The Starhawk Chronicles

by Joseph J. Madden

  K’Tran sighed, “Anyway, Bokschh is working on both the Nexus and Karson problems.”

  Jesse nodded and turned to Podo, “As soon as you’re done with Morogo, I want you to get on the comm-channels to some of the other hunter team leaders. I want to know who’s helping the Nexus. Obviously, it has to be someone with connections and the power to pull off an escape like that. Get in touch with Dancer, Sikhs, Hargas, —anyone else you can think of. I think it is time we started collecting on some old debts. “In the meantime, let’s get ready to lift off. I want to get a trace on Dark Blood’s engine signature before traffic in and out of here muddles the trail any more than it already has.”

  “Any idea where they might be headed next?” K’Tran asked, pulling on a clean shirt as he followed Jesse into the corridor.

  “I have a hunch, but I don’t want to say any more before we have more info. In the meantime, we also have to prep the ship for battle. We can expect another ambush, probably just before we leave the system.”

  K’Tran stopped in his tracks, forcing Jesse to halt his stride as well. “You want to tell me exactly how you figure that?”

  Jesse shrugged. “Rahk wants us to come after him. Only he doesn’t want to make it too easy for me. He likes to keep things interesting. He expected his little stalling move with Skritz and Ho’jisk to fail. They were just pawns in this game between us. I suspect everyone under his command is, including his brother. In the end, it will be just the two of us.”

  *

  “Coming up on Outpost Zeta,” Charris Bu’kel announced from his pilot’s seat without turning from his monitors. From this distance, the kilometers-long refueling station was little more than a speck, distinguishable from the stars and planetoids around it solely by the blinking navigational beacons surrounding it.

  From his command chair, Rahk gazed at the far-off outpost, fingers steepled before him in contemplation. “Have they detected us yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Excellent,” Rahk replied. “Engage cloaking shield and hold this position.” Charris responded without further comment, bringing the ship to a halt and engaging the cloaking device. The bridge instrumentation dimmed slightly as the ship became effectively invisible to both sensors and the naked eye.

  “What word from New Providence?” Rahk called to Tesk at communications. “Has the Starhawk departed yet?”

  “They have,” the Mantilorian replied through clicking mandibles. “They are proceeding to follow the trail laid down by Dark Blood, as you predicted.”

  Rahk’s lips curled up in a smile of satisfaction. Forster could be so predictably human at times. He was playing right into Rahk’s hands. When the chaos started, Forster and his crew would come charging to the rescue, expecting an even fight from the Dark Blood. He wished he could see Forster’s face when they found themselves fighting not only the Dark Blood, but also the better-armed Malcontent and her three flights of support fighters. Yes, what a glorious slaughter that would be!

  “Time until Starhawk is in range?”

  Charris checked his board. “Four hours, twenty minutes.”

  “Tell Dark Blood’s crew she begins her assault in exactly four hours.” Tesk nodded, his antennae bobbing with the movement as he relayed the message.

  Here’s where the fun begins.

  *

  “This is refueling station Outpost Zeta!” The distress signal blasted through the speakers on Starhawk’s bridge. “We are under attack by an unidentified ship! They came out of nowhere! Shields are down to twelve percent! We need assistance! They’re tearing us apart! Repeat, we need assist . . .” A burst of weapons fire and the transmission disintegrated into static.

  K’Tran turned in his seat to look back at his captain, shaking his head “Looks like you were right about that ambush, though how, I’ll never know. Just like your old man.”

  Jesse allowed himself a small grin at the comparison. His father had an uncanny knack for sniffing out trouble, and Jesse wondered if the ability had carried over. More and more lately, it seemed likely that it had. “Is it Dark Blood?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Carving that station up like a roast.”

  Kym turned from the co-pilot seat, having filled in for the still-ailing Morogo. “Station’s shields are almost gone. They won’t be able to hold out much longer.”

  “They won’t have to. This was all planned as a show for us. Once we arrive, they’ll leave the station alone,” Jesse keyed in the tactical display to the screen in his seats armrest. So far, it looked as if Dark Blood was the only attacker. It would be an even match if the Nexus did not have friends standing by, which, he knew, was a strong possibility. “K’Tran, I want you on weapons. Bokschh, take his place.”

