The Infiltrator

Tristan's Legacy: Part 1

By Joseph W. Joiner

"Starlight, starbright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight."

A soft laugh and a mechanical sound of gears and servos from behind her made the tall woman standing at the viewport turn to see who was intruding upon her quiet time. "I never thought you the kind to wish on stars, Karina," her visitor said.

Karina Tristan tried to hide her embarrassment by trying to look angry, then smiled when she realized that he would see through whatever mask she put on. He'd known her far too long. "Today I'll take any help I can get, Jason. It's not every day we test a new ship."

To anyone unfamiliar with him, Jason Trage was a monstrosity. Part man, part machine, what remained of his body was overshadowed by the mechanical components that had replaced his arms and legs and part of his torso. While his movements as he approached her appeared clumsy and slow, his new body could move incredibly fast and with agility no human being would ever know, and he possessed the strength of more than twenty strong men.

Thick strands of long white hair fell around his shoulders. She knew that at one time that hair had been the color of deepest night, but the events leading up to his transformation had drained the color completely. He didn't seem to mind, in fact, he almost relished the nickname people whispered behind his back. El esp�ritu m�quina. The ghost machine.

His appearance had never troubled her. It had been her people that found what was left of him drifting in a damaged rescue pod in space far from Earth. It had been her scientists that took what little life that remained and salvaged it into the thing he had become. He lived now with but one thing on his mind.

Vengeance.

Having been given a chance to account for the evil done to him, he was also fiercely loyal to her as the person responsible for that chance. Jason Trage called no man friend, but one woman had earned that privilege.

He stood next to her at the port. Karina was a tall woman, but Trage towered over her. Knowing how she hated looking up, he collapsed his leg-units until they stood eye- to-eye. "I've seen the specs on the Raider. If it lives up to your expectations, it will outperform anything currently available to Christiansen. I almost wish the bastard was here so I could see the expression on his face when the ship launches."

"Simon has spies everywhere. You can be sure he knows what's going on." A soft chime sounded from her belt, and she lifted her PDU (personal data unit), opened the cover and studied the display. "They've finished with pre-flight systems checks," she said. "All they need now is the pilot."

He glanced at the PDU and read the name displayed. "An unusual choice for this mission," he remarked. "Are you certain this is the right pilot for the job?"

Snapping the PDU closed she shrugged. "I never considered another. I'm convinced this is the only pilot capable of finding out what we need to know and get back alive."

Another chime sounded, this time from the door. Karina glanced at Jason, and he backed away until the shadows concealed his presence. "Enter," she said. The door slid open silently, revealing a small figure in a flight suit and sunglasses. "Come in, Captain. We need to talk before you take off."

The woman stepped into the room and snapped a salute. "Captain Melissa Malueg reporting for duty, ma'am."

Karina waved her off. "You are in the private sector now, Captain. Formalities like salutes are not necessary here."

"Yes, ma'am," Malueg said, but Karina could see that her suggestion would probably be ignored for some time to come. "At ease," she said at last. She turned to the table and picked up a folder containing the Captain's dossier. She pretended to read it while she studied the pilot, satisfied that her choice had been correct. The Captain stood ramrod straight with hands clasped behind her back, saying nothing, but Karina knew that behind the dark lenses her eyes were scanning every inch of the room.

The dossier revealed nothing that Karina did not already know. Captain Melissa Malueg, age twenty-three. Tested IQ of 165. Military pilot since her graduation from the Academy three years ago. Engaged at one time to Joshua Hernandez, son of Admiral Saul Hernandez, who had been killed when the Muero attacked the Mars colony. Two months after his death she had been injured on a routine patrol when a freak ion storm blasted her scout ship. The shields failed, exposing her to intense radiation. As a result, the woman could no longer be considered completely human.

Karina knew that Malueg's eyes were entirely opaline green. No trace of pupil or iris was visible. Testing revealed that her night vision allowed her to see in absolute darkness as well as any human could see in broad daylight. That wasn't the only change. Her skin tone was gold and very resilient; no blade could cut her except a laser scalpel. Her hair had also transformed, becoming a radiant mane of unearthly silver that shimmered in glossy waves to the center of her back. It seemed to move of it's own volition. Some people whispered that they had seen her use those lustrous locks to pick up tools or even open doors.

