Lenny and Sprocket watched, horrified, as the fireball engulfed the war cruiser. One moment it was there, and the next it was a bright blur of explosion and hurtling debris. They'd both seen Corporal Brooks enter the ship. It wasn't hard to guess what he had been doing.
For once Lenny was too shocked to even buzz to himself, and Sprocket was just as silent. At last they exchanged a glance, and Sprocket nodded towards the remaining three Rangers heading their way.
"Let's get them aboard," he whispered.
Lenny nodded, and they launched forward.
When they reached the team, Lenny saw the looks of disbelief on each face. Turner— someone the Vermilcidian had always thought was tough enough to face an oncoming plasma storm and laugh—had wet eyes, and the other two Rangers were silent, shell-shocked.
"This way," urged Sprocket, leading the party back towards the cruiser.
Turner sniffed, pulling herself together. "We have to hurry. Our cruiser's core is in the middle of a meltdown."
They flew as fast as they could, quickly reaching 54's open launch tubes. "You four go in first," said Sprocket. "I'll be right behind you."
His comm beeped. "Hurry!" It was Vok. "Blaze says the cruiser's about to blow!"
Lenny was already halfway through the launch tube, but he heard. He almost turned back to let Sprocket go in first instead, but he decided that would just waste time. He crawled down, an action that reminded him of burrowing through the many tunnels crisscrossing the underground cities of Vermilcidia. He'd always been a good burrower, and it only took him a few seconds to reach the end of the tube. As soon as he was out, he called up to Sprocket to follow.
"I'm coming!" his friend answered.
Lenny waited. Suddenly, without warning, the whole cruiser shook, hard enough to knock him off his feet and onto the hard floor. The other three Rangers were already safely aboard, and they grasped at whatever was at hand to keep their footing.
"Bloody hell," muttered Janet. "There goes our ship."
The core. Lenny realised he was buzzing, buzzing as fast and hysterically as he'd ever buzzed before. "Ssssprocket!" he called into his radio. "Sprocket, did you get clear?"
There was no answer. There was, however, the sound of something sliding through the launch tube above. Lenny looked up, his antennae twitching furiously. He stepped back.
Sprocket's limp form emerged from the tube, slamming down upon the floor. The thud made Lenny feel sick. There was a tense pause; all four Rangers waited. Lenny held his breath. But Sprocket didn't get up. He made no move at all.
Lenny found himself rushing forward, pulling the other Ranger into his arms, cradling his head. He couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. His helmet was cracked—clearly the shockwave had hit him before he was completely through the tube. Lenny could see blood leaking from a nasty wound on his forehead. "Sprocket," he breathed, clutching him desperately.
The Dreadnought was still barrelling straight towards them, and Buzz was still hellbent on getting aboard, but that wasn't what held Mira's attention now. She and the rest of the team had just received news of Star Cruiser 36's destruction. Vok told them all about what Captain Astri had done—Mira felt her cheeks burn hot, knowing it was one of her own people—and then he told them what had happened to Corporal Frank Brooks. There was silence when the team heard. The first Ranger down. They all knew it would happen sooner or later, but Mira found herself gulping back tears now that it was a reality. She'd known Brooks—not well, he kept to himself mostly—but he'd been a good person. She wondered how his team was taking it.
"Did you get the rest of Team Turner aboard safely?" asked Buzz, once the hush was over.
"I think so." There was a pause as Vok checked. "Blaze, is everyone— What? Craters, what?!"
Buzz frowned. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"I... I don't know. Sprocket Crockett was caught in the explosion. I don't know if he's okay. Sorry, I have to go, Lightyear. I-I've got to check on him."
"Understood. Lightyear out."
Mira let out a deep sigh. Sprocket—another good Ranger. One of the nicest people she'd ever met. Sweet Mother of Venus, she thought. If anything happens to him, what will Rocket do?
"We have to stop this," Buzz muttered. "We have to stop Zurg."
He was right, but she found herself wincing once again at the prospect of Buzz sneaking onto the Dreadnought and taking on the emperor all by himself. It meant too much to him—he'd be willing to go to any lengths to stop him. Just like Brooks had made the ultimate sacrifice to save his team. She wasn't going to let that happen, not to Buzz. But even if she went with him like he'd planned, she knew she still couldn't stop him if he was determined enough to risk his life in some stupid way. It hadn't worked when he'd wanted to slingshot around that black hole and it wouldn't work now. His stubbornness was more than a match for her own—the only person she knew who might give him a run for his money was her father, and even then Buzz might just win.
