first antenna and placed it between the missiles and himself just in time for a brilliant explosion to cost the good people at VectorCorp one of their arrays, and costing the psychopath two missiles. Thus began what was probably the most expensive and high stakes game of tag ever played, with Lex blazing through the grid of antennas like a last minute shopper looking for the last spot in a mall parking lot. His makeshift weapon, which was still automatically firing at the best target, took a few potshots at the gunship now and then, but the heavy-duty shields shrugged off the attacks. On the other hand the pursuing ship was spraying bolts of plasma all over the area, blowing holes in dozens of antennas and ensuring that an awful lot of data wasn't going to be reaching its destination any time soon. When the lion and gazelle act had given him some breathing room, he started to edge his ship closer to the passing antennas.
"Okay... Just a little closer," he mumbled.
"Caution. Proximity Alert. Extreme Collision Threat," the computer helpfully bellowed.
"Shut up, SOB..." He took a deep breath, glanced at the location of the marauding gunship, and did what would stand as one of the most counter-intuitive actions he would commit for a very long time. He switched off his shields.
"Computer, display hull scan results."
A three dimensional representation of the ship appeared on his screen, highlighting the tiny foreign object. He angled the ship awkwardly and gritted his teeth.
"I'm sorry, baby," he said with a squint, then subtly nudged the unshielded ship toward the next relay module to go by.
"Rescan hull!"
"Minor cosmetic damage to port side of ship. Unknown electronic device attached to-"
Lex nudged in for another scrape.
"Rescan hull!"
"Moderate cosmetic damage to port side of ship, Unknown electronic-"
One last grinding scrape rang out, this time ending with a distinctive ping.
"Rescan hull!!"
"Minor structural damage to port side, aft docking clamp. Major cosmetic damage to port side."
"No Unknown electric device! Whooo--" Lex cried, his celebration cut short by a crackling plasma bolt glancing across his rear stabilizer. "Shields up! Shields up!"
It took a moment before Lex got control of the SOB again, and by then the gunship was tight on his tail. The controls weren't quite acting the way they were supposed to anymore, which meant the shields were forced to absorb one last shot and collapse before Lex got the hang enough to dodge the weapons fire again.
"Just gotta get him to lose sight of me long enough to make the next FTL jump," he stammered breathlessly as he listened to shrapnel from the dozens of damaged and destroyed relays clattering against his completely unshielded ship. A particularly large hunk of satellite dish bounced off of his windshield. "Some navigational shields would be nice, too. Since I don't want to die when I make the jump."
He glanced down at the shield indicator to see that it would be at least forty-five seconds before the emitters had finished charging enough to restore the flimsy but essential navigational shield, and more than three minutes for the ones that would actually keep the gunship from blowing him up. With one hand on the controls, he commenced tapping on the display, because it is a well-known fact that tapping on any indicator makes it show you the information you want more quickly.
"Missile Lock Detected."
"I thought he was done with those!!" Lex objected, putting both hands back on the controls and pulling hard back into the rapidly dwindling rows of relays.
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