Despite the radical changes to her appearance, she was still a stunningly beautiful woman. Men had courted her, even pursued her, but she rejected all with the same blunt refusal. A mandatory psychological exam revealed a woman closed off from others, aloof and alone, unwilling to open herself to even close friendships. Joshua Hernandez had been almost twenty years older her senior, but they had shared camaraderie and devotion few couples enjoyed. His death had been devastating, and no one believed it when she returned to active flight status only a week after his death. It was rumored that they had shared a bond that transcended death. Gossips claimed to have overheard her speaking to him while in flight.

All of that was of little concern to Karina. It was Malueg's skills as a pilot and warrior that had caught her attention. For one so young, the girl was possessed of an uncanny knack for knowing exactly where her enemy was at all times. She had aced every training simulation known, and even a few specially designed to beat her. Attempted raids by the Muero in the last few months had been repelled easily by her squadron, and she now carried a confirmed kill record of more than a dozen Scaar-class elite fighters and one Claaw-class destroyer. She was ruthless and dedicated while she flew, and her unmitigated hatred for the Muero stoked the fires of a rage that would not be quenched until the reptiles were utterly destroyed. Swaying her from the military had been difficult. In the end, all it had taken was the promise of test flying new ships and killing Muero to seal the bargain. A healthy salary didn't seem to matter. She had resigned her commission and on the same day walked into the offices of the Tristan Corporation ready to fly. Some might have been skeptical of her loyalties, but Karina knew that Malueg was the kind of soldier that once their word was given, kept it.

"Do you understand your mission, Captain?" she asked.

A nod. "Understood, ma'am. Immediately upon launch, I activate the stealth systems and head for the Pluto mining colonies at top speed, avoiding pursuit by spy ships. After arrival at Pluto station, I am to set course for Regnuu Kraag and enter the Firestorm. While in Muero territory, I am to spend no more than twelve hours reconnoitering their system. I am to leave without engaging the enemy." She rested her hand on the table and leaned forward, taking off her glasses with the other. Her eyes flashed a brilliant green that made Karina flinch as they narrowed. "That's the only part of this mission I don't like. Ma'am."

Karina forced herself to stand still. She would not show weakness to anyone, but this young woman's unblinking stare was unnerving. "There will be plenty of time to kill Muero, Melissa. We have to make sure the stealth systems make our ships undetectable. If we can prove they are, we'll have an advantage the lizards are not prepared for." Malueg put her glasses back on, then tossed a glance to the darkened corner where Trage stood quietly. "Fine," she said. "Now why is that robot hiding in the corner?"

Karina covered a smile with her hand. They should have known she would see him. Trage moved out of the shadows, a pained expression on his face that Tristan knew was put-on. "I am not a robot," he said. "The word you're looking for is 'cyborg.' Your pardon, Captain, but I do not know you, and I am rather protective of my employer." Malueg shrugged. "Whatever," she sighed. "Next time, hide behind a lampshade of something, you overgrown blender." She turned back to Karina. "Tell me about the Raider."

Karina pressed a button on the desk, and a wallscreen activated, showing the outline and specs of the new ship. "The Raider-class fighter," she began. "It is essentially an upgrade on our fighter scouts, but with improved weapons and defensive systems. If necessary you can increase power to the cannons, allowing for shield piercing shots, but be cautious. Doing so will drain energy from your own shields. The stealth system should make you invisible to scans, and impossible to see unless your enemy is right on top of you. The drive system utilizes improvements on our standard Terradyne engines. You should notice increased speed, maneuverability and range." Malueg nodded her approval of the ship. "Environmental systems?"

"Standard. Life-support systems can keep you breathing for ten days. Basic ration packs are stowed beneath the seat. The ejection pod can sustain life for thirty-six hours once separated from the ship. Hopefully, you won't need to test that." A lifted eyebrow was the only indication that Malueg gave to show she agreed. Then she frowned and pointed at the board. "You've got the stealth systems piggy- backed on the drive systems. Have you compensated for the Isenberg deficiency?" Karina sighed. She'd been hoping that that design flaw would have been overlooked. "We think so," she admitted. The Isenberg deficiency was a defect that was yet to be overcome. Any system that was tied in to the engines was prone to failure when the engines powered down from full. Theoretically, the stealth could temporarily fail once the stardrive was shut down. So far, scientists had yet to come up with a solution. Even Simon's people were stumped.

Malueg's frown deepened. "You think so?" she almost sneered. "I don't want to come out of the Firestorm into Muero space lit up like a skyrocket. Did you fix the flaw or not?"

"We installed back-up generators to the stealth systems. If you run stealth at half power before cutting the stardrive, they should compensate for the deficiency. Then you can restore full power. Even with stealth at half for those few seconds, you should not be detected."

The Captain shook her head. "Would, should, could. How many pilots have been lost because of those words?"