"Buzz," she said steadily, "we should go back."
"What?" He blinked.
"The fleet needs us back there. Nebula can't do it all on his own! Look what's happening already—Astri's starting to take things into his own hands and at least one Ranger is dead. Things'll fall apart without you to keep everyone together." She looked at him pleadingly. "Come on, Buzz, they look up to you. Everyone. The other Rangers, the alien captains—they'll listen to you. Nebula is just Star Command to them, but you're something more. You represent the whole Galactic Alliance, and everything that's good. You have to lead them!"
"But Zurg—"
"I know." This was the part where she had to ignore everything her instincts were telling her and just do what felt right. She'd become better at controlling her impulsive side over the years, but now it was time to forget all that and embrace it. "I'll handle him. Sorry, Buzz."
She was out of her seat before he could say a word, already bounding off the bridge. She heard him call after her, but she didn't turn around. Not even wasting time on the doors, she ghosted right through and up into the shuttle. Her fingers found the controls in an instant and she seated herself, working the launch sequence as fast as she could, releasing the magna-locks before Buzz could override them from 42. He was going to be furious the next time she saw him, but she could worry about that later.
There was a mechanical whirr and something popped up into the seat beside her. "Mira, what are you doing?"
Craters. It was XR. He must've launched himself aboard through the travel duct next to his station. "XR, get out of here!" she snapped.
"Mira, stop!" His hands were reaching over the controls, trying to snatch her hands away from the launch button. "Have you gone space wacky?!"
"I have to do this XR!" She flung him out the way, slamming her fist on the button. The engines fired up and the shuttle was off, leaving 42 behind. Leaning back, she realised what she'd just done. XR was still aboard. She glared at him. "You should've stayed on the cruiser!"
He sniffed indignantly. "I was trying to stop you from doing something monumentally stupid, but I see I was too late for that!" Folding his arms, he looked around. "So what exactly are you trying to accomplish? Besides getting us both killed, of course."
"Uh, y'know, same plan as Buzz... just, uh, without Buzz." She laughed nervously.
"Oh, great! Now I'm really feeling confident about your sanity."
She scowled. "Look, you're not supposed to be here, okay? It was just going to be me! I was trying to keep you all safe!"
The robot looked like he was about to answer with some smart remark, then stopped himself and shrugged, realising the futility of it. "Well, now what?"
"We can't go back, so I guess you're coming with me."
"What? Onto the Dreadnought? Are you kidding?!"
"Hey, if you wanna stay here and get shot at by Zurg, go right ahead..."
He sighed and muttered something to himself about crazy Tangean princesses.
Commander Nebula held onto his console to steady himself as another blast rocked the Tigran ship. He stared despondently at the screen. Things weren't going so well—the fleet he'd been trying to keep in order was falling apart, each faction either panicking or working to their own plan without consulting him. He didn't mind the individual captains taking their own initiative in some things, but blast it, they couldn't just do what Astri had done! He was used to working with a disciplined, obedient fighting force and the chaos he had to deal with now was grinding at his limited patience.
The ship shuddered again.
"What was that?" demanded Brizaran.
"It's one of the smaller enemy vessels," reported Dellat. "They've... they've clamped onto the hull! They're cutting a hole through the bottom of the ship!"
"Order our other ships to blast them off! I won't have them clinging to our hide and getting their soldiers aboard!"
Nebula stood up straight. "Permission to lead an armed party down there to hold them off, General?" He may have been in charge of the fleet, but this was still her ship and he wouldn't take any action without getting her approval first.
"Granted." She nodded curtly and turned to one of her crewmen. "Tell Third Prideswoman Gerellan to send a team to the section the enemy is cutting into. Commander Nebula will join her there."
Nebula saluted and left the bridge, marching briskly down the corridor. He knew he probably should've stayed at his station, but he wasn't doing much good there and the tedium was getting to him. He was just itching for some action. He was a Space Ranger, for pete's sake! He was supposed to be out fighting, protecting people, not standing around like a stinking diplomat trying to make everyone play along nicely!
When he reached the lower decks, he met up with a party of Tigran soldiers dressed in thick battle armour and sporting large plasma rifles. Slipping beside their leader—Third Prideswoman Gerellan, he assumed—he marched in time with them as they headed for the point of entry. "Hello, Commander." Gerellan nodded to him in greeting.
He nodded back.
They reached the section and Gerellan unsealed the doors. Immediately a green blast shot over her, singing the tufts of her ears. "Get down!" she ordered her team.
