Chapter 5 - Stalker Mk II

I looked up at the black ship with it's green markings. The only physical difference between this Stalker and my own was not only the age difference, but this one was sleeker, it's exhaust pipe smaller, therefore harder to target. This is the one I'm going to be flying. This is the one I'm going to trade for Ann. And if the trade doesn't go to plan, if Ann's dead. Then the ship goes boom. Disintergrated into dust by it's powerful self-destruct circuitry. And if she is alive and I manage to get out alive with her, it'll still be destroyed anyway. I should've seen this comming really. General Newark and the rest of his crew aren't ones for bragging about their technology, nor are they keen on the idea of other people using it. It's not selfish. They have their reasons. Perfectly valid reasons. The ship's lowered from it's place in the roof, the lift lock extending downwards. This is my mum's ship. I can smell her in the cockpit. A part of me can't believe that she'd give up a part of her job for someone she barely knows, but the rest of me accepts it, knowing what she's like. I'm one of the few people in existance who truly knows what she's like. I climb in. The set up's the same as in the older model, the one I have. I start it up. Register myself as a secondary pilot so I can get it off the lift lock without it thinking I'm trying to steal it and having it blow up in my face, taking half the station with it.

The control panels light up and the engines hum into life. The cockpit closes, seals and pressurises. Lucas is already out there, just beyond the traffic boundary. Possibly winding up traffic control with his acrobatics. My mum's in a specialised two seater in the lift lock next to me. Ann's gonna be riding with her and I'm gonna be riding with Lucas once this one goes up in smoke and metallic dust. Or at least that's how I'm hoping it'll turn out. I launch first, taking the route traffic control is giving me, my mum following closely behind, her military status giving her the leeway to do as she pleases amongst the freighters and various other ships. The coordinates to the planet Rylgarr are in the onboard computer. Ann's being held on the orbital station there. It's a three day journey, one that I intend to make without fuss. Lucas is up beside me on my right. My mum is on my left, our three ships forming a tiny V formation. They're letting me lead. It's weird. I'm so used to flying solo or in a muddled group with no formation. It's strange to see Lucas keeping pace with my mum. She's used to flying in formation. I think it's become a habit of hers, one I hope doesn't rub off on me or lucas.

''Three minutes 'till the inner jump point.'' Mum announces over the com.
I tap in a short code and a green light comes on, blinking steadily, teling me the hyper drive's online and ready. Mid-Space is being quickly left behind, a flickering dot in the distance, joining with the rest of the stars. We jump into hyper space when my mum gives the signal and the black space scenery ripples and stretches into a bright white stream around us, the center point a small black dot. I can't see the others around me. No active ship shares the same slip stream. The navigational computer is trying to keep up with the ship's location, flashing error every now and then before finding out where it actually is and carrying on like normal. There's no radar in the slip stream. The weapons don't work either and it's a straight jump, point to point like a dot to dot. You can turn a ship once you engage the hyper drive, but the force of the slip stream'll end up tearing it apart the seams, no matter how well built and strong the vessel is. So it's best not to try. If you end up with difficulties in the slip stream, it's best to drop out and pray to your god of choice that you don't collide with something. I may be a space racer, but that doesn't make me perfect. Of course I've hit my fair share of objects in the past when making an emergency drop-out. I've collided with other ships, satelites and meteors. Plus I've landed myself in a dense field of space debris, causing more damage to my ship than I intended. But that's the way of space travel. It's not all shiny and fun, like it's depicted in TV shows and some books. It's hard and it generally demands a natural talent for Rodent-like survival in any situation. A talent that most people don't have.

I put it into auto-pilot and let the ship's navigational computer follow the set course and set amount of time for the slip stream duration and kick back. I think about Ann. What's happening to her and why that bastard Onnotian decided to take her hostage. His demand for a Stalker fighter ship only reinforced the theory that Quicksilver was behind it. I could feel my eyelids dropping. I didn't want to sleep now. Not with so much on my mind. But the slip stream and cockpit faded to black.


I grunted awake as an alarm went off. I grabbed the control stick as the slip stream vanished, melted back into the black space that I recognised all too well. My radar blurred then cleared and I looked around. Lucas was up ahead a little way and my mum appeared just behind me from a twisted spider web of white. Another alarm went off. Four larger ships appeared on the radar and the computer instantly recognised them. A corrupted ID beacon on each ship, each one hacked into and changed so that the real owners couldn't locate their goods or ships. Assuming the owners had been spared. They were trying to box us in from different angles.
''Fight or flee?'' Lucas asked over the com, clearly itching to fight and blow some shoot up.
''I'm always in the mood to smack someone about. You?'' Mum asked over the com.
''If it means they won't chase us, then I dunno why we're still floating about here.''
Lucas and mum boosted off in opposite directions, weapons heated and shields at full capacity. I went straight forward, taking the larger ship in front of me on head first.
''You will surrender and die.'' Snarled the captain of the ship I was racing towards.
I ignored his request and let off three shots, the three twin blasts hitting different areas of the ship's shields as I flew low over it. I turned and came back at him from behind, rolling out of the path of a missile. An old ship. It was a converted frieghter with old weaponry and poor shields.

I had an energy bomb to drop and this pirate's weakest point was my target. I got his portside air lock in my cross hairs and watched as the white hot ball of energy was shot out of the hidden cannon in the nose of the ship. It ripped the pirate's shielding apart, the energy sending a power surge into the shield generators, leaving the ship open to attack. Four well aimed shots and the outer air loack door crumpled and was sucked from it's hinges into the abyss of space. I passed by low over the ship again, taking more shots at it, sending up small explosions that were big enough to screw up the crew's plans. I inadvertantly took out one of the top-side gun turrets in my random reign of fire, but I didn't care. I wanted to take out my stress on someone and kill. I came back round again, doing the same before lining myself up with the damaged air lock. Sure the pirate's were fighting back, but their weapons were slow and weak. Their missiles were easily avoided with a sharp eye and my own shields withstood the fire power of their remaining gun turrets. A twin shot landed in the back of the inner air lock door and several bodies were sucked out into the vacuum of space along with the crumpled lump of metal. But I didn't stop. I kept shooting, destroying what I could before getting bored with the pot shots and opening fire on the exhaust, ripping through an exterior fuel pipe, igniting the ship. I watched it get ripped apart by the explosion. I looked at the radar. One ship remained for a few more seconds before it flared violently and vanished. Nothing in this area of space now, but a mass of old debris.

We re-grouped and figured out how much further we had to go. We were a quarter of the way to Rylgarr. Half a tank of fuel left, just enough to get us to the next out post station. A quick check in, a status report and we're off again, engaging our hyper drives, surging onwards, back into the slip stream powering on towards the next out post station. Another eight hours and we'd be able to have a decent meal and a rest and have our ships re-fueled. I close my eyes again. But that's it. I can't sleep, so I just sit back and listen to the low whistling hum of the Stalker's engines. But it's sod's lore that when you say you're not tired, you generally catch yourself drifting off. And lo and behold, ten minutes later, I'm falling asleep.

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