"Are you refusing the mission?" Trage asked. "Doing so could void your employment contract with the Corp. I doubt that Christiansen's military would welcome you back with open arms now that you've signed with us."

"Why don't you head to the galley and chop some carrots?" Malueg scowled at him.

"That's enough you two. We have more important things to do than this petty bickering." Her voice was firm and reminded her employees just who the boss really was. Malueg and Trage both settled back after one last glare. "Now I assure you, Captain, that..." Karina began, but she was cut off with a lifted hand. "With all due respect, ma'am, you can stick your assurances in the nearest black hole. Or better yet, in his oil spout," Malueg said, jerking a thumb towards Trage, who seethed. "I'll be back in twenty-two hours, or I won't be back."

Trage bristled but kept still when Karina shot him a commanding glare. "You are expected to use the on-board recorder to keep a constant log of your observations," she said finally. "Do not take foolish risks, and bring your ship back in one piece. Good luck, Captain,"

Malueg nodded and spun on her heel. With a contemptuous glance at Trage, she left the room.

"That's your best pilot?" Jason growled. Karina tried not to smile. Few people rarely got the better of Trage. He had a tendency to intimidate without uttering a word. Malueg had bruised his ego, and he was having a hard time accepting it. "Absolutely," she said.

It wasn't far to the hangar deck, only a short walk and one elevator ride three levels down. Yet Malueg tapped her foot and impatiently checked her watch three times on the way down. Dealings with corporate higher-ups and their lackeys always left her with a bad taste in her mouth. Tristan was tolerable, but that Trage fellow had a bad attitude towards anyone that didn't worship the boss the way he did.

Once in the hangar, she grabbed her helmet from the rack and strode purposely toward the Raider. Her heart was racing as it always did before a flight. Even more so now as she inspected her ship. There were only slight differences between the Raider and the Scout-class fighter the Corp was famous for. The ship was sleek and powerful, with graceful downswept wings and a slim fuselage. Unlike the Scout, the vertical stabilizing fins angled in toward the main hull, instead of rising straight up and down from the wings. The entire craft screamed of speed and viciousness, and for the next day or so it was hers. She couldn't help but smile.

The hangar crew scrambled out of the way of her determined stride. As she walked, her hair twisted itself up around her head as she removed her glasses and put the helmet on. Those watching stared with wide eyes at the diminutive woman. The aura of mystery around her seemed to crackle in the air. They all knew who she was, but no one dared approach and speak to her. Once settled in the cockpit, she activated the flight controls and smiled as the engines began to hum and gently vibrate the ship with their power. She thumbed the com. "This is Raider one, ready for take off."

The receiver in her helmet crackled. "Raider one, all deck crews are clear. Hangar doors are opened and magnetic shield is deactivated. Proceed with launch." She slammed the throttles forward. There was a momentary pause and then the Raider's engines belched huge gouts of fire and heat. Like a shooting star the ship streaked from the station.

No one heard the pilot shouting an enthusiastic, "Yeehaa!"

From the viewport, Karina and Jason watched the Raider as it circled the station once and then turned toward deep space. As they watched, the ship seemed to shimmer and then it faded from view. "She just went into stealth mode." There was a bright flash from the engines that signaled the Raider had gone. "Vaya con Dios, Melissa," Karina whispered.

Trage glanced at the handsome woman by his side, then turned his eyes to the stars again. He gave a slight nod, as if agreeing. "Go with God, Captain."

It flew like a dream.

She pushed the engines to their limits and was rewarded with more speed. She put the ship through loops and rolls. It responded almost eagerly, as if it wanted to show her what it was capable of. Two hours of flight time and she passed Mars. Usually the radio would have carried a signal from Mars command, but it remained silent as she flew by undetected. She turned on the recorder with a sniff. "Looks like stealth is working. No contact from Mars."

More speed and three more hours saw distant Neptune drift past as the Raider continued to accelerate. "No signal from Neptune either," she commented, her first words since leaving Mars. "Changing course for Pluto sector and the outer markers." No sense in being talkative.

She guided the Raider in a graceful curve and pointed the nose toward Pluto. Setting the autopilot, she settled back in the comfortable seat and closed her eyes. The ship would wake her up when it reached the outer markers of the Sol system. Folding her arms across her chest, as she dropped into sleep the soft hum of the engines awoke memories of her last deep space mission.

The storm was massive. Flashing particles of interstellar matter made her think of her childhood in Tennessee and the lightning bugs on the farm. The ship's scanners were on the verge of overload trying to gauge the exact size of the storm and the amount of energy the floating ions were emitting. That fact alone told her that it would probably do the job.

