Kicking Ashe (17 page)

He is less stupid than I thought.

She thought about telling him to be nice, but he probably thought he was being nice.

“Could my brother exist in one of these?’ He traced another time wave. “Could we save him? His ship?”

“We aren’t sure we can save us. This is—” She had no clue what this was. It did look like a fault line cutting through the impact zone on the screen, additional fissures branching out like limbs and all of it apparently enclosed in normal time. But why here? Why now? It had started before Shan arrived—

And that’s when she realized that the epicenter was shifting position.

“Crap on a cracker,” she said. “It’s stalking us.”

Not us. It started before we arrived, brought us here. It’s after him.

Usually she liked the
aha
moment. Wasn’t feeling the love this time, though. And if that weren’t cracker crap enough, warning sirens blared. Another screen showed why.

A Zelk ship. One Zelk ship should be easy—two, three, no four more popped into view. Six Zelk ships. Two big mothers and four, pissy, smaller ones.

Make that a lot of crap on a freaking cracker.

* * * *

Shan still had many questions, saw much that was unclear in this time tracking screen of Ashe’s, realized how much he did not know. But he did know how to fight Zelk. He threw himself into the command sling, strapped in with swift, sure movements, then dropped his hand into the controls. Shields surged up. Weapons went hot. He activated the co-pilot’s sling for Ashe. Heard the grind of gears as it emerged from the deck and locked in place.

“Strap yourself in.” Heard the tone of command in his voice and tensed for her response—

“Yes, sir.”

Good, she could take orders, not just give them.

Battle screens appeared, one by one. Tracking showed all six Zelk craft on high alert, but no weapons lock yet. That was unusual. He had not bothered to cloak, assuming it was already too late when they dropped into normal space. All six were on a course that would bring them close, if not across their position so why did they remain in their standard defense formation? Not a typical Zelk reaction. He started a life signs scan. Zelk life signs did not register, but if his brother were on one of the ships—he got a hit. One of the smaller ships had a single human life sign.

He brought the scan screen forward for her, highlighted that ship, gave her a look with the order. “We do not destroy this ship.”

She appeared to want to say something, but after a pause, merely nodded. A slight smiled edged her mouth. “Six to one.” She was back in that place of steely calm.

“An opportunity to excel.”

That earned him an approving look. “We’re tweaking your firing solutions and weapons power usage. You should get a better result and faster recharge rate.”

He wanted to object, but before he could, he saw the difference on his battle screens. They’d need all of that and more to survive this opportunity to excel. He glanced at Ashe and caught her studying him. He had time to study back. Not sure how much, but enough, so he used it to learn her face. He was a man. She was a woman worth the time. If this was his final day…

Her skin had turned iridescent again, her gaze seeming to flick between the battle screens she should not be able to see. The edges of her mouth curved, as if what she saw pleased her.

“A good day to kick some Zelk trash.” Her brows arched, as if in sudden thought. “You are going to let us be part of the party, aren’t you?”

He arched a brow. Her time expert was also a battle expert?

“I do love to shoot.” She grinned, provocation in her eyes, as her iridescent fingers flexed.

He was a fair shot, but he knew the ship better. He should have hesitated, would have before—but something had changed and not just because she hadn’t shot him in the back. Trust for her was there, and more. He felt confidence, felt as if it had always lived in him. Had they done this before? Fought together? He transferred weapons control to her chair.

“After we kick their trash, I’m so going to kiss you on the mouth.”

His lips twitched. “It is good to have goal.”

The new screen, the time tracking screen showed the epicenter drawing close, the cone of its tail passing, then wrapping back around them. His ship rocked. It heaved. Went almost transparent, but this time his view was into the hungry maw of space. Almost felt as if it debated whether to eat them or leave them for the Zelk. Felt like a small eternity—the wave subsided and more sirens blared as the Zelk squadron began to react, their formation collapsing and reforming for attack.

“I do believe they see us, Commander.”

The distance between the six ships began to alter, the two larger, slower ones staying on direct course, while the smaller ones moved to flank their position. He noted the one with the human life signs took a less aggressive position. Once before he’d seen a ship do this. When it became clear the Zelk would lose the battle, it had fled, jumping into hyperspace just ahead of a kill shot. If it weren’t for that life sign, he’d have made it his personal mission to take it out.