  Without a word, K’Tran moved from his pilot’s seat and began strapping himself into the gunnery chair near the rear of the bridge, pulling the telescoping targeting controls down from the ceiling. Bokschh assumed the pilot’s station and began programming in counter-maneuvers.

  “Podo, open a channel to the station, open frequency. Let them know we’re on our way. Might as well let Rahk know we got his message.”

  “Aye,” Podo replied, switching on his headset mike. “Refueling station Zeta, this is the hunter ship Starhawk . . .”

  *

  “. . . we are coming to assist,” the Starhawk’s communications officer announced.

  That would be the cute, fuzzy one, Kayla Karson thought. The Warwick named Podo.

  She leaned back in her chair in the Nebula Dancer’s cockpit, put her feet up on the controls, and grinned. “Always the Boy Scout, eh, Cap’n Kid?” she said aloud. “OAT, what kind of competition are they looking at?”

  “There is one modified Ranger-class assault transport attacking the outpost,” the computer’s passive voice reported. “The attacker is not transmitting on any transponder frequency. It is highly probable that it is an outlaw vessel.”

  “Well, of course it’s an outlaw vessel; otherwise they wouldn’t be attacking the station now, would they?” Karson responded. Higher intelligence?

  OAT ignored the sarcasm. “Will we be moving in to assist?”

  “Not yet. Let’s see how they fare first.”

  *

  With shields and weapons ready, Starhawk was racing in on Dark Blood’s trail. The blocky assault transport angled up and away from the refueling outpost, forgoing her attack.

  K’Tran’s knuckles were white with tension as they gripped the firing controls. He fired wildly, attempting to anticipate the Nexus ship’s moves, but the highly maneuverable Dark Blood continued to stay one-step ahead, slipping out of the way before his shots could connect. Fire from its aft turret also forced Kym and Bokschh to dodge, throwing several well-aimed shots off and causing the elder huntsman to curse up a firestorm.

  “They’ve made definite upgrades to that ship since we last went up against her,” Kym said, struggling to keep the Starhawk on course. “I’d love to get inside that baby and take a look at her engine room.”

  “Well, if you get me a good shot, perhaps you’ll get that . . .” K’Tran’s voice trailed off. “What the hell?”

  Jesse keyed his tactical screen in to K’Tran’s board. Something big, very big was coming out of hyperspace aft of them. The ship was several hundred feet in length, its arrowhead forward section trailing off into a slender boom that gradually grew larger again at the rear where its twelve massive ion thrust engines were housed.

  “Just as I thought. They’ve got friends!” Jesse shouted. “We have a corvette decloaking starboard aft and they’re launching interceptors!”

  “A corvette?” Podo cried in disbelief. “Where did they get a corvette?”

  “The corvette is launching warheads,” Bokschh reported coolly.

  “Evasive action!” Jesse called. “Here’s where we earn our pay!”

  *

  Rahk roared his approval as he watched the Starhawk dive out of the path of the Malcontent’s inc
oming fire. This was going to be the most fun he had had in a long time.

  “Fighters have cleared their bays. Moving to intercept,” Tesk buzzed from communications.

  Rahk nodded approvingly. From over at weapons, Kahr was roaring with bloodlust as he opened up on the Starhawk.

  Indeed, the most fun in a long time.

  *

  “There have been several new arrivals in the vicinity. It appears that the Starhawk is entrapped. A late-model Harkonian Vengeance-class corvette has arrived on the scene and is launching fighters,” OAT reported. “Dark Blood as well, has turned her attentions to the attack.”

  Karson straightened in her seat, focusing on the tactical schematic OAT was displaying on her board. A corvette, even an older model such as this one, was serious firepower indeed, and surplus Harkonian warships were even harder to come by. Someone very high up held the Nexus in high regard. “Does it look like they have a chance?”

  OAT paused for all of two seconds. “Given the greatly increased number of aggressors and the available data on the weaponry those aggressors possess, the Starhawk has a fifteen percent chance of surviving intact.”