As the fighter scout floated several thousand miles from the storm, she only occasionally looked up from her work. She had removed the ship's computer core. It lay exposed while she made fine adjustments that the best technician on Earth would be hard pressed to uncover. Months spent pouring over the manuals had convinced her that her sabotage to the ship would never be discovered. Not that it really mattered, if it worked, she'd be dead anyway. At least this way her family back home would receive the death benefit package that all pilots opted for when enlisting. If not, the military tribunal might find them responsible for her actions. She quickly put that thought aside. A year ago she'd been such a different person. Happier. Ready to leave the military and the flying she so dearly loved in exchange for a life with Joshua. His tour of duty was about to end, and they had picked out a little place in the mountains of Australia. There they would raise a family and tinker with the antique airplane he was rebuilding. She would still be able to fly.

Then word had come of the Muero attack and the pilots lost in that hopeless engagement with the enemy. Joshua's destroyer had been one of the first casualties when an elite fighter punched through the shields and suicided into the command deck. Admiral Saul Hernandez had brought her the news himself. In his sixties, with graying hair and beard, he looked ten years older as he stoically reported the death of his son. Then he had taken her in his arms and comforted her as she wept and screamed her anguish. She never heard the puff of air or felt the noculator pressed against her neck as he injected her with a sedative. She woke twelve hours later with a dull ache in her heart, a decommissioned flight status, and a plan.

Now that plan was coming to fruition. Finishing her alterations to the core, she replaced it carefully, closed the access panel, and stowed the tools back under the seat. Taking a deep breath, she reactivated the computer and nodded as the HUD lit up. All systems were operating perfectly. Wait for me, Joshua. I'm coming to you. She eased the throttle to full and felt the gentle pressure as she was pushed back in the seat. The scout streaked toward the storm. It would be quick and painless, and the long months of pain would finally end in one flash of brilliant light.

"Warning. Approaching anomaly of unknown power on collision trajectory. Replotting course." If it had been human, she would have thought the computer sounded worried.

"Negative. Maintain course and speed. Raise shields to full." The computer didn't reply, but there was a beep of acknowledgment as the shields were activated. A small puff of smoke snaked from behind the closed panel. Her heart began to pound as she raced towards eternity. As the ship drew nearer streams of raw energy seemed to reach out as if to draw the small craft into the storm's violent embrace. Then came a jarring crash as she crossed the edge and entered the maelstrom. It was as if a giant fist had reached out and grabbed the small craft and shook it. She was thrown violently from side to side, the harness barely able to hold her in place. Sparks jetted from behind the console and the cockpit began to fill with smoke. The HUD winked out and the computer let out a strangled, "Sh-sh-shields f-f-fail-ing!" Then it was gone as well.

She barely noticed pieces of the armor plating being torn away as the storm ripped into the tiny ship, she was having too much trouble breathing. The last thing she noticed before unconsciousness took her was the eerie glow surrounding the ship. Then she saw nothing but empty blackness.

Rarrkar Felgarr Kaarb stomped onto the bridge of the destroyer Faang. He was in a foul temper, and the underlings knew it. None dared to meet his eye and all cowered respectfully when he passed them. They had felt his claws before when he had been in a rage, and a second or third experience was best avoided.

Second in command was Naakar Bruuk Cromm. Only he was unaffected by the presence of the Rarrkar on the bridge. He was larger than Kaarb and more experienced in battle, but content in his position. The Primaags never held Naakars responsible for failure in battle. Kaarb could rage all he wanted, but he never tried to get physical with his second, for which Cromm was grateful. If he were to defeat the Rarrkar in battle, command of the Faang would pass to him, a prospect he would avoid as long as possible. Still, he enjoyed baiting Kaarb at every opportunity, knowing full well the Rarrkar would bluster and spit, but never challenge him. "Our orders are not to your liking, Rarrkar?" Kaarb glared at his second. "Primaag Lotraag commands us to escort his new battleship to Regnuu Kraag for final outfitting."

"Far from battle and glorious victory. No wonder you appear vexed."

"The Primaag wishes his ship to be protected until the weapons are installed and tested. He suspects his brother Taarkiis may send assassin squads to destroy the ship. Striking such a blow would give Taarkiis favor in the eyes of the Motaan-Raxx."

"A reasonable assumption."

Kaarb bared his fangs and snarled. "A waste of our time. Taarkiis is not so foolish. He would never attack Lotraag openly." He turned to the helm. "Bring us alongside the battleship. Wait for orders to get under way."

