Quarto
Unknown Enemy
Well, here it is. Chapter 3. Standard procedure applies. Read, post comments. If you read this and are confused, then you probably didn't read the first two chapters (that's happened before
). So go back and read them - and comment, of course.
For those of you who read this before... Well, it's mostly the same, except for a few cosmetic changes. Of course, the last part of the chapter had never been posted before, so don't be surprised if you don't recognise it
. That's right people, we're actually getting into the new stuff... Which means that I have no idea when the next chapter will be posted
.
Earthworm: Yes, I know the Ferret does not carry any missiles. But the P-64D Super Ferret that first appeared in WC2 SO1 carries two HS missiles. Obviously, this is a Super Ferret.
---------------------------------------------
III. A Bond of Daring.
Darkness all around, the little Ferret sped away from the Krak’ni’hra. Looking at the pale stars, Weaver grinned to himself. Out here, there was no doubt. No confusion. Just him and the enemy.
He turned to look behind him. The Kamekh was already disappearing in the distance. Just slightly closer, another faint light, moving towards him. The Broadsword. Obviously, the Kilrathi… What was his name? Whatever. Obviously, he would insist on flying too.
But not with me, Weaver thought. He switched the engines into full thrust. For a second, he toyed with the idea of the afterburners, but he finally decided that would be overkill; and a waste of fuel. Either way, the Broadsword had no chance in hell of catching up.
“Weaver?” A voice broke the silence. The Corvette was hailing him. “Slow down. Your wingman needs to catch up.”
“Didn’t copy that, Krak’ni’hra. Entering enemy territory. Gonna maintain comm silence.” Weaver replied, and promptly shut down his comm system. Back to silence.
He turned his attention to the flight map. It would be just a standard diamond patrol, checking the area ahead of the Krak’ni’hra, as it headed towards… exactly where were they headed, anyway? They were in the Canewdon system, in the very centre of Deneb. Apparently, they wouldn’t be staying in the system long – Paladin said they’d be heading deeper into Kilrathi space. Come to think of it, even Canewdon was Kilrathi space now. Nobody had announced this, of course. Word of Confed defeats usually didn’t get out for weeks. But he remembered that transport that came into Krieger just before he launched for that last mission. The transport – apparently a part of a much larger convoy – was packed with civilian refugees. And it identified itself as coming from the Deneb system. Which was also where the Confed headquarters for that sector had been. ‘Had been’ – but not any longer.
So what did this mean? Why were they going behind the enemy lines, even as the Kilrathi were consolidating in the sector? Ok, Weaver promised himself. Right after I return, I’m gonna sit down and listen to what Colonel… Colonel… dammit, I can remember… Colonel Taggart. That’s it. I’m gonna listen to what he has to say.
A smudge appeared, far on the horizon. Asteroids. Just to make sure, he looked back on his flight map. Indeed, he would be crossing an asteroid belt on his way to the first nav point. Nothing like a joyride through the rocks to wake one up, he thought. At least when you’re flying a nimble craft like the Ferret. Naturally, his Kilrathi wingman would not enjoy it as much. Not in the Broadsword. Speaking of which, how far behind was the Kilrathi, anyway? Weaver looked at his radar. No blue dots anywhere. He must have really gotten far behind. Good.
He was about to turn his gaze back towards the asteroids when a faint flicker on the radar caught his eye. On the edge of the screen, a grey blip had appeared. Several seconds passed, and then the blip turned red as his system identified its transmissions as hostile. Cautiously, he turned the Ferret towards the enemy ship and approached it. It seemed to be alone, about twenty thousand klicks from him.
Fifteen thousand klicks. He could see now that the enemy ship was slowly flying towards the asteroid belt. His computers identified it as a Jalkehi class heavy fighter. Strangely enough, the Kilrathi seemed not to have noticed Weaver yet.
Ten thousand klicks. Apparently, the Jalkehi still didn’t see him. Maybe? Lawrence strained his eyes, and… yes. The Kilrathi ship was barely even limping, and its engines seemed to be malfunctioning. Obviously, the Jalkehi was heavily damaged. It must have taken a missile in the tail; after all, its rear turret was also silent. He was probably planning to take cover in the belt, which was only about twenty thousand klicks off now.
Five thousand klicks. So, what now, Weaver wondered. Should he engage? It just didn’t seem right. The damaged craft wouldn’t even pose a threat. This was something Javelin might have done; murder an already-defeated foe. On the other hand, the Jalkehi was enemy. What if he reported back to his base? The whole area would soon be swarming with Kilrathi.
Four thousand klicks. The Jalkehi was still doggedly moving towards the rocks, as if it hadn’t noticed him at all. Or has it? The Kilrathi might have been trying to mislead him; make him believe he was flying blind – not worth attacking.