  “Even I wouldn’t play those odds.” Karson pulled her seat restraints firmly around her shoulders and began working over her controls. “Reroute all power from nonessential systems to weapons, shields, and life-support. We’re going to see if we can’t lend a hand.”

  “With our participation in the battle, I estimate that the Starhawk now has a thirty-seven percent chance of success,” OAT replied. “However, I estimate an eighty-three percent chance that Captain Forster will be quite angry at our interference. My data is based on published psychological profiles in the Hunter’s Guild database and information provided by yourself on your last encounter.”

  “Believe me OAT, I expect Forster to do no less than blow a gasket or two. But I really don’t give a damn.”

  *

  “They’re packing a hell of a wallop!” Kym shouted over the sound of the battle raging around them. “Shields are down by almost half!”

  It was an assessment that Jesse did not need to hear. He knew how bad the odds were against them. Against the Dark Blood, and even the assault gunboats that were attacking, they stood a good chance of coming out on top. However, with that corvette out there blocking a hyperspace escape route and throwing every weapon it had at them, he knew the situation was grim. Grim was, at best, an optimistic appraisal.

  K’Tran howled with glee and Jesse turned his attention to the viewport. Starhawk’s cannons had found a target, cutting one of the gunboats in half. The odds had turned, however minutely, a little more in their favor

  The ship shook as Dark Blood made a strafing run with her forward auto-cannons. K’Tran halted her attack run with a return volley. Dark Blood spiraled out of range.

  Jesse checked his tactical board in time to see one of Malcontent’s warheads coming in fast from astern. “Full shields aft. Missile incoming. Brace for impact.”

  Bokschh shifted Starhawk’s shields astern bare seconds before the warhead hit. The ship lurched as it rode out the blast. Screens sparked and exploded, systems crashed. The odds had quickly turned back in favor of the Nexus Gang.

  Despite the severity of the attack, K’Tran managed to get off another volley of fire, scoring against two more fighters with simultaneous cannon and missile shots. One fighter exploded; the other limped away.

  “Shields are almost gone,” Kym shouted. “I’m trying to reroute power but we’ve got about a dozen other system failures. Hull breach in the cargo area. Emergency forcefield is in place and holding, but I can’t tell for how long. One more hit like that and we’re finished.”

  Jesse felt a wave of nausea come over him. His ship, one of his last few links to his father, had taken a serious wound. It affected him as deeply as if one of his crew had been hurt.

  “I detect another ship coming in out of hyperspace,” Bokschh reported above the din.

  *

  “Starhawk is hurt bad on her aft portside,” Kahr shouted with jubilation.

  Watching the view screen, Rahk could see the Starhawk’s damage for himself. The ship was limping; that much was apparent. Several protective hull plates had sheared off and were vaporizing in her wake. “Brother, target another full spread of missiles.”

  An alarm buzzed from the pilot’s station. Charris scanned his monitor. “Another ship coming . . .”

  Malcontent yawed as an explosion rocked its midsection. Rahk and several others flew from their seats. The engineering station exploded, the blast killing the technician seated there.

  Rahk regained his footing in time to see the attacking ship race by overhead. Kahr cursed from his weapons station. “Fire controls are out,” He slammed a balled fist into the console.

  Rahk was more intrigued than angered. He gazed out the viewport as the newcomer raced into the thick of battle. “Now who the hell is this?” he said quietly to himself.

  *

  Karson targeted and fired Nebula Dancer’s missiles the moment her ship had dropped from hyperspace. Without bothering to assess the damage she had caused, she plunged her ship into the thick of the battle. A line from an old Earth cartoon flashed through her mind:

  Here I come to save the day!

  Chapter Ten

  Jesse and K’Tran’s reactions were simultaneous. “Now who the hell is this?”

  Bokschh scanned the approaching starship. “It is an SX-17 Blackbird reconnaissance ship of pre-Harkonian war vintage. According to her transponder signal, it registers as the Nebula Dancer.” The drone paused, and Jesse would have sworn he was surprised. “Kayla Karson’s ship.”

