Mike was moments away from completing his pre-flight check of the *Halfbreed*’s external systems when he noticed something green and viscous dripping out of the back of his beloved craft.
It leaked with a certain slime-like quality out of the left engine, drooping like molasses into an acidic sizzle on the tarmac below. He let out a frustrated groan.
“Son of a b- *Aly!*” He called out, hoping that the Elf was in earshot. “The sublight engine’s on the fritz! Looks like we’ve got a coolant leak.”
He waited for a moment to hear her response, but all he got in return was the background noise of a bustling starport in the midst of a busy afternoon. He clucked his tongue and removed his leather jacket, carefully folding it and hanging it on a nearby antennae that protruded at a perpendicular angle from the bottom of the ship.
He rolled up his sleeves, snagging a small bag of maintenance tools that had been carelessly left behind by a Starport engineer near his parking spot. Forgoing any maintenance ladders, he scrambled up one side of the ship, pulling himself like a rock climber up makeshift handholds in the silvery ship’s exterior, till he had scaled to the top of it.
Mike moved with effortless ease across the top of the ship, a trick born from years of experience and familiarity traversing the *Halfbreed*’s rounded contours. Its sleek, silvery surface was broken up only occasionally by thicker, more heavy-duty panels that were off color, indicating replacement. He circled the top of the ship in a rough horseshoe shape, moving around the front of the twin-barrelled Gauss cannon that had been efficiently but unsubtly grafted like a headlamp onto the ship’s chassis.
He threaded his way along the narrow space between the cannon and the edge of the ship, huffing and puffing as he climbed the steep angle of the larger-than normal engines attached to the back of the *Aenil*-class Elven freighter.
Hopping over the gunwale, he ducked beneath the turret’s overhang. Coming to the lip of the engine, the smuggler carefully clambered down from the edge, using only his arms at one point to swing like a monkey down into the intake of the engine.
Mike was elbow deep in the engine’s guts, his protective gloves dripping with coolant when the sound of faint yelling caught his ear.
He stuck his head over the edge of the engine, staring down at the tarmac. A dark-haired Elf in a dull yellow bodysuit stood at the foot of the engine, sporting a flamboyant Elven shoulder cape with white trimmings. Mike couldn’t read his moving lips, but he was pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.
They shared a moment’s eye contact, wherein the faceless bureaucrat indicated with his eyes that Mike should come down. Mike let out a snort and turned back to his work.
His brow furrowed as he finally located the source of the leak: a shredded hose that had gotten too close to one of the fuel turbines. A quick patch job, and he was able to once more stick his head out from the engine and listen to the increasingly indignant voice rising up from the ground.
“-this *instant*!” Shouted the Elf, his waggling finger moving from Mike to the tarmac and back in rapid succession. Mike cocked a green-gel covered glove to his ear.
“What?” He asked, feigning deafness.
The Elf’s eyes narrowed, zeroing in on the lie immediately. “Get down here and explain yourself!”
Mike grunted, tugging his coolant-caked gloves off his fingers and casting them carelessly to the ground below. He dropped the appropriated toolbag as well, the metal rattling as the small bag hit the ground.
Mike followed after, clambering down to a low point on the engine before letting go. He plopped to the ground several feet below, brushing himself off. He strode towards the Elf, whose faceless expression nonetheless displayed a certain agitated frustration.
Mike gave him a winning grin and extended his hand for a handshake as he approached. “Mike Koller, what can I do you for?”
The Elf remained dignified enough to ignore the gesture. “You can explain to me what a puddle of coolant is doing melting a hole into the launchpad.”
Mike glanced over his shoulder at the hissing puddle of goo behind him. Waves of whitish foam and cloudy smoke rose from the tarmac. “Just a minor coolant leak. I fixed the problem.”
“But evidently not the tarmac.” The Elf retorted. “This is a public spaceport, docked ships are expected to perform necessary maintenance prior to launch preparation to prevent this exact problem.”
“What are you, the Starport Police?” Mike said in derision.
