If the consequences of our apprehension negated Gia’s fame and fortune, that paling in comparison to what would happen if Sedaya won, did the same consequences apply to ending the lives of a few orbital control pilots? Were they expendable in the name of the cause?

  I knew how Alter or Keep would answer those questions. Druck and Quasar would agree, but Matt, David, and Gia’s feelings were less clear. I wasn’t going to ask them now. I knew what I believed. Money was one thing. Life another. Shooting down more of the Atlassian starfighters wouldn’t guarantee success. It would only make it slightly more likely, and I couldn’t bring myself to trade their lives for that small percentage gain.

  “Gia, can you shift more power to the thrusters?” I asked.

  “If you want,” she replied.

  “You can’t,” Alter said. “You’ll burn them out.”

  “They can burn out. We aren’t keeping this ride anyway. Gia, do it.”

  “Done,” she replied as we jolted forward.

  The starhopper raced toward the Sentries overhead, tailed by dozens of starfighters with more closing on the flanks. Energy blasts shot past us from everywhere, the shields taking a constant stream of fire, but they were holding up incredibly well given the circumstances.

  “We aren’t going to make it,” Alter said as warning tones sounded across the flight deck and shield nodes started failing. The thrusters were burning too hot as well, in danger of overheating.

  But we were almost there.

  “Yes, we will,” I insisted, with no real cause for optimism beyond internal determination.

  “We’re going too fast.”

  “Bring us into the top of the Sentry,” I said, targeting another ship with the ion cannons. “Use friction to slow us.” Alter looked at me like I was crazy. “This ship’s armor can take it.”

  She smiled, impressed with the idea even if it was easier said than done. We were still a few thousand kilometers from the target, and according to the sensor grid and the sudden evacuation of the starfighters from our vicinity, we were in for a real pounding.

  “ We're going to be cutting it close,” Alter said.

  “You can do it,” I pressed.

  She started maneuvering before the Sentries opened fire, a barrage of plasma bolts and torpedoes launching from half a dozen massive ships. It was kind of ridiculous, really. Our small starhopper raced headlong toward an overwhelming use of force we couldn’t possibly avoid. Nattic had no intention of letting us get away. Not when the blueburn had already escaped with Prince Hiro on board.

  “Ooh, that looks bad,” Keep said behind me, entering the flight deck. He raised his hand, his sleeve glowing. “This is all I’ve got left, kid. It’s on you to open the Sentry’s hangar. Don’t blow it.”

  He threw his hand forward, beads of sweat exploding on his forehead. The majority of torpedoes rushing our way hit impossible space turbulence and were suddenly thrown off course, veering away. Believing their targeting systems compromised, they self-destructed, putting up a wave of escaping energy around us and helping to hide us from the Sentries’ firing solutions.

  The starhopper rode on top of that wave on its way to the target, covering the distance much faster thanks to the increased thruster output. As he fell forward, weak again from using the sleeve, I grabbed Keep and held him as we changed vectors. One of the thrusters went offline, overheated, just before Alter cut the power to all of them. She brought us up to the bottom of the Sentry, like a breaching whale. The starhopper shuddered as it slammed into the Sentry’s hull, sliding across it as more warning tones sounded, filling the flight deck and echoing throughout the ship. The lights flickered and David groaned, no doubt ready to hurl a second time, Matt probably right there with him.

  Even with dampening, I was thrown forward in my seat, losing my grip on Keep. He would have smashed into the viewport, but he managed to activate his sleeve, negating the force against his body. We kept sliding until the ship cleared the hull, losing friction and maintaining course across space. With the main thrusters cut, Alter used vectoring to bring our nose around. The defending starfighters once more closed on our position, the Sentries too close to attack.

  I hated to do it, but I pushed the needle of my ring back into my skin, the spot immediately turned cold. I didn’t know if I would end up paralyzed or dead from using the ring again, but there was no other choice. Alter swung us in line with the hangar as a fresh round of energy blasts hit the shields, finally breaking through and scorching the hull.