Dammit, this isn’t right, Weaver thought. But, what choice do I have? If the Jalkehi was to report back, the whole mission – whatever it was – would have to be scrapped. With a sigh, he armed a heat-seeker. Acquiring a target lock would be no problem. Within a few seconds, it would be all over. He watched intently as the targeter on his HUD moved towards the Kilrathi ship. Almost there… Lawrence flipped the cap off from the top of the flight stick. He put his finger on the button that had been hidden beneath the cap…
What the? Suddenly, the Kilrathi craft switched to afterburners and looped back on him. The lock was lost. Weaver stared in shock as the Jalkehi fired its guns on him. A sudden and obvious realisation came over him. The enemy ship was not damaged. He’d been tricked, and now it was too late to pull away.
He yanked the controls to the side, switching his own afterburners on. The two ships swept past each other rapidly, and the Jalkehi’s guns all missed. He kept the burners on, quickly increasing the distance between the two ships. The Jalkehi class had a nasty rear turret, and he had no doubt that this one’s turret was also fully functional. This was confirmed a second later, when a blast of neutrons hit his rear shields. The shields held – barely.
He blazed on towards the asteroids. In the rocks, his Ferret would have an immense advantage over the heavy fighter.
The Jalkehi was now on his tail, though it was rapidly falling behind. It fired its particle cannons once more, but a quick barrel roll saved Weaver from turning into space debris.
This guy isn’t really that good, Lawrence thought. He turned his Ferret back towards the Jalkehi. Afterburning around an asteroid belt wasn’t worth risking for scum like this. The Kilrathi, obviously caught by surprise, kept flying straight towards him, particle cannons blazing. Weaver fired a volley from his own guns – fortunately the Jalkehi was so big a target that even he could draw a bead on it. The enemy’s shields crackled, but did not collapse. It was going to take a lot more than that, Lawrence realised, even as he fired once more. A quick roll to avoid the Jalkehi’s own fire, and then another volley. The cat’s shields were almost down now. If he could manage another volley before the two ships passed by each other…
A warning indicator. He glanced at his shields display. The rear shields were down. Suddenly, a blast of neutrons rocked the ship, tearing deep into its armour.
“Dammit!” Weaver yelled, going back into afterburners and swinging the ship out of the attack run. He looked at his radar, which promptly confirmed the reality of the situation. While he had been playing with the Jalkehi, three Kilrathi light fighters had appeared out of the asteroid belt. The whole thing was a well-orchestrated ambush, he realised.
Well, thought the Lieutenant, let’s give ‘em a run for their money. Once again, he turned towards the asteroid belt. In this particular case, a joyride through the belt WAS preferable to fighting in the open. As he burnt towards the rocks, he glanced sadly at the targeting display. The Jalkehi’s shields were almost completely back up now. All that work for nothing… but right now, he had other things on his mind. Like survival.
On and on he flew – the distance seemed to have doubled, now that his life depended on it. Twisting yet again, he avoided another burst of neutrons. Finally, he slipped into the belt, narrowly avoiding collision with an asteroid.
He breathed a sigh of relief, and shut down the afterburners – this would be dangerous enough without them. Fortunately, the Kilrathi seemed reluctant to follow him amongst the rocks. He would be relatively safe here – as safe as one can be in an asteroid belt, anyway.
So, what now? He glanced around the cabin. Everything seemed to be working. Apparently the rear armour managed to withstand the damage. Except that now there was hardly any rear armour left. And the fuel gauge was down to halfway. Well, so much for his first – second, actually – combat mission. He hadn’t even reached the first nav point.
Either way, the Kilrathi were still there. If he wanted to go home – ever – he’d have to kill them. But that was much easier said then done. One against four, his chances of survival would be fairly slim. Probably, he could force the first two into a collision, like he did all those years ago. But the two remaining fighters would still be more than a match, and they wouldn’t fall for the trick again. Damn, but where’s a wingman when you need one?
He had no choice though. He turned around and flew back to the edge of the asteroids, where the Kilrathi awaited. He swept right past them with a blast of afterburners, and turned on them before they could react.
A volley from the Ferret’s guns tore into one of the Sartha class light fighters as the Kilrathi ships scattered. Unfortunately, most of the shots missed their mark, and the Sartha’s shields held. The others meanwhile, had already spread out and were coming at him from every direction.
A warning signal. Missile lock, Weaver realised as he looked for the source of the signal. Sure enough, the Jalkehi had fired off a missile. Where… there it was! Lawrence turned sharply and went to afterburners. The missile flew right past him, and seemed to lose lock. He turned his attention back to the Sartha and fired off another volley… dammit! The missile hadn’t lost the lock after all. A quick roll saved him from it again, but it was already turning back towards him. Would it miss the third time?
A blast of purple energy swept past the ship. The Jalkehi! It had sneaked onto his tail while he was busy with the missile. But… that’s it, Weaver realised. He turned once more and headed straight towards the Jalkehi on afterburners, his guns blaring.
The two ships flew straight towards each other, seemingly about to collide. The Jalkehi’s guns ripped into the Ferret’s shields, and then started shredding the armour. His ship wouldn’t take much more damage, Weaver realised. But still, he kept going, blasting away at the Jalkehi’s shields. Two thousand metres.