The Elf’s face remained impassive. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I am a Customs Enforcement Officer for Charity City Spaceport.” The Elf turned aside his shoulder-cloak to reveal a numbered badge upon his chest.
*Ah shit*. Mike thought. “Good, because I’ve got some complaints about your staff. Three hours I’ve had to wait for you people to get my ship fueled for takeoff!”
Mike gestured towards the hissing steam as if it were a condemnation of the Elf himself. “And that tarmac? A standard Dwarven colony would have triple-layered protection for *just* such an issue. I shouldn’t have to beg-your-pardon every time I check my ship for leaks.”
The Elf’s eyes narrowed. “A pity then that you are not currently docked at a Dwarvish Starport, Human. Our Colony makes the basic assumption that a Captain who knows how to pilot a ship, also understands how to perform standard maintenance on said ship.”
“What do you think I was doing?” Mike asked, making slow gestures with the liquid metal at his wrist.
“Breaking the law.” The Elf said. “Section 54 of Charity’s Colonial Charter includes a detailed description of a Starship Captain’s liability in the event of property damage to a public Starport. Shall I quote it to you verbatim?”
“No thanks, I hate fine print.” Mike replied in a sarcastic tone. “-Anything else I can help you with, sir? I’m about to take off.”
“Not until you have cleared the issue with the Starport Authority, you aren’t.” The Elf replied, his eyes flicking down to the small HUD screen clutched like a notebook in his hands. His fingers were a blur of graceful movement as he began to write out what Mike suspected to be a large fine.
“Come on, are you serious?” Mike said, doing his best impression of an innocent man. “It’s just a little corrosion on the upper layer!”
The Elf didn’t even bother to look up from his work. “Which, when stripped off, can cause superheating to the polymers beneath the upper layer upon takeoff and landing, causing a cascade failure which eventually leads to melted circuitry and – in a worst case scenario – a complete undermining of the landing pad’s integrity.”
“-And that’s why the Dwarves triple-layer.” Mike retorted.
“An unnecessary overcorrection, done for the sake of absent-minded Starship owners who cannot be bothered to follow a simple procedure.” The Elf said, quirking an eyebrow. “If you’d prefer, we could continue this discussion with Starport Security present… sir.”
“That will not be necessary,” Said a feminine voice to Mike’s left. He heard her soft footsteps approaching rapidly.
“Aly,” Mike said, keeping his eyes trained upon the waifish Customs Officer, “Could you please enlighten this servant of the people that we have done nothing wrong?”
Allynna moved to Mike’s left. He saw the Customs Officer’s eyes revert to her as if they were the only ones present. “Why do you allow your employee to address me in such a manner?”
Mike snickered out loud. Allynna sighed.
“He is not my employee, I am his Mool’Gwaith. What is the problem?”
It never ceased to amaze Mike how an Elf was capable of displaying so much contempt without ever changing his facial expression. “This human’s incomplete and haphazard modifications have caused an illegal and dangerous coolant leak, one that could have easily been detected and fixed *before* your Ship went into pre-flight check.”
Allynna’s eyes held firm to her fellow alien’s face. “This is not my ship. As I said before: this human is my Captain.”
“…Oh.” The Customs Officer said. The condemnation was implicit in his voice.
Mike nearly said something, but Allynna gave him a look. She turned to face the hissing tarmac. “…It appears that there was some spillage.” She said, her tone flat.
“Indeed. A fine of up to five thousand Tonarii.” The Customs Officer said. Allynna’s eyes flicked back to him.
“-I personally inspected the engines after we landed.” Allynna said, “So far as I can tell, the damage is more recent… perhaps even planetside.”
The Customs Officer’s eyebrow rose. “Planetside… Here, on Charity.”
Allynna nodded. “Do you have reason to doubt my word?”
“No.” The Elf said, his dark eyes turning to Mike. “I have plenty of reason to doubt his, however.”
“Story of my life.” Mike said, taking his jacket off the hanging antennae and throwing it around his shoulders.
“Either way,” Allynna pressed, “if the damage was that recent, then the Starship owner is not liable for unforeseen damages as a result of sabotage, correct?” She was staring rather hard at the Customs Officer.