The ship had been breached. Nebula ducked out the way as another shot zapped past. Peering around the door, he saw squadrons of Hornets streaming through the hole they'd cut in the hull. He readied his laser and fired. The nearest Hornet exploded in a shower of sparks and shrapnel, clunking loudly as it hit the floor. The rest of the Hornets opened fire and Nebula pulled back around the corner.
A pair of Tigrans leaped forward and fired, balancing the heavy plasma rifles easily in their strong hands, as if they were merely toys. They took out three more Hornets before they were forced to jump back.
"How many do you think there are?" Gerellan asked.
"No telling," grunted Nebula. "But if I know Zurg, he'll have packed a whole army into that ship."
"Think we can take them?"
Nebula grinned. "You bet."
Hornets had one advantage and one advantage only—Zurg could make an awful lot of them awfully quickly. But they weren't very strong and they were even stupider than they were ugly. Zurg had other, tougher robots—Beetles, for example—but Hornets were the most easily mass-produced. They worked well keeping civilians in line, but Nebula knew that even their strength in numbers was little match against trained, intelligent opponents like his Rangers, or these Tigrans. It was like he always said—no mindless machine could replace an organic, and adding another hundred machines wasn't going to change that. Of course, not all machines were mindless, he thought—something he wouldn't have even considered a few years ago—but these Hornets certainly were.
Together he and Gerellan jumped into the doorway, blasted a few more Hornets, and somersaulted away as enemy fire rained down on them. Somersaulting was considerably harder and more painful than he remembered it being, Nebula noted as he picked himself up, but it had been some twenty years since he last remembered doing it.
"Keep them back!" Gerellan shouted. "Don't let them pass through this door!"
The sound of heavy metallic footsteps filled Nebula's ears as waves of Hornets marched through the corridor. He peaked around the corner. They were heading for the doors, arms held up, ready to fire. They were going to try their best to get past the armed party, and they certainly had the numbers for it. Nebula wondered just how many Hornets had been crammed into the ship that was now latched onto them.
"We'll hold 'em off," he assured Gerellan. "There's no way they're not getting through." He hoped he was right. Either way, this beat the heck out of sitting behind a desk signing vacation forms and requisition orders.
Incoming message. Incoming message. Incoming message.
Mira ignored the alert on her screen. She knew it was just Buzz trying to hail her, and she certainly wasn't about to answer. Beside her, XR was fidgeting nervously.
"You know, we really ought to turn around," he muttered. "We can go back to 42, explain to Buzz it was just a misunderstanding..."
"No." Her voice was firm. "Sorry, XR, I didn't want you getting caught up in this, but we have to stop Zurg!"
He rolled his eyes. "Now you're starting to sound like Buzz. Why couldn't you have left it to him?"
"I'm not letting any of my team get hurt," she insisted.
The Dreadnought was looming in front of them now, the distance closing fast as the two ships approached each other at full speed. Somewhere behind them, 42 was following. Mira wished Buzz had taken her advice and gone back to the rest of the fleet.
"Uh, Mira..."
"Uh-oh." Mira grimaced as the Dreadnought's cannons swivelled in their direction. That was some serious weaponry—proton beams, plasma missiles, you name it and Zurg had it. In extra large size too. "Hold tight, XR!"
She pulled the ship up abruptly as a wave of red pulses filled the expanse, surging straight for them. They dodged just in time and the pulses harmlessly dissipated in the vacuum of space. Her heart dropped when a plasma missile rocketed towards them next. Her hands jerked the controls in all directions, but everywhere they moved the missile followed.
"Okay, this is not good, this is not good at all!" Biting her tongue, she zigzagged the shuttle in an attempt to shake it off. No success. Once a plasma missile locked on, it would follow its target to the ends of the universe—or until its power cell ran out, anyway.
XR waved his arms up and down. "Abandon ship, Mira! We have to abandon ship!"
"No! I'm not giving up!"
Suddenly the blip on her screen disappeared. The missile was gone. Swinging the shuttle around to see what had happened, she heaved a sigh of relief and smiled. Gasses were swirling around 42 as it emerged from the fading explosion left by the missile it had just shot down. "Thanks Buzz."
With renewed confidence, she set a course for the Dreadnought again. The massive ship was rapidly reaching the edge of Zurg's fleet, and soon it would be ready to engage the Galactic Alliance. Mira cringed at the thought. She had to stop Zurg before that happened. Before any more lives were lost.