  I didn’t close my eyes. I couldn’t waste time building up power. “Distra!” I shouted, throwing my hand at the hangar bay doors. The ring glowed brightly and the metal pressed inward, tearing at the weak points and creating a massive hole into the hangar. Still pressurized, debris and unsecured items flew out of the hole, battering the front of the starhopper as Alter guided the ship inside. The Atlassian starfighters managed to get a few more shots off at us before we made it through, but none of them scored a critical hit.

  Slumping forward, pain coursed through me, my right arm completely frozen. When I coughed, too much blood flew out with the spittle, splattering against my instrument panel and the transparency. The sight of it made me sick, sadness and fear sending a chill down my spine. Resolve kept me upright and focused as Alter drifted the starhopper toward Head Case, where it was clamped to the deck near the middle of the hangar. Lucky for us, the starhopper we had bought sat beside it, free of attachment to the hangar deck.

  Pulling my phone out of a pocket with my good hand, I thumbed the controls to remotely access Head Case. The ship was powered up, though I didn’t know what the Sentry engineers had done to bring her back to life. Either way, it had worked out in our favor. I was able to open the big grin that was Head Case's hangar doors.

  Better than that, my experience with the phone allowed me to quickly use just my thumb to navigate to the fire control system and activate the ion cannons. I had no idea how long they might last with the makeshift power supply, but I was ready to use them if any of the starfighters trailing us shot through the hole we had made in the Sentry.

  They did so a few seconds later, two of them easing into the hangar, a mistake even worse than I had initially guessed they'd make. They had to come in relatively slowly to avoid crashing into any part of the interior, leaving them tremendously vulnerable to the ion cannons of both Head Case and the starhopper. I only used our current ride’s weapons, swinging my hand up and tapping the enemy targets on the projection. Ion blasts poured out at the craft, who hesitated to shoot back for fear of damaging the Sentry.

  After nearly a dozen easy hits against each, the two starfighters drifted toward the back wall of the hangar and collided softly with the bulkhead. Momentum dragged them to the upper corner of the space where they remained.

  The starhopper was barely moving by the time it eased into Head Case’s hangar, skids maglocking to the deck as I closed the hangar bay doors and repressurized the space. “Alter, you need to get the Star plugged back in,” I said through gritted teeth. We were so close to getting away it was worth the relentless pain running through me.

  “On my way,” she replied, shucking her restraints and practically shoving Keep out of the way in her rush to the rear hatch. She knew how badly we needed to get out of here and how quickly she had to move to make that happen.

  “Bennie, you okay?” Keep asked, looking pretty exhausted himself.

  “It hurts,” I replied, eyes tearing. “Bad.” He put his hand on my arm, ready to calm me. “Not yet. Not until…hyperspace.”

  “You don’t need to fight through the pain, kid.”

  “I need to see this through.”

  He nodded. “Then we need to get to the flight deck.”

  I held my phone with the screen showing a visual of Head Case’s hangar, watching for more trouble as Keep pulled me to my feet and guided me to the back of the starhopper. The rest of the crew had already disembarked, and I found them waiting immediately outside as Keep and I stumbled onto the hangar deck.

  “I’ve got him,” Quasar said, taking me from Keep. He fell as soon as my weight was gone from him, showing how weak his use of sigiltech had made him.

  “Get him to the flight deck,” Keep said. “ASAP.”

  “Matt,” I said, holding out the phone to him. “Incoming targets.”

  He took the device, looking at the screen. “What do I do?”

  The power went out before I could answer, the remote connection to the ship lost.

  CHAPTER 26

  “Alter, what are you doing?” I snapped with as much force as I could muster from where I hung over Zar's shoulder.

  “The dumbass Royals jury-rigged a portable reactor to the primary conduit to provide enough power to get Head Case down from orbit,” she replied in her deeper Mechanic Alter voice. “It’s a total hack-job. I had to switch off the main to unhook it and reconnect the Star of Caprum.”

