Buck Rogers in the 25th Century: Far Beyond the World
Part VII - Gone Baby Gone
Flying through space at unbelievably speeds...
Last of it's four vessel patrol squadron, the Draconian Hatchet-Fighter fled across the ebony cosmos, and the bird-ship of the bold warrior called Hawk followed in close pursuit.
Aboard his one-of-a-kind sleek winged Avian-Class, the hook-nosed alien hunched over the cockpit controls, razor-sharp eyes locked on the projected image of the fleeing craft as it weaved back-and-forth across his targeting sites, it's pilot doing everything he could to avoid his predator getting a lock.
Come to me, my enemy, glared Hawk as his gauntleted fist gripped his bird-headed control stick, his thumb hovering menacingly overtop the firing stud which would unleash xanthic death upon his target with barely a stroke. Long have we duelled across the endless nocturne of empty space, but now...now your end draws NIGH!
Hawk's lips pursed in concentration as his bird-shaped craft closed on the Draconian's, as it's top speed was faster then it, if only slightly. But it was enough, and he was confident the chase would soon be over and victory would be his!
The Draconian had tried every trick in the book to lose Hawk during the last nerve-wracking twenty minutes, but to no avail, he couldn't even begin to shake him.
What manner of being IS this that hunts me?! the swarthy pilot Jhelun gawked in terror at the rear-facing image glowing up at him from his flight board. The bizarre vessel with it's beak-shaped prow crawled ever-closer and the rolling and banking he'd been doing for what seemed like an eternity now were starting to make him queasy.
What am I to do?! The Draconian Private's mind whirled beneath his heavy helmet. His jamming package is much too powerful, I cannot breach the interference no matter what I do. And so I cannot get a message back to the star fortress! Which is meaningless anyway, because if I come back without the rest of my squadron, reporting that the returning Earth vessel still exists, that we failed to destroy it despite the overwhelming tactical edge in our favor, then I will be executed on the spot! Despite the fact that it's not my fault! Lieutenant Bonengel is to blame, not I! His overconfidence cost him and my fellow pilots their ships and their lives!
And now Bonengel's incompetence shall lead me to my own demise, either later at the hands of the Dynasty for failing them, or within the very next minute if this bird-like ship dogging my every move finally locks onto my fuselage and blows my vessel to the stars!
At that moment Private Jhelun's complex banking maneuver faltered and he wavered for a half-a-second too long in the Avian's crosshairs, Hawk stabbed the trigger and a yellow pulsar beam joined the two craft beak-to-fuselage for a devastating second!
Flame sizzled and plating crackled, and the only thing that saved the Draconian from going up like his three compatriots was the heightened armor that had recently been installed. So instead blowing sky-high, he just lost an engine in a shower of aft-flying carbonized particles that whirred and deflected off of Hawk's canopy a moment later. He blinked, momentarily blinded, and fought quickly to compensate, but Private Jhelun hadn't been the last of his squadron to survive for nothing; he actually had some natural piloting skill and had been top of his class at the Draconian Fight Academy.
In the few free moments he had as his ship rocked-and-rumbled from the hit, his goggled eyes saw his pursuer's own weaving to regain control and his trained hands and feet instantly reacted! His booted feet slammed pedals and he yanked back HARD on his stick! His Marauder dived fast and space whirled around him maniacally, he was thrown back into his chair, the air went shooting out through his grit teeth, then he pushed the stick back and his fighter levelled out, rising into position directly BEHIND the Bird-Ship!
"NOW I HAVE YOU!" he railed at his enemy in triumph.
And he might have, if it wasn't for the Moon.
Almost at the same moment, proximity alarms sounded in either cockpit and both pilots snapped out of their combat fugue and retasked their Scanners, expanding the range to the max. They both saw it instantly, it was impossible to miss now, and they threw their sticks downwards one-after-another, the noses of their crafts jerked upwards and they rose up out of their twin dives toward the grey rocky surface!
What is this?! Hawk's mind raged as his Bird-Ship rocketed overtop the jagged terrain of grey rock, while his exhaust kicked up a cloud of grit a kilometer high in his wake. Rogers did not mention Earth had a satellite! I nearly collided with it, how big is it?
He skimmed the Scanner screen while his fighter skimmed the surface of the planetoid, and saw that it was massive. His gaze returned forward and his eyes went wide, the Marauder had vanished!
What?! Where did it go?
There was nothing on the Scanner and he panned his sharp gaze back-and-forth but could not catch site of his prey. How could it just up and vanish so quickly? There had been no warning.
Hawk activated a topographic scan and expanded it back along their path. A moment later he spotted it, a large crater that he had flashed past probably in less then a second, but the Draconian must have ducked inside it to hide.
"No matter," the Bird-Man scowled savagely and sent his ship winging to starboard in a flare of thrusters, vectoring at a sheer angle just ten meters above the Moon's surface.
The crater loomed in the distance and he levelled out, kicked in the engines and surged forward toward the attack. He hunched over the controls and readied a thermal charge, all the while keeping his pulsar cannon ready. If the Marauder stayed down in the crater to avoid being sniped then he'd bomb the devil out with the deadly charge!
His scowl morphed into a dark grin, "Victory once again goes to Hawk-" but he broke-off his oath as NINE enemy fighters rose up out of the crater in a flare of thrusters.
"HOW?!" Hawk shouted as he attempted desperately to dodge.
As one unit they opened up with their blaster cannons, Private Jhelun's Hatchet-Fighter in the center of the line of Draconians, grinning madly with vengeance as they unleashed their deadly barrage!
Six paired energy beams missed the Avian as it banked in a rush to port, while the the rest struck her underside. Flame broiled across the hull of the Bird-Ship and a pulsar blast ripped through the high-tipped port wing and slagged out the top! Explosions rocked the fighter and it spiralled out of control, soaring first high into the vacuum, then nosing back down, corkscrewing toward the surface trailing a contrail of grey smoke.
In the cockpit, fat red sparks flew and alarms of all kinds klaxoned. Hawk fought to regain control with everything he had, but it was to no avail and the surface of the Moon rose up rapidly to meet him.
So...it ends here, the Bird-Man leaned back resolvedly in his pilot's chair as his fighter screamed between two rising peaks of grey rock and plummeted into a deep valley at a steep angle.
He stared up through the cockpit glass at the distant blue-green marble of Earth. At least I have seen the birthplace of my people before I pass onto the next stage of spiritual existence. I wish I could have strode her lands, especially Easter Island, home of my race before the Exodus so long ago.
But it was not to be...
Hawk shut his eyes and sent a silent prayer to Make-Make, the Great God of the Bird-People, to prepare for his coming, and three seconds later his fighter plowed into the bottom of the lunar gorge.
To be continued...