“You too. Just be careful for a change would you?” she muttered, and laughed awkwardly. “I’ve got to go.” She glanced back to where Mara and Ashe still waited beside Jean-Baptiste.
“Stay safe Ryann,” she said tenderly, then turned, following Anders and Torrens who were now heading up the loading ramp and into the ship.
A few seconds later the Marianne’s landing lights sprang into life and the throb of her engines could be heard growing above the blaring alarms.
Another blast of incandescent light from the Luminal battleship beyond the Halion Belt lit up ice-field. The shockwave tore open the clouds, and to Ryann’s horror, one of the cruisers on the edge of the flotilla split completely in two. Several smaller ships anchored to it were caught in the explosion and blew apart in a bright blossom of flames.
“That battleship’s getting closer!” called Mara as the station rocked, the aftershock rippling through the fleet. “Let’s hope Grayell and the other Ghost-Runners can keep it out of the Halion Belt long enough for us to get in the air at least!”
“And then what?” cursed Ryann, but his words were snatched away by the roar of the Marianne’s engines as she rose up from the landing-pad, blasting off towards the exit. Ryann felt a pang of fear in the pit of his stomach as he caught a last glimpse of Angelique through the cockpit window.
“Where are those damn fighters?” he spat, staring impotently out to the battle.
As the Marianne burst out through the station’s docking shields, Ryann saw several drone-ships break off from their attack upon the Ibis. They looped over, streaking towards their new target, their guns slicing through the dark in beams of blue and green.
“Careful Angelique,” Ryann breathed to himself, as the squat shape of the Marianne swooped beneath one of the refugee ships, evading the incoming fire. For a moment he saw the Marianne’s aft turret open up on the pursuing craft before they were lost in the chaos.
Ryann turned back to survey the Ibis, still floating up beyond the refugee fleet. There were several small fires burning along her hull, but she looked operable. As he watched, the smaller shape of the Serena, listing from her damaged drives, detached herself from the bigger ship, her passengers now off-loaded.
She turned ponderously back towards the station, still under sporadic fire, though most of the Luminal fighters were now engaging the Marianna and the three Interceptors. Leaving a trail of smoke in her wake, the Serena began its slow journey back to the station.
“Another trip — we need time for one more trip,” muttered Grande, looking back over the fearful crowd.
“We can hold off the drones, but if that Luminal battleship gets into the Halion Belt, then we’re trapped here,” cursed Ryann.
“Then let us hope that your father and his fighters can keep them distracted and buy us enough time to escape.”
“There’s no way for the refugees to escape,” said Ryann. “They won’t stand a chance.”
There was a low boom as one of the Interceptors broke through the docking shields and came to rest on the landing pad with a heavy thump. Steam and smoke rose from its engines, and Ryann noticed numerous small blast marks along its sleek hull. He went to move, but Ashe was already running.
“I’ve got this!” she called out over her shoulder.
“Jean-Baptiste,” said Ryann, turning back to the big man. “I know there’s little chance of us getting out of this alive, but if we do, please won’t you reconsider showing us your ways back to the Luminal source?”
Grande didn’t look around, his gaze was fixed upon the Serena as she made her slow progress towards them.
“I know you mean well Ryann Wade,” he sighed. “But I have spoken oaths to protect the knowledge of my people. I wish you well, but I cannot help you further.”
Ryann went to press him to change his mind, but at that moment the final two Interceptors shot in through the shields and his words were lost in the blast of their engines.
“Go well Ryann Wade!” he heard the big man call over the chaos, but Ryann was already sprinting across to the landing pad, Mara Kobo at his side.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BACK IN THE FIGHT
Ryann pulled himself up the footholds to the Interceptor as the cockpit canopy was still opening, practically dragging the surprised pilot from his seat.
He glanced across to the ship alongside him and saw Mara do the same. For a moment he felt another pang of jealousy.
He shook his head, trying to focus as he saw Ashe power her Interceptor off the landing pad. It was instantly clear that the ship was in the hands of a pilot far more skilled than the Outlanders. The sleek little craft looked weightless as it rose up, its landing struts retracting.
There was a brief flash from its engines and the Interceptor accelerated almost faster than Ryann’s eye could follow. It flipped over in a dizzying spiral and shot out through the protective shields in a shower of sparks.
“Damn she’s good,” Ryann heard himself whisper as he leapt down into the cockpit, quickly scanning through the unfamiliar controls. It was years since he had flown anything other than the Raven, and the tight compression of the grav-seat moulding to the contours of his body felt claustrophobic for a second.
But then the adrenaline kicked in and he was suddenly back in the days of his youth when he used to race planet-surfers around the local debris-fields with his friends. He was crazier then, and hadn’t considered the consequences of sitting upon what was basically a quad-tuned pulse jet — he was constantly surprised that he had survived his youth.
He felt the familiar throb as the drives engaged, threatening to shake the whole ship apart.
No different to his old racer, he thought with a moment’s trepidation — except now he had four armour-piercing chain guns mounted in the nose of his ship and two ram-lasers slung beneath its stubby