Cromm flexed his talons. "Should I ready the fighter crews, Rarrkar?"

Kaarb considered. "No. We should not waste that much fuel on this mission."

Cromm's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps two, Rarrkar? The Primaag might be appreciative of your vigilance."

Kaarb knew that if Lotraag were to question Cromm later, his second would take great pleasure in revealing any errors that his Rarrkar had made. Failing to provide adequate protection could be disastrous. "Very well," he growled. "Launch two Scaar fighters."

Cromm passed the order to the hangar deck, and within moments two elite fighters were darting through the space between the two massive ships. Kaarb was probably right, nothing would happen today, but Lotraag would know who's idea the fighters had been. He didn't want command of the Faang, but he wouldn't mind seeing Kaarb removed.

Soft chiming brought Malueg out of a sound sleep. Most pilots found it hard to stretch in the cramped cockpit, but her small frame had plenty of room to loosen up the kinks in her muscles. She deactivated the alarm and checked her coordinates. Almost time to make the jump into the Firestorm. "I'm bringing the stardrive online. I've programmed navigation for Regnuu Kraag. ETA through the Firestorm is three hours. I hope you built this thing right or you're going to be minus one ship, one pilot, and millions of credits. Cross your fingers." I feel you with me, Joshua, she thought. Make me strong enough to see this through. The system screen showed the stardrive at maximum power. Taking a deep breath, she activated it. The tiny ship hung in space a fraction of a second, then the engines flashed and it leapt into the Firestorm. Her view of the stars vanished, replaced by the swirling colors and heated energies that traveling beneath normal space produced around a ship. She relaxed. The fighter was flying perfectly. She kept glancing to the small display that showed the stealth systems. So far there were no problems, but she had never been one to trust techs, and a dim sense of foreboding was growing in her belly. If she lost stealth at an inopportune time, it would really ruin her day.

"Stardrive operating normally. Three hours to Muero space." Settling back in the seat for the long flight, she tried to shake off the memories her dream had brought back, but failed. She knew she should have died in that storm, but instead her ship had been tossed free just moments before destruction. The auto-repair program restored the computer and the drive, and her ship had limped back to Sol station. She had spent three months in a coma while her body changed into something never seen before, baffling the medical staff. Her sabotage had never been discovered, but she thought that a few suspected.

Vice-admiral Stanley Erickson had wanted her grounded, but Saul had stepped in and seen to it that she was transferred to his command. She had repaid that kindness by leaving the service only a few weeks later and joining the Tristan Corp. He had not spoken to her since the day she resigned her commission. That had been the only part of her decision that she regretted.

"Approaching Firestorm escape vector. Disengaging stardrive. Entering enemy territory." The computer voice sounded as nervous as she felt. Where had the time gone? She double-checked all systems, keeping a steady eye on the stealth mode. So far there was no change, but once the stardrive powered down it was anybody's guess.

"Rarkarr? Reading a minor disturbance in space directly ahead." Felgarr Kaarb stomped across the deck until he stood behind the underling positioned at the operations post. "What kind of disturbance?"

"Unsure, Rarkarr. It reads almost like a ship emerging from the Firestorm, but the instruments show no sign of a vessel." The viewscreen suddenly lit up as a blazing flower of light blossomed only a few ship lengths from them. Kaarb growled and turned to the science station. "Explanation."

"A flare from the Firestorm, Rarkarr. Fortunately we were far enough from it to avoid damage."

Kaarb nodded, satisfied. "Inform Primaag Lotraag of your findings."

Only Cromm stared at the screen with growing suspicion. "That may be a premature thing to do, Rarkarr. This part of our space has never been unstable enough to allow flares. I think we just witnessed a ship emerging."

Kaarb pointed a talon at the screen. "Do you see a ship? Neither do I. It was a flare, nothing more."

Cromm stared at the screen intently, then moved to the nearest console and began making adjustments to the sensors. "Interesting," he muttered. The screen suddenly changed to the growling image of Lotraag. "Explain this report of a freak flare, Kaarb. That was not like any flare I've ever witnessed."

The Rarkarr began to stammer a reply, but Cromm cut him off. "The report may have been inaccurate, Primaag."

"Indeed? Well, Naakar, I'd like to hear your opinion since your Rarkarr seems incapable of finding his voice. For your sake, it had better please me." Cromm lowered his head in a submissive bow. "Yes, Primaag. If you would indulge me and have your crew perform a low-level radiant energy scan on a revolving frequency, they will find an odd reading 700 kexars from our current position. That signature is moving erratically. Rather unusual for a flare, as you have said." Lotraag growled deep in his throat as the findings were confirmed. Through the screen he fixed Cromm with one eye. "Speak," he said.

