“Let’s just focus on one thing at a time,” Shy said.
They flew through the clear sky, witnessing one destroyed village after another. No one had escaped the chaos. Small cities were either ashen skeletons or still-burning wrecks, but no Varg wandered in the snow. The planet was deserted. Tayel braced herself as they ascended over a mountain range. The coordinates on the dashboard ticked closer to their destination.
“Xite.” Shy pulled back the throttle to bring her ship to a hovering standstill above the range.
Fehn leaned forward. “Is that—?”
“It’s Kalanie Outpost.”
The small city burned below. Hundreds of raiders assailed the walls surrounding the closely huddled buildings, where trails of fire ate away at the wood and stone. Varg — like tiny ants from this height — manned the walls, attacking the onslaught below.
“We have to help them!” Jace said.
Movement in the sky turned Tayel’s attention upward. Three ships beelined toward them. “Shy!”
“Dammit. Hold onto something,” Shy said.
Tayel gripped the back of the co-pilot’s chair as the ship accelerated. Jace toppled backward, but Fehn caught him mid-fall. The artificial muscles in his cyonic flexed as he tightened his grip on a handhold dangling an inch from the low ceiling.
Back-facing external cameras playing feed over the console showed both opposing ships fire long arcs of dark aether toward them. Shy swerved left, but not fast enough to avoid a direct hit. Electric shimmers erupted over the shields. The floor shuddered.
Tayel hugged the back of the chair as the ship took a hard right turn. Her feet slipped. Her fingers gave a little, weakened by the pull. She couldn’t stay standing. Shy leveled out and Tayel took the opportunity to stumble into the co-pilot’s chair, bracing herself against the console as the shields shuddered at another hit. The sharp metal grooves of inactive buttons bit into her arm as she resisted the pull of another tight turn.
Jace squawked, and something hard thudded against the wall. Tayel whipped around. Jace seemed fine, but Fehn gripped the back of his head, his face screwed up in pain.
Shy kept the ship level but sped up. Tayel could feel the speed in her bones.
“Go get in the harnesses!” Shy yelled. “I can keep us steady for a few moments, but hurry!”
“Got it,” Fehn grunted. He shuffled quickly toward the hold, gesturing for Jace to follow.
Tayel planted her feet on the even ground and pushed to a stand.
Shy snapped at her, “What are you doing?”
“H-harnesses are—”
“There is a perfectly good harness in that seat, Tayel!” She swore as she veered left. An arc of dark aether zipped overhead, and Tayel sat right back down.
Two straps dangled about her shoulders. She fumbled with them both, her hands slipping against the fabric. Each buckle clipped into place with a chunk, and she pulled on the strap to tighten the harness across her chest and hips. The whole ship trembled as an explosion erupted over the shield.
“Oh, Alhyt.” Shy pulled a mic from among the dangling equipment above her. “You two strapped in?”
A beat, and then Fehn’s voice crackled in reply, “Yeah, good to go.”
“Good.” She let the mic go, and it snapped back into place.
She pulled on the yoke, and the ship tilted toward the sky. Tayel’s body became lighter, lifting slightly out of the chair. They faced straight up toward space, but Shy didn’t stop. Tayel’s eyes widened. She tried to press herself back into the chair, but the ship angled past ninety degrees, turning upside down. A mixture of elation and fear rose in her chest as Jace’s cries echoed from the hallway. Jace’s cries, and Fehn’s laughter.
Shy leveled out behind two of their assailants and thumbed the hat switch on the yoke, steering the ship’s gimbal into alignment. A visualization of the underside weaponry recommended a trajectory on the console, but Shy’s focus on the equipment pulled her attention away from the sky. The third enemy ship dove at them from the side.
“Shy!” Tayel warned.
Shy snapped her head toward the viewport and drove the yoke downward.
An ear-shattering snap echoed through the walls as their enemy made contact with the hull. Shields blinked out of existence, flickering back as a warning icon emitted from the console. They were at forty percent capacity. Tayel dug her fingers into the armrests.
“No, no, no.” Shy took a hard turn downward as the three ships came around for another attack.
Arcs of aether flew overhead as she maneuvered left and right. Bursts of darkness exploded into the snow as they flew dangerously close to the ground. Tayel’s heart hammered. They took another hit. The shields dimmed. Twenty-six percent.
“Xite!” Shy grit her teeth and steered upward.
“Do you need help?” Tayel snapped.
“Of course I need help! Why the frag do you think there’s a co-pilot station?” She dodged another line of fire. “I can’t enact evasive maneuvers and target at the same time.”
Tayel swallowed. “Then let me help.”
Shy’s jaw set. She took a hard right.
“Shy.”
“Have you ever manned weapon systems before?”
“No.”
Shy burst out laughing, but she was anything but happy, judging by her narrowed eyes and scowl.
Tayel steadied herself against the console as the ship took another sharp turn. “But wouldn’t you rather me miss targets than chance our shields burning out because you can’t do both at the same time? I’m bound to hit something; there’s an assistive lock!”
Shy grit her teeth.
“Besides,” Tayel said, “I, uh, got passing marks in my aeronautics career workshop.”
“What does ‘passing marks’ mean?”
“Er, means I didn’t fail.”
“Oh ho!”
“Shy, come on.”
“Absolutely not.”
The shields cracked with another hit, and the cockpit lighting turned red with warning. Shy hissed through her teeth. Shields showed thirteen percent capacity. Tayel’s breath wavered. She imagined the engine exploding from a direct hit, consuming them all in flash fire.
“Okay,” Shy said. She flipped a switch under the dashboard, and the co-pilot station lit up. “Okay, xite, you have control of the weapons suite.”
Relief was temporary. Tayel’s stomach did a flip as dark aether fired to the side of them. Even with Shy paying all her attention to evading attacks, if Tayel couldn’t take the enemy down it would only be a matter of time until evasion wasn’t enough.
She gripped the yoke, and the underside gimbal twitched with the movement. “I’ll do the best I can, Shy.”
“I know.”
The ship veered, coming around for a pass on the enemy. Two of combatants split off, but the third one rushed forward. Tayel moved the yoke. The gimbal responded more fluidly than she expected, and she overshot, missing a potential target lock. She fired anyway, and bright green lasers darted through empty sky.
Guilt and anxiety made her shoulders rise up to meet her ears. “I’m sorry.”
“At least you got a shot off,” Shy said. She steered the ship out of enemy fire. “I’ll make another pass.”
A red light flashed on the console. Two lines followed Shy’s ship on the radar, closing distance fast.
“Shy, what do I—?”
“There’s a back-facing flak cannon loaded with heat-signature emitters.” Shy pointed to a switch on the co-pilot dash. “Wait until the missiles are within twenty meters.”
Tayel’s hand hovered over the button. Heat radiated from the console, warming her fingers. The two missiles closed in. Thirty meters. Twenty-five.