Lunar Showdown 2: Iztla Yerah

 

      "It's less stable than thundrillium, so it loses energy to free ions," Alluro reported, looking up from his instruments.

 

      "What if there was a way to stabilize it?" Psikaris asked, peering over his shoulder.  Said element in question was dyskoenium, the stuff used to power Lunatac ships.  Thundrillium could only be found on New Thundera and Plundarr, neither of which wanted the Lunatacs anywhere near them.

 

      Alluro considered that.  "It still wouldn't be as powerful, but it would help.  I'll see what I can do."

 

      The ice hybrid nodded, then went back to where she had left her notes.  The second Psikaris had got her hands on what the Lunatacs were using for engines these days, she had started to redesign it.  For those of you who just came in, Luna's crew had been out of it due to being trapped in lava or stasis for fifteen hundred years.  And now that the Skytomb crew was officially part of Tycho's Rebellion, they had full access to the base.

 

      Another benefit ( or not, depending on who you asked ) were the uniforms ( Mystan got the most teasing about it.  Since his preferred manner of dress tended to be long robes, the others were surprised to learn he had legs.  Psychro complained, stating a medical reason.  He tended to go around shirtless because his hybrid ice Lunatac powers were screwy, causing him to absorb too much heat from the air.  Which meant that while he could do really big fireballs, he overheated easily.  He was duly stuck in a uniform anyway. )  In their usual, casual, and hopelessly out-of-date clothes, Luna's crew were instantly recognizable.  Now they could fit in.

 

      At least, most did.  Knave and Red-Eye still found themselves ignored or avoided.  Knave because he was half-cheetah, and Red-Eye because he was a darkling.  The Fifth Moon had shut itself off from the Empire years ago, shooting down any ships that come near.  This did not make the darklings popular.  This ostracism affected Red-Eye, who was not used to it, worse than Knave.  Knave seemed to enjoy the attention.

 

      The door to the lab opened, and Cameo and Psychro came in with more books.  Cameo was a new addition to the Skytomb crew, sort of.  Really the icewalker was one of Tycho's pilots, but he had taken it upon himself to help the more scientifically-minded of Luna's crew catch up on technology.  "My friend Frostarin's going to be overhauling his fighter-craft this morning," Cameo announced, dropping his books on Psikaris' desk.  "Want to come along?"

 

      Psikaris smiled and stood up, then paused.  "You going to need any help here, Alluro?"

 

      "No.  Go have fun," the hypnotist replied, waving them off.  Psikaris favoured him with another smile before leaving with Cameo.  After the door closed, he chuckled.  "Ship overhaul.  How romantic."

 

      "Stuff it.  They're just friends.  'Karis hasn't even noticed that he's interested yet."  Psychro set down his books with a thump.

 

      "Of course.  I'm just glad she's over me.  Sweet girl, but I really wouldn't have been able to handle her."

 

      "Hnh."

 

      "Think Cameo will be up to standards?"

 

      "Would you just shut up?"

 

* * *

 

      "We're not a rebel force," Tycho said.  He and Luna were, as usual, in Tycho's conference room, trying to figure out what to do about Aristarchus.  "We're just usually referred to as Tycho's Rebellion."  Tycho had been the Moonking, until Aristarchus ousted him about eight months ago.

 

      For her part, Luna found that the more she learned, the stranger the situation seemed.  "You seem like a rebel group to me."

 

      "I tend to think of rebels as sorely outmatched," he explained, pausing to take a sip of his tea.  "It seems we are, but we're not.  I have the loyalty of the Ice Moon.  Aristarchus has the Graviton, Third, and Desert Moons.  The Dark Moon is, for our purposes, neutral.  However, the Desert Moon has no ships and is still trying to rebuild from a battle with the icewalkers five years ago.  The Third Moon has only a few ships, thus Aristarchus' war power can come almost exclusively from the First Moon.  I have the Ice Fleet, which is the most powerful in the Empire.  So our armies are almost evenly matched."

 

      "If that's so, how did Aristarchus take the throne from you?"  Even with Mystan's help, full-blown Lunar politics still had Luna confused.  She was used to small-scale scheming, not the type where an entire Empire was at stake.

 

      Tycho set his cup down and leaned forward slightly.  "You forget, I am trying to avoid confrontations.  Aristarchus doesn't care what the cost is, so long as he remains in power.  If I had opposed him, hundreds, maybe thousands of our people would have died."

 

      "You'd rather let a power-hungry man take the Empire, rather than shed blood to save it?"

