The fighters came out of nowhere. Derby Rigg counted at least a dozen. They flitted by so quickly she couldn’t be sure.
“High-performance spacecraft,” reported Dyson. “One occupant each.”
“How did they find us?” Rigg demanded.
“Clearly our attempts at stealth were ineffective.”
She opened a channel to Bezos. The face of Captain Dru Severin appeared.
“What do you think, Sev?”
He grimaced. “I think our shiny new guns are about to get a workout.”
“I’ll broadcast a warning. If they ignore it, I’m going to open fire.”
Severin nodded. “We’ll do the same.”
She toggled to the universal emergency frequency, then gathered her thoughts and began to transmit.
“This is Captain Derby Rigg of the freighter Musk calling the unidentified fighters circling my position. If you approach my ship, or the Bezos, we will open fire with intent to kill. This is your only warning.”
She turned to Dyson. “Keep broadcasting that on a loop.”
The tactical hologram showed no change. Two freighters plodded through space as a dozen fighters circled like sharks.
Severin came back onscreen. “Jolly good show, Derby. I hope it’s enough.”
At that instant the fighters broke inward, each flying its own erratic course.
“Fire,” Rigg yelled.
Severin nodded for his crew to do the same.
Thick ropes of fire cut through the darkness, twisting and turning as they sought the nimble attackers.
Rigg’s guns fired red tracers. Severin’s were blue. In the no man’s land between the two ships, tracer streams occasionally crossed, creating brilliant flashes of purple.
Within seconds, a white explosion announced a hit, followed quickly by another. Two marauders were dead.
The ten remaining fighters withdrew. Blue and red streams chased them out of range.
“Cease fire,” Rigg ordered.
The entire engagement had lasted less than a minute. Rigg exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath.
A blend of relief and elation swept over her. It was strange. The two marauder deaths should not have felt good, but they did. Those pilots had challenged her and lost.
“Here they come again,” said Dyson.
Rigg turned just in time to see the fighters curling back.
She folded her arms. “Wait until they’re within range, then open up.”
Severin must have given the same command because soon blue tracers painted snaking ribbons. But there was no red.
“Why aren’t we firing?” she demanded.
“The fighters are still out of our range,” said Dyson. “They appear to be focusing on Bezos.”
The tactical holo confirmed that they were swarming like insects around Severin’s ship.
Rigg opened a channel. “Sev, they’re concentrating on you. We’ll move closer to help.”
“My guns are holding them at bay,” he replied. “But I won’t turn down your offer.”
Blue streams of fire chased the fighters, which maneuvered wildly but did not retreat. From a distance the pulsing firefight was strangely beautiful.
“Give ‘em hell, Sev. We’ll be there soon.”
Dyson made a subtle gesture. She closed the channel.
“I’ve been analyzing their tactics. The fighters are holding steady at the fringe of his firing range. It’s a relatively safe position for them, yet close enough to keep his guns engaged.”
Rigg frowned, then reopened the channel.
“Sev, we think they might be trying to exhaust your ammo.”
He nodded. “Some of my guns are running low already.”
“Hang tight. We’re two minutes out.”
Dyson motioned again. Rigg killed the channel.
“They’ve moved to the far side of Bezos,” he explained. “They’re using the ship as a shield against us.”
Rigg looked to the tactical holo. Indeed, no Musk gun could target the fighters because Bezos stood in the way.
“Maneuver us into a better firing position,” she said.
“I’ve tried. They counter every move and stay hidden.”
Fewer blue streams chased the fighters now. Some of Bezos’s guns had run dry. Before long, more streams went dark. Only a few guns remained.
Severin flashed onto the screen. “Something strange is happening. They’re moving in.”
“Show me,” she said.
He toggled the view to an exterior camera, which showed an approaching fighter. To Rigg, the strange craft looked like an armored disc.
“Why isn’t it firing on you?” she asked.
“He seems to have something else in mind,” said Severin. “The others are doing the same thing.”
They watched in dismay as the fighter slowed and attached itself to the hull of Bezos.
“What in the hell…” Rigg whispered.
“All ten fighters are stuck to me like leeches,” Severin said. “I’m getting hull-breech alarms. They’re cutting into me.”
“Sev, get yourself and your crew to the lifeboat. We’ll pick you up.”
He pursed his lips. “I’ll send them, but I’m staying.”
“Why? You can’t hold off ten boarders.”
Severin’s face was ashen. “I’ll vent the ship to open space.”
“Sev, that’s pointless. They’ll be in suits.”
“Just pick up my people. I’ll—”
An explosion rocked the Bezos bridge. Severin spun around to see.
A burst of gunfire followed. He collapsed from view.
“Sev!”
Tendrils of smoke wafted before the camera.
A suited figure appeared onscreen. The figure stepped closer. Rigg could see herself in its mirrored faceplate.
“You bastard!” she screamed. “Identify yourself!”
The channel closed.
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