Starfire

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Starfire Page 7

by Imogene Nix


  “Yeah. He’s been trained to fly just about everything. As security officer, Duvall felt he was the natural choice to fill your role in the short term. Don’t worry, your Raptor will be in perfect condition when he returns. He’s anal about those sorts of things. Oh, and you’re expected to report at 0900 tomorrow morning in the bay, ready to fly again.”

  “Good,” she said, although she privately wondered if she was ready to go back out there. Sure, the physical symptoms were gone, but something strayed at the back of her mind.

  She inwardly shrugged. She’d wanted to become a combat pilot when the chance arose, and now here she was, and it wasn’t that she regretted her choices in becoming a fighter pilot at all, but maybe what had led up to that decision. With a final fleeting smile, she left the room and Raven.

  Chapter 5

  Once more seated in her Raptor, Jemma moved it through the bay and out into the black inkiness of space. It had been three full days since her collapse, but she was feeling good. Well-rested and alert, but watchful nonetheless. She’d been pleased to be back in the saddle, and she wondered if this was why she’d never felt settled in any aspect of her life. Because she hadn’t found the vocation that fulfilled her.

  “Cardnew to Elector. Everything’s silent out here and I’m catching a blank on my radar. Anything showing on yours?”

  “Negative there, Cardnew. Run the perimeter and check in again soon. McCord out.”

  She plotted an elliptical path allowing her to stay within a reasonable distance of the Elector and ran through drills in her mind. In the time she’d been flying, she’d learned, very quickly, that it could be lonely under these conditions, and it helped to have something to keep her mind active. She’d discovered during her time at Woomera that running through drills and management techniques for her craft kept her sharp as well as focused. It also had helped her to achieve the high marks she strove for.

  It was while running through drills for ditching that the alarms started bleeping. The comm unit bleeped at the same time she turned the vehicle, ready to spear through the darkness toward the ship.

  “Cardnew here, Elector. What are you seeing?”

  “Jemma, we got spooks. Lots of spooks. Looks like upward of fifteen heading in our direction.” Duvall’s voice came through the secured comm interface clearly. In her mind, she could picture him looking grim and running a hand through his short, black hair.

  “Shit! Why didn’t we pick them up before?” Jemma demanded.

  “We would have, but we shut down the long-range sensor to check some schematic issues we’ve been having. How soon can you get back here?”

  She hit the turbo boosters, moving quickly toward the ship. “I’m on my way, Elector. Hang tight.” Something of the strain from maneuvering her ship must have shown in her voice though, because next she heard Raven’s voice.

  “What’s going on, Jem?”

  “Err, negative. No issue, just a touch of vertigo in spin.”

  “Stabilizers?” his voice demanded through the comm.

  “They’re currently offline to get enough oomph.” She sighed. Not that she wanted to broadcast that kind of information, but he’d asked as though he needed to know and she’d instinctively answered. Thank heavens this was on the secured commlink, she told herself. It was something that required attention when she landed back on the Elector, but she’d make do for now.

  “Chowd here. Need another set of hands out there?”

  “Howdy doody, Chowd. You sure would be welcome, my friend.” She kept the ship moving and quickly took position in front of the Elector, watching as the small, retrofitted shuttle launched through the bays.

  She’d spent time last night working with Chowd to prepare for this event. Both of them had considered the odds of the pirates not coming back as highly unlikely, and they’d agreed that any incursion would come sooner rather than later.

  Looked like she was right again, she mused. They knew that there was only one single Raptor, and that had concerned her enough to seek out Chowd to ensure there was some kind of backup. But oh, how she hated being proven right in this situation.

  She sent a ship-to-ship message to Chowd. “Stay out of sight, behind the ship. You’re my backup if anything fails, Chowd my man. But for now, let me rock and roll.”

  She grinned, putting the Raptor into position. “Morning, boys. Back for another lesson?” She dead-eyed the lead spook as adrenaline coursed through her once more.

