The Falcon swung round to bring Papa-Five back into its sights. Lasers fired, crossing the distance almost immediately. Clay grinned. The Falcon hadn’t fired, he had. He’d beaten it to the punch. It bucked and turned, then broke off without firing.
Clay followed. He didn’t try to get more shots off. He focused instead on where the Falcon would be if it tried to lock on to Papa-Five for a killing blow.
Time after time the Falcon twisted and turned seeking to make the shot. Time after time Clay was ready, fire from his Lightning forcing the Falcon to abandon its plan.
Clay had to admit the enemy pilot was good. Damn good. Possibly better than Clay in some ways, and that was saying something. It seemed to be instinctual, though. Reactive. At a tactical level Clay was by far the better pilot, which was allowing him to steer the Falcon further and further from Papa-Five. Meanwhile Leo kept Papa-Five moving towards safety, coaxing the shields back up as he did so.
Finally the Falcon’s pilot realised trying to reach Papa-Five was pointless until Clay was dealt with. The change in tactic nearly caught Clay out, even though he’d been watching for it. The enemy pilot was very good.
Clay took a few hits as he dodged the incoming fire. He half expected the Falcon would try to swing past and pursue Leo. It didn’t. It executed a sharp, twisting turn and managed to land several more shots on Clay’s ship. The shields held, but they were being knocked down faster than they could recover.
Clay needed to change the game, and he had to do it now. He forced himself to relax, letting the fight take priority over tactical concerns. Conscious plans were replaced by instincts and reactions. It was a state few pilots truly reached, and far fewer could turn it on at will. Clay was one of those few.
The change had an immediate impact. This time when the Falcon fired Clay already had his ship well out of the way. The two ships tumbled through space, locked in a deadly dance with no safe way to break free. The Falcon broke one way, Clay the other. Each swung round in a spine crushing curve, seeking to get the drop on the other.
Neither quite managed it. They swung past each other at almost point-blank range. As they swung round again, Clay tried something different, something riskier. He dropped his speed, letting him turn more quickly but making his ship an easier target.
It worked. His turn was complete and he had the Falcon in his sights well before it could return the favour. Not wanting to waste his chance, Clay unleashed his lasers. It was a hit! The Falcon’s shields took a beating, though nowhere near enough to collapse them.
Clay kept firing, making use of his temporary advantage. The Falcon bucked and twisted, trying to throw off the attack. Clay doggedly pressed his advantage.
Then the Falcon started to roll rapidly. So rapidly that whoever was inside must be suffering massive g-force. Surely they must have passed out. Clay nearly stopped firing. He’d never seen a ship do anything like this. Only years of discipline kept his finger pressed down.
The move made no sense. Despite the rapid roll the ship wasn’t changing position. It was easier to hit than if it had been dodging. Clay kept pouring laser fire into the Falcon, unwilling to risk letting it go. He primed two missiles, waiting for the perfect time to launch.
Another volley of laser fire battered down the Falcon’s shields. Clay tensed slightly, preparing to launch the missiles.
Something happened to the Falcon. It suddenly peeled off, still rolling, corkscrewing its way to one side from Clay’s point of view. It happened so quickly Clay had trouble following what happened. Even as it rushed towards his ship travelling in the opposite direction, it seemed to be tumbling out of control.
Moments later laser fire crashed into Clay’s ship and the incoming missile alarm rang out. Clay’s mind froze, struggling to understand what had just happened. No one could possibly have calculated the rolls, spins and corkscrew needed to put Clay in their sights, let alone executed it well enough. Could they? It seemed impossible.
The alternative was that it had just been coincidence. First the manoeuvre and then the enemy reacting to their good fortune so quickly. Clay didn’t buy it. The odds against it would be ridiculously long, anyway. Add in the fact that the pilot should have been at least unconscious from the violent manoeuvring. No, the move had been planned, incredible though that seemed.
