CassaStar (23 page)

Chapter Eleven

Scurrying up the ladder, Byron hastened to his seat. Bassa joined him in the cockpit and they ran through the emergency checklist in record time. The moment the ship’s canopy sealed, their ship began moving into position.

“
Seven squadrons of Vindicarn ships confirmed,” Larnth announced over the com. “Engage immediately. Repeat, engage immediately!”

Seven? Guess they’re serious this time,
Byron observed.

They’re making an attack run on the ship,
Bassa replied.
We’re going to be shot out into the thick of it, so be prepared.

Damn, they’re not giving us much chance.

Welcome to war.

Byron checked the weapons again as they slid into the launch tube. The outer door opened and even at that distance, he could see enemy fighters against the stars. The moment they left the safety of the Sorenthia, Vindicarns would be upon them.

“
Three … two … one …”

Byron kept his eyes on the section of space they were about to occupy and hoped their ship wouldn’t collide with enemy craft. A Vindicarn ship flew past just as they emerged and Byron pulled a hard left to avoid impact. Before he could acquire his bearings, laser fire streaked over their canopy.

Jump!
Bassa cried, the coordinates flashing in Byron’s mind.

Without hesitation, he teleported to the new position. Bassa’s calculations placed them on the trail of an enemy ship and Byron fired. In the blink of an eye, they went from potential casualty to victor.

“
Defend that launch tube!” Larnth ordered.

Give the others a fighting chance,
commented Bassa as Byron maneuvered their ship through the ensuing confusion.

They returned to the launch tubes. Vindicarn ships swarmed the area, waiting like scavengers for an easy kill. Byron brought the ship in at an angle and engaged the first enemy vessel that crossed his path. Before the ship had time to evade, he dispatched the Vindicarn with one shot.

Five more Cosbolts about to launch!
Bassa forewarned.

Hannar’s ship joined them and the teams flew cross patterns across the launch tubes, determined to prevent the slaughter of their fellow pilots. Byron focused solely on the ships in front of him and Bassa’s voice in his head. This was their fifth encounter since the declaration of war, and he’d learned to rely on his navigator’s guidance. If they were to remain alive, Byron and Bassa had to trust each other implicitly.

Once their squadron was in the air and other ships assumed defense of the launch tubes, they moved away from the Sorenthia and engaged the enemy one-on-one. Byron ignored the flashes of light around their ship. If the explosions were their own ships, he couldn’t help those teams now.

Caught up in the fight, he wasn’t sure at what point the enemy’s numbers began to dwindle. Adrenaline continued to course through his body, but not at the same frantic pace as earlier. Byron pursued every new target and Bassa guided his pilot. If the older officer preferred they rein in their attack, he did not voice his thoughts to Byron.

Without warning, the enemy fighters closest to the Sorenthia turned and headed for deep space. Byron followed the Vindicarn ships, hoping for one more kill.

Pull back,
ordered Bassa.

With great reluctance, Byron eased back on the throttle. He watched as the enemy vessels convened, and in a flash of light, vanished from view.

Good thing they only do longs jumps,
Bassa growled.

Byron sagged in his seat. His shoulders ached from the intensity of the battle. As he brought the ship around, he caught sight of a Cosbolt motionless in space, and recognized his friend’s vessel at once. He could discern no visible damage, but Byron sensed something was very wrong.

Ernx?
he called.
Ernx, talk to me!

Nintal’s been hit by a disrupter!
came the desperate reply.

Bring your ship around,
commanded Bassa.
You’ve got to get him back to the Sorenthia immediately.

He’s not answering me!

Hearing the panic in Ernx’s voice, Byron pulled up beside their ship.
Ernx, follow me,
he instructed, hoping he could entice the frantic pilot to safety.
Come on, Nintal needs help!

Slowly, Ernx’s ship altered position. Byron throttled forward a few lengths and waited. His friend’s ship began to move, and the fighters glided toward the landing bay. Bassa informed the hanger medics of the incoming injured navigator. Judging from the exchange, Byron sensed Nintal was not the only casualty today.

The ships landed without incident and taxied into the hanger together. The moment Ernx’s canopy retracted, he leapt out of the cockpit and turned to assist his navigator. Byron yanked off his helmet, his eyes on the pair as medical technicians rushed up the ladder. He scrambled to his feet and was down the service ladder before Bassa even exited the craft.

Racing to Ernx’s ship, he paused as the medics brought Nintal down to the waiting gurney. His face was twisted with agony and Byron winced. Ernx grasped his friend’s hand as the navigator was stretched out on the gurney, his thoughts in turmoil. Aghast at the sight, Byron gently touched Ernx’s shoulder, hoping he could offer a measure of comfort. Ernx glanced up, his eyes wide with fear.

“
I couldn’t dive fast enough!” he exclaimed. “He took a direct hit.”

“
He’ll be all right,” assured Byron, feeling Ernx’s fear in the pit of his stomach

The medics indicated they were ready to move Nintal. Byron glanced over his shoulder, seeking Bassa’s reassurance. His navigator had remained by their ship, and he met Byron’s gaze.

Go with Ernx,
he instructed.