"Plucky." Zurg eyed the tiny shuttle buzzing around in front of them like a Jo-Adian fruit fly. "I wonder what they're planning." He'd ordered the ship shot down immediately and was less than thrilled that his useless minions had yet to accomplish this, but he couldn't help being curious. Was Lightyear aboard the shuttle? Surely he wouldn't send his rookies out on such a dangerous mission, whatever the mission was?
But the piloting didn't match Lightyear's usual flair. He knew Buzz's style well after so many years, and somehow he was sure Buzz was still aboard 42. Not that it really mattered in the grand scheme of things—he was going to destroy both ships anyway—but he would like to know what they were up to first. Curiosity had always been a weakness he indulged in.
His fingers tapped methodically on the armrest of his throne. If it wasn't Buzz on the shuttle then it had to be... Ah, yes. Of course. The Tangean princess. Mira Nova was going to try to ghost aboard. How clever.
He enjoyed his dealings with the princess Ranger. She was good at her job, and smart too—but not nearly as good or as smart as she thought she was. Unlike Buzz, it was always so easy to keep one step ahead of Nova. The headstrong rookie was easy to predict, whatever the Tangeans said about mental superiority, and he'd lured her into his traps more than once. He could outsmart her every time. Well, almost every time. He still wondered sometimes why she'd stepped out of that reactor during her power ghosting kick, when he'd been so sure she would give in to her cravings. It defied his understanding. She could have had all the power she'd ever wanted (not that it would work, of course, because she'd be dead thanks to his ingenious evil plan, but that wasn't the point), and instead she'd given it up. Just given it up. For what? He shook his head. She was such a fool.
But this situation was different. He knew he could outsmart her this time. She thought if she let 42 take out all opposition while she got close enough to the Dreadnought to ghost through, she'd be okay. Well, tough.
"Grubs," he ordered, "Launch three more plasma missiles. Two at 42 and one at the shuttle."
His supply of missiles was limited, but he decided a little extravagance would be worth it. This was Team Lightyear, after all. 42 would be okay—they could probably handle those two missiles in their sleep. But they couldn't handle all three at once. He imagined the look on Buzz's face when the shuttle went up in flames. Could the man watch his own rookies die and still have the stomach to keep fighting?
The only thing Nebula could hear above the laser blasts was the sound of his own raspy breathing and the pounding of his heart. He dove to the floor to avoid another round of Hornet fire, raising his arm as he lay on his stomach and blasted the robot to kingdom come. Two more Hornets were right behind it, marching through the open doors. Gerellan got one, but the other shot one of the Tigrans in the shoulder before it too burst open from a blast to the chest.
The wounded Tigran screeched in pain, reminding Nebula of a cat whose tail had been stepped on. She dropped her rifle and clutched at her shoulder, still moaning. One of the other soldiers pushed her aside and took her place.
They were on the front line, holding the Hornets back as they tried to breach the rest of the ship. The floor was littered with smoldering Hornet parts and blackened bulkheads, but more Hornets continued to pour in. For every one they shot down, two more seemed to spring up from nowhere. Nebula was beginning to rethink his assessment of them—numbers could be a formidable advantage, even when you were as dumb as a brick.
He rolled over and onto his feet, taking up a position beside Gerellan. Despite not being as battle-hardened as her general, she was putting up a good fight against the Hornets. Nebula couldn't fault her determination. Round after round of plasma fire issued from her rifle, sending Hornet guts flying everywhere in a spray of sparks. She didn't even seem to notice the recoil of the gun, though Nebula was sure her arms must have been aching from it by now.
"They just keep coming," she growled as a new wave of Hornets emerged. "Is this ever going to end?"
Before Nebula could answer, one of the Hornets shoved forward, avoiding the barrage of fire from the Tigrans, and knocked the gun from Gerellan's hand. She hissed and tried to grab the rifle from the floor but the robot kicked her back, its hand transforming into a gun.
"Look out!" Nebula shouted.
Gerellan ducked from the blast and charged forward, knocking the Hornet to the ground. Still hissing and spitting, she wrestled with it on the floor, her face set in a grim expression of pain as she tried to push the gun arm away from her. She gripped it so tightly the metal dented beneath her fingers, and inch by inch she twisted it back towards the Hornet's own head. Then she pressed the trigger mechanism on the arm and it fired. Nebula saw her blink as the head exploded in her face, but she was on her feet in a second, wiping the soot from her eyes and picking up her plasma rifle.