  “Ahh! It’s the little girl with a big attitude again,” came the sing-song voice she had heard before. “What are you doing with some broken ship? Why not join us and fly a spook? They’re new and so good to fly.” There was a bite in the words.

  “You know what? I prefer to stick with friends who won’t knife me in the back. But thanks anyway, not that I appreciate the offer.” She poured as much syrup into her words as possible. It wouldn’t help smooth the situation, but they looked like they weren’t in the mood to negotiate anyway.

  “Then move aside, little girl, and let us at the prize. We have salvage rights and we intend to use them.” The voice was much harder this time, and her hand tensed on the thruster in response. It was her job to protect the Elector, one she took seriously. She would do whatever it took to keep them safe. Anything.

  “You know, this is getting a little old. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you twice—nothing here to salvage. Now move along.” Her voice was hard and she tensed, fingers on the toggle of the multi-acquisition button. “I’m giving you the count of five to turn around and get out of my face before we find out just how many of you I can attend to at once.” It was sheer bravado. She couldn’t take them all at once, but she shrugged mentally. All they had to do was hang on tight until she’d done enough to encourage them to leave. Or died. Whichever came first.

  A burble of laughter filtered through the comm unit. “Little girl, do we look that gullible? The multiple acquisition tool can only take on so many at once and can only be used once with the lasers before requiring a hard reset.”

  Shit! He knows about the fail safe settings! Her stomach soured with that knowledge.

  “Now, given there are so many more of us than you, perhaps you should consider joining us as an alternative. Think of what you could do if you joined us.”

  Righteous fury flared and she hissed. “Get lost, you lump of camel dung. There’s no way I’d join you and the other scum you call allies.” She knew Duvall was listening, but the time for talk had passed.

  She pressed the switch once more and watched with narrowed eyes as the lead ships started to turn, splitting into two groups with the secondary group behind them. A new ploy. She considered her status and decided it was time to play them at their own bully games.

  She squeezed off a quick round, clipping the wing this time of one of the spooks. “That should be enough of a reason to leave us alone, you asshole.” She murmured the words quietly to herself, watching as the craft spun in space, turning and heading back where it came from.

  One down, about fourteen to go. She wasn’t going to use her best tool until absolutely necessary. Somehow, the thought that she had this tool didn’t settle the butterflies that were flying around in her belly. Maybe it was because she wasn’t sure, deep down where it counted most, that it would be enough to save them.

  “Now that wasn’t very nice, little girl. Time to play rough, I think.”

  Forewarned of an impending shot by the alarms that started to blare, she took evasive action with a hard swing to the left. Once more, she used the multiple acquisition targeting setting.

  “Right, you moron. This is where you need to back off. I have you all targeted, and I won’t hesitate to put a laser shot through you.”

  “Jemma, we have a problem. More incoming, and this time I think you need help.” Grayson’s voice was tight as he ground out the words.

  “Damn, Grayson, how many coming our way now?” She was beyond worry and descending into panic. Control came after l
ong puffs of air and a quick tally of the numbers appearing on her screen.

  “By my count, looks like another dozen or so. Chowd, get out there now.”

  “Grayson, even with the retrofitting, I’m not sure we have enough firepower between us to make this work.” Chowd’s voice filtered through the lines, sharing information that Jemma had already grasped. Thank God the spook pilots couldn’t hear the secured line. Chowd had instituted a level-three scramble on certain frequencies and insisted they use them only for this type of communication.

  “Jem, Chowd. The weld is completed. I think I can have this bird in flight within the next hour or so. Can you hold them off until then? In the short term, I can move everyone into the four main isolation areas and divert the aux generator to shields and weapons.”

  “Raven, I’m not sure I can hang out for an hour, can you make it sooner?” She waited, her mind trying to keep track of the movements of the ships.

  “Negative, Jem. That’s as soon as I can get them back online.”

  “Okay, shift what you can, because our situation is precarious.” One ship broke away and she tugged the Raptor to the left, cutting of their access to the Elector. “Captain? Duvall? Do you agree?”