  “There are starfighters right outside,” I complained. “Our hull is made from recycled shipping containers and sheet metal. One hit and we’re—” The power flashed back on. The lights seemed even brighter than before.

  “I didn’t have to reset everything, the batteries had enough juice for emergency power. Put the shields up and we’re good to go.”

  “Matt, punch the shields button,” I said, glancing at the phone in his hand, which hadn’t actually lost connection. Only the camera feed had gone dark. “Then the top button, then the third one down.”

  He hit the items on the interface in rapid succession, activating the shields as we scaled the steps to the elevator. The shield icon activated, blinking almost immediately as they registered their first hits.

  “That was too close,” Matt said, moving ahead of us to call the elevator down. It arrived in a few seconds and we practically fell in, joined by Gia and David. Keep remained on the floor of the hangar, doubled-over.

  “Keep, are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’ll be fine, kid,” he replied softly. “Don’t worry about me. Just get us out of here.”

  We reached Deck Four, and Quasar sprinted down the short corridor with me in her arms. I felt awkward about having someone carry me like this, especially a woman, but this wasn’t the time to exercise my male ego. “Levi, open the doors to the flight deck.”

  The doors slid aside just ahead of us. My muscles spasmed hard, and I howled in pain. “Ben!” she cried, slowing and nearly dropping me.

  “Keep going,” I urged, gritting my teeth against the agony. The spasms subsided a little as she stormed onto the flight deck and dropped me into the pilot seat. “Helmet.”

  She grabbed it and shoved it down on my head. Working one-handed, I started the main thrusters as the rest of the crew strapped in—Matt, Shaq, and Quasar behind me, David and Gia in the nearby jump seats.

  I started coughing again, tilting my head down since I didn’t have a hand to cover with. Blood splattered the front of my shirt, bile rising from my stomach. Why was I coughing up blood all of a sudden? I shook the thought out of my head, my attention better applied to the matter at hand. I would worry about it later.

  It was time to go.

  I pushed the throttle forward, quickly reaching for the stick as Head Case broke free of the maglock and moved across the Sentry's deck. Four starfighters blasted away at our shields, which were already moving into the area of rough shape. If we hadn’t upgraded on the way here, we probably would have been dead already.

  I focused on the hole I’d punched in the hangar doors, adjusting our vector to aim us toward it and then reaching for the throttle. Alter returned to the flight deck in pilot form, rushing to her seat. “I’ll take over,” she said as she grabbed her helmet.

  “No time,” I replied. “Hold on.”

  “Are you sure the hole you made is big enough?” Matt asked.

  “If it isn’t, it'll be the end of our escape,” I replied, grabbing the throttle and pushing it recklessly forward. Pegged back in my seat from the acceleration, we rocketed away from the starfighters’ assault, angling toward the jagged opening in the Sentry’s side. “Alter, we need jump coordinates.”

  “Setting them now,” she answered.

  Knuckles white, teeth gritted, body tense, we reached the opening. Head Case shuddered violently as some part of the ship hit some part of the Sentry, but not hard enough to keep us from passing through. We exploded out of the hangar, shooting straight toward a nearby Sentry surrounded by starfighters, all of them waiting for us to emerge. Alter immediately brought up the damage report, a schematic of the ship showing I had sheared off the edges of both the robot head’s ears.

  “Could have been a lot worse,” I said, clenching my gut to try to keep myself from coughing. We were out of the hangar, but not even close to being out of trouble.

  “Coordinates are set,” Alter announced. “Hyperspace computer is calculating the path. ETA thirty seconds.”

  “That’s a lifetime right now,” Matt said.

  “Alter, take fire control,” I said.

  “I can handle both,” she replied.

  “No, I’m flying,” I insisted.

  “Half power on the cannons?”

  “They should already be set. Hold on.”

  I guided Head Case into a tight turn, twisting the stick and peeling away from a flurry of ion blasts before ducking low and breaking for the underside of the nearby Sentry. Our return fire poured out of our cannons, the Star of Caprum providing more than enough energy to keep them going, especially at half power, for some time. Respecting our defenses, the starfighters spread out, trying to get safer attack angles on us.