One thousand. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that a red light had appeared on his dashboard. One or two more blasts. That’s all it would take…
Three hundred. Suddenly, Weaver swung the controls to the side. The Ferret swept past the Kilrathi fighter, missing by just a few inches. But the Jalkehi’s own missile didn’t. It slammed straight into the cat. The Jalkehi’s front shields buckled under the pressure and then…
“Yes!” Weaver exclaimed, as the enemy ship’s cabin collapsed in the explosion. Rapidly, the whole ship was caught up in the blast as the Kilrathi’s other missiles also exploded. In a split second, the Jalkehi ceased to exist.
Unfortunately, there were still the three Sarthas left. Looking about the cabin, the Lieutenant realised his ship was in no shape for dogfighting. Most of his armour was gone, and his shield generators were working overtime to get the shields back up. Could the power generator handle the additional strain?
He pulled another quick evasive as the three Kilrathi fired at him once more. Yet another barrel roll. More afterburners. He tried to fight back, but he was forced to take more evasives. No time to aim when you’re struggling to survive.
Suddenly, one of the Kilrathi fighters disappeared off the radar. What? He risked a quick glance in that direction. All that was left from the Sartha was bits of debris. Weaver turned back to the radar in confusion. Two red blips, and a blue one. A blue one? The Broadsword!
The two Sartha had also noticed the Broadsword by now. They abandoned Weaver and went after this new target. Unfortunately for them, the new target had teeth. The Broadsword turned towards one of them, blasting away with its three mass drivers.
Finally free from enemy fire, Weaver now also turned on the Sarthas. He afterburned towards one of them, arming a heat seeker. Three… two… one… lock! Before the Kilrathi realised what was going on, the missile had already caught up with him. The fragile little craft was gone in an instant.
They both now turned on the last Sartha, Broadsword and Ferret firing in unison. The Kilrathi haplessly tried all sorts of evasives, but to no avail. Weaver mostly missed, but it looked as though the pilot in the Broadsword was an expert gunner. Lawrence watched with admiration as the Broadsword’s cannons blasted through the cat’s shields, and finally into his power plant. The Sartha exploded, showering their ships with debris.
It was over.
He looked at the various displays around him. The ship was barely holding together, he realised. One or two more shots – that’s all it would have taken. Had the Broadsword caught up just a few moments later, it may well have found only debris.
“Hey...” What was the Kilrathi’s name? No idea. “Thanks.” He spoke into the mike.
Silence. “What the?” Weaver wondered. Had the comm system gone down? That would be inconvenient, to say the least. But the computer indicated no damage to communications. He tapped the screen with his finger. No change. What if the computer itself was damaged? Once again, he tapped the screen. The result was a slight flicker, but not much else. Maybe a cable had burnt through somewhere? He looked about the cabin... no, wait. That’s right, he thought, grinning to himself. I’m an idiot.
He flicked the comm system switch – which just happened to be sitting there in the off position, seemingly mocking him. The system rewarded him with a short burst of static, and then a Kilrathi voice.
“...vher. Camh inh!”
“Yeah, I’m here.” He replied, and switched on the visual, still grinning. “Sorry about that. I had the comm system off.”
“Thath do’snh’th seemh whise.” The Kilrathi replied. And though his voice was stern, Weaver thought he saw a faint glimmer of amusement in the feline’s eyes.
“Perhaps not. But it seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, thanks... uh...”
“Yhou do noth r’mm’ber my nhame, do yhou?” The Kilrathi now grinned. Obviously he had been warned about this particular trait. “I amh Rhe’dhi. Yhourh wingh manh.” There was a slight emphasis on the ‘your’, Lawrence noted.
“Yeah... sorry about that too.” He replied, though he didn’t really feel sorry. The Kilrathi had saved his life, but could he really trust him? “Anyway, I’m...”
“I havh no throubl r’mm’bring nhames.” Rhe’dhi interrupted him. “Yhou arh Wee-vher.”
“Er... Weaver.”
“Wea-vhur?”
“WeaVER.”
“Weever?”
“WEAver!”
“Weaver?”
“Yeah, Weaver.” Lawrence grinned. “Now you’ve got it.”
“I willh thry tho r’mm’berh thath, if you whouldh r’mm’berh mhy nhame.”
Well, it looked as though they’d be flying together for a while. It’s only fair that he should remember whom he’s flying with. “All, right. Deal.”
“Goodh. Buth I thinkh, purrhaps ‘ts thime tho go onh.”
“Well...” Weaver faltered, looking around his cabin. The ship WAS badly damaged. But then, he wouldn’t be flying alone. And if they didn’t do this, the whole operation – whatever it was about – would probably have to be scrapped. “All right then. Are you ready?”
“Yhess. Bhat yho say it Rhe’dhi.”
“No, I mean ready – prepared. Willing to go on.”
“Ah. Mhy mhisthak’hh.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it. Let’s go.” And he turned his Ferret towards the asteroid belt once again. But this time, he was not alone.
