CassaStar (31 page)

Rising quickly, he came up under the Cosbolt as it shot over the canopy. Byron fired multiple shots, catching the first two vessels by surprise. The third adjusted and Bassa ordered him to dive at once. Blasts sailed past their left wing, nicking their tail section.

Hang on!
Byron cried as he fought to maintain control of their Cosbolt.

Incoming!
Bassa exclaimed, flashing an image of two approaching Vindicarn.

Desperate to escape, Byron tried to jump the ship. To his chagrin, he lacked the mental strength to perform such a maneuver. Yanking hard to the left, he finally brought the ship under control.

A blinding flash of blue light streaked across the canopy. The stream trailed into the cockpit and Byron felt a jolt of pain that traveled all the way down his spine. Fire erupted in his head, consuming all other thoughts. He cried out in pain and fell forward on the throttle, blinded by agony and unable to sense anything.

Byron!

The ship now spiraled toward the planet at a frightening rate. Bassa grasped his controls, fighting to pull the ship out of its tailspin. The whirling motion was nauseating and if Bassa didn’t regain control soon, he’d be unable to stop their rapid decent.

“
Byron!” he called, aware his pilot could no longer hear his mental voice. “Byron, pull up!”

Keeping his head despite the urgency of the situation, Bassa finally brought the ship’s incessant spinning to a halt. No longer spiraling out of control, he attempted to edge the nose of the ship up and pull away from the planet’s surface. If he continued flying low, perhaps they could avoid detection and return to the Sorenthia. Lacking a pilot and unable to jump, they were in no position to continue fighting.

A laser blast skimmed their canopy. Pushing forward, he sent the ship into another nosedive in an attempt to shake their attacker. Glancing at his screen, Bassa realized there were two Vindicarn ships. At the same moment, a blast struck the side of their Cosbolt, jolting its occupants. Before he could take evasive action, as second bolt struck the ship.

Bassa felt the blow tear through more than the metal. His side burned and he caught his breath as the searing pain shot through his body. He fought the urge to look down for fear it would send his mind into shock. Even now, he could feel himself slipping …

“
Byron!’ he screamed, channeling his last remaining traces of energy into his pilot’s name.

The sound of his name jolted Byron’s senses and he recognized his friend’s voice. He gasped, his eyes closed tight against the flames licking his mind. There was no ignoring Bassa’s commanding tone, though. He had to respond.

Lifting his head, Byron forced his eyes to open. They were no longer plummeting straight toward the ground, but the angle was too steep for anything but a crash landing. Uttering a sound that bordered on a growl, he grasped the throttle. Forcing his body to obey, he pulled back in an attempt to level the ship before impact.

As if moving in slow motion, Byron watched the ground pass in a surreal blur. He detected the horizon as it dropped into view and fought to slow the craft. The ground now raced past the nose of the plane. The boulders leapt at him as if alive, threatening to tear apart the small fighter. Selecting the path of least resistance, Byron pushed the throttle in that direction. Blinking against the searing pain in his head, he braced for a rough landing among the rocks.

The impact bounced the ship in the air. Byron struggled to maintain balance as the vessel struck the ground again. Throwing the thrusters into full reverse, he attempted to dodge the larger boulders as they rose in his path. He was forced to squint even harder as sparks flew from the underbelly of the ship, the rocks scraping against the metal. Byron lost sight of the scene ahead and he felt a sharp jolt as the nose deflected off a rock. His muscles ached from the effort required to maintain a grip on the throttle. About to collapse, Byron suddenly felt another jolt as the ship came to an abrupt halt.

Letting his head fall back against the seat, Byron closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath. In the ensuing silence, he felt himself drift and fought to remain awake. The searing heat in his head made it difficult to think. His name echoed in his head and Byron realized he needed to check on Bassa.

Fumbling with his helmet, he managed to pry it free. Leaning forward, he dropped it in his lap. Forcing his eyes open, he stared at the instrument panel. Everything appeared dark, but he noticed a red blinking light and frowned. The ship had sustained a hull breach.

“
Bassa?” he called, his voice cracking as the sound echoed painfully in his head. “Bassa?”

A soft moan reached his ears and Byron realized his navigator was injured as well. He flicked the distress signal and fumbled for the com.

“
Two officers down,” he stated, trying to keep his voice steady. “In need of immediate medical assistance.”

Byron unfastened his restraints and attempted to raise his body. The sensation sent a shockwave of pain through his head and he winced. Craning his neck, he tried to peer over his seat, but he couldn’t get a clear view. Recalling the planet boasted a breathable atmosphere, Byron reached for the canopy’s lever. He had to pry hard, but the mechanism finally engaged and the canopy slid out of the way. Byron struggled to his feet.

“
Bassa?” he called, grasping the back of the seat and hoisting his body upright.

The movement caused a wave of nausea and he paused with eyes closed. Regaining his senses, Byron opened his eyes and leaned over the back of his seat.

Bassa was slumped in his seat, his body motionless. His eyes were closed and his breathing appeared labored. Byron’s gaze traveled down his friend’s body, checking for injury. It was then that he noticed the blood. A large, red stain circled a tear in Bassa’s flight suit, its expanse widening before his eyes. Byron felt fear grip his chest, threatening to squeeze the air out of his lungs.

He lunged forward and clasped his hand over Bassa’s side. His navigator flinched from the pain this caused, uttering a short cry as his head rolled forward. Byron steadied his friend before fumbling with the instrument cluster below him. His finger finally came in contact with the communication panel.