“Yes.” The Customs Officer said, his lips flattening down into a line. “-But there is no indication whatsoever that such an event has occurred.”
“-Aside from what I just told you.” Allynna said, her eyes narrowing upon her Elven compatriot’s face. “Is a Mool’Gwaith’s word no longer enough?” The two shared a long, tense stare. Mike blinked, profoundly confused.
“…House Iolenna?” The Elven Customs Officer asked Allynna, his tone of voice going icy.
“House Gwynn’Yn’Iolenna,” Allynna responded, her brow lowering. “Fifth generation descendant of Iolenna. On my father’s side.”
“Your employment under a Human begins to make more sense, in context.” The Elf replied, his face turning to stone. He swept his fingers rapidly across his handheld HUD like a schizophrenic spider. “…Your claim is submitted, and accepted. You are exempted from fine, pending the results of your integrity score from the Gwaith Tracking Authority.”
“Thank you.” Allynna said. Her voice was empty of sincerity. “…I take it you are a descendant of House Freya.”
“Yes.” The Elf replied, not deigning to rattle off his illustrious ancestry. He seemed quite content to extricate himself from the conversation as quick as he possibly could. “Kindly refrain from suffering such ‘sabotage’ in the future. Good day.”
“You have a lovely one as well!” Mike said, waving at the figure’s retreating form. When he was out of earshot, Mike shot a sly look in his first mate’s direction. “Nice going, Aly.”
Allynna’s eyes held to the back of the Customs Officer’s head as he walked away. “Captain, as your Mool’Gwaith, I am obligated to once again remind you that you need to check the fuel lines *before* we prep for take off. Your constant modifications to the *Halfbreed*’s systems have become a recurring issue for us.”
“You say that now.” Mike said, shrugging. “I didn’t hear you crying foul when we reached Charity three days early.”
“-We also nearly warped into the system’s asteroid field.” The Elf retorted. “Had I not noticed the mistake in calculation, we’d have ended up as an impact crater on a meteorite.”
Mike shrugged. “The price of perfection.”
Allynna’s eyebrow rose. He saw her looking at him from the corner of her eye. “…You have a strange definition of ‘perfection.’”
*Says you*. Mike thought, swallowing back a smile. “So, what was all that about, with you and that stuffed shirt? I half expected the two of you to break out into a catfight right here on the tarmac.”
The Elf affected a careless shrug. It was a bit too stiff and mechanical for Mike to really buy it. “It was merely a disagreement in temperament. His family line is descended from the Heroine Freya, who in ancient times was Iolenna’s rival. I recognized it almost immediately in the way he talked.”
“So… you’re racist.” Mike said, laughing at the indignant look Allynna gave him.
“No!” She said, perhaps a bit too emphatically. The two began the slow walk to the ship’s automated gangplank beneath the cockpit. “It is simply a variance in philosophy. Houses descended from Iolenna have traditionally experienced difficulty connecting with those of House Freya. Historical rivalries are… difficult for my people to let go of.”
“Yep.” Mike said, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets as he took in another deep whiff of hyperdrive fuel. He grinned up at the empty sky. “Definitely racist.”
“The term is *meaningless*!” Allynna said, her exasperation finally breaking across the empty vista of her face. “An Elf is an Elf to an Elf.”
Mike snorted. “-Then what is a Human to an Elf? Cause if you hadn’t been here, I’d have just gotten a huge fine.”
“Whatever she wants him to be.” Allynna said, scowling as they ascended into the *Halfbreed*’s innards together.
* * *
“So what are you *really* going to spend your share on?” Mike said, flicking the switch on the thrusters as he finished his final pre-flight checks.
Allynna’s face did not shift. She sat next to him, quietly plotting out the coordinates to their jump. Her eyes were downward, engulfed in the heads up screen display that was calculating their future trajectory off planet. “I have no ‘share.’ The money is yours. As per our legal pact.”
Mike tugged at his jacket as he shifted in his seat, trying to find the most comfortable spot on the pristine white covers. “Fair enough. Legalities and all that.” Mike reached across to her side of the dashboard and purposefully turned on a few of her flight systems for her. “I’ll just set aside half then, so when you’re released from my bondage you can accept it without scowling at me.”