  “Yeah, we need to get out of this safely. Do what you need to, but stay safe. McCord out.”

  She gave orders to Chowd to once more assume a position behind her Raptor and with a final flair opened communications with the spooks. “My captain and I agree...there is nothing to salvage here of interest to you.”

  This time a different voice echoed through the headpiece. “So, we meet again, my dear. My name is Crick Sur Banden, and I see you have met my colleagues from Phobos. Alas, I can’t be with you at this time, as I’m a little busy right now. I wish to extend an offer to you to join us. A lovely and talented young lady like you would be properly appreciated and thanked. And of course, there is a certain something or someone I am hoping to retrieve from the Elector.” The voice was oily, and she shuddered.

  “You know what? I don’t like your rules, so I’m going to decline. Thanks, but no thanks,” she bit out, feeling quite sick about the exchange. Fuck! What could he possibly be after on the Elector? Or more to the point, who?

  “Very well then. Of course, it is such a shame. You’re supposed to be incredibly talented in more than one way. Paros? Do as you please.”

  Suddenly the beeping in the cockpit got louder. “Shit. Chowd, get ready for incoming,” she called as the first burst of laser slashed close to the wing.

  She managed to spin away, and another fired. Jemma returned fire, strafing the lead ship so it spun wildly away into the blackness. Another ship fired laser cannons, and she waited until the last minute, sure she felt the rush of wind disrupt her trajectory.

  One by one they took turns at trying to push past her defenses. If she didn’t know better, she’d say the captains seemed to be toying with her. As she emerged from one spin, another would shoot and the spinning would begin again. After the fifth spin, she reached for the multiple acquisition and keyed it in.

  “McCord, I need a Go to—” Another spin. “—use the lasers on multi-acq.” She quickly pulled the nose of the Raptor up, and a spook dropped the first of its missiles. “Any time now would be a great time.”

  “Go to green.” Duvall’s tight voice filtered along the lines.

  She could see Chowd was in a similar position, the shuttle making heavy weather of the tight spins and movements. “Chowd, prepare for green light on multi-acq!”

  She hit the button. The lasers misfired, and she swore savagely, re-engaged the setting as she’d been taught, and fired once again. This time it worked. She scored multiple hits, effective but not enough to damage more than six or seven. She swore loudly and powered up the phasers. Three spooks exploded, scattering debris and adding an extra hazard to fly through. “Geez…”

  A ship snuck up behind her and she had to turn a tight spin to avoid the laser fire. She noted several other spooks were damaged, but not enough to ensure the Elector’s safety or to ensure that they’d back down.

  “Chowd, I need you to advance and take some of these suckers out. I need space to move!” Her voice was hard, and she was sweating, her hand gripping the thrusters as she toggled the comm. “McCord? I need air cover! Like now! Get your weapons online and hot, because I can’t hold them all off like this!”

  Once more, she was spinning out of the way of fire. She felt the jolt as the Raptor took a hit on one of the wings. Thankfully, from what she could see, it was only a glancing blow, but her stomach clenched tightly. Chowd returned fire at the same time she depressed the button again. Another couple of spooks retired, but she and Chowd were still seriously outnumbered. It wouldn’t matter how good she was, they could keep taking a beating and she’d eventually find her luck running out.

  Jemma was running low on firepower, her phaser banks sitting at just under thirty percent and laser missiles almost gone. Her shielding had also taken a battering, and she rerouted whatever she could to them.

  The front of the Elector started to glow, and she realized it was the shields and something else. Ah, they have the weapons online. She smiled grimly; that would even up the score some.

  The Elector shot off a guided rocket, hitting another spook and clearing the scene a little more. The glow intensified. She fired the phasers again, but this time, Raven’s voice came through the headset. “Jem, get me another half hour and I can be ready to move. Can you manage that?”

  “Raven, I don’t know that I have that much left in the tanks.” She was now concerned but was determined it wouldn’t show in her voice.

