Dark Space by Stephen A. Fender

navigational computer to bring his fighter back automatically.
He pondered if opening the channel would press his luck too far, but decided
that—if this was to be the end of his career as he had come to know it—he would
still try to do it by the book. Pressing the switch, he opened a channel to the Duchess ’s communications system.
       “Go ahead, Duchess .
This is Kestrel.”
       “I’d sure like to know what
the hell you’re doing in one of my fighters, mister.” It was Ramos, and he was
far from happy.
       “Just going after our
little problem, sir.” Shawn said, trying to sound both casual and calm,
although he felt neither.
       “You don’t have
authorization for this, Commander. We’ve got two interceptors already on patrol
on the far side of the planet. They’ll be in range in ten minutes. We’re also
launching additional fighters to support them, any they’ll be away in less than
five. That’s more than enough to handle one rogue fighter. Now get your ass
back here on the double, Commander. That’s an order.”
       “I’m already in range.
Besides, Santorum will be long gone before your fighters ever get close.”
       “That’s an opinion, and not
one up for debate, Commander,” Ramos replied angrily. “If you’ve got some
personal vendetta for what he did to Roslyn, let me tell you this: we picked up
a life sign reading from what remains of her craft. We’re sending out a team to
retrieve her as we speak. Now you get back here this instant or you’ll find
yourself on the losing end of my patience, not to mention a court-martial.”
       Shawn breathed a short sigh
of relief, knowing that Roslyn was still alive. Still, that was of little
comfort over what he still needed to do. Nova needed to be brought back, and if
Shawn didn’t act quickly, there wouldn’t be a chance in hell of that happening . Once Santorum was through the jump gate he could easily destroy the one at his
end point, sealing any chance of bringing him to justice.
       “I’m sorry, Captain,” Shawn
replied regretfully. “This is something I have to do. I guess that faith you
had in me was misplaced.” Reaching down, he silenced the communications channel
before reaching for the thruster control. With one hand on the control stick,
he pushed the accelerator to full burn, rocking the fighter in a burst of
acceleration that pushed him back into his seat.
       “Full military power cannot
be maintained for much longer, dear,” the synthetic female voice of the
computer chimed in after two minutes.
       Shawn looked down at his
sensors, noting with satisfaction that Nova had just entered his weapons range,
still seemingly oblivious to his pursuer. Flipping on the ship-to-ship, Shawn
opened a channel to him.
       “Jerry, this is Kestrel. I
know you’re in there. Disengage your weapons and return to base.” There was no
answer, and the jump gate was getting dangerously close. “Jerry … don’t make me
open fire on you.” Again Shawn was met with silence. “Computer, charge the
particle cannons.”
       “You got it, baby,” it
replied a second later.
       On the sensor screen, Shawn
watched as two additional fighters came into range. The interceptors from
the Duchess . Grasping the control stick tightly, Shawn fired a short
burst of rounds that skirted Nova’s Maelstrom. Not close enough to hit him,
they did an admirable job of causing the wayward pilot to veer off from the
jump gate. Still, Nova was a capable pilot, and could get his fighter to turn
on a dime if need be. Shawn figured he had less than sixty seconds to end the
situation before it became critical.
       As if reading Shawn’s
thoughts on the matter, Jerry pivoted his fighter in a one-hundred-eighty-degree
hard turn. For a moment, the two fighters were head to head, and Jerry took the
opportunity to fire a single missile at Shawn.
       Correctly sensing the
maneuver, Shawn veered to port, narrowly avoiding the missile in