The corridor was now crawling with fresh Hornets, and Nebula had his own hands full as three suddenly surrounded him. He jumped aside, evading their shots and kicking one down with his good leg. Then he raised the pegleg and fired at the fallen Hornet, blowing a hole straight through its chest. He was on to the next one in a flash, blasting it with his wrist ray. Before he could turn around, the third grabbed his wrists and pulled him into its arms. He tried to wriggle free, but the metal fingers gripped him like a vice. It began to squeeze, clearly intending to crush him in a deadly hug.
Nebula grunted and gasped, desperately struggling against the robot's grip. "Little help over here!" he called.
Leaping forward, Gerellan raised her rifle, seemed to realise Nebula was too close to the Hornet for her to get off a clean shot, and without missing a beat swung the rifle like a club instead. It smashed against the triangular yellow head, severing it in one quick swipe. Wires sparked uselessly where the head had been, and the Hornet released its hold on Nebula, dropping like a stone.
He heaved a sigh of relief and rubbed his wrists, but he only had a moment's respite. More Hornets were still crawling up from the ship below, like angry ants storming out an anthill.
Suddenly Brizaran's voice came through over the comm. "Helmets up, everyone, and magnetise your boots!"
Nebula and the Tigrans hurried to comply, trying to hold off the Hornets at the same time, and a moment later the commander understood why the general had given the order.
The ship shook and a ball of fire roared up through the hole the Hornets had cut in the floor, incinerating those who were still coming through. Shrapnel flew through as well, and suddenly Nebula felt all the air being sucked out the corridor. Brizaran had finally destroyed the Hornet carrier, and now the hole led into the vacuum of space.
Some of the Hornets were already being sucked out, but the rest magnetised themselves to the floor. Their numbers were greatly diminished, however, and could no longer be replenished. Nebula smiled. Now the tide was going to turn.
She remembered the chase on the outer rim, when they'd somehow made it out of the asteroid field alive. She'd done that, all on her own. She could do this.
Mira watched the blinking light following them on her screen. Zurg had launched three plasma missiles. Three plasma missiles. Two had locked onto 42, and one onto her shuttle. 42 was spiralling away, trying to evade the missiles and get a decent lock on them. They couldn't help her now.
She gritted her teeth and swerved as the missile began to gain on them. It was an old tactic—even animals used it to outrun faster predators. In a straight line, the missile could easily catch up to the shuttle. But if they kept zigzagging, the delay in the automatic guidance system as it constantly corrected its course bought them a little time. Unfortunately, unlike the predators that chased those animals, the missile wasn't going to get tired and give up.
And Zurg was still blasting at them with the Dreadnought's cannons.
She tried to remember her training in concentration, desperately hoping she could avoid all the many shots that were being fired at them. Her brow was sweating and she kept having to remind herself to breathe.
I can do this. I can do this.
The Dreadnought wasn't far now. If she could just get a little closer...
BANG. CRACK. SHATTER.
Suddenly everything was out of control and all her concentration was gone. The ship was spinning about wildly and jostling the two Rangers up and down. Mira could see an orange glow out the corner of her eye. One of Zurg's shots had connected—the shuttle was on fire! A particularly loud alarm caught her attention and she checked the screen.
Hull breach imminent. Abandon ship. Abandon ship.
They were losing structural integrity. Mira gulped. Any second now the whole ship was going to fly apart. And if that didn't finish them off, they had about forty seconds before the plasma missile struck them.
"We have to get outta here!" XR was already heading for the emergency hatch.
Mira pounded her fist on the hatch release controls, but nothing happened. "Aw, come on!" It still wouldn't open.
"Just ghost us out!" said XR.
Mira looked around her, at the cracking interior of the cockpit, at the flames overtaking the hull, at the screens warning her of the hull breach and the incoming missile. Then she looked out at the Dreadnought. So close...
She couldn't fail. Not now.
"XR, we don't stand a chance out there. Zurg'll shoot us down in an instant." She was surprised by how calm she sounded now that she'd made her decision.
"Well we don't stand a chance in here either, so it's no contest to me!"
"This may be our only opportunity to strike a crippling blow against Zurg."
"Are you crazy?! Are you still thinking about that when we're about to die?"
She sat back down in her seat, adjusting their course as best she could, which wasn't easy with the engine on fire. Seven seconds to impact.
"What are you doing?!"
"The missile's not going to stop. Neither are we."
The purple hull of the Dreadnought filled the screen as they rushed closer. Behind them, the missile was right on their tail.
Impact in three...
"Mira—"
Two...
"Sorry, XR." She wrapped her arms around the robot.
One.
A/N: Oh dear.
Thanks as always for the reviews, everyone!