  “Chowd?”

  “I am also running low, Raven, but can hang on, I think. They’re more interested in neutralizing Jemma at the moment.” His voice was muffled, as if he was doing something else. “Jemma? I think that we need to get further away from the ship to allow for any safety margin. Draw them away. I would suggest we head toward that small planet.”

  A tiny dot of blue-gray hovered before her and Jemma nodded in agreement, even knowing none of the men could see her. Being in a huddle made the battle even more dangerous, as they dodged debris and flew close together. Right now any advantage and freedom to maneuver was welcome.

  Close quarters had worked out fine for the beginning of the engagement, as it had given the ability to pick of numerous enemies at once. Now with laser banks running low, she needed to change tactics, draw them out, while securing the safety of the Elector.

  “I agree. Time to boogie, Chowd. Follow my lead.” She accelerated the Raptor, taking the pirates by surprise.

  She knew the Elector would be fine, with their shields and weaponry online. In the back of her mind, she worried about her own ship. It had sustained heavy damage and would need to dock soon, otherwise…

  “Don’t go there right now, Jemma.” She swung over and around the spook ships, dodging and weaving up and down, avoiding contact. They were little and light looking, which meant their shielding was probably less effective too. Jemma spun a sharp turn again and snuck up behind one.

  The pilot worked hard, hopping around and trying to throw her off its tail, but she stuck like glue. The targeting computer beeped when it had the small craft in optimal position, and she fired two shots with the phaser. She felt no thrill when the ship exploded in front of her, spewing hunks of metal and catching her ship as she raced through it.

  Chowd was also dodging fields of debris, but while the larger body of the shuttle offered a larger target it was also far more flexible, turning tighter and moving faster. She had to push that thought away as she targeted the next craft, hopping in behind it. She pulled into their blindspot and hit them fast.

  “Jemma, get moving toward that planet. I think we can get them down into the atmosphere. Their craft are light and with less efficient shielding. They aren’t for dirtside, and I’m sure we can pick a few more off.”

  “You think?” The words slipped out and she nearly cur
sed.

  “Jemma? What’s wrong?”

  A red light had started beeping softly on her console, but she ignored it. “Nothing. Do you—”

  “Grayson sent me the coordinates. He’s been plotting out a possible course that’s defensible.” That was the kind of excellent teamwork she’d expect from the Elector, she thought. Yet even as her mind seized on it, she wondered if her own craft would survive what lay ahead.

  “Okay. Good thinking, Chowd. Let’s give that a go.” They started working toward the planet, zigging and zagging from side to side while other ships jerked and shuddered.

  A tremendous crack sounded and her ship heaved to one side. Jemma tugged and pulled it back upright. “Fuck!”

  “What’s your status?” Chowd demanded fiercely.

  “I’ve sustained some damage but am still in the air.”

  He didn’t need to know that the damage on her wing could potentially be a killer for her. At this point, it would only exacerbate the situation if anyone else knew.

  Something would come up, she hoped once more, spinning tightly to avoid laser fire, but the ship was now sluggish to react and she bit her lip. “I’m heading for the planet and going to try a dead drop through the atmosphere.”

  The closer they came, the more determined the spooks seemed to become, as if they’d worked out the plan and saw their death on the horizon. It was harder to get past them, and it occurred to her that perhaps they knew that once they hit the upper atmosphere they were in great danger of not surviving the re-entry pressures. Her misgivings about the Raptor moved up another notch as more alarms blared and flashed at her.

  She entered the atmosphere, washing off as much speed as she could, with Chowd right behind her. The burn of the entry caused an orange glow to form in her viewscreen as she struggled with the aging and damaged craft. The spooks followed. She could see them shimmying wildly, but they remained on her tail. Damn! They should be ready to give up by now. One tried to pull up, but the pressure ripped it apart like a paper plane, wings and nose spinning out of control. She held on grimly, fighting her own ailing craft.

 

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