“I don’t know if I hate her or admire her for being so good,” Mara said. “As long as she keeps my ship in one piece, I think I’ll like her. Maybe.”
He knew that professional envy well—it kept him and the other squad pilots sharp, trying to outdo each other, trying to be the best. Right now he was the best, but he’d never let himself grow complacent. Complacency killed on Sayén, and it rendered a pilot obsolete in the Black Wraith Squad.
When they broke free from Ilden’s Lash, Kell felt a stab of disappointment. It was over too quickly. Yet his disappointment lasted less than a heartbeat, replaced by cold anger and readiness.
Just on the other side of the Lash, a PRAXIS battlecruiser waited for them.
The battlecruiser immediately opened fire. Kell took evasive maneuvers as he shot back. Fighting PRAXIS was his job, yet he always felt the same hard gleam of rage whenever he engaged the enemy, thinking of his ruined homeworld and all the other homes destroyed by PRAXIS’s greed. He burned for the time when the corporate monster lay in smoldering ruins. He would be the sonic hammer that smashed them apart.
A host of drones shot from the side of the battlecruiser, and these, too, fired on the Black Wraith.
“This is turning into a very long day.” Mara turned the turret to return fire.
Celene came through on the comm line. “Suggestions, Commander?”
“We can’t outrun them,” Kell answered, dodging a volley of plasma fire. “Can’t outshoot them.
Unless…What kind of weapons does the Arcadia have?”
“One plasma gun,” said Mara. “And the shields can’t take many hits. I’m a scavenger, not a soldier. The magnetic tow is her best feature.”
That caught Kell’s attention. “Towing capacity?”
Mara seemed to understand immediately. “Definitely something as large as, say, a battlecruiser.”
Over the secured comm, Celene chuckled. “I like the direction this conversation is heading.”
He sniped at the battlecruiser, darting close and then peeling back. As he hoped, the PRAXIS ship kept its attention on the Black Wraith, directing all its firepower at him. He swerved, dodged and shot, with Mara providing backup with her rotating gun. She took out half a dozen drones, their small, metal bodies exploding around the Black Wraith’s hull.
He gritted his teeth as one shot from the battlecruiser nearly clipped his wing. Gunfire streamed around them.
As he hoped, the PRAXIS ship ignored the Arcadia. It was just a scavenger trawler. Nothing to attract their attention. The Black Wraith was the prize.
“Celene, fly to the aft of the cruiser,” Kell directed.
“Copy that.” A moment later, she announced, “In position.”
Mara understood his plan, then got on the comm line and quickly explained to Celene how to deploy the magnetic tow. “Make sense?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do it,” Kell commanded.
“Aye, sir.”
The battlecruiser suddenly listed as Arcadia’s magnetic tow net fastened onto part of its aft fuselage. It tried to fight the net, but Mara’s words proved true. Arcadia had its hooks into the PRAXIS ship, hauling the much larger vessel around like a child pulling a toy.
“That’s it, baby,” Mara whispered, viciously gleeful. “Show those bastards what a scavenger can do.”
The battlecruiser attempted to fire back, but Celene had positioned the Arcadia in the enemy ship’s small area of lowered defense, where fewer guns were located. She towed the battlecruiser up, exposing its vulnerable underside. As drones rushed toward the scavenger ship, Mara unleashed a barrage of gunfire, picking them off like digiskeet.
Kell kept his guns occupied. He raced toward the PRAXIS ship, searching its hull. The battlecruiser tried to shift in space to line its guns up on him, but the Arcadia held it in place. Yes, there. He bared his teeth in a brutal smile. And unleashed the Black Wraith’s plasma guns, hammering into the battlecruiser’s side.
A bulwark collapsed beneath the onslaught. After a moment, the PRAXIS guns stopped. He’d damaged the main power to the weapons systems, and the enemy had no choice but to shut their weapons down.
But he wasn’t finished. He was the sonic hammer. As drones swarmed around the Black Wraith,
he targeted the battlecruiser’s propulsion system. Mara held the drones back long enough for Kell to decimate the engines. The moment he destroyed them, he turned his weapons on the remaining drones, and soon, there was nothing left of the bots but debris.
Celene disengaged the tow net. The battlecruiser now drifted like a blind, declawed macskacat, unable to move. Defenseless.
Part of Kell demanded he blast the battlecruiser into atoms, but a single Black Wraith didn’t have enough firepower to destroy the PRAXIS ship with one hit—only prolonged bombardment would do the job. Much as he wanted to wipe the damn battlecruiser off the star charts, he needed to get Mara, Celene and the Black Wraith to safety. And the fighter in him rebelled at the notion of attacking a powerless opponent. No honor in it.
The Arcadia came alongside the Black Wraith as he forced his blood to cool.
“You’ve earned yourself a few medals today, ladies.”
“Medals for everyone,” agreed Celene.
“And drinks.” Mara had her own strong opinions. “More valuable than medals.”
“Let’s go home,” said Kell.
“Home.” Mara spoke the word as if it was in another language. One she didn’t understand.
He wondered if he could teach her its meaning. Would his home be hers? He could fly and win a hundred combat missions, yet he understood that there were some battles he could never win by force.
Chapter Eleven
An 8th Wing carrier ship met them a few solar hours after they left the Smoke Quadrant and collected them like stray birds. Smiling 8th Wing troops and officers waited for them in the docking bay.
Applause echoed as she, Kell and Lieutenant Jur emerged from their ships—a far different experience from Mara’s last encounter with 8th Wing. She felt uncharacteristically shy at being the object of so much celebratory attention.
As she stood beside the Black Wraith with Kell and Jur, people thronged around them in a sea of gray uniforms. The silence of space made their clapping jarring and loud, their eager faces too bright, too demanding. She felt herself shrink away, seeking peace. Kell’s arm curved around her shoulders.
Immediately, she felt the chaos within her calm, a sense of anchoring when she would have floated away.
He knew this, instinctively, knew what she needed. She looked at him as applause and shouts of congratulations thundered. He did not revel in the attention, but he didn’t shun it, either. He looked like a man who expected to get the job done, and did exactly that. Tough, assured, and, to her eyes, achingly handsome. Familiar, yet wondrous.
How had he become so necessary to her in such a short amount of time? Planets formed over millions of years, yet her own system had changed tremendously within a few days. No wonder her gravity was out of alignment.
Kell saw her looking at him, and bent close. “Welcome home,” he murmured for her ears alone.
A confused flush spread through her. Home. Hers, if she wanted it to be.
Gods, she needed time alone to think.
8th Wing officers came forward, trying to look stern but largely failing.
“You look shocked to see me, sirs.” Kell drew himself up so he seemed, if possible, even taller.