A/N – I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. To date, it was the hardest one for me to write, but it was probably the one I was most satisfied with when it was finished. It's only going to get harder for me to write, but I'm going to try my best to put them out as regularly as I have been. A heartfelt thanks to everyone who's been loyal to the story so far. I plan on exceeding your every expectation. I really want more than anything for you to look back when this is over and realize that you've enjoyed reading this as much as you always enjoyed the real books. Anyway, on that note, enjoy the rest of the story!

Chapter 25

Rachel

The planetary laser fire had stopped, and I saw why shortly after. My scopes showed twelve fighters approaching us from the east, but I shook my head, trying to prioritize. I had more important things to worry about than fighters that weren't here yet.

About five miles above the planet's surface, Marco spun out of control towards the ground. It was a slow descent – his anti-gravity projecters, at least a few of them, were obviously still intact. Slow as his descent was, it was not under any semblance of control. The section of the fighter where the engines used to be burned brightly. The tip of his left wing was totally gone. There were burn marks all along the body of the craft, and as I watched, small pieces were hurled off of the main part of the wreckage.

I knew it would only be a matter of time before his few remaining anti-gravity projectors failed and he started to drop like the misshapen hunk of metal his ship had come to represent. To top it all off, he obviously couldn't hear me trying to communicate with him. I saw that the fighters were closing fast. "Marco! You're getting too close to the planet! You've got to eject now!" I didn't know if he was ignoring me or couldn't hear me. It would be so Marco to be egotistical enough to think he could save the wrecked fighter.

Static didn't do the number on his next communique that it had on the previous few. I actually caught most of what he was saying. "I can't reach the manual release! I can't…arms up to it! …getting sick as hell!"

I slapped my forehead, my hand bouncing off the helmet I'd forgotten was there. "Marco, you idiot, puking isn't going to make you look near as dumb as dying will! Get out of that fighter! It's gone!" As I spoke, something flared on the underside of the dying ship and his drop doubled in speed. I keyed the communicator and got solid static.

"Enemies three kilometers and closing," Lok said tensely. He'd been holding formation with me beside Marco, but I could tell he clearly thought engaging the enemy flight would give Marco more of a chance at survival than being a target beside him. I grimaced. He was probably right. "Orders, Rachel?" he asked, still tense.

Orders? I didn't give orders. I took them. I went above and beyond them, usually. I didn't give them. "Um, let's engage," I said hesitantly. I realized it was up to me to take control, and I relaxed about a hair. "Yeah. One head-to-head pass, fall on them from behind. We'll blow through them on our way back to Marco," I stated more confidently than I felt.

"Ta-tu," Lok bit out. "I'm your wing," he said, and I broke away towards the enemy fighters. He followed my turn precisely, and I smiled. "Death to your enemies, my sun-hair," he wished me luck, and I almost broke out laughing. Here, facing incredible odds against more experienced pilots that outnumbered us six-to-one, this massive alien was calling me the equivalent of 'sweetie' while wishing death upon others in the same sentence. Too bad Marco couldn't appreciate the irony.

The crosshairs on my heads-up display went red, and I released a missile. I quickly got a lock on the fighter next to the first one and let another rocket fly. I suffered the laser barrage and fired my own shredders as we were passing, and I was pretty sure I'd gotten a deflection shot on one of the enemies. Then we were through their formation, and Lok and I were turning our more maneuverable fighters to get on their tails.

"Okura!" Lok yelled in Taruffian. I didn't know what it meant, but he sounded ecstatic. "Three kills for me, three for you, sun-hair."

"On a head-to-head?" I said, disbelieving. In simulators, I hardly ever took one fighter on the first pass, and usually picked up some damage to my own ship. The wireframe schematic of my fighter glowed solid green, a sign that I'd received no damage. I quickly counted the red dots on my sensor board, and saw they'd gone from a dozen to six. "Hell yeah! Let's toast these last six and get Marco out of trouble."

We gained on the remaining fighters swiftly. Apparently, they'd figured out they were no match for us and settled on finishing off Marco. Lok and I fired our shredders at the same time, and two more Trunsk exploded. The remaining four stingrays (my nickname for the Trunsk fighters) came into range of Marco's crippled fighter and opened up with their guns.