She scowled at him. “Don’t touch my side of the ship.” Her voice was deadpan, but Mike laughed anyway.
“Ooooh! Sorry, my Princess.” Mike said, holding his hands up in front of his face as if to surrender to her, or ward off a blow. “Goodness knows you’ll duck thirty thousand credits like it’s the Talassian Plague. But touch a few too many dials on the wrong side of *my* ship, and you’ll fight me to the death with your little Meaeth ringknife.”
Like magic the aforementioned weapon appeared in her right hand. It was a belt dagger, but one of far greater quality than the lesser races made. It was razor sharp, honed to a fine edge capable of cutting steel, yet flexible enough that Allynna could easily fold it and stash it on her person. Mike never knew how she did it. She’d slipped through advanced security scanners with the thing.
In Allynna’s hands it was a whirling blur. It moved so fast in her fingers that it often seemed like an optical illusion. She could produce it like a magician’s sleight of hand, flicking the little thing up into her hand at a moment’s notice. Mike knew the deadly force she could project with such speedy movement. He had had firsthand experience.
In this instance however, her action was more habitual than hostile. She idly twirled the blade hilt between her fingers, rolling it across her hands with a dexterity that confounded Mike. She punched in the launch codes even as she tossed the thing in the air, without looking, and caught it once again, returning it to its hidden place in a flash as she reached out and turned on the rest of her flight screen.
“You done showing off?” He said.
She met his eyes. “Do you know where we’re going?”
“I thought you were the navigator.” He teased back.
“We’re headed to the Darvek System. Little Supply Depot maintained by a Pirate band off the gas giant in the outer rings.” She pressed a few more buttons into the console and the lights went green across the cockpit. “A quarter of the credit transfer has already been sent. We get the rest once we’ve pinged the comm buoy to let them know we dropped it off.”
Mike huffed. “I hope you know what you’re doing with this, Aly.” He said, “I don’t trust these weapon companies farther than I can toss a three-ton Nerulian Bloodsucker.”
The Elf paused, turning to glance at Mike. She smiled, for real this time. “Have I ever led you astray before, Michael?”
Mike felt a short flutter in his chest as he struggled to contain the blush that came to his face. “No.” He said, truthfully. “Which is why I’m doubly suspicious: I don’t want you to break your spotless track record to me on account of this contact.”
Allynna winked, timing it so that Mike missed seeing it when he blinked. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” She fired up the engine. The *Halfbreed* roared to life.
They were already in the lower atmosphere, following the ordered line of ships to the assigned checkpoint to leave orbit by the time Mike took a hard right and guided the graceful ship out, away towards the wild part of the planet, where the Colonists had yet to make any significant inroads on the native flora and fauna. Mike glanced out the window, watching the long string of blue-leafed trees rush by as the reddish horizon cast a pall across it all.
“How are we doing?” He asked idly, watching as they passed over a massive inland lake.
Allynna’s eyes were locked to her heads up display. “Orbital Station sensors haven’t picked us up, and we were far enough ahead in the line that the starport stopped logging us. We’re in the clear.”
“Your people need to install some better security measures.” Mike joked, “This whole smuggling thing is almost too easy.”
“This isn’t Elven space, Michael.” Allynna replied, “If it were the *real* authorities and not just these Colonial magistrates running the show, maybe it would be more difficult for us.”
Mike cracked his knuckles, leaning forward eagerly as his fingers danced across the *Halfbreed*’s flight controls. “All right, so which of these moons has got all the angry natives living on it?”
Allynna swept her fingers across her display, switching between four separate images of planetary bodies. “This one.” She said, pointing at the screen then straight ahead, towards the sinking shape of a moon the size of the planet Earth on the horizon. In the harsh light of the late afternoon sun it shone a luminescent purple. “The largest one.”
“Should have figured.” Mike said, eyeing the planetary body. “So we make for that, hook around its orbit to dodge the Orbital defense platforms around the Colony, and then we’re in the clear.”