"I believe it to be a ship," the Nakarr said without a trace of pride. Humility was key when dealing with the Muero who would most likely be the next Motann-Raxx. "A ship invisible to our eyes, and just discernible by our instruments." Lotraag's gaze shifted to Kaarb. "A wise decision to launch fighters. Direct them to the energy source and have them destroy it. This ship is not battle ready, and I do not want it damaged. Fail to protect it and you will answer to me." The Primaag's eyes flashed red as the screen winked out.

Kaarb barked orders. Commands were relayed to the pilots. All the while, Cromm realized that a faint feeling of unease was growing within him. Somehow, this would turn out badly for Kaarb.

He didn't want to be his replacement.

"Damn piece of over-engineered garbage!" Malueg swore. This was not going to be her day.

Having emerged from the Firestorm, she was now fighting to keep the stealth mode functional. The back up generators were not doing what they had been designed to do, and the stealth system was flickering. She may not have been lit up like a skyrocket, but those two big Muero ships must have noticed something. The two elite fighters had moved in and were definitely looking for something. It took a lot of finesse to keep the stealth going and use thrusters to move away, giving herself a little breathing room. The computer was spouting a list of all the things that were currently failing or about to go. As soon as she corrected one problem another popped up. The stardrive was down for at least another ten minutes, leaving the Terradyne drive and maneuvering thrusters. She could fly, but there wasn't going to be a fast retreat. She didn't have time for this. If they managed to draw a bead on her position things were going to get uglier than Trage. She smiled at her own joke, then threw up her hands in desperation. At least she would be able to kill some Muero before they got her. She had no delusions about survival. "Take stealth mode offline," she hissed. "Full power to shields and weapons."

There was a momentary lull in the cockpit as the computer processed her orders. Then the ship shuddered. Lights lit up on the console as the weapons charged and the shields were engaged.

She sighed as the two fighters rapidly turned and headed towards her. "I should have stayed in bed," she muttered. Knowing she was going to have to fight until the stardrive came back, she took off her glasses.

Kaarb's jaw dropped as the little ship shimmered into view. "Humans!" he snarled.

Cromm felt some satisfaction at having been proven right, but now was not the time for gloating. He quickly contacted the fighters. "Attack the enemy, but do not destroy. The Primaag will want to inspect the prize. That technology must be captured." Kaarb glared at his second.

She slammed the throttle to full. The Raider accelerated smoothly, flying between the two elite fighters before they could fire a shot. "Hello, boys," she shouted. "Time to die!" She yanked back on the yoke.

The Raider screamed into a tight loop. G-forces pressed her back into her seat as the air bladders in her flight suit expanded. At the peak she eased back the throttle and barrel-rolled. The Scaars were right where she knew them to be. She gave her ship full power to the engines and dove. The fighters were still turning as the Raider streaked at them. Just before firing she jerked the yoke to port and put the Raider into a tight spin. A gentle squeeze on the trigger unleashed a whirlwind stream of deadly energy bolts that pounded the shields of the nearest Scaar. Surprised by her unusual maneuver, the pilot was unable to evade the onslaught. Hammered mercilessly the shields weakened and several blasts punched through to impact the hull. Chunks of the fighter were blown off the ship and it began to leak fuel, leaving a frozen trail in its wake. Malueg guided the Raider in a graceful curve away from the stricken ship, avoiding the other Scaar, which fired too late. "What are you guys, rookies?" she cried.

She sounded more confident than she felt. The shots had missed, but now the other Muero fighter was dogging her tail, and this pilot knew what he was doing. She jerked the Raider through space, but he clung to her backside like a determined leech. The shields sizzled as a shot impacted. She cursed again.

Futilely she fired the braking thrusters. It was an old trick, but the Muero had a habit of falling for it. Most of the time.

This one was no different. Surprised, the Scaar flew right past her. She seized the opportunity. "Shield piercing!" she yelled at the computer. It acknowledged with a single beep and she fired.

The cannons spat radiant death. At such close range she could not have missed. The shots punched through and struck the engines where the shields were weakest. The Scaar exploded in a cloud of metal fragments and gas. She whooped as the Raider passed through the expanding wreckage. "One down, several to go!"

Then the Raider jolted as it took a hit. "Shield strength now at forty-two percent," the computer said. "Redirecting power to compensate."

