Beamer in their midst.
I sneak a glance over my shoulder for the joy of catching Wen’s slack-jawed confusion. Then a glance to my side, for the breathless, wild grin I knew Gal would be wearing.
Chuckling, I spur us farther along our reckless path. The Ruttin’ Hell hums cheerfully beneath my hands, and I throw a loop into our vector to taunt the Torrent’s command. No matter how much they doubt Gal might be aboard, they can’t run the risk of firing until they know for sure. I almost feel sorry for them. The Torrent is a mighty annihilator, and a surprisingly slippery Beamer has reduced it to a carnival sideshow.
And the humiliation on the outside is nothing compared to what’s going on beneath the dreadnought’s skin. The initial force, led by the Vipers we stuffed down the open launch tubes, has cleared a path for the true invasion, forcing open hangar doors to bring in ships brimming with Archon soldiers. In turn, they cut through the Torrent’s internal security officers with a combination of boltfire and strategic venting of the ship’s air supplies, facilitated by techies jacked into its systems. They’re wrestling their way down through the architecture to the heart of the Torrent, where the armored bridge sits.
It’s laughably early when another hail flickers across our dash, the broadcast code confirming its origin as Archon. Gal picks it up, grinning wide as Adela Esperza’s sweaty, grimy face glows in front of us. She tucks a strand of inky hair back behind her ear, pulls her ponytail taut, and tips a salute with her mechanical hand.
“Attention, all local vessels,” she announces in an even voice that barely betrays her delight. A faint triumph rhythm pounds beneath her words. “The acting captain of the Torrent, Nita con-Silon, has ceded command to me, Colonel Adela Esperza. I claim this ship and all its assets in the name of the Archon Empire. Those who have any sort of quarrel with my command will face the Torrent’s fire. Those who wish to surrender…” She pauses, her eyes glimmering with pride and rage and a thousand other emotions I know I shouldn’t be feeling. “Get in line.”
With no superluminal drives, the scrambled Vipers have no choice. Their launch tubes open welcomingly, the shimmer of vented air inviting them in. The Archon forces abandon the Torrent’s hull, leaving the path to the Vipers’ surrender clear and unquestionable. One by one, they wheel toward their berths. One by one, their guns go cool.
Another ship appears on the radar, winking into existence ahead of the Torrent’s fore. It’s the size of a city block, but it seems insignificant against the scale of the dreadnought. It faces down the conquered Torrent, proud and unyielding.
Maxo Iral has arrived to claim his victory.
My heart thunders in time with the triumph drums as the soldiers in the hold pick up the beat. For a moment, I forget that I’m not supposed to want this. For a moment, everything feels right.
Gal finally twists back in his seat—finally relinquishes Wen’s hands, I notice with a smirk. There’s a slight tremor in his fingers as he drags them across the navigation, his eyes fixed on the newly arrived flagship, and suddenly I’m sunk in the reality of what’s happened. The victory we’re celebrating is nothing but the first stage of a plan that ends in Archon’s final defeat. “No going back now,” Gal mutters under his breath.
Behind us, Wen inhales sharply. I turn around to look her in the eye, and she scowls at me. On the unburned half of her face, the expression is already uncompromising, but the burn triples her fury. “One of you, start talking,” she demands.
“Start talking about what?” Gal asks, still focused on the communications bouncing around the assault fleet as they solidify their victory.
“What that was? How we did this? How any of this is possible? They were well within their rights to vaporize us, and they didn’t. You said they wanted to take you alive, but they deployed forty Vipers to try to bring you in and then didn’t fire a single shot at you.”
I keep my face blank. Impassive. She can’t see through me now.