“
Sorenthia, I need medical assistance now!” he shouted, as if by sheer volume he could entice an immediate response. “Senior officer down. I repeat, senior officer Bassa is down!”

His head pulsated from the effort, but Byron ignored the pain. Reaching under his left arm, he tore at the first aid pack near Bassa’s knee. Byron’s eyes flicked briefly to the gaping hole in the side of the ship and noted the twisted and burnt metal. His hand came in contact with a large gauze pad and he extracted it from the kit. Tearing the wrapping with his teeth, he grasped the gauze and slowly lifted his left hand. Blood had completely soaked his glove, and he covered the wound with the gauze before the sight of charred flesh and protruding innards caused his nausea to return.

Pulling the glove from his free hand, Byron grasped his friend’s shoulder. “Bassa, can you hear me?” he entreated, desperate for a reply.

His navigator’s head rolled back against the seat and Bassa opened his eyes. The man appeared tired beyond his years and his breathing was shallow. Bassa’s lips moved, but behind the helmet, the sounds were muffled.

“
Let me get that off you,” Byron offered.

His fingers found the correct latches, but Byron was afraid to yank the helmet from his friend’s head. Bassa managed to raise his left hand and Byron positioned it before grasping the helmet from the other side. Together, they pulled it off his head, and Byron tossed it out of the cockpit.

“
Bassa!” he cried, taking a deep breath to clear the agony in his head. Byron grasped his friend’s head and forced the man to look him in the eye.

“
Stay with me now!” he ordered, fighting to maintain his composure. “Stay with me until the medical ship arrives.”

Bassa’s chest rose and fell as he fought for every breath. Byron trembled, afraid his friend would succumb to his injuries without a fight. Furious he couldn’t connect mentally, Byron gave Bassa’s head a light shake.

“
Don’t you dare give up on me! You hear me, Bassa? I’m not letting you give up.”

His friend’s eyes lay closed while he spoke, but Bassa’s lids slowly opened. Tinged with sorrow, they revealed none of the spirited fire that Bassa possessed.

“
Byron,” he said in a calm voice, raising a hand to grasp his pilot’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

Those words cascaded down Byron’s spine like a river of ice. The excruciating pain in his own mind was forgotten as he stared at his friend in disbelief.

“
No!” he gasped. “Don’t you dare give up now.”

Closing his eyes, Bassa gently shook his head. Byron swallowed hard, unwilling to believe his friend might die. Bassa had survived too many battles to allow death a victory now. Blood continued to soak his glove through the gauze, its warmth seeping out of Bassa’s body. The sensation sent Byron into a panic.

“
Damn it, you can’t die on me! You’re the only friend I’ve got!”

Bassa’s fingers tightened around his arm even as the rest of his body began to sag. His eyes opened and he met his pilot’s gaze. Uttering a short, desperate cry, Byron leaned closer.

“
Please,” he begged, his eyes filling with tears.

Bassa’s lips slowly parted. “You’ll be all right, little brother,” he whispered.

Byron stared at his friend, his mouth ajar. Unable to connect or stop the lifeblood as it poured from Bassa’s body, he could only watch as the light slowly faded from the man’s eyes. Bassa’s fingers lost their grip and his hand dropped into his lap. Byron felt his neck go limp in his grasp and Bassa’s head dropped against the seat. His navigator was gone.

Byron leaned away, his eyes wide. The pounding in his head shifted to his chest, making it difficult to breathe. No one in Byron’s life had ever believed in him until he met Bassa. The senior officer had chosen to stand by a young man no one else wanted, gaining his trust and encouraging Byron. The man had become the one constant in his world of turmoil and uncertainty. Now his only friend was gone. Byron was alone again.

“
No!” he screamed, agony bursting from his chest. “No!”

Closing his eyes and dropping his head, Byron shook violently as he sobbed, unable to contain his grief. The writhing, burning knots in his stomach overshadowed the scalding fire in his head, and Byron’s body felt twisted to the point of breaking. Convulsing with each racking sob, his lungs ached for air, and the mounting pain threatened to render him unconscious.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Byron pulled Bassa’s limp body closer. He pressed the side of his head against his friend’s cheek, hoping for a measure of comfort as the tears continued to flow. Bassa’s parting words still rang in his ears, and only the sound of his own ragged breath penetrated the throbbing in his head. His senses numb, Byron wanted nothing more than for his body to cease feeling as well. Surrendering to his pain, he felt himself slip down that dark hole and into oblivion.

Voices reached his ears and Byron felt hands on his shoulders. He protested the intrusion as his hold on Bassa slipped. He thought he heard his name spoken, but his focus remained on his friend as his fingers were pried free and physical contact broken. Forcing his eyes to open, Byron watched Bassa’s face vanish from sight as he was pulled over his seat. No longer able to see his navigator, he closed his eyes and allowed strong arms to lift his body from the cockpit.

The sudden movement and jolt as his feet touched the planet’s rocky surface caused his nausea to return. Fighting the restraining hands, Byron broke free. Dropping to his hands and knees, he relieved his stomach of its contents. It eased his queasiness, but his head now pounded twice as hard, and he covered his eyes with his hand. Completely spent, he offered no further resistance as several men lifted his body and deposited him on the floating gurney.

Once inside the medical transport, Byron felt someone wipe his face before placing a mask over his mouth. He opened his eyes and attempted to focus on the figure hovering over his body. Feeling his senses slip, Byron allowed the dark depths to overtake him again.

Chapter Fifteen

When he awoke, his head still ached, but it no longer felt as if consumed by fire. Byron refrained from opening his eyes and returned to the safety of sleep within minutes.