The dogfight had taken her near the destroyer. She'd known her position, but thought she was still out of range of their cannons. Fortunately distance weakened the destructive force of energy blasts, so damage to the shields had been minimal. Still, there was no sense taking chances, so she turned the Raider away even as another flurry of blasts lit up the space around her ship. She cursed as a stray shot caused the aft shields to sputter.

To her surprise, the first Scaar had recovered and was now barreling down her throat at full speed, firing a steady stream of laser fire. Several direct hits and the computer flashed a warning. "Shield strength at nineteen percent. Retreat advised." She frowned as she veered away from the fighter, knowing even before she felt the ship vibrate that her hasty maneuver had exposed the belly of the Raider. The Scaar had seized its chance. Her ship lurched and smoke began to seep into the cockpit. God help her if the stardrive had been hit, but the engine indicators were all still green. That could change at any time if this didn't end quickly.

The Scaar was pursuing her now. How had that fighter recovered from the damage she'd inflicted? She knew better than to try and force a fly-by, the pilot would be ready for that trick. "Full power to drive," she commanded the computer. "On my mark, cut the engines and give me as much power to the cannons and forward shields as possible."

"Acknowledged."

Slowly the Raider began to ease away from the Scaar. Malueg dared a small smile. Tristan had said the ship would be fast. At least that much was true. She gauged the distance between them, and when the Scaar was directly in line behind her, she reacted. "Mark!" she yelled.

Even as she spoke the computer cut the engines. Using thrusters she spun the Raider around until it was flying backward and opened fire. Her blasts caught the Muero pilot completely by surprise. Having grown overconfident he had become careless. Her shots tore into the fighter's already weakened defenses and into the hull. The Scaar disintegrated. At the very last second before destruction she saw the escape pod jettison. The explosion of the ship thrust the pod away from the two capital ships, which she now turned her attention too.

The battle with the Scaars had taken less than two minutes. Yet neither of the massive ships had come after her. Why? The destroyer continued to fire a few shots, but these were avoided easily, and at this distance they were harmless. The larger battleship wasn't doing anything. Why weren't they hunting her down?

"Computer, scan those ships and record all data. Do you recognize the configuration of the larger ship?"

"Negative. Unknown Muero design. While similar in shape to a Menaace-class, scans show this vessel to be larger and more heavily armed. Caution recommended." "Caution be damned. They'll use that thing against Earth, and I'm not about to let that happen. There's a reason that battleship hasn't fired on me, and I intend to find out why. Full power to shields!"

As the ship rocketed toward the two enormous craft, her memories welled up the same sensation she'd felt when she'd foolishly charged into an ion storm. This is suicide, death, the end. There'd be no coming back from this one, but she was remarkably at peace. There was no fear, only the feeling of reaching the end of a long dark road. The battleship still had not fired on her, but the smaller destroyer was letting loose with everything it had. The Raider dodged through the rain of laser fire as nimbly as a cat. What few shots did hit barely scored the shields, which seemed to be holding. The closer she flew, the more detail she could see, and at last understood why the battleship stayed silent.

It wasn't finished.

Bare patches on the hull revealed gaps where the armor plating had yet to be laid, and there wasn't a single cannon to be seen. The ship was unarmed. She banked away from the destroyer and arched over the massive bulk of the ship, knowing instinctively that she would be safer there. She doubted the Rarrkar of the destroyer would dare fire in the direction of the battleship.

As she flew alongside she revised her opinion of the vessel. It wasn't just big, it was a behemoth. God help Earth when this thing became operational. She heard Tristan's voice in her head as she squeezed the trigger. Do not engage the enemy. Surveillance only, Captain. To hell with Karina, she wasn't here.

"We've lost sight of the enemy fighter, Rarrkar. It has flown to the opposite side of Lord Lotraag's ship."

"I can see that for myself, hatchling," Kaarb snarled. He whipped his head to the side and glared at Cromm. "Why have we not launched more fighters?" Cromm returned the stare evenly and without flinching. "A squadron of Scaars is being prepared now, Rarrkar. It requires only a few more tilks until they are launched." Suddenly their image of the battleship changed. From the far side of the ship came a series of explosions and several bright plumes of fire. Then Lotraag's visage was glaring at them. "That cursed human is daring to attack my ship and you sit on your tails waiting for it to finish the deed? Protect this ship or your lives are forfeit!" The screen went blank.