* * *
With a loud whoosh, the airlock hatch opened above him. He clambered out of the cockpit, up into the belly of the Kamekh. The ladder soon led him to another hatch. As before, the locking mechanism worked perfectly. Within seconds, the hatch below him had been sealed and the one above him was open.
It was with great relief that Weaver climbed those last few rungs that would lead him into the safety of the Krak’ni’hra. They had not encountered any more Kilrathi fighters during the patrol, but that was not to say that the rest of the flight was uneventful. As it turned out, the computer systems aboard his Ferret had taken damage after all, and the flight controls worked only intermittently. He shuddered, recalling how close he came to death when the controls wouldn’t respond in the middle of the asteroid belt.
Still, they had finally made it back, and this mission could be considered successful. Grinning, he pulled himself out of the hatch, only to slam his head into a pair of feet.
“I wouldna take off the suit if I were ye, lad.” Paladin’s voice came from above him. The tone of this voice was such that Weaver froze right there. He would have slid right back into the airlock, but Paladin reached down and pulled him out, onto his feet. “You’re going back out there.”
“Sir?” Lawrence stared into the face of his commander.
“Well, how else d’ye think you’re gonna repair yer ship? We haven’t got the facilities to do otherwise – so pick up the tools and the parts, and get out into the vacuum.”
“Sir, I’ve never... I mean...”
“Ye’ve taken the course, like ev’ry one else. It’s high time ye give ‘t a try! If you’re gonna wreck a ship, it’s only fair that ye fix it.” Without much ceremony, Colonel Taggart dumped a box of tools into Weaver’s arms. “The rest is already in the elevator. Now get going!”
“Yes, sir!” Lawrence would have saluted him, if it weren’t for the box in his arms.
Paladin gave him one more frosty look, then turned on his heel and strode out of the chamber. “Oh, and don’t think that’s all.” He added, as he opened the door. “We’ll talk later!”
Weaver shuddered at the word ‘later’. Surely Paladin understood... ah, whatever. I’d best get on with this, Lawrence thought as he entered the elevator door. With the flick of a switch, the elevator silently descended out beyond the main hull, where it opened to reveal another airlock. Once more, Weaver put on his helmet. He checked the suit’s life support systems and oxygen level – it all checked out. Opening the door, he entered the airlock, pushing several crates in with him – he figured these must be the spare parts Paladin told him to take. Finally, the door locked behind him. With a final sigh, he pressed the button that would open the last door, leading him out into space.
Slowly, the airlock was depressurised as its air was sucked back into the ship through several pipes. At last, the door in front of him opened.
Weaver cautiously pulled himself out of the airlock, careful not to move too quickly – his training in zero-g had been only cursory. He looked at the Kilrathi Corvette that seemingly floated right above him. Up close and personal, the Krak’ni’hra seemed huge, and downright invincible. Its rust-coloured mass caught the rays of a distant star, creating incredible patterns of reflections all across the ship. He admired them for several seconds, but finally had to turn away from this dazzling sight. Then he turned his eyes to the vast and open horizons below him. This vacuum was something he was altogether used to – he felt comfortable in it, in fact. And yet, this time he was not in a ship... He shuddered at the thought of floating out there, alone.
Finally, Weaver’s thoughts turned back to the task at hand. Though he had some training in spacecraft repair, this would be the first time he would be doing it alone. Well, it couldn’t be too hard. After all, he thought, the Ferret is a tiny ship. Just how much damage could it possibly have taken?
He pushed himself down, away from the airlock. As he did so, his battered ship slowly came into sight.
“Oh, my… God. This can’t be true.” Lawrence stared in disbelief at what was left of his Ferret. The fighter had lost most of the forward armour plating. In some spots, he could see right through the ship. Slowly, his gaze moved on along the spacecraft. The cabin was just about all right – but here too, there were various scorch marks. Beyond the cabin, lay the engines. With shock, he realised that here too, the armour plates had been nearly totally blasted off.
One more solid hit, he thought as he floated towards the trashed ship. Just one more solid hit, and that would have been it. Had the Kilrathi arrived even a few seconds later he would have found...
And suddenly he understood why it was that Paladin was so angry. Beneath his helmet, his face turned pale – of shame, or perhaps fear.
But what’s done is done, he thought as he grabbed at the Ferret’s wing. Deftly, he pulled himself right up to the fighter, anchoring himself to it with another cable – the first being attached to the Kamekh. “First things first then,” He muttered to himself as he carefully inspected the nose cone. “I’m gonna need some of those spare parts. Yep, lots of spare parts.” He turned back towards the airlock – and then he saw him. The Kilrathi – no human could have possibly worn a space suit that large – hovered just outside the airlock.
“Yho mhayh nead sumh hhelhph.” Rhe’dhi’s voice came through the suit’s comm system, even as the Kilrathi propelled himself and two crates towards the Ferret.
“Uh...” Weaver faltered in uncertainty. “Um... you’re right.” He finally said. “I’d like you to help me here.”
“Ghlhadlhi.” Came the reply.
“...But this doesn’t change anything – I still fly alone, all right?” The Lieutenant quickly added, his voice still slightly uncertain.
