Star Runners: Mission Wraith (#3) (36 page)

“All right,” the tug Captain announced, “we are lined up and good to go. Stay put and we’ll have you refueled and on your way in twenty minutes.”

“Copy. Staying put.”

“Ten thousand MUs and closing.”

Austin fidgeted in his seat, the black of space suddenly appearing more menacing. What waited for him out there? His next waypoint would bring him back to the safety of Legion space, and his mission would be a success.
 

He thought of the
Formidable
. Major Braddock had said they would have Austin’s full funeral service with the other fallen Star Runners. His thoughts lingered on the fact his comrades thought he had died. Ryker, Skylar, and Bear had gone for weeks with the knowledge he had been destroyed by a pair of marauders on the edge of The Fringe. What would happen when he got back? How would the Legion forces “revive” him? Or would he remain in the shadows, operating as a covert Star Runner? He didn’t have a good answer. The Legion had been so desperate to send him on this mission he hadn’t asked questions about what would happen if he succeeded.
 

He watched the tug coming closer, now within five thousand MUs. He could make out details of the vessel in front of him as he cracked his knuckles together. As soon as they got this refueling underway, the sooner he would be away from this moon and back in Legion space.
 

The sensors wailed, the HUD flashing from a bright green to a blood red. His eyes wide, he looked around the surrounding space. It appeared like a fast-moving comet at first, flashing into the star system with incredible speed. The vessel slowed, parking in space about twenty-thousand MUs from his position. He recognized the ship, although it took a moment for his mind to catch up with the realization of what he was seeing. The Zahlian ARC. He checked the transponder. It was the
Dauntless
.
 

More signals appeared from the ship, swarming around like hornets around their nest. Interceptors formed into attack formation in front of the ARC.
 

“How?” Austin asked, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“Doesn’t matter now,” the tug Captain said. “They’re here.”

Austin racked his brain, wondering how the Zahlian forces had tracked the invisible ship. Then it hit him, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach. It was his fault. The
Wraith
had a tracking device onboard, detectable only when the shroud was deactivated—and he shut down the shroud as soon as he left the Clarian System.

“Our newcomers are on the way,” the tug captain announced, his voice devoid of emotion. “Lone Wolf, get out of here. We’ll keep them busy.”

Austin slammed his hand against the canopy. “That’s suicide!”

“I think we’re passed the point of caring about that now,” the Captain grumbled. “We’ll keep them busy. You must flee.”

Austin glanced at his power levels, knowing he couldn’t make it far. The tug swung around, its lumbering shape moving with the speed of an elephant as it turned to face the incoming Interceptors. The small turrets on top of the refueling tug came to life, moving to face the enemy.
 

His breathing increased as he searched the space around. Flee? Flee to where? He had no power to activate the Lutimite Drive for a long-distance trip. He had enough to maintain the shroud for eight hours and—

He twisted his neck behind him, staring at the moon. It had an atmosphere … if he landed, deactivated the life support and shut down all the systems but the shroud, he could last for at least eight hours. Nine if fortune was on his side.
 

“Very well, Chow Hall,” he said, firing up his engines and activating the
Wraith’s
shroud. “Good luck.”

Austin veered the fighter toward the moon and slammed forward on the throttle. With his shields double front, he was able to take a sharper orbital entry. The
Wraith
bounced through the atmosphere, the shields glowing red in front of him. Taking one last glance at the scene unfolding behind him, he watched the Zahlian Interceptors pounding the tug that would have refueled him. The tug’s turrets fired wildly, trying to swat down the Interceptors as they encircled their prey. Austin’s stomach turned. He fought the urge to go back and fight, knowing deep down the Captain and his crew had sacrificed their lives for this mission. But what would happen now?

His sensors blacked out, a result of the
Wraith
descending through the atmosphere.
 

He was alone again.

*****

By the time the
Wraith
had completed its journey through the upper atmosphere, the “Chow Hall” tug had disappeared from Austin’s scope. The image of the tug turning to face Zahlian Interceptors lingered in his mind. The Captain had sounded so fearless, so certain of his mission as he turned to face certain death. Would he be able to do the same thing? They destroyed his one chance at refueling, and the
Dauntless
would capture him. Should he consider swallowing the pill Val had given him on Claria?

Austin shook his head, focusing on the ground beneath him as he burst through the cloud cover. The rocky land stretched out toward infinity in every direction. Mountains reached up with sharp edges, like boney hands with decrepit, jagged fingernails. Knowing the
Dauntless
would soon be in orbit, and its Interceptors were hot on his tail, Austin had activated the shroud. He knew the clock had started, his power levels draining fast.
 

The shroud made him invisible to the naked eye, sure, but also enabled him to hide from any sensors searching for power levels and mask whatever tracking devices had been placed on the
Wraith
. The fighter itself was invisible to radar and other surveillance technology. He remembered what Val had said about the heat from his exhaust being his only weakness. If he landed, he should be able to avoid detection for eight hours or so.
 