Kaarb appeared stunned and uncertain of what to do. Cromm heaved a sigh and took command. "Helm, move us around the stern of the Primaag's ship and intercept that fighter. Gunner, prepare to fire again, but this time try to aim. I want that ship and its pilot disabled." He turned his eyes to Kaarb and glowered at him with contempt. "We'll be lucky to survive this, Rarrkar."

She whooped as her guns tore huge gaping holes in the hull of the battleship. This was one ship that wouldn't attack her homeworld, not if she could do something about it. As she approached the rear of the battleship and the glow of the engines, the destroyer made an unexpected appearance. Even before it had cleared the stern it had begun to shoot, lighting up the space around her with hot lances. She tried to evade the blasts, but there was nowhere to go that would not take her directly into a direct firing line of the destroyer. The shields were pounded relentlessly and stuttered on the brink of total failure.

She was a sitting duck.

That left her only one option. "Shield piercing!" she cried, and pushed the throttles to max. The computer flashed a warning as energy from the shields was diverted to the guns. A few direct hits and her ship would be so much drifting dust. Even as the thought came the destroyer began shooting again, a steady cascade of destructive power intent on her death.

Malueg's conscious mind slipped away, replaced by the cold efficiency of her altered subconscious. She flew now by her by instinct, guided by her senses. The Raider jumped from one point in space to another, flying through the barrage and taking only minimal damage from a few glancing blows. As she drew near she pulled back on the yoke and pulled the Raider into a steep climb. The cannon fire dropped away as they failed to track her ship.

Two thousand feet above the destroyer the Raider did a graceful loop and dove.

"More power to cannons," she said, her voice dull and flat.

"Divert power from drive or environmental systems?" the computer asked.

"Life support. If we get out of this in one piece, keep working on the drive. We'll need a quick escape." She could hold her breath if necessary. The power reading on the weapons climbed to beyond the maximum settings. The computer beeped a warning. "Possible explosive discharge may occur."

"Hell with it, who wants to live forever?" The Raider shook as several shots punched into the armor, tearing away large chunks from the skin of her fighter. The destroyer's command deck was now centered in the HUD. She pulled the trigger.

Nakarr Cromm saw the human fighter bearing down on his ship. With grim acceptance he realized he would never have to worry about facing the wrath of a Primaag again. He faced Kaarb. "Fool, you've killed us all with your arrogance." The Rarrkar had at last heard enough from his second in command. His talons extended, he launched himself across the bridge at Cromm.

The cannons spat hot blue spears. More than a dozen were fired before the cannons malfunctioned and shut down. It was more than enough. Every shot punched through the defenses of the destroyer and blasted into the ship. Blooms of debris-laden fire and smoke gushed into open space. She watched dispassionately as several bodies were ejected, some of them on fire, two of them seemed to be grasping at each other as they tumbled lifelessly through the void. More explosions followed throughout the ship, tearing the hull to pieces.

The Raider swept past the smoldering ruins of what had been the command center of the Muero ship and into open space, leaving the crippled destroyer and the damaged battleship behind. She coughed in the thinning air and ordered the life support restored. When the destroyer exploded she felt the concussion wave as it passed over her ship. That seemed to relax her. She shook her head and cleared her mind.

"Stardrive recharged and available." The computer seemed almost cheerful.

"Plot return course to Sol system and await my orders for the jump into the Firestorm."

"Shields capable of only minimal protection. Use of stardrive not recommended."

"I'll risk it," she said. She was now far from the battleship. The computer was filled with data from its scans of the ship, which the Tristan Corporation would no doubt be grateful for. She regretted not being able to finish off the beast, but with her guns so much scrap metal that would be impossible. Too bad Tristan had not thought to add a couple of good D-14's before she launched. Still, she had another more radical idea that appealed more to her.

Flying over the Muero escape pod, she activated the grappler beams and pulled it along. Scans showed the pilot still alive. If he survived the trip through the Firestorm he would learn firsthand just what humanity was willing to do to win this war. She doubted he would enjoy it much. If he didn't survive, Tristan's scientists would still welcome the chance to dig into a fresh Muero corpse.

She took one last look at the battleship. Perhaps she would get another chance, someday.

She activated the stardrive, and the Raider entered the Firestorm again.

Lotraag lifted bloody talons from the corpse of the unfortunate underling that had been too close when the rage had come over him. The rest of the bridge was silent, none daring even to breathe for fear he would seek another victim. The primal fury had passed from the Primaag. His ship was heavily damaged, but still capable of flight. The human fighter had retreated after vanquishing the destroyer. He sensed that it had been alone, and that there would be no more attacks.

"Resume course to Regnuu Kraag," he growled. The humans would pay for this offense. They would pay dearly.