“Why, Ih whoulhd nevher thry tho changhe thath.” But beneath his helmet, Rhe’dhi concealed a smile.
---------------------------------------------
All done. Go ahead and comment.
For those of you who read this before... Well, it's mostly the same, except for a few cosmetic changes. Of course, the last part of the chapter had never been posted before, so don't be surprised if you don't recognise it
Earthworm: Yes, I know the Ferret does not carry any missiles. But the P-64D Super Ferret that first appeared in WC2 SO1 carries two HS missiles. Obviously, this is a Super Ferret.
---------------------------------------------
III. A Bond of Daring.
Darkness all around, the little Ferret sped away from the Krak’ni’hra. Looking at the pale stars, Weaver grinned to himself. Out here, there was no doubt. No confusion. Just him and the enemy.
He turned to look behind him. The Kamekh was already disappearing in the distance. Just slightly closer, another faint light, moving towards him. The Broadsword. Obviously, the Kilrathi… What was his name? Whatever. Obviously, he would insist on flying too.
But not with me, Weaver thought. He switched the engines into full thrust. For a second, he toyed with the idea of the afterburners, but he finally decided that would be overkill; and a waste of fuel. Either way, the Broadsword had no chance in hell of catching up.
“Weaver?” A voice broke the silence. The Corvette was hailing him. “Slow down. Your wingman needs to catch up.”
“Didn’t copy that, Krak’ni’hra. Entering enemy territory. Gonna maintain comm silence.” Weaver replied, and promptly shut down his comm system. Back to silence.
He turned his attention to the flight map. It would be just a standard diamond patrol, checking the area ahead of the Krak’ni’hra, as it headed towards… exactly where were they headed, anyway? They were in the Canewdon system, in the very centre of Deneb. Apparently, they wouldn’t be staying in the system long – Paladin said they’d be heading deeper into Kilrathi space. Come to think of it, even Canewdon was Kilrathi space now. Nobody had announced this, of course. Word of Confed defeats usually didn’t get out for weeks. But he remembered that transport that came into Krieger just before he launched for that last mission. The transport – apparently a part of a much larger convoy – was packed with civilian refugees. And it identified itself as coming from the Deneb system. Which was also where the Confed headquarters for that sector had been. ‘Had been’ – but not any longer.
So what did this mean? Why were they going behind the enemy lines, even as the Kilrathi were consolidating in the sector? Ok, Weaver promised himself. Right after I return, I’m gonna sit down and listen to what Colonel… Colonel… dammit, I can remember… Colonel Taggart. That’s it. I’m gonna listen to what he has to say.
A smudge appeared, far on the horizon. Asteroids. Just to make sure, he looked back on his flight map. Indeed, he would be crossing an asteroid belt on his way to the first nav point. Nothing like a joyride through the rocks to wake one up, he thought. At least when you’re flying a nimble craft like the Ferret. Naturally, his Kilrathi wingman would not enjoy it as much. Not in the Broadsword. Speaking of which, how far behind was the Kilrathi, anyway? Weaver looked at his radar. No blue dots anywhere. He must have really gotten far behind. Good.
He was about to turn his gaze back towards the asteroids when a faint flicker on the radar caught his eye. On the edge of the screen, a grey blip had appeared. Several seconds passed, and then the blip turned red as his system identified its transmissions as hostile. Cautiously, he turned the Ferret towards the enemy ship and approached it. It seemed to be alone, about twenty thousand klicks from him.
Fifteen thousand klicks. He could see now that the enemy ship was slowly flying towards the asteroid belt. His computers identified it as a Jalkehi class heavy fighter. Strangely enough, the Kilrathi seemed not to have noticed Weaver yet.
Ten thousand klicks. Apparently, the Jalkehi still didn’t see him. Maybe? Lawrence strained his eyes, and… yes. The Kilrathi ship was barely even limping, and its engines seemed to be malfunctioning. Obviously, the Jalkehi was heavily damaged. It must have taken a missile in the tail; after all, its rear turret was also silent. He was probably planning to take cover in the belt, which was only about twenty thousand klicks off now.
Five thousand klicks. So, what now, Weaver wondered. Should he engage? It just didn’t seem right. The damaged craft wouldn’t even pose a threat. This was something Javelin might have done; murder an already-defeated foe. On the other hand, the Jalkehi was enemy. What if he reported back to his base? The whole area would soon be swarming with Kilrathi.
Four thousand klicks. The Jalkehi was still doggedly moving towards the rocks, as if it hadn’t noticed him at all. Or has it? The Kilrathi might have been trying to mislead him; make him believe he was flying blind – not worth attacking.
Dammit, this isn’t right, Weaver thought. But, what choice do I have? If the Jalkehi was to report back, the whole mission – whatever it was – would have to be scrapped. With a sigh, he armed a heat-seeker. Acquiring a target lock would be no problem. Within a few seconds, it would be all over. He watched intently as the targeter on his HUD moved towards the Kilrathi ship. Almost there… Lawrence flipped the cap off from the top of the flight stick. He put his finger on the button that had been hidden beneath the cap…
What the? Suddenly, the Kilrathi craft switched to afterburners and looped back on him. The lock was lost. Weaver stared in shock as the Jalkehi fired its guns on him. A sudden and obvious realisation came over him. The enemy ship was not damaged. He’d been tricked, and now it was too late to pull away.