Fortunately for Marco, their accuracy was terrible. They seemed to be so worried about dodging me and Lok's shredder blasts that they didn't take two seconds to line up a decent shot. As I watched, another stingray fell prey to Lok's shredders. I missed my target, but stayed on his tail.

A stingray got lucky and hit Marco's fighter. It wasn't a terribly accurate shot – it took off the rest of the left wing and sent the ship into a faster spin. (Hey! Can't you keep them off of me for a minute? Damn!) Marco yelled.

"Marco?" I asked in disbelief. "You're morphing?" I figured he was morphing a bird, though I didn't see how that would help him if he couldn't get his canopy off.

(I can't hear. All I'm getting on the communicator is static. I'm morphing the seagull. Shut up, it was all I could think of,) he said in response to my unspoken jibe. (In about a minute, I'm going to need one of you to shoot this canopy off of the fighter,) he said grimly.

As he spoke, the three remaining fighters turned and vectored in on Lok. Apparently, they were tired of being targets and wanted to fight back. "You'll have to take the shot, Rachel," Lok said gravely. "I'll occupy these pretenders."

Me? Shoot at Marco on purpose? I gritted my teeth and got closer to the doomed fighter. Even though I knew Marco couldn't hear me, I said, "If this works, you own me big time." I was sickened by the feeling of what I was about to have to do. I dropped the crosshairs on the canopy and almost fired, but immediately loosened on the trigger. 'Think, Rachel.' I told myself. 'Drop the power on your shredders so if they do penetrate the cockpit, they're less likely to maim Marco. Get a better angle – decapitate the cockpit, don't shoot into it.' I listened to my own advice and powered the shredders down to thirty percent. Not enough to melt metal instantly, but probably more than enough to break some glass. I got the angle I wanted, knew everything was as good as it was going to get, but still hesitated.

Collision alarms started squawking at me, breaking my concentration. My dive to follow Marco's fighter had brought me a lot closer to the planet than I'd ever intended. (What're you waiting for? Rachel, are you there? Do it!) Marco raged, and I swung my hand as if to swat away his voice. I focused and fired.

The shredder beams, dim in comparison to what they'd been earlier, stabbed out in a line connecting my fighter to Marco's. The glass, which was apparently already broken, came apart with an explosiveness that surprised me. As I pulled up, I saw a white bird shoot out of the cockpit, tiny in comparison to the rest of the ship. (Yee-haw!) Marco yelled. I felt my head swoon as the gravity of the planet tugged at the fighter I was trying to slingshot back into the air. My breathing came roughly and I thought I was going to pass out. Then, I was free of the inertial forces trying to kill me. My sensors told me I'd cleared the planet by about ninety feet. 'I was a millisecond away from being toe jam,' I thought to myself.

I thought that privately. Over the communicator, I said, "No problem! I'll be performing every hour, on the hour. Ace fighter pilots a specialty!" I was ecstatic. I checked my scopes and saw that Lok had cleared out the remaining fighters, although he'd picked up some minor battle damage.

(I'm gonna go hide out over in that gulley for a while,) Marco said casually, as if he hadn't almost just died. (By the way, sweet shooting, Rachel. I'm glad I taught you well.) That remark, which would have irritated me under normal circumstances, just prompted me to smile.

"No problem, you big jerk," I said, as if he could hear me. I heard Lok grunting in laughter.

"I am proud of you, my sun-hair," he told me lovingly.

(On the way down, I managed to make myself useful,) Marco continued. (I spotted a shipyard with a couple of those big battle cruisers docked west of us. I think they'd make pretty nice firewood, unless you guys want to let them get into space. If you decide to torch 'em, don't forget to pick me up on your way out of here. I don't think they're gonna be too happy with me after what we did to their fighter squadrons.)

"Copy that. Lok, let's go light up their cruisers and pick the idiot up. Maybe we can get back to Xylen in time to watch Ax blow the Trunsk fleet to itty bitty pieces," I said, vectoring for the location Marco'd spoken of.

"Yes. I would enjoy that very much," he said, matching my fighter's speed and maneuver. He waggled his wings, a little show of respect to me, and I copied it. The pair of us flew through the baked wasteland in search of some defenseless, half-built battle cruisers to pound on.