Byron nodded, although he felt uncomfortable with the situation. He followed the procession out of the hanger, his eyes on his friends. Ernx still held his navigator’s hand, talking to Nintal as they entered the telepod. The young man was too far gone in pain to hear the encouraging words, but his white-knuckled grip on Ernx’s hand revealed his awareness. No agony echoed in Nintal’s mind, as his senses were numb from the disrupter blast, but Ernx’s thoughts projected loud and clear. The ripples of fear and anger were overwhelming. If not for Bassa’s orders, Byron would’ve run from the unpleasant scene.

Once they reached the medical facility, Ernx was forced to relinquish his friend’s hand. The technicians continued through the double doors, leaving Byron and Ernx behind. Unable to follow, Ernx stared in frustration at the doors, his mind a jumble of anxious emotions.

Byron grasped his shoulder. Ernx gave no indication that he was aware of Byron’s presence and continued to stare ahead.

“
He took that hit full force,” he mumbled.

Desperation emanated unchecked from Ernx. Unnerved by the emotional outpouring from his otherwise stable friend, Byron stared helplessly at the pilot. Beneath his fingertips, Ernx trembled.

“
I can’t even hear him …”

Byron wished he knew how to comfort his friend. Fighting the urge to flee, as Ernx’s agony pounded at his senses, Byron scanned the waiting room. A bench sat unoccupied near the main entrance.

“
Come on,” he enticed, pulling on Ernx’s shoulder. “All you can do now is wait.”

The distraught pilot allowed Byron to guide him to the bench and he dropped like a stone onto its surface. Ernx leaned forward, elbows on his knees and shoulders hunched, and grasped his hands together. He continued to stare at the double doors, and Byron sensed his deep longing to be with Nintal.

“
If he loses his senses,” Ernx murmured, “I’m not flying with another navigator.”

“
He won’t,” assured Byron. “And you can’t even think about that right now.”

Ernx glanced at Byron, his eyes wide. “You don’t understand! We’ve been together since the beginning. Nintal’s my best friend and I refuse to fly with anyone else!”

Stunned by the conviction in his friend’s voice, Byron stared at Ernx, at a total loss for words. Shaking his head, Ernx’s gaze dropped to the floor. Byron felt annoyed by his inability to comfort his friend and realized he lacked the skill. In the past, no one had ever comforted him, and he didn’t know how to reach out to another person.

Unable to offer support in the manner he desired, Byron resorted to the only remaining option. He grasped Ernx’s shoulder, hoping his physical presence would suffice. His friend glanced in his direction and nodded before returning his gaze to the floor. With no further exchange, they awaited word of Nintal’s condition.

An hour passed before a technician emerged to retrieve Ernx. His navigator was currently sleeping off the effects of the disrupter blast, but Ernx was free to wait by his side. Shooting Byron an anxious but thankful look, the pilot followed the medic into the main facility.

Relieved his presence was no longer required, Byron retreated to his quarters. He felt exhausted on every level and his stomach rumbled from a lack of food. Grabbing a shower and a change of clothes, Byron went in search of a decent meal.

The dining hall was still serving and he retrieved a tray of food. He’d felt the heavy mood of the room upon entering and few men remained. Byron toyed with the idea of returning to his quarters, but a light touch on his mind alerted him to Bassa’s presence. Locating his navigator with a small group of officers, Byron joined his friend. Bassa’s stable and wise nature was exactly what he needed right now.

A couple men nodded as he joined them, sitting across from his partner. The older man’s expression was solemn but resigned as he regarded his pilot.

“
How’s Nintal?” he inquired.

“
Sleeping right now,” Byron replied, poking at his food with his fork. “I stayed with Ernx until he was allowed to see him.”

“
Sleep’s the kindest thing right now,” commented Wentar. “Especially when it feels as if your mind’s on fire.”

Byron met his navigator’s eyes. “No wonder he was in so much pain,” he murmured.

“
Takes a day for the senses to return. Although sometimes they don’t,” Bassa added.

Byron frowned, disturbed by that possibility. Recalling the sounds originating from behind the double doors in the medical facility, unnerving to those waiting in the main room, Byron suspected Nintal wasn’t the only injured man.

There were several casualties today,
Bassa answered in private.
Three injuries in our squadron and … we lost Menth’s team.

That news settled on Byron’s thoughts like a lead ball. He swallowed his half-chewed mouthful of food and reached for his water. Death was a very real possibility for those who flew fighters, but up to this point, their squadron had sustained no losses. Despite his feelings toward Menth and his navigator, their death was disconcerting.

Reluctant to hear more on the matter, Byron instead concentrated on his food. The conversations around the table soon subsided as the men departed. By the time he finished eating, only Bassa remained to keep him company. Shoving aside his tray, Byron noticed that only four other officers remained in the hall. Leaning his elbows on the table, he met Bassa’s gaze.

Are you all right?
his navigator asked.

Byron nodded, his eyes dropping to the table.
Just really tired.

How’s Ernx holding up?

That question bothered Byron.
He’s really worried about Nintal. Says he won’t fly without him.

They’re a close team. I’m sure he appreciated your presence.

Bassa’s comment sent a surge of emotion through Byron’s mind. He raised his shields in an effort to hide his feelings and inability to comfort Ernx. His ineptness as a friend continued to trouble him. Bassa’s comment regarding the team’s tight bond also bothered Byron. He doubted any man on the Sorenthia entertained similar thoughts about his bond with Bassa.

Byron …

Bassa’s prodding was light and not intended to feel intrusive. Relaxing his mental shields, he raised his head and met Bassa’s gaze. He sensed understanding in his navigator’s patient expression.