He yanked the controls to the side, switching his own afterburners on. The two ships swept past each other rapidly, and the Jalkehi’s guns all missed. He kept the burners on, quickly increasing the distance between the two ships. The Jalkehi class had a nasty rear turret, and he had no doubt that this one’s turret was also fully functional. This was confirmed a second later, when a blast of neutrons hit his rear shields. The shields held – barely.
He blazed on towards the asteroids. In the rocks, his Ferret would have an immense advantage over the heavy fighter.
The Jalkehi was now on his tail, though it was rapidly falling behind. It fired its particle cannons once more, but a quick barrel roll saved Weaver from turning into space debris.
This guy isn’t really that good, Lawrence thought. He turned his Ferret back towards the Jalkehi. Afterburning around an asteroid belt wasn’t worth risking for scum like this. The Kilrathi, obviously caught by surprise, kept flying straight towards him, particle cannons blazing. Weaver fired a volley from his own guns – fortunately the Jalkehi was so big a target that even he could draw a bead on it. The enemy’s shields crackled, but did not collapse. It was going to take a lot more than that, Lawrence realised, even as he fired once more. A quick roll to avoid the Jalkehi’s own fire, and then another volley. The cat’s shields were almost down now. If he could manage another volley before the two ships passed by each other…
A warning indicator. He glanced at his shields display. The rear shields were down. Suddenly, a blast of neutrons rocked the ship, tearing deep into its armour.
“Dammit!” Weaver yelled, going back into afterburners and swinging the ship out of the attack run. He looked at his radar, which promptly confirmed the reality of the situation. While he had been playing with the Jalkehi, three Kilrathi light fighters had appeared out of the asteroid belt. The whole thing was a well-orchestrated ambush, he realised.
Well, thought the Lieutenant, let’s give ‘em a run for their money. Once again, he turned towards the asteroid belt. In this particular case, a joyride through the belt WAS preferable to fighting in the open. As he burnt towards the rocks, he glanced sadly at the targeting display. The Jalkehi’s shields were almost completely back up now. All that work for nothing… but right now, he had other things on his mind. Like survival.
On and on he flew – the distance seemed to have doubled, now that his life depended on it. Twisting yet again, he avoided another burst of neutrons. Finally, he slipped into the belt, narrowly avoiding collision with an asteroid.
He breathed a sigh of relief, and shut down the afterburners – this would be dangerous enough without them. Fortunately, the Kilrathi seemed reluctant to follow him amongst the rocks. He would be relatively safe here – as safe as one can be in an asteroid belt, anyway.
So, what now? He glanced around the cabin. Everything seemed to be working. Apparently the rear armour managed to withstand the damage. Except that now there was hardly any rear armour left. And the fuel gauge was down to halfway. Well, so much for his first – second, actually – combat mission. He hadn’t even reached the first nav point.
Either way, the Kilrathi were still there. If he wanted to go home – ever – he’d have to kill them. But that was much easier said then done. One against four, his chances of survival would be fairly slim. Probably, he could force the first two into a collision, like he did all those years ago. But the two remaining fighters would still be more than a match, and they wouldn’t fall for the trick again. Damn, but where’s a wingman when you need one?
He had no choice though. He turned around and flew back to the edge of the asteroids, where the Kilrathi awaited. He swept right past them with a blast of afterburners, and turned on them before they could react.
A volley from the Ferret’s guns tore into one of the Sartha class light fighters as the Kilrathi ships scattered. Unfortunately, most of the shots missed their mark, and the Sartha’s shields held. The others meanwhile, had already spread out and were coming at him from every direction.
A warning signal. Missile lock, Weaver realised as he looked for the source of the signal. Sure enough, the Jalkehi had fired off a missile. Where… there it was! Lawrence turned sharply and went to afterburners. The missile flew right past him, and seemed to lose lock. He turned his attention back to the Sartha and fired off another volley… dammit! The missile hadn’t lost the lock after all. A quick roll saved him from it again, but it was already turning back towards him. Would it miss the third time?
A blast of purple energy swept past the ship. The Jalkehi! It had sneaked onto his tail while he was busy with the missile. But… that’s it, Weaver realised. He turned once more and headed straight towards the Jalkehi on afterburners, his guns blaring.
The two ships flew straight towards each other, seemingly about to collide. The Jalkehi’s guns ripped into the Ferret’s shields, and then started shredding the armour. His ship wouldn’t take much more damage, Weaver realised. But still, he kept going, blasting away at the Jalkehi’s shields. Two thousand metres.
