one edge of the asteroid as it ejected half a dozen improvised high explosives out of the rear cargo bay. Pressed out by the escaping atmosphere they drifted towards the asteroid and exploded as they bounced against the rough stone.
Anyone who was looking out a porthole in that direction just then was blinded by the white light of the explosion and superheated surface of the asteroid. The Samson and six of her escorting fighters shot straight for the hypertransmitter, all their weapons turning to the fore.
To any of the fighters unlucky enough to be in the way it appeared as though the vessels were coming out of a small sun, and for the pair of small enemy fighters that managed to manoeuvre away from the small group of ships there were half a dozen that were picked to pieces by high intensity particle bursts and rail guns that cycled through twelve hundred rounds per minute. “This is Hardcase, all fighters break and get ready to cover the Samson while she picks up the package.”
The fighter group moved out of the range of the Samson's spiny shield projectors and as the shock and overwhelming attack on the senses of the flares dissipated Finn breathed a sigh of relief as the shield profile shrunk back down to the shape of the Samson itself.
They immediately began taking fire from their port and dorsal sides, where the bulk of the fighters were milling, swarming to escape the devastating guns on the dorsal side of the Triton. “There you are, time to shut ye down!” Frost exclaimed under his breath as he targeted the hypertransmitter and opened fire with the ion cannon. A fighter got in the way, taking a full blast and as the operation of its internal power systems were completely disrupted the energy reading on it dropped to near zero. “Oi! To the side!” he shouted at the disabled fighter as he pounded the control panel.
Ashley manoeuvred the Samson around the lazily drifting snub fighter and cringed as she heard small shells strike the outer hull. “Better?”
“Aye!” Frost replied as he took aim with the Ion turret and set it to full power. With the glimmering silver hypertransmitter satellite, the most valuable object in the area pound for pound, directly lined up in the crosshairs he opened fire and didn't stop until he drained the power cells connected to the weapon. When the halo of energy left behind from the blasts of the Ion cannon subsided the power readings indicated that the device had shut down. “She's asleep! Time to have our way!”
“I'll never see what Stephanie sees in you,” Ashley commented as she rotated the body of the ship in the direction of the hypertransmitter and fired the engines so they moved in a perfect line towards it. “Fighters, keep our path clear!”
“Hardcase here, we're on it!”
Ashley grinned at the pilot she'd seen several times in the pilot's den. He was shorter than her by eleven centimetres and was always smiling. While growing up he had learned to fly an old air hopper and as soon as he got his licence he was transporting parts for a commercial excavation operation. He had a natural knack for all things in the cockpit. After he whipped through the fighter pilot tutorials he passed the qualifier on the first try. Within a week he became one of their top pilots and Ashley had recommended he lead the small group of Uriel fighters covering them.
Her jaw dropped as the navigational display noted his fighter was destroyed just then, leaving no emergency beacon. She stared at the notification and the display as the profile of his Uriel fighter became just another obstacle, a grouping of heated, twisting metal.
“Ash, focus,” Larry said from beside her. “We're coming up on it.”
She cleared her throat and focused on the task at hand, making one final minor adjustment to their course as the remaining three fighters along with the gunners on the Samson fought tooth and nail to keep their path clear. The Samson shook and rocked violently, turning just slightly.
“Engine three is gone, shields down to eighteen percent, draining our reserves to compensate!” Finn announced.
“Compensating for the missing pod.” Larry announced beside her.
“We've rotated too much, turn us back or we'll smash into the satellite side on!” Frost called out.
Ashley didn't let the controls reset, but manually rotated one of the port engine pods and fired it, guessing at how much thrust they'd need to make a good capture with the maxjack. As the ship slowly rotated she lined up the other pods as quickly as she could to slow the Samson down so it and the satellite wouldn't be destroyed when they made contact. The engines fired at full power. No one knew whether it was enough and as the many controls reset everyone held their breath.
“We're comin' in too fast!” Frost called out, still standing at the ready at the maxjack controls.
“It'll have to do!” Ashley said the instant before the Samson collided with the hypertransmitter satellite. The sounds of gunfire were drowned out by the cataclysmic noise of the hull crushing, screeching and grinding into the object.
“God dammit!” Frost shouted as he tried to manipulate the maxjack, to get a grip on their target.
“Breaches in five compartments, sealing sections off. Half our lower shield emitters are dead, I'm compensating!” Finn reported. “Somehow,” he muttered to himself.
“Do you have it Frost?” asked Ashley in a rush.
Frost struggled with the controls of the maxjack, trying to work with the working gripper arms he had left, activating magnetic capturing fields and pressing the satellite against two of the largest curled arms that were stuck in position with no power.
“Frost, do you have it!” Ashley repeated, waiting to take the newly calibrated controls and try to get the Samson out of danger.
“Shut it! You're not helpin'!” he snapped back.
“Is it possible?” Finn asked.
“Nay! I don't think-” Frost started but was interrupted as the whole ship shuddered violently and alarms sounded for two seconds before Finn shut them down.
“That was a heavy collider shell, ran us straight through, sealing two non-essential compartments and shutting down a line of capacitors! We have to get out of here!” Finn said as he watched the ship's power reserves and generation capacity drop drastically.
“Frost! Do we stay or do we go?” Ashley asked harshly.
“That did it! The thing is impaled on one arm and I could trap it with one of the ones that still work! Go! Fer all that's holy! Get us out o' here woman!”
“Finally!” Larry commented as he started plotting a hyperspace course. “You have to get us clear of this mess before we can start hyperacceleration.”
Ashley looked at the summarized status display as she fired the engines and tried to start the Samson in the right direction, towards the nearest edge of the combat area. The report told her that their shields were down to nine percent and didn't effectively cover the aft end of the ship, that they had six open compartments, and that there were only two fighters left. “Fighter wing, get out. Generate wormholes and escape now!” she ordered.
“Flightnut copies, I'm gone!”
“Byfly copies, heading out!”
“Finn, give me a burst of hyperspace particles on my mark,” Ashley commanded.
“Ready,” was all he said as he turned white.
Larry worked feverishly to find a nearby, straight, clear path but couldn't locate one on the tactical hologram or screen in front of him.
“There! Right there! ” Ashley pointed to the asteroid behind them.
“You want to-”
“Send us in the opposite direction so fast they can't keep up,” she finished for him.
He plotted the course quickly, just over fourteen thousand kilometres. “At your peril,” he said, throwing up his hands.
“More like-” Frost started.
“Two, one, mark!” Ashley interrupted loudly.
Finn's hand came down on the final initiation button for the particle emitters to send a burst of hyperspace particles out across the hull of the Samson and their cargo that would allow them to accelerate at many times the normal rate and for a split second the Samson increased speed at a rate of several thousand kilometres per second, effectively stopping it's motion in one direction fast enough to begin sending it careening recklessly towards the