Clay’s mind might have frozen, his reactions certainly hadn’t. Even as he struggled to comprehend what happened he had his ship rolling away in a tight turn. The laser fire was soon falling to one side, but the missiles remained a worry. Four had been launched, and had they impacted weakened shields they would have been enough to destroy Clay’s ship.
Now, though, he was on the move. The four missiles were flying similar courses. Evading one meant he was evading the other three too, as long as he kept a reasonable distance ahead. The Falcon would have been better off launching the four separately from different directions, but that chance was gone now. The Falcon only carried four missiles.
Of course keeping ahead of them was easier said than done. They were faster than Clay, and could turn more quickly. In the short term he could stay ahead by managing the approach angle, ensuring a small course change on his part required a much larger change from the missiles. After two or three passes he’d have used up all his manoeuvring time. He had to come up with something, and do it quickly.
As the missiles shot past some way to his right they were already beginning to curve around. The screech of laser fire on his shields reminded him the Falcon was still in the hunt. Judging his moment carefully, Clay did the unthinkable. He used his thrusters to spin his ship, slowing greatly and ending up heading straight towards the missiles.
It was a desperate move. If he missed any of the missiles he’d be in serious trouble. Clay opened fire immediately, targeting the closest missile. Moments later it blossomed into flame. Having detected the attack the remaining three missiles started to bob and weave. Clay kept firing. The closest missile would strike in under ten seconds.
Stitching laser fire across the darkness of space Clay homed in on the second missile. Finally he managed to make missile and shots converge. Only two left now, but they were only a few seconds out.
One, Clay thought. Just one. I can take the hit from a single missile. Two though… that would be tight.
Three seconds… two…
Yes! The third missile exploded. Even if the last missile got through the Lightning would survive the impact with its current level of shields.
The screech of laser fire impacting his shields made Clay jump. Damn! He’d forgotten the Falcon. More shots hit home, draining Clay’s shields.
This time his reactions worked against him. Instead of trying to destroy the final missile he found himself peeling off. The Falcon was ready this time. More shots landed than went wide, draining the shields further.
Clay cursed violently at the crushing g-forces as he yanked his ship back towards the missile again. There was no time for finesse or skill. He simply kept his finger mashed down on the fire button and tried to sweep the sight across the missile’s path at point-blank range.
More laser fire crashed into the shields from behind and the blast of an explosion did the same from in front. Clay’s eyes shot to the shields display. Thirty percent! Low, but much better than it might have been. He must have taken the missile out.
More laser fire. He couldn’t let the Falcon get away with pouring shots at him or he’d be just as dead as if he’d not dealt with the missile. His instincts screamed for him to weave away. Ignoring them, he cut the main thrusters and used the manoeuvring thrusters to slow as much as was possible.
The blare of the collision alarm sent fear through his body. He might have panicked had he had the time. He didn’t. Almost as soon as the alarm sounded the Falcon swept over Clay’s head from behind. The braking manoeuvre had completely thrown it off.
Four missiles appeared on the display. Clay took a moment to realise he had fired them, he had no memory of doing so. It was a perfect shot. The
missiles were almost on top of the Falcon as they launched. Their target started to slide to the left but it was much too late. Only seconds after being launched, the missiles all struck home. A huge fireball engulfed the Falcon, followed by a second explosion as its engine failed.
And then it was gone. Clay’s heart was hammering in his chest. Relief flowed through his muscles. He let out a short bark of laughter. That had been the hardest dogfight he’d ever been in. It ranked up there as one of the most difficult things he’d ever had to do in a fighter.
As the initial euphoria settled, Clay found himself wondering about the enemy pilot. They’d been phenomenally skilled and withstood turns which would have pulped Clay. And the transition from a violent roll to a corkscrew which had left it in the perfect position to attack was simply breathtaking. Clay kept thinking about it as he looped back over, heading towards the remaining battle even though it seemed likely the pirates would all be destroyed long before he got there.
“Thanks, buddy. I owe you,” Leo sent.