One thousand. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that a red light had appeared on his dashboard. One or two more blasts. That’s all it would take…
Three hundred. Suddenly, Weaver swung the controls to the side. The Ferret swept past the Kilrathi fighter, missing by just a few inches. But the Jalkehi’s own missile didn’t. It slammed straight into the cat. The Jalkehi’s front shields buckled under the pressure and then…
“Yes!” Weaver exclaimed, as the enemy ship’s cabin collapsed in the explosion. Rapidly, the whole ship was caught up in the blast as the Kilrathi’s other missiles also exploded. In a split second, the Jalkehi ceased to exist.
Unfortunately, there were still the three Sarthas left. Looking about the cabin, the Lieutenant realised his ship was in no shape for dogfighting. Most of his armour was gone, and his shield generators were working overtime to get the shields back up. Could the power generator handle the additional strain?
He pulled another quick evasive as the three Kilrathi fired at him once more. Yet another barrel roll. More afterburners. He tried to fight back, but he was forced to take more evasives. No time to aim when you’re struggling to survive.
Suddenly, one of the Kilrathi fighters disappeared off the radar. What? He risked a quick glance in that direction. All that was left from the Sartha was bits of debris. Weaver turned back to the radar in confusion. Two red blips, and a blue one. A blue one? The Broadsword!
The two Sartha had also noticed the Broadsword by now. They abandoned Weaver and went after this new target. Unfortunately for them, the new target had teeth. The Broadsword turned towards one of them, blasting away with its three mass drivers.
Finally free from enemy fire, Weaver now also turned on the Sarthas. He afterburned towards one of them, arming a heat seeker. Three… two… one… lock! Before the Kilrathi realised what was going on, the missile had already caught up with him. The fragile little craft was gone in an instant.
They both now turned on the last Sartha, Broadsword and Ferret firing in unison. The Kilrathi haplessly tried all sorts of evasives, but to no avail. Weaver mostly missed, but it looked as though the pilot in the Broadsword was an expert gunner. Lawrence watched with admiration as the Broadsword’s cannons blasted through the cat’s shields, and finally into his power plant. The Sartha exploded, showering their ships with debris.
It was over.
He looked at the various displays around him. The ship was barely holding together, he realised. One or two more shots – that’s all it would have taken. Had the Broadsword caught up just a few moments later, it may well have found only debris.
“Hey...” What was the Kilrathi’s name? No idea. “Thanks.” He spoke into the mike.
Silence. “What the?” Weaver wondered. Had the comm system gone down? That would be inconvenient, to say the least. But the computer indicated no damage to communications. He tapped the screen with his finger. No change. What if the computer itself was damaged? Once again, he tapped the screen. The result was a slight flicker, but not much else. Maybe a cable had burnt through somewhere? He looked about the cabin... no, wait. That’s right, he thought, grinning to himself. I’m an idiot.
He flicked the comm system switch – which just happened to be sitting there in the off position, seemingly mocking him. The system rewarded him with a short burst of static, and then a Kilrathi voice.
“...vher. Camh inh!”
“Yeah, I’m here.” He replied, and switched on the visual, still grinning. “Sorry about that. I had the comm system off.”
“Thath do’snh’th seemh whise.” The Kilrathi replied. And though his voice was stern, Weaver thought he saw a faint glimmer of amusement in the feline’s eyes.
“Perhaps not. But it seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, thanks... uh...”
“Yhou do noth r’mm’ber my nhame, do yhou?” The Kilrathi now grinned. Obviously he had been warned about this particular trait. “I amh Rhe’dhi. Yhourh wingh manh.” There was a slight emphasis on the ‘your’, Lawrence noted.
“Yeah... sorry about that too.” He replied, though he didn’t really feel sorry. The Kilrathi had saved his life, but could he really trust him? “Anyway, I’m...”
“I havh no throubl r’mm’bring nhames.” Rhe’dhi interrupted him. “Yhou arh Wee-vher.”
“Er... Weaver.”
“Wea-vhur?”
“WeaVER.”
“Weever?”
“WEAver!”
“Weaver?”
“Yeah, Weaver.” Lawrence grinned. “Now you’ve got it.”
“I willh thry tho r’mm’berh thath, if you whouldh r’mm’berh mhy nhame.”
Well, it looked as though they’d be flying together for a while. It’s only fair that he should remember whom he’s flying with. “All, right. Deal.”
“Goodh. Buth I thinkh, purrhaps ‘ts thime tho go onh.”
“Well...” Weaver faltered, looking around his cabin. The ship WAS badly damaged. But then, he wouldn’t be flying alone. And if they didn’t do this, the whole operation – whatever it was about – would probably have to be scrapped. “All right then. Are you ready?”
“Yhess. Bhat yho say it Rhe’dhi.”
“No, I mean ready – prepared. Willing to go on.”
“Ah. Mhy mhisthak’hh.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it. Let’s go.” And he turned his Ferret towards the asteroid belt once again. But this time, he was not alone.
* * *
With a loud whoosh, the airlock hatch opened above him. He clambered out of the cockpit, up into the belly of the Kamekh. The ladder soon led him to another hatch. As before, the locking mechanism worked perfectly. Within seconds, the hatch below him had been sealed and the one above him was open.
