The Key

by Brian Fisher

  Chapter 23

  Lieutenant Wesley Martin watched as Redemption sped away toward the Ta'Reeth armada. A brief second was all he could spare before the frags were on him again. His fighter was one of the few that remained fully functional. The numbers had never been in their favor, but courage, skill, and tenacity often countered mere numbers. Most of the fighters had sustained significant damage and were dropping like flies to the voracious attacks from the Ta'Reeth.

  Two of the coal black shards of bone that were the Ta'Reeth fighters vectored in on his tail. White hot balls of plasma erupted from the dual cannons grown into the stub wings on the sides of the alien fighters. Wesley swooped down and away, barely avoiding the deadly plasma. The two frags followed, with plasma cannons peppering the space behind Wesley's fighter.

  "Wind three; this is Wind two, come in Wind three." Wesley sent over the wing's frequency. He never actually spoke or moved during flight. Every action was simply a thought, with no time wasting movements required. The pilot simply had to lie down on the fighter, and the hull sealed over the top of them, like a liquid metal, then hardened until it was time to open again. It protected them, and provided life support while being lightweight and durable.

  Wind three disappeared in a mass of green plasma.

  Lieutenant Martin saw an opening. He immediately dropped velocity, and fell behind the trailing Ta'Reeth fighters. Peppering one with his railguns until it erupted into a storm of flesh. He lost track of the other, which ultimately cost him his life. Less than a second after killing the frag, its wing mate ruptured Wesley’s hull, and exposed his body to the merciless vacuum of space.

  Wind Squadron fought hard to survive. Her pilots made the invaders pay dearly for the loss of each of their comrades.

  At the edge of the system, a small ship reverted to normal space. It was larger than a fighter, with enough space to hold a small crew. Powerful engines protruded from the aft of the sleek little ship. From the look of her design she was definitely a ship of war.

  A moment after returning to normal space, the ship's engines roared to life, hurling the ship towards Olcai.