He craned his neck, banking the fighter slightly as he circled a mountain range below. A deep murky river snaked through the rough terrain directly below him. He brought the fighter lower, swinging down into the canyon. Trees and other plant life appeared on either side of the raging river as he soared overhead.
 

If he could just find—there!

Up ahead, the rocks stretched out to form a shallow cave from the canyon wall near the top, providing a canopy and partially shielding the area from the air. It would provide the perfect place to hide until … until what?

Shaking the negative thought from his mind, he hurried to land the
Wraith
under the rocks. As he backed the fighter into the shallow cave, the engines blasted into the ground, shooting dust and pebbles across the landscape. The landing gear settled in place, and he killed the engines. The turbines whined, slowed, and stopped. Blood rushed into his ears, pounding with each beat of his heart.
 

Well, he had landed. And he was safe for now.
 

He titled his head back and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he stared at the rocks over his head for a long moment. The events leading to this moment flashed through his mind. He thought of Tia, of Val, and the entire crew of the tug. They had all died for this mission to succeed. And now he was here, hiding on this crappy moon until his power drained less than eight hours from now.
 

He couldn’t escape the simple fact he had failed. Mission
Wraith
would be forgotten, swept into a file of other classified operations.
 

He opened the canopy, the sound of the river below raging. Descending the ladder and ignoring the flash of pain in his shoulder, he keyed for the canopy to close and the
Wraith
remained invisible. Well, for now at least.
 

Deciding to keep his space suit on in the event the
Dauntless
ran infrared scans of the area, Austin stretched as he surveyed the canyon. It could have been a mountain range in Montana. The river flowed by several hundred yards below his position, winding through the thick hardwoods and strange purple mushrooms the size of a small car. Thick clouds moved into the area, curling over the jagged mountains like cotton candy.
 

He rested his hands on his hips and sighed.
 

Thunder rumbled in the air, the sound echoing off the canyons. Wait, he thought, that wasn’t thunder. He stared into the sky, heard the growl of several fighters soaring through the atmosphere. The Interceptors were searching for him right now, the
Dauntless
inevitably in orbit by now as well, bombarding the surface with sensors. The rocky canyon should keep him hidden. Without the shroud, though, they would detect the tracking device for sure.
 

He climbed back into the cockpit and settled in, checking the power levels again. Yes, seven hours of power remaining.
 

And then they would find him.

*****

Night fell across the alien landscape, the massive mushrooms casting long spherical shadows across the canyon floor. Just before the daylight dipped beneath the mountains, Austin caught a glimpse of two Interceptors flying in formation in the distance. Their position lights twinkled and gave him all he needed to know about the search—they knew approximately where he had descended through the atmosphere. However, they probably didn’t know how low his power levels were at the moment.
 

He checked the levels again.
 

They had dropped to less than ten percent—about five hours until his shroud would run out of power if he shut down every other system. Once that happened, he didn’t have enough power remaining to put up a fight. He probably wouldn’t even be able to leave orbit.
 

He fiddled with the black cylinder containing the suicidal dose of poison between his fingers.
 

Engines of Interceptors boomed overhead, closer this time, the roar bouncing off the canyon walls. A memory of Flin Six popped in his mind when he left Nubern in the Trident as he searched for Ryker. The thought of leaving her on the planet had kept him going through that ordeal, kept him focused on surviving.
 

Alone.
 

Wait a minute, he thought. He had communicated on Flin Six by using encrypted messages on the Whisper. He repeatedly listened for any sign of Ryker’s distress signal. Surely the
Wraith
had encryption technology, right? The ability to send a long-range message over gamma waves? There had to be something.
 

Deciding it was worth the risk, he activated the dashboard and cycled through the communications. Everything was in Zahlian symbols, but he knew the frequency the Legion utilized for long range transmissions. The message would no doubt be picked up by the
Dauntless
, but it would get through.

He prepped the transmission. In flight school, Ryker had trained them on using intricate code words whenever transmissions could be intercepted. Racking his brain, he tried to remember the best way to communicate through these codes. It was similar to Morse Code, but it utilized special words interlaced with the tones. It had to work. It was his only chance.
 

With the message recorded, he reviewed the contents. Avoiding too many specifics, he relayed his approximate position, both in the star system and on the planet. He advised his time was running out. It made sense to him, but he hoped the receiver would understand as well. If they didn’t, well, they had to understand, or he wasn’t going to be here in a couple hours.
 

He fired up the communications and sent the long range message into space, hoping it would reach someone—anyone—who was listening.
 

The red alert wailed through the corridors of the
Formidable
. Captain Ryker “Scorpion” Zyan jumped from her bed in her quarters, spilling her morning tea. The hot beverage scalded her legs, and she furiously brushed the standing liquid to the floor. She rushed to her mirror, grabbed the towel and tossed it into the small puddle.