The Honour of the Knights by Stephen J. Sweeney (books to read to be successful .TXT) 📕

felt himself start to drift out and he made sure he had a good grip on the control of his propulsion pack. He noticed how Chaz continued to stare at the soldiers on the other side of the glass, even as he floated out beyond the chamber. Dodds slowed himself, catching sight of the big man's expression and noting it to be one of pure hatred for the invaders.

He looked back to the corridor and saw the soldier who had been marking the door snap their gun back and turn back down the corridor with his team mates.

“They're coming after us,” Chaz's voice came in his earpiece. “They're not going to give up that easily.”

“Oh, hell! The freighter's gone!” Kelly said.

Dodds looked all around himself, seeking to disprove her. Unfortunately, she was right. The only visible vessel was one bearing the Imperial coat of arms, docked onto the side of the port; likely being how the soldiers had entered. They had all been relying on the freighter's presence to help them get back into the cloaked ATAFs. But with their point of reference gone, finding the invisible craft now seemed like an impossible task.

He tried to think. He looked back to the starport and tried to trace a line from the airlock to where the freighter might have been. But for all his effort, he couldn't judge the distance or the heading; it was too hard.

“Chaz, what are you doing?” he heard Estelle ask. He saw the big man was aiming the plasma pistol, a small green bolt already streaking away from him. There was no answer from Chaz, who seemed to be concentrating at the task in hand.

He fired several more shots, in seemly random locations. The three shots sailed unhindered out into space. The man adjusted his aim to target a different region, but, as before, the next two bolts also failed to land a target. The next shot he fired also disappeared into the depths, then, with his next attempt, his plan revealed itself to all.

The plasma bolt found its mark and, just as Parks had warned, the unmistakeable form of an ATAF lit up before their eyes, the shielding reacting to the hit and looking as if someone had thrown luminous green paint all over it. There it remained but for a scant few seconds before it began to fade from view.

“There!” Chaz said, drawing everyone's attention to the withering green ripples outlining the fighter.

“Stay here,” Estelle ordered the others and sped over to the fighter before starting to ease herself through the shielding. Despite the need to re-enter the fighter as quick as she could to assist the others, she had to take her time pushing herself through the layers of tough protection; a task that could not be accomplished without patience.

Before long, she disappeared from view. A short while later, the fighter she entered was lit with waves of cyan ripples, blue bolts streaking out from the nose of the craft. They hurtled forward, striking objects not far away, revealing themselves to be the four other ATAFs. Estelle was using the mag cannons; she wasn't about to dare using the main guns – they could do more harm than good.

Dodds sped over to the nearest visible craft to him and, just as Estelle had done, started pushing himself through the starfighters' shielding, all the while glancing uneasily back at the Imperial lander that was still latched onto the side of the port. At any moment, it could detach itself and start after them. He was surprised it was taking them this long.

He guessed that the soldiers...

What was it that man had called them? Pandora..? Pandoran?

... had encountered refugees that had escaped their attention before and wanted to finish the job before giving chase, even if the airlock escapees were of a greater threat. He was soon settled back into the seat of the ATAF and began stabbing at the buttons and controls in front of him, bringing the systems back on-line.

“Everyone ready?” Estelle said. There was a resounding confirmation from all and, as one, the Knights turned their still veiled ATAFs around and moved away from the starport, and back towards Griffin.

An explosion reflected off Dodds' canopy and he looked around to see the transport craft that had been attached to the port had been destroyed. The port began to vent air, bodies, and other materials as it depressurized. A black body spun out of the hole that had been ripped in the side of the port, in wake of the transporter's destruction. The figure made futile attempts to stop itself from drifting further into space, but was unable to do anything about their slide.

Dodds caught the green outline of an ATAF just as it faded from view, swinging around to rejoin the group.

“Just making sure,” Chaz said.

As they hurtled away from the port, Dodds looked back around to see that the black-suited body of the soldier was still moving, a lot longer than should have been possible. In his mind's eye, frightening images were painted:

Though the ATAF was invisible, the soldier began to swim through space towards him, gaining on him despite the incredible speed of his starfighter. After all, what was the lack of oxygen and warmth to one who had survived injuries that would have killed an ordinary human being? Latching onto the ATAF's canopy, it punched straight through to him, the shields and the canopy itself no match for its incredible strength. The soldier grabbed him by his flight suit, wrenching him from his seat and out into space, the buckles doing nothing to save him. Drawing again on its unimaginable strength, the soldier punched easier through his flight helmet, shattering the tough visor and draining away all his oxygen. There it held him in an unbreakable grasp, waiting for him to die; until finally releasing him and leaving his lifeless body to float through space forever, his friends able to do nothing more than look on in horror.

The soldier's limbs did eventually cease their flailing, but by then Dodds was not surprised by what he had seen. It would not have been a shock to him if it had made an attempt to chase them, cloaked or not.

* * *

“He would make an excellent politician,” Estelle said to Dodds. She had spent some of the journey back to the carrier questioning Chaz and attempting to ascertain an explanation for his behaviour at the starport. As expected, he was not very forthcoming with answers and Estelle had soon given up. She would get the explanation she was after once she had submitted a report. No doubt senior command would be very interested in Chaz's actions themselves and in the end she would get closure; even if it took several months.