Clay smiled at the heartfelt words.
“No problem,” he replied. “But next time you deal with the superhuman pilot!”
“Fair enough, so long as I can get this pile of scrap back to the Cloud. Catch you later.”
Clay hardly acknowledged the farewell. Something had clicked in his head. Something that filled him with dread. Superhuman. That was the word he’d used to describe the enemy pilot. Superhuman. There was an explanation for their extraordinary skills and resilience. They might be Tainted.
So little was known about the Taint that rumours inevitably circulated. Many of those rumours talked about some of those who became Tainted gaining amazing strength and speed of thought. They were only rumours but they were persistent, and Clay couldn’t think of anything else that fit what he’d just seen.
If there was even the slightest chance of the enemy pilot being Tainted then Clay had to call it in. Hell, the senior officers might already be aware if they were watching Clay’s dogfight. Either way, he had to tell them. There was just one problem. If he called it in he’d be signing Leo’s death warrant.
With so little known about the Taint strict rules had been put in place by the Empire. The one that mattered now was the requirement to keep shields up on ships at all times to prevent physical contamination. Leo’s shields had been down. That meant automatic quarantine for at least two weeks, and probably quite a bit longer. The enforced rest would drive a fighter pilot like Leo halfway round the bend, but he’d survive.
Suspecting the enemy pilot was Tainted changed everything. One of the few facts known about the Taint was that physical transfer seemed to be required. It couldn’t be spread over comms channels or through shields. If it could, then the entire Empire would already have fallen. With his shields down Leo could have been exposed to the Taint. If he was Tainted then allowing him back aboard the Purple Cloud, even in quarantine, was out of the question. Too many Imperial ships had been lost to the Taint already. There really wasn’t any choice. With a heavy heart Clay opened a direct channel to the corvette.
“I need to speak to the captain,” he said. “Top priority.”
“One moment please…”
There was a short pause, then another voice cut in.
“Webb here. What’s so urgent Clay?”
“Captain, take a look at the fight I just had. I think the pilot might have been Tainted.”
“Damn…”
The channel went dead. Clay studied the fight he was heading towards. Only three pirates remained, and two of those were trying to make a run for it. Even as Clay watched the single enemy still fighting broke apart into flaming wreckage. The remaining two pirates wouldn’t get far with several Lightnings pursuing them.
They didn’t need his help. Clay swung his ship around, heading back towards the Purple Cloud… and towards Leo. He owed it to his friend to at least be nearby.
“Griffiths, we agree with your assessment. There’s a very strong chance you were fighting a Tainted pilot. That changes our assignment. We won’t be boarding the base now. We will obliterate it.”
The base. Clay had all but forgotten it during the fight. It was far enough from the fight that it couldn’t interfere directly, and if it had launched more ships they would have been detected long before they could become a danger. Clay couldn’t find it in himself to pity those on the base. They had chosen to reject the Empire, to live a life of crime. Even without the risk of them being Tainted, the universe would be a better place without them. But if the captain was focusing on the base had he realised the implications for Leo?
“Captain, Leo…”
Clay choked on the words, unable to speak them out loud.
“I know.” The reply was quiet, subdued. “We already had him preparing for Delta protocol. I have upgraded it to Omega protocol. I’m sorry. I know you and Leo were good friends.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Clay barely managed to choke out the words. “Out.”
He killed the circuit, thinking on the captain’s words. Were good friends, the captain had said. Were. Past tense. Because Leo was as good as dead, he just didn’t know it yet.
“Hey guys, do you want to maybe hurry things up?” Leo’s voice made Clay jump. “I’m sitting in a ship that’s being held together more by hope than anything else, the cockpit is open to space and I’m starting to think my survival suit might have a slow leak.”
Leo was broadcasting on the wide band but was clearly aiming his words at the Purple Cloud.
“Wait one, Papa-Five…”
“Take your time. Just not too much of it.”