Port landing rockets fired, just enough to kick them out of position seconds before the first volley of opposing fire tracked over where they’d been. Clever. He’d never considered using landing rockets in such a manner.

He used her move to tighten his control of ship movement, spun them in a tight circle, bringing his forward guns around. As soon as they hit prime firing position, energy lasers made a bright path toward one of the smaller ships. It exploded in a ball of fire that flared against his shields.

Shields down ten percent.

He used the debris to aid him as he threaded the ship between the cross fire from the remaining ships. It helped that they needed to avoid shooting each other while shooting at him. He used that, used it against them in a complicated battle dance. It seemed as if Ashe timed her fire to aid his dance.

“Nice moves.” Like the perfect dance partner, she used his moves to lay down fire from forward and rear weapons, forcing one of the ships to fall back to avoid the hit.

He’d used some similar moves in his last skirmish with the Zelk. Did the coward ship remember? Think it knew him? Would they, could they learn to expect the unexpected from him? Time to find out. He keyed in the spinning dive he’d used last time, then gave it a last minute twist. His movement took him too close to Timrick’s prison. This ship retreated, though not without firing at them. He tensed as laser fire tracked toward it. “Ashe—”

“Trust me,” Ashe muttered, her tone coolly absent, as if her focus was where it should be. “I don’t just like to shoot. I’m good at it.”

Her shot stabbed into the engines, with a precision that left the rest of the ship undamaged. It staggered away, its systems blown and useless—though life support and some weapons still functioned.

“Excellent.” Shan steered a new course, drawing the remaining combatants away from the damaged ship—and them out of range of its remaining weapons. The odds were now four to one.

Once clear, he sent them in a wide turn. His weapons spat again and another Zelk ship made a permanent and fiery exit from his tracking screen. Three to one. The remaining pilots had some skill, boosting his feeling he’d met them in battle before.  They appeared to anticipate his moves. The wild card was Ashe. He did not know what she’d do. So even if they knew his strategies, they did not know her. He made a tight turn to avoid a volley, felt it sizzle across his ship’s skin. Fire warnings went off, but suppression equipment reacted with dispatch.

She’d tweaked more than firing solutions, he decided as he picked their way between more deadly crossfire. A touch to the afterburners lifted the ship over the last fire run.

Ashe used his movement to score hits on each ship, though they remained functional. For now. He jinked, then dropped, the engines roared a protest. Rocked as something not weapon’s fire impacted their shields.

The distraction cost him as a Zelk got weapons lock on them. He tried to spin away, even as the track of energy fire reached—and passed through them. His ship shuddered as if they’d been winged on the backside by this mysterious and unfriendly fire.

“Our ship was in a different time from the shot, except for our tush.” Ashe gritted out the words as she fired back. Scored a shield hit on one of the larger ships. Took their shields down some, but not enough.

How was he supposed to fly against ships and time?

“Trade with me,” Ashe said, her firing runs painting deadly patterns in the space around them. Gave them a brief moment of safety as the Zelk craft dodged out of position to escape. “Lurch and I can fly. He can see the time waves.”

No time to hesitate or think. He switched the controls, felt the weapons respond to his touch now as his ship changed its dangerous dance through space. Felt the change in pilot to his toenails.

When the ship dropped in front of a Zelk firing run, he almost protested—until this beam of lethal light also passed through the ship without making contact. They were using the time waves to deflect, to hide. They? He lacked time to ask or even wonder how this Lurch had gotten on board. Or where he was.

They jinked his ship up giving him a near perfect firing solution. He used all his forward weapons could give him, focused them at the Zelk attack ship holding the point of the triangle with an arrogant confidence. With the boosted firing solutions, his shots punched through their shields and into their power core like a fist. He felt his ship strain to turn away from the fiery ball in their path. Didn’t wholly clear it. They passed through its edges, heat licking hungrily at their shields. Damage reports scrolled across his side vision. He ignored them. Ignored warning lights. Sounds. Focused only on the last two Zelk ships.