  Throttle already near max, we continued gaining velocity as I zigged and zagged beneath the second Royal Sentry, sticking close to the hull to keep the ship’s guns from being able to join the fight. Starfighters trailed behind us like a swarm of bees, angrily stinging our shields while trying to avoid the rear-facing cannons sending hot ions back their way. I swung Head Case on a new course, guiding the ship lengthwise toward the Sentry’s thrusters, counting the seconds that were passing too slowly.

  A fresh pain in my lungs caught me off-guard, and I nearly let go of the stick as I bent over in a new coughing fit, more blood spilling out of my mouth as I heaved. Feeling worse than before despite my adrenaline, I fought to open the augmented reality interface to pass navigation control.

  “Alter, you have the stick,” I managed to wheeze out as I reluctantly made the transfer.

  “I have the stick,” she replied, remaining calm as I slumped back in my seat. “I’ll get us out of here, Ben.”

  She turned Head Case again, passing out from under the Sentry’s hull and making a sharp angle up over the top, shooting away from all of the huge ships.

  “What are you doing?” I said softly as the starfighters peeled away instead of giving chase. “They’re going to fire disruptor torpedoes, just like last time.”

  “I know. We can outrun them.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  We continued moving away from the Sentries. Only a few seconds passed before the computer buzzed warnings in my ears and the sensor grid showed the warships had attained target lock on us. Alter didn’t try to break the lock, staying on course as nearly thirty torpedoes launched from the fleet.

  Alter pushed the throttle all the way to max, staying on a straight line as the torpedoes approached and the hyperspace computer worked on the path, readjusting for our new heading. Thirty seconds felt like such a long time. What coordinates had she put in for our destination?

  “Keep, are you clear of the hangar?” she asked.

  “I’m clear,” he replied.

  “Ben, when I say the word, open the hangar bay doors,” she said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Just do it.”

  I trusted her enough not to argue with her, navigating to the setting and doing my best to stay alert for her signal. Heart racing, vision blurred, stomach churning, I had a sense that once the chase was over and I lost consciousness like I knew I would, there was a pretty good chance I wouldn’t wake up. Glancing back at Matt, meeting his gaze, the way he looked at me suggested he thought the same. We exchanged a simple nod. Nothing more was really needed to transmit the way we felt. My best friend, a brother to me, all I wanted was for him to make it out of here.

  The torpedoes continued closing the gap, the seconds ticking away at a painful pace. At ten seconds out from the jump, the sensor grid estimated ten seconds to impact. If life were a movie, this would be the height of tension leading to the climax where we would get away by the skin of our teeth. Or maybe the film would end there, leaving the viewer on a cliffhanger waiting to see if we had really survived. Too bad this wasn’t a movie. This was real, and the happy ending, or even the challenging but overall hopeful ending was hardly guaranteed.

  At five seconds, Alter cut the throttle completely and threw Head Case into a tight spin, rotating the head around to face the oncoming torpedoes. “Ben, now!” she snapped.

  I almost missed the chance, my hand shaking so much I only caught the edge of the button on my swipe at it. Three seconds later, the hangar doors slid open. Alter pegged the forward vector jets to full power, and she must have turned off the counter-inertial systems too because I was pulled roughly forward in my restraints, the straps so taut they dug into my chest, further restricting my already ragged breathing.

  The universe in front of Head Case was filled with the brilliant blue of the many ion trails stretching out behind the torpedoes powering toward us, ready to detonate against our shields. An eclipse in the shape of the Empress’ starhopper disrupted the light as space started bending around us. Pulled from the hangar by both the escaping air and the force of our acceleration, the vessel drifted between us and the warheads, the first torpedo striking it and going off, igniting the others in rapid succession. The energy of the detonations expanded like fireworks on the Fourth of July as we entered hyperspace, leaving Atlas behind.