It was with great relief that Weaver climbed those last few rungs that would lead him into the safety of the Krak’ni’hra. They had not encountered any more Kilrathi fighters during the patrol, but that was not to say that the rest of the flight was uneventful. As it turned out, the computer systems aboard his Ferret had taken damage after all, and the flight controls worked only intermittently. He shuddered, recalling how close he came to death when the controls wouldn’t respond in the middle of the asteroid belt.
Still, they had finally made it back, and this mission could be considered successful. Grinning, he pulled himself out of the hatch, only to slam his head into a pair of feet.
“I wouldna take off the suit if I were ye, lad.” Paladin’s voice came from above him. The tone of this voice was such that Weaver froze right there. He would have slid right back into the airlock, but Paladin reached down and pulled him out, onto his feet. “You’re going back out there.”
“Sir?” Lawrence stared into the face of his commander.
“Well, how else d’ye think you’re gonna repair yer ship? We haven’t got the facilities to do otherwise – so pick up the tools and the parts, and get out into the vacuum.”
“Sir, I’ve never... I mean...”
“Ye’ve taken the course, like ev’ry one else. It’s high time ye give ‘t a try! If you’re gonna wreck a ship, it’s only fair that ye fix it.” Without much ceremony, Colonel Taggart dumped a box of tools into Weaver’s arms. “The rest is already in the elevator. Now get going!”
“Yes, sir!” Lawrence would have saluted him, if it weren’t for the box in his arms.
Paladin gave him one more frosty look, then turned on his heel and strode out of the chamber. “Oh, and don’t think that’s all.” He added, as he opened the door. “We’ll talk later!”
Weaver shuddered at the word ‘later’. Surely Paladin understood... ah, whatever. I’d best get on with this, Lawrence thought as he entered the elevator door. With the flick of a switch, the elevator silently descended out beyond the main hull, where it opened to reveal another airlock. Once more, Weaver put on his helmet. He checked the suit’s life support systems and oxygen level – it all checked out. Opening the door, he entered the airlock, pushing several crates in with him – he figured these must be the spare parts Paladin told him to take. Finally, the door locked behind him. With a final sigh, he pressed the button that would open the last door, leading him out into space.
Slowly, the airlock was depressurised as its air was sucked back into the ship through several pipes. At last, the door in front of him opened.
Weaver cautiously pulled himself out of the airlock, careful not to move too quickly – his training in zero-g had been only cursory. He looked at the Kilrathi Corvette that seemingly floated right above him. Up close and personal, the Krak’ni’hra seemed huge, and downright invincible. Its rust-coloured mass caught the rays of a distant star, creating incredible patterns of reflections all across the ship. He admired them for several seconds, but finally had to turn away from this dazzling sight. Then he turned his eyes to the vast and open horizons below him. This vacuum was something he was altogether used to – he felt comfortable in it, in fact. And yet, this time he was not in a ship... He shuddered at the thought of floating out there, alone.
Finally, Weaver’s thoughts turned back to the task at hand. Though he had some training in spacecraft repair, this would be the first time he would be doing it alone. Well, it couldn’t be too hard. After all, he thought, the Ferret is a tiny ship. Just how much damage could it possibly have taken?
He pushed himself down, away from the airlock. As he did so, his battered ship slowly came into sight.
“Oh, my… God. This can’t be true.” Lawrence stared in disbelief at what was left of his Ferret. The fighter had lost most of the forward armour plating. In some spots, he could see right through the ship. Slowly, his gaze moved on along the spacecraft. The cabin was just about all right – but here too, there were various scorch marks. Beyond the cabin, lay the engines. With shock, he realised that here too, the armour plates had been nearly totally blasted off.
One more solid hit, he thought as he floated towards the trashed ship. Just one more solid hit, and that would have been it. Had the Kilrathi arrived even a few seconds later he would have found...
And suddenly he understood why it was that Paladin was so angry. Beneath his helmet, his face turned pale – of shame, or perhaps fear.
But what’s done is done, he thought as he grabbed at the Ferret’s wing. Deftly, he pulled himself right up to the fighter, anchoring himself to it with another cable – the first being attached to the Kamekh. “First things first then,” He muttered to himself as he carefully inspected the nose cone. “I’m gonna need some of those spare parts. Yep, lots of spare parts.” He turned back towards the airlock – and then he saw him. The Kilrathi – no human could have possibly worn a space suit that large – hovered just outside the airlock.
“Yho mhayh nead sumh hhelhph.” Rhe’dhi’s voice came through the suit’s comm system, even as the Kilrathi propelled himself and two crates towards the Ferret.
“Uh...” Weaver faltered in uncertainty. “Um... you’re right.” He finally said. “I’d like you to help me here.”
“Ghlhadlhi.” Came the reply.
“...But this doesn’t change anything – I still fly alone, all right?” The Lieutenant quickly added, his voice still slightly uncertain.
“Why, Ih whoulhd nevher thry tho changhe thath.” But beneath his helmet, Rhe’dhi concealed a smile.
---------------------------------------------
All done. Go ahead and comment.