Clay’s chest felt tight. He had trouble breathing. He’d lost friends before, but never like this. Never with them sitting there chatting away, thinking they were safe.
“Papa-Five, proceed to these coordinates and await further instructions.”
“On my way. Papa-Five out.”
They weren’t going to tell Leo. It made a certain twisted kind of sense, but Clay couldn’t accept it. Leo would fly to the coordinates and prepare to leave his ship. Prepare to be transferred into quarantine. Instead he’d be blown out of space by the corvette’s weapons. He probably wouldn’t even have a chance to realise anything was wrong.
Anger flooded through Clay. He wanted to smash something. To punch someone. To do something to make everything right again. To make Leo safe. There was nothing he could do though. Nothing he could change. Except one thing. Not stopping to think of the possible consequences, he opened a private channel to Leo.
“Clay! How ya doing? Jealous of the little holiday I’ll be going on, are you?”
“Leo…”
Once again Clay found words failing him.
“Hey man, no need to get that jealous. What’s up?”
Leo’s words were still light, but his tone wasn’t. He knew Clay well enough to know something serious was happening. Something bad.
“Leo… the pilot who nearly killed you…”
“Quite the bastard, that one,” Leo interrupted. “I meant what I said earlier. I owe you my life.”
That was too much for Clay. “Shit! No you don’t. That pilot… I think it was someone with the Taint. The things they did were way beyond any normal pilot. I… I had to tell the captain.”
There was silence for a few moments, then Leo let out a deep sigh. When he spoke again, most of the life had gone out of his voice.
“Of course you did, Clay. I’d have done the same. We all know the rules, and the risks. No way you or I would ever give up flying these babies, though, so we take our chances. I just got a bad shake of the dice today.”
“I’m sorry, Leo.”
“Don’t be!” Some of the fire returned to Leo’s voice. “This wasn’t your fault. That bastard nailed two of us and nearly finished me. Turns out he really did finish me, I guess. You stopped him, and you did it damn well. Don’t lose sight of that. And make sure you get good and pissed in my memory.”
“What will
you do?”
“Well, I’m not going to run, even if this tin can was in any kind of shape to do so, which it sure as hell isn’t. I don’t really fancy being target practice for our own side either. If I’m going to go then it’ll be on my terms. Look after yourself, Clay, and thanks for warning me. Stay safe. Goodbye.”
“Thanks, Leo. Goodbye.”
There was so much more he should say. How much he would miss Leo, how much their friendship meant. How sorry he was for not getting involved sooner, saving Leo before his shields were knocked down. He couldn’t. Even the three words he’d managed to speak had almost choked him.
“Purple Cloud, this is Papa-Five.” Leo was back on the general band. “I’m having problems with the engine. I think it might have taken more serious damage than I thought.”
“Papa-Five, we don’t see any signs of engine problems. Please proceed to…”
The words cut off as Leo’s ship blew apart in a massive explosion. Clay’s helmet and cockpit automatically damped down most of the glare, but he still found tears in his eyes. Leo always had a way with systems. Either squeezing the most out of them or diverting them for his own means. He’d proven it one last time, taking a stable engine to the point of destruction in only a few seconds.
The explosion cleared almost immediately, and there was no wreckage to be seen. Nevertheless, Clay found himself staring at that patch of space for a long time.
Chapter 21
How did they find us? For a few seconds it was the only thought in Jess’s mind.
Then the danger of the situation filtered in and he leapt into action. Reaching for the Wanderer, he accelerated his thoughts. First, he checked the status of his ship. While far from full strength, it was in better shape than it had been. The damaged hull had emergency patches in place to strengthen it. The main shields were up and providing at least a reasonable level of defence.
It wasn’t all good news. Many of the damaged thrusters were still offline, making the ship respond sluggishly. That could be their undoing, especially against such overwhelming forces.
Wanderer's Odyssey - Books 1 to 3: The Epic Space Opera Series Begins Page 62
