Counterpower was the word that came to Hunter's mind, though it might have been whispered in his ear by the invisible voice that seemed to be following everywhere during this incredible adventure. In the confusion of the moment, it was hard to tell. The Sky Chiefs did not carry offensive weapons. They couldn't; it was against the very foundations of the Third Empire. But the Sky Chiefs did have the ability to hit incoming beams with something strong enough to neutralize them. They were called negative-energy weapons — a very Third Empire concept. When used properly, they were the perfect defense against just about any other weapon in the Galaxy.
But this was war, and the counterweapons could do more than just negate what was being thrown at them. As Hunter streaked toward the scene, he saw something else take place. It happened in less than the blink of an eye, and he didn't know whether it was caused by an imbalance in the two competing bursts of energy or an anomaly in the flight path of the Starcrasher. But when the REF ship let go with an enormous fusillade, it was hit by the Sky Chief counterpunch and turned back on itself. The REF's own X beams crashed back on it like a wave, smashing against its midsection and instantly splitting it in two. The rear half of the Starcrasher made a vain attempt to accelerate, but it was much too late. The entire ship disappeared in a huge nuclear cloud, which went back down into itself almost instantaneously.
The big starship, in effect, had shot itself down. As a witness to it, Hunter had to laugh grimly.
He knew the feeling…
Forty minutes now to the crossover time.
Another burst of chatter from Hunter's comm set. Someone else was in trouble. This time not near the planet's surface or in orbit. This time there was trouble out among the planet's rings.
The last ring surrounding Doomsday 212 was its largest. It orbited the dismal planet some 40,000 miles out. Unlike the inner rings, which contained smaller pieces of space debris that eventually turned into fire rocks, the fragments making up the outer ring were huge, some of them twenty to thirty miles across. They were all irregular in shape, and many of them tumbled endlessly. They made for a very dangerous piece of space to navigate.
They also provided the perfect place to hide a warship or two. Or even six.
The pilots of those ships carrying refugees lucky enough to escape the horror of Doomsday 212 had only one kind of flight plan in mind. They wanted to put as many light-years behind them as quickly as possible. While many of the rescue ships were the same vessels that dropped the refugees onto the planet in the first place, their commanders were intent on delivering their battered passengers to worlds farther down the Arm, where they could at least be safe from the madness of the No-Fly Zone. How they would eventually return to their home worlds would have to be determined later.
Ten of these rescue ships had found each other rising up from the smoldering planet at about the same time. Their holds filled with the confused, former REF prisoners, it took just a few bounces between the string comms for the ship commanders to agree to form up in a column and leave the area together.
They did this not so much for safety, but in case any ship suffered mechanical failure, the others could help it out.
But what the ship commanders didn't count on was one distressing constant: evil did not rest. It couldn't. It had to exploit itself anywhere and everywhere it could, at any opportunity, whenever, wherever it was found.
So while the battle back on Doomsday 212 was still raging, its outcome still teetering and undetermined, six ships belonging to the insidious REF had drawn away from the fray and had hidden themselves here, among the tumbling rocks, looking for unsuspecting vessels, whose occupants believed that they were finally safe from harm.
The convoy's pilots successfully navigated the largest of the outer ring's fragment clouds and saw only clear sailing ahead. But then their forward scanners lit up. Their comm sets erupted in static. That's when the half-dozen REF ships suddenly swooped down on them and positioned themselves directly over the center of the convoy.
At first, the convoy's commanders thought their viz scanners were wrong. After escaping from hell, how could they possibly run into this? But then their true visuals — their own eyes— confirmed the awful truth. The REF Starcrashers had them trapped. There was no way they could outrun them, no way they could fight back. They were doomed.
Or so it seemed.
From the point of view of those aboard the convoy, what happened next happened in less than a split second.
One moment two of the Starcrashers were just a mile above the lead ships, their weapons about to fire, when suddenly there was a great rush of flame and light and then two huge explosions. Hunter's machine went flashing by an instant later. Two blasts from his Z-guns, and just like that, two REF ships were reduced to subatomic dust.
But there were four left. And they quickly scattered.
Hunter keyed in on the nearest enemy ship. But again, he was faced with a Hobson's choice. If he took on this singular ship, the remaining three REF vessels would be free to attack the defenseless convoy. But if he protected the convoy, all four ships might get away. Actually, it was no choice at all.
Killing the REF was what he was doing out here. He bore down on the REF ship closest to him and opened fire. Again, he hit the control bridge first and then went after the vulnerable underbelly. He was moving much too fast for any of the REF's weapons to hit him. That was the ironic thing. Once he had them in his sights, he could dispatch the devils in an instant. It was getting enough of them in his sights that was the hard part.
This one went down under a ten-second barrage of his Z guns. Explosion, nuclear cloud, violent singularity, and then a cloud of subatomic dust. But in those precious ten seconds, the convoy and its three remaining antagonists were nearly a light-year away.
It took just an eyeblink for Hunter to catch up with them, but that's when he came upon a truly incredible sight on this long day of incredible sights.
As he came up on the convoy again, the REF ships were repositioning themselves for their one-sided attack. Suddenly, twenty-four distinct Z-beam bolts went right by the convoy and impacted squarely on the trio of REF ships. Three more explosions, three inverted mushroom clouds, three singularities. Three more clouds of dust. The convoy just kept on going; they'd had enough of this sick game.
An instant later, twenty-four streaks of light, traveling at incredible speed, went by Hunter like some kind of titanic solar storm.
But then they slowed down, and Hunter met them seconds later. He clenched his fist in a small triumph. The forces of good needed all the help they could get. And here was more help.
The second wave of United Planets ships, those "aliens" from outside the Galaxy, given a great push by the Great Klaaz, had flown right by the Omega Force and had arrived to join the battle.
Hunter escorted the two dozen gleaming spaceships down through the atmosphere of Doomsday 212.
He spoke to the fleet's commanders on the way and tried his best to explain the confusing situation below. There were still hundreds of thousands of innocents on the planet unaware that they had a chance to be rescued. At the moment, their safety had to be a top priority. With this knowledge, the Home Planets ships plunged right into the fray. They quickly added their substantial weaponry to protecting the six evacuation zones, helping the Sky Chiefs ward off the slippery REF ships, as well as attacking those REF troops on the ground trying to overrun the rescue sites.