These were the largest of the Zelk craft, had the heaviest shielding. And lances that could pierce shields and metal, could stab into the heart of his ship if they weren’t fast enough. She brought his ship in close, too close. He opened his mouth to protest, even as he prepared for her run—he fired on the under belly of one ship. The lance scraped across the port side, then they were clear, spinning to avoid the other ship.

“Their ships are as spiky as their soldiers,” Ashe muttered behind him.

Shan frowned when he felt the ship turn away from the battle, not full throttle, almost as if they’d lost some power. The two Zelk turned to follow, the bulky ships taking longer to make the turn.

“That’s right. Come after us,” Ashe murmured.

Shan considered firing rear rockets, but the angles were wrong. His fingers ready, he watched the larger ships begin to close, each moving to a flank, both intent on piercing his ship from both sides. What—

“I see them,” she said, as if he’d spoken. “Come to mama. Just a little closer.”

Shan did not know how she planned to survive, but he did know what he needed to do, if they managed to evade the two killing blows. Her track would bring them close to the ships’ vulnerable under bellies. He prepped his firing solutions.

Ashe dropped their forward speed some more and the Zelk ships responded eagerly.

He learned forward, his eyes on his screens, his fingers on his fire controls.

His ship kicked forward a bit. As if they’d found more power. He felt the Zelk straining toward them. Felt them closing, slowly closing. They weren’t even yet, but in seconds they’d be able to lance—

She throttled back hard. The ship shuddered. Other alarms registered screaming protests. They passed between the two ships as the lances tracked toward them. One scraped across the side of his ship. One ship tried to angle toward them. Instead the two lances tangled, twisted with loud shrieks of protest.

A chunk of metal spiraled toward them. Fire licked its side, almost obscuring the Zelk symbols.

Their tail dropped.

Pushed the nose up, pointed right where it needed to be.

He fired a spread toward their exposed bellies. All shots stabbed into the Zelk craft, blooming into bigger and bigger explosions as they triggered secondary explosions. His ship dropped position again, turned to evade as fire and debris tumbled in every direction.

He felt a sudden jolt, as if they passed through something solid. His ship slowed, so did the metal tumbling toward them. All of it unnaturally slow. Even his thoughts, reactions felt slow.

A large chunk seemed drawn to their nose, on a path for the view screen. He braced. Not sure it would hold. Seemed to take forever.

It reached the shields. Passed through them.

Reached point of impact—came through the ship’s skin as if it weren’t there, through him.

Most disconcerting. He turned—it felt slower than slow—watched it pass out of his sight on the other side of the bridge. More pieces followed it through the ship, through him. Around him.

One passed Ashe. Slow. So slow. Her mouth opened. Seemed to take a small eternity. If she spoke, he didn’t hear—

“Cra-a-a-ap.”

The word came to him in pieces, took forever for all the short word to reach his ears.

His alarms squeezed out, sluggish and discordant.

More impacts. He made a slow trip against the straps holding him in the sling. Then longer for the recoil against the seatback.

More warnings sounded.

A slow motion ship report scrolled down the systems screen.

Attitude control gone.

Forward weapons down.

Atmosphere breach on lower deck.

Inertial dampeners partially off line.

Helm not responding.

Steam streamed from all sides, obscuring much, heightening the sense of slow time by the way it crept toward him…

Felt the slow roll as he lost control of ship’s movement.

Another prolonged slam against the straps.

Then the long slow roll the other direction. The measured slam against the seat back.

A hit from a new direction and then sudden, swift drop into a deep, dark void.

SIX

The clawing climb back to awareness was very déjà vu—no, that wasn’t right. Déjà vu was the familiar that wasn’t familiar. This was not only familiar, she’d been here, done this, was so over it. The hiss of released pressure told her that it wasn’t exactly the same. Not a pit, but a ship. As if he’d been waiting, Lurch fed her the ship’s damage report. A bit surprised to get it, cause her last memory was of them getting a serious ass kicking. She studied the report cause it was inside her head and she didn’t have to open her eyes to do it. And it took her mind off the places that hurt.