 

      "I'd rather this could be done with a minimum of casualties," Tycho snapped.  Actually, the young Lunatac had been regretting not taking immediate action against Aristarchus.  He knew that the longer he waited, the more support the Moonking could muster, which meant the bigger the fight.  He still would have preferred to negotiate, though.

 

      Luna nodded.  "And Aristarchus used that against you, holding the lives of the Empire hostage until you handed them over."

 

* * *

 

      In the mess hall, Mystan and Darius had drawn some amount of attention.  They were playing a game that could only be described as a cross between chess, Risk, and Dungeons and Dragons.  The only reason they were in the mess hall was because there wasn't enough space anywhere else.  Lord Yerith had called the game 'demon chess', and to Mystan's pleasure, he found Darius to be a quick learner.  "Of course, it doesn't get really interesting until you get four or five players."

 

      "Afraid to take me on one-on-one, eh?" Darius asked.  The banter was actually part of the game, trying to gain a psychological advantage over your opponent.  Conversation designed to distract was also allowed, though pointing and shouting, 'Look!  Over there!' was not.

 

      "Of course not.  I'm here, aren't I?" replied Mystan.  "Ah, well.  I suppose multiple players would be too hard on a beginner like you."  The crowd of onlookers eventually wandered off.  If you didn't know the rules, it looked as if the players were making it up as they went along.

 

      Darius moved a knight over to Mystan's bishop.  "Forgive my curiosity, but what is that beast Luna rides?  I've never seen its like before."

 

      "That beast is Amok, a guardian.  They never were common, but I'd think Tycho would have one.  He is of the royal house."  Then looking at the board, "I don't know if you want to do that.  That bishop is level six."

 

      The shapechanger shook his head.  "I've heard stories, but as far as I can tell, Amok is the first of his kind in a long time.  And my knight has an invisible masani ophanin familiar.  Does your bishop care to surrender?"

 

      "You're bluffing.  I killed your masani in the fourth turn.  Information for information, then.  What are you?"

 

      "I," said Darius, "am Darius.  And I had two masani."

 

      "You'll have none in a minute," Mystan retorted.  "You are not Lunatac.  Why did you join Tycho?"

 

      "I am a representative from an interested party.  I started as a spy and decided that working with Tycho would be better than working against him.  All this I've admitted to Tycho," Darius explained.  "By the way, your bishop takes fourteen points fire damage from the masani."

 

      Mystan decided he would get no more out of the shapechanger.  "My bishop summons a flight of meta lili lilin to deal with your masani.  I told you he was level six."

 

* * *

 

      Lacking anything better to do and wanting to be of some use, Chilla tracked down the base's head of security.  Which turned out to be a graviton woman with a nosering.  "You are Valkyrie?"  As far as Chilla could tell, the woman had no clan name.

 

      "Yep."  Swinging her feet off her desk, Valkyrie stood and extended her hand.  "You are?"

 

      "Chilla.  Chilla of the Clan Iespyk," she said, half-distracted.  Being used to Tug-Mug and his wheels, Chilla was caught off-guard by the security chief's height.  She was only about four-and-a-half feet tall, but that was almost a foot taller than Tug-Mug.

 

      After shaking hands, Valkyrie sat down again.  "Cheella.  So, what?  You want a job?"

 

      "I heard that the ice warriors were pretty much wiped out after the War of the Fallen.  I want to try to revive the order."  Chilla removed a glove - black now, to go with her uniform - to reveal the green spirals on her hand.  "I have the full training.  I can teach it."

 

      "And what good weell it do?  Already my staff have notheeng to do.  War ees all done een thee skies."

 

      Chilla had already asked herself the same thing.  "Mostly for morale," she admitted.  "It will keep your staff from getting bored, as well as give them extra training in the off-chance they would need it.  Of course, it would be open to everyone."

 

      The graviton woman nodded.  "I follow.  I know Tycho's plans to reunite thee Moons.  What good ees eet eef we cannot unite our own forces?"

 

      "Exactly.  Back when I learned the skills, it was near the only trade to treat male and female as equals.  Now if we can expand that philosophy to races as well...  And I know my half-brother will want to join.  That will keep him out of your hair."  What there was of it.  Chilla wondered if all gravitons thought mohawks were the way to go, or if their hair just naturally grew like that.

 

      "Knave."  The halfbreed had made himself an increasing nuisance in his time at the base.  Valkyrie got daily complaints about him, whether he actually did anything