  Jesse slumped in his seat. “Why am I not surprised?”

  From the gun chair, K’Tran chuckled. “An old Blackbird,” he shouted gleefully, glancing away from his targeting screen long enough to give Jesse a meaningful look. “I haven’t seen one of those since the war. Wonder where she dug one up?”

  “She has destroyed two of the gunboats. She is drawing their attention away from us,” Bokschh reported. “She has also caused heavy damage to the enemy corvette.”

  Jesse looked to his tactical screen. As Bokschh had said, the Nebula Dancer had drawn off the fire of several fighters and the Dark Blood. The sudden appearance of another ship into the fray had obviously confused the Nexus members, who were now dividing their forces to try to contain two threats at once. “Redistribute our remaining shields fore and aft. Ignore the gunboats and bring us in behind the Dark Blood.”

  The gunboats that had not pursued Karson’s ship were turning for a head on attack on the Starhawk. K’Tran afforded these only a few passing potshots, saving weapons power for the larger Dark Blood. Starhawk passed through their attack, increasing speed as they passed by without scoring any palpable hits.

  “Get me a little closer...” K’Tran lined up Dark Blood in his sights. “A little closer and I’ll hurt them like they hurt us.”

  Dark Blood’s pilot, so intent on its pursuit of the Nebula Dancer, was unaware of Starhawk’s approach until one of his covering wingmen in the gunboats abruptly exploded off to his side. He immediately broke off pursuit, diving straight down, and into K’Tran’s gun sights.

  “Come to Poppa, you ugly little . . .” K’Tran finished the sentence by launching a quartet of cluster missiles. Upon approach, each missile split into four smaller warheads. The effect was staggering. Three quartets of warheads struck Dark Blood. The fourth took out another gunboat escort. Dark Blood’s engines went dark, and numerous hull plates vaporized with the impact. The Nexus ship was effectively dead in space.

  “Dark Blood has taken a mortal hit,” OAT reported. “Engines destroyed, shields failing. Starhawk is moving in for the kill.”

  “Let’s give them a hand.” Kayla responded with a broad grin. She pulled the Dancer into a wide loop, scattering pursuing gunboats in the process, and dove for Dark Blood. Starhawk was also circling around for another shot, but it was c
lear that she had the better angle. She centered her crosshairs on the Nexus ship and switched to missiles, but she could not get a locking tone from her targeting computer.

  OAT anticipated her question and answered her before she asked. “There is too much debris and plasma leakage for the missiles to obtain a lock. I suggest circling and trying to take your shot from another angle.”

  At the same moment, several shots from the gunboats behind them struck Nebula Dancer’s aft shields. “No time. Switch all excess power to shields. I’ll have to eyeball it.”

  She continued diving at Dark Blood. The Nexus ship grew larger in the viewport by the second. When she was less than a kilometer away, Karson loosed two missiles, but Dancer’s speed was so great that there was no time to pull out of the dive.

  The gamble paid off. The two projectiles struck Dark Blood amidships. The wounded starship twisted violently. Its hull breached and the ship vaporized in an expanding ball of orange-yellow flame, spewing wreckage in all directions.

  Nebula Dancer emerged from the center of the holocaust like a fiery bat out of hell. Karson let out a victory cry as she realized she and her ship had survived.

  Her celebration was short lived. Dark Blood, though dead, struck at its killer from the grave. A shredded engine port, propelled by the blast, penetrated the Dancer’s weakened aft shields, impacting her engines. Multiple systems crashed and failed. Karson was rocked violently about in the cockpit, and had she not been strapped in, would surely have been thrown into a bulkhead. As it was, her forehead cracked sharply against the console in front of her. The cockpit went dark.

  Dark Blood had her revenge. She was going to take Karson and the Nebula Dancer with her into the great beyond.

  *

  “Damnedest thing I ever saw!” K’Tran muttered as they watched the Nebula Dancer emerge from the expanding fireball that had only seconds before been Dark Blood.

  “That little stunt cost her, though.” Kym replied, scanning the Dancer. “She took major damage. Hull breech, all systems failing. Looks like her engine core is about to go critical any minute now.”