“Managed to answer the question without actually answering it?” Dodds said.

“Precisely.”

“I'm just grateful to get out of there.”

He too had many questions of his own, none that he knew would be answered any time soon. Most worrisome of all, Chaz's statement: They're a mistake. If that was a mistake, he didn't want to think what the original intention was supposed to be. The past few hours had been unlike any he had experienced in his entire life.

The journey continued in relative silence, the five pilots happy to take a breather from their recent experiences. Heading back to Griffin, Dodds felt as though he was waking from a terrible nightmare; albeit one with many memorable cuts and bruises.

XXIV

— Friends Like These —

“Captain.”

Parks looked up from his musings, to see Liu swing around in his chair, wearing a relieved expression.

“Scanners are indicating that CSN Ifrit has just jumped into the system and has started making its way toward our position. Based on their current velocity, they'll be with us in a little under thirty minutes.”

Parks joined the helmsman by his console. Sure enough, the medium-range radar was showing a green triangle moving towards the centre of the display.

“Thank God,” Parks said. He felt some of the pressure that had been weighing down upon him starting to lift. In the hours following the Knights' departure, Parks had overseen the crews' efforts to bring the ship back up to a manageable, working condition. It had not been easy, but with a lot of effort they had managed to restore shields, engines, jump drives, and some weapons systems. And whilst they would not be able to fend off any major attacks or launch fighters, they were at least in a position to return home.

With the advent of Ifrit's arrival, all that now remained was to await the Knights' return and they could at last leave Phylent and begin the journey home. Parks may not have managed to secure the recapture of Dragon, but he would have prevented valuable information from falling into the hands of the Enemy. That, at least, was something to be thankful for.

He turned to Weathers, who had taken the place of O'Donnell on the bridge. “How are the comms systems?”

“They should all be functioning correctly, sir,” Weathers said. “We are still experiencing limited performance with shielding, weaponry and engines, but communications are operating perfectly.”

“Good. Once Ifrit is close enough, send them a welcome message on short-range broadcast only. Relay our current situation to them and let them know we are ready to leave as soon as the White Knights return.”

“Yes, sir,” Weathers said.

Parks returned to his seat to await Ifrit's arrival. Their fellow Confederation carrier was travelling towards them head-on and, from his seat, out the main viewport, he was able to see various aspects of the ship springing into detail the closer it grew to them.

But as Ifrit bore down on Griffin's location, Parks started to grow uneasy and could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. The carrier was well within visual range, now less than about twenty kilometres out, and devouring the distance at a rapid pace. From the looks of things, it would be on top of them much sooner than Liu had at one time predicted. He subconsciously sat a little more upright and further forward in his seat.

Parks looked to Weathers, “Karen, has Ifrit acknowledged our HELO?”

“Not yet, sir. Should I send it again?”

“No,” Parks shook his head. “First, recheck the comms systems. Mr Liu, perform a full system diagnostic. Let's be sure that our message was transmitted in the first place before we begin bombarding them with repeat broadcasts.”

“Yes, sir,” Liu said, then a minute later, “All tests have completed successfully.”

“Comms are still functioning correctly, Captain,” Weathers added. “Though, it might have been a glitch in the system.”

Parks wasn't so sure. Something wasn't right. “Send the greeting again,” he said.

Weathers complied, but there was still no answer. Ifrit's form continued to grow larger as it closed the distance between the two carriers, showing no signs of slowing. It was barely a few hundred meters from them now.

As Parks rose from his seat and walked to the front of the bridge, he heard consoles up and down the deck begin to whine, and knew right then that his worries had been confirmed. He looked to Liu at the same moment the man turned to him.

“Captain, Ifrit is readying weapons!” Liu said, the former look of relief wiped clean and replaced by a picture of panic.

“Red alert!” Parks said. “Full power to shields now!”

The words hadn't even left his mouth when Ifrit's guns opened up, the full barrage directed straight towards its almost defenceless former partner in battle. Bright green light from bolts of plasma intermixed with thick red beams of laser fire, the tiny blue and cyan particle trails of missiles almost lost in between.

The opening volley hit Griffin's shields hard and the already damaged power generators were quick to buckle to the intensity of the onslaught. Parks found his seat just as an enormous spray of bright blue splinters erupted from Griffin's bow, signalling both the collapse of the shielding and the vulnerability of the vessel to the hail of fire that followed.

“Return fire!” Parks barked. For what it's worth.

Griffin's own cannons trained themselves on Ifrit, but their efforts were futile at best, the carrier never having made a full recovery from the battle hours earlier. The rate of return fire Griffin was able to muster was nothing compared to that which Ifrit continued to pour on.

Explosions scorched the bow and topside of Griffin, the impacts of concentrated plasma fire ripping holes in the already vulnerable hull. All about the ship, crew were thrown to the floor as the carrier jerked with the unrelenting attack, Parks himself only just managing to remain in his seat. The captain witnessed one of the two plasma