The Dead Fleet (Juggernaut #3)

Sixty Four

Malachi weaved through the remains of the fleet, doing everything he could to stay away from the space junk around him, and one step ahead of the laser fire behind him.

The scene around him was chaos. Agent fighters and pirate ships filled the sky. Malachi was a target of opportunity, unarmed and valuable. Every other ship seemed to be armed. That was his saving grace. With the other ships fighting among themselves he still had a chance.

Malachi opened the throttle as fast as he dared and the Valkyrie's engines settled into a low growl. He knew they could do more, they had already flown faster on the journey to Praxis, but he didn't have Ellie's reflexes and instincts. Ellie would fly as fast as she could. Malachi would only fly as fast as he dared.

An agent fighter flashed past him, spinning out of control, trailing smoke. Two pirate ships caught the damaged ship in a cross fire, cutting it in two. The fighter exploded in front of him him, sending shrapnel in all directions and filling his cockpit with blinding light

Malachi threw one arm over his eyes. The impact warning buzzed urgently for his attention. He pulled the flight stick right and forward with the other. Something banged against the engine housing, and he prayed it wasn't serious.

The pirates swooped past each other to circle back on Malachi's position.

Malachi took the controls in both hands as the pirates opened fire. The pirate's weapons were of a lesser quality than the cabal agents. They weapons had a lower rate of fire and did less damage than the guns equipped by the agent's fighters , but any damage was bad. Any direct hit could really spoil his day.

He dived deeper, faster, spinning and spiralling down. The misses continued to impact other parts of the fleet. The biggest wrecks were unaffected. Smaller pieces, depending on their mass, were gently pushed aside to begin a new chain reaction of movement.

The smallest pieces, about the size of a Valkyrie interceptor, were vapourised within two or three hits.

Malachi swallowed.

He saw to his left a broken warship, almost as big as the Solar Forge. It was almost undamaged from this side. Apart from the strange black marks on the hull caused by oxygen-fuelled fires in a zero-gravity environment, you would never know it had been destroyed.

He flew closer, trying hard to concentrate on what he knew about ship construction despite the laser fire creeping up behind him.

He crested the hull and swooped around, and saw the rest of the ship. From this side, you could definitely tell it had been destroyed.

Half the surface had been ripped open, and the insides of the ship had been scooped out in one or more massive explosions. A trail of small debris was drifting out of the hole. Even a ship this big could be moved by enough impacts and the shockwaves. The debris trail was the evidence of the path it had taken. The debris wasn't moving, it stayed floating in place where it had been for decades, hidden inside the broken warship until it had slowly moved away.

Malachi's scanner pulled in the new data and filled his screen. The two pirate ships were not on the scanner as confirmed blips. There was no line of sight, and this warship was blocking sensors. The pirates existed as dashed outlines following a projected course.

But he knew they were coming.

Malachi put his hand on the throttle, ready to accelerate. He gripped the control, changed his mind at the last moment, and pulled back instead.

The Valkyrie reversed thrust. Malachi slammed forward into this seat restraint. The deceleration was so hard he felt his teeth were going to escape.

The ship slowed almost to the pace of the debris trail. Malachi killed the power. The cockpit went dark, the engines died. Safety systems knew he was still on board and maintained life support. He could breath, if he wanted to.

He held is breath anyway.

With the scanner offline, Malachi had to search the darkness above him for the pirate ships. They soon appeared. They split up almost at once. Their target was hiding.

He knew they would see him soon. The Valkyrie engines were still hot, and his ship was bigger than the surrounding debris and moving at a different rate in a different direction. The ruse would only by him seconds, he knew that, but every second was another chance to live. Once they flew by he could fire up the engines and get out of here, and he would be safe until the next life or death decision.

Easy.

The pirates slowed down. They were searching. Malachi doubted their sensors would be any good, judging by the quality of all the other tech he had seen. That would buy him a few more seconds.

They all counted, and he counted every one.

A container floated past his cockpit. He read the label. It was almost a pleasant diversion. It took his mind off the imminent threat of death.

Malachi finished reading the label. Finished digesting the warning signs. He looked around at all the other high-explosive barrels.

He counted every one. They all counted.

'Oh, come on,' he whispered to himself, for fear of attracting attention.

Like things could get any worse.

His scanner beeped, and flashed red.