“-Assuming we don’t rile the natives.” She added. “There’s a reason no one takes this flight path to get off planet.”
“Besides honest smugglers.” Mike corrected her.
“And fools.” She added, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “…Shall we find out which we are?”
“Undoubtedly the second.” He answered, gripping the throttle and pushing it to two thirds.
There was an appreciable pull upon their bodies as they were shoved back into their flight seats. Elven craftsmanship was such that the ship didn’t so much as groan as it accelerated to such speeds. Soon the planetscape beneath was zipping by at too fast a rate to track with the human eye.
“We’re nearing the ideal point to break atmosphere.” Allynna noted, glancing behind her, down the ship’s single, long hallway to get a view of the hyperdrive core at the back of the ship. “Engines are green. We’re ready to make the jump once we clear the moon.”
“Roger that. Let’s go meet the stars.” Mike said, trying but failing to suppress a grin as he pulled up on the flight stick and brought the *Halfbreed* to a near vertical angle.
The empty, orange sky stared back at them. Mike took in the sight of three moons hovering above them and let out a low whistle. “Say what you will about Charity, it’s got a hell of a nighttime view.”
“That it does.” Allynna said. She almost sounded wistful. “Clearing the atmosphere in three… two…”
There was a sensation, almost like a bubble popping, and then the ship began to respond less sluggishly to Mike’s command. He smiled, looking out across the vast expanse of black and stars as he adjusted his trajectory towards the native moon. “Maybe someday you’ll get a planet like this of your own, just to look up and admire the view, huh?”
Allynna shook her head. “My father always told me that the view from space was better than anything you could hope to see on the ground.”
Mike laughed, tilting the ship so that the native moon filled the cockpit’s view. “Your father was also a Navy brat.”
“As was I.” Allynna said.
“Yeah, but I don’t hold that against you.” Mike responded. “You’ve got more of your Uncle in you than your Dad.”
“You’ve never even *met* my father!” Allynna responded, scandalized. Elves took their family lineage altogether too seriously sometimes.
“No, I haven’t,” Mike agreed, “But I’ve heard enough about him to know he’s got all your worst qualities.”
“Thank Heruen he didn’t hear you say that.” Allynna hissed, “He’d have fired on the *Halfbreed* for the indignity and the insult… with me inside.”
“Two birds with one stone for him then, huh?” Mike said, chuckling to himself.
“…What?” Allynna asked, tilting her head. “The translator came out garbled. I don’t understand what you just-”
“Nothing.” Mike said quickly. “It’s just a Human saying.” The *Halfbreed* was now skimming above the upper atmosphere of the Colony’s moon, a continental body with thick forests and deep seas. It was the only other habitable planet in the solar system. “How long before we can break orbit?”
“Five minutes.” She said, checking the instruments. “We need to be on the opposite side of the moon to the Colony, so they don’t register us when we jump.”
“What’s got the natives so riled up, anyway?” Mike said, glancing down upon the moon and its pristine, spotless beauty. “They went from cooking fires to power cores in the space of a *year* thanks to the Colonists.”
“Not all pre-spaceflight civilizations respond the same way to sudden technological advancement.” Allynna said. “The Colonists also colonized the planet their moon orbits.”
“That’s just the entry fee to get into the Galactic clubhouse. It’s not like they landed on their *homeworld*.” Mike said, glancing up as a light on his dashboard suddenly went red. “…Something spiked the long range sensors.”
Allynna swiveled her head, bringing up the sensor array. A wide grid of light spread across her face, illuminating her Elven features. She quickly pinpointed the anomaly. “It’s a ship. A fighter.”
“Pirates?” Mike asked.
“It’s got Orcish Tribal markings on the wings.” She confirmed, zooming in on the pinprick and enhancing the image.
“Native Pirates.” Mike clucked his tongue, reaching for the throttle. “What’s its make?”
“It’s of Human design, but clearly modified.” She replied, her lips twisting with distaste. “It’ll catch up to the *Halfbreed* before we can make the jump.”
“Roger that. Strap in Aly, we’re gonna do some evasives.”
Mike punched it, sending the *Halfbreed* hurtling forward as he struggled to keep a firm grip on the throttle. The blip on the screen kept getting closer.
“Two more fighters ascending to the upper atmosphere from the northern pole!” Allynna said, her voice carrying with it a chilling hint of worry. “They’re of a similar make to the first one, making a direct course for us.”
“Charge the guns.” Mike said, “We’re going to have to fight our way out of this.”
Mike began to drift his course to the right, attempting to put distance between himself and the pair of ships coming from the poles to his left. The first pursuer continued to gain on him, coming up from the rear. Allynna watched with worry as the ships began to converge on them.
“They’re coordinating. This is an attack, Michael.”
“So I gathered.” He said, glancing about his flight screen. He flicked a few switches. “Countermeasures are prepped. The second you detect the plume from a missle shot, deploy them.”
“Affirmative.” Allynna said. All business.
Mike kept drifting further to the right in a lazy turn, counting on the two ships coming at his left to start anticipating his flight path. True to expectation, the Orcish fighters began to match his drift, quickening their approach even as proximity alarms began blaring in the cockpit.
“Hold on.” Mike said, gritting his teeth. He banked left and hauled back in the flight stick. The *Halfbreed* groaned and shuddered, its engine dimming as Mike pulled back on the throttle, then floored it once he had readjusted. Instead of the fighters coming at the ship from an angle, the *Halfbreed* was now hurtling towards them at top speed.
Head to head. The perfect engagement for an Elf ship. “Switch the shields to full front.” Mike said, spinning up the auto-cannons. He had a dead lock on one of the fighters.
“Already done.” Allynna said. “The other fighter is fifteen seconds out to our left.”
“Won’t need that long.” Mike said, depressing the trigger. A streak of green spurted out past either edge of the cockpit window, as a stream of caramelized Thorium slugs fired out at an astounding rate. The ship was rocked by a string of red laser blasts that struck the *Halfbreed* head on, dissipating harmlessly against the ship’s modified shield array.
The autocannons fired true. The first Orcish fighter was annihilated immediately, the slugs ripping through its inadequate shields and tearing the ship to pieces. It exploded when its fuel tank was hit, the vacuum venting the flames out into space, snuffing the cataclysm out almost immediately. Mike banked right, expecting the second Orcish fighter to dodge in that direction. It juked him, cutting left too late for Mike to course correct.
“Shit. Only got the first one.” He cursed, continuing the turn so as to keep the two remaining fighters chasing him from separate directions, preventing them from regrouping with one another.
“We’ve got a missile launch.” Allynna said. “…And another.”
“We don’t have enough Countermeasures to shake their entire arsenal.” Mike said. “We’re gonna have to ditch them.”
“Where? If we go back to Charity now the Port Authority will impound us.” Allynna said. There was a note of strain in her voice.
Mike shook his head, “Elves aren’t known for thinking outside the box, Aly. And you are a prime example of that.”
“…Outside the-?”
“*It means you’d never think to do this*!” He shouted, shoving the flight stick forward into a sudden dive towards the native moon. The *Halfbreed* shuddered just slightly as they plummeted. Allynna – to her credit – took the sudden change in stride, recognizing immediately Mike’s intent.
“Countermeasures activated. We shook the first two missiles.” Her hands were a blur of movement as the *Halfbreed* broke into the upper atmosphere.
“They’ll be coming in hot behind us.” Mike said, “Once we’re at the point where we can make the jump, we head back out into space and lose them in the climb through the atmosphere.”
“The shields will take a beating.” Allynna murmured, switching the polarities so that the flank of the ship was reinforced.
“This bitch can take it.” Mike said, patting the dashboard before diving in a sharper, more direct angle towards the ground. The bright foliage of the planet rushed up to meet them, an untamed coverage of thick jungle. Just shy of a thousand meters from the treetops Mike yanked back on the throttle and flight stick simultaneously, dropping to a near hover before punching the engines, streaking across the canopy cover.
“They’re coming in from above.” Allynna said.
“Let them.” Mike replied.
True to her prediction, a series of shudders rocked the ship. The pair of fighters had opened up with their autocannons, spraying the top of the *Halfbreed* with a burst of concentrated fire. Mike banked left, skirting a small mountain range. He cut the engines to a third, weaving between the individual peaks in an effort to confound his pursuers. True to his tactic, they were soon level with him in altitude, attempting to pursue rather than engage from above.
Once the mountain range ended Mike gunned the engines once more, gaining a few precious seconds on his pursuers as he began a slow, methodical climb. “How are we doing?” He asked, sweat beading on his forehead as he struggled to maintain tactical superiority over his faster, more maneuverable opponents.
Allynna’s mouth was a flat line. “About a minute out from the ideal jump point.”
*We’ll find that spare minute right next to my nonexistent sex life*. Mike thought, casting a short glance at Allynna before snapping his attention back to the danger of the moment.
“Brace yourself. We’re about to take a beating.”
The hull of the Elven craft shivered and shook. It shuddered in a manner that Mike had never felt from it before. He cut the throttle, dialing back so that the fighters were forced to overcorrect when his turn became far sharper than they could manage going at the speed that they were. The *Halfbreed* jumped ahead again, buying a few more precious moments of space at the cost of yet another maneuver they’d now be looking for him to pull.
“Michael-” Allynna said, her voice rising.
“I know! I know!” He said, staring at the near-empty shield gauge. He rotated the *Halfbreed*’s turrets, “Finally got a straight shot at them!”
He pressed the trigger, green death firing back towards the now exposed Native ships. A Thorium slug clipped the nearest fighter, slashing its left wing in half and sending it spinning into the nearby mountainside, where it exploded with enough force to send dirt sailing hundreds of feet into the air.
The second fighter throttled back, dipping out of range of the *Halfbreed*’s autocannons to regroup. Mike let out a whoop. “He’s giving up the chase!”
“*Michael!*” Allynna shouted. The desperate emotion he heard in her voice startled him. His eyes settled upon the source of her horror: a fourth blip on the radar. It had snuck up on them in the midst of the dogfight, coming at a hitherto unexpected angle from his right. There was the telltale plume of a missile launch coming from the fighter’s wing.
Mike reached for the flight stick to continue to maneuver, but was yanked back hard against his seat. A shockwave rolled through the *Halfbreed*, a shuttering screech that knocked Mike senseless. He lost consciousness for a moment, the force of the impact causing him to blink repeatedly to try to clear the unfamiliar fog from his mind.
They were plummeting. His fluttering eyes struggled to open as he felt the chilling pull of wind on his face. Mike rolled his neck down and to the right so he could stare, blankly at the gaping hole that had been made in his ship. The explosion had ripped through the *Halfbreed*’s shields and torn through the entire starboard section of the ship’s body, just behind the cockpit.
He could see the ground hurtling up towards them through the breach. They’d lost all engine thrust, the silver ship spinning back and again in an interminable circle as klaxons blared and lights faded in the cockpit. Mike felt a rush of vertigo as the gyroscope-stabilizers sputtered and died.
He glanced over, seeing Aly still at the controls. Her face was a tense mask, and her hair fell about her eyes like yellow stalks of vines. Her teeth were gritted, and she was furiously attempting to hold what little remained of the flight computer’s systems together.
Mike admired her for that: fighting for the *Halfbreed* even as the poor girl plunged towards her inevitable fate.
Mike reached up, flipping the kill-switch on the controls as the cockpit entered lockdown. A thick shield engulfed the immediate area, shutting down the rest of the ship and killing off any chance of salvaging what remained. Aly’s fingers froze above her controls as the flight screen dimmed to black. She cast her gaze in Mike’s direction, and the two shared a long look.
Despite her supposedly blank expression, Mike could see the frustration and desperation written like letters across Allynna’s severe, Elven face. She wasn’t ready to give up. She never was. The thought made him want to smile, despite everything.
“It’s just a ship, Aly.” He said, right before they made impact with the ground.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/bpvxzr/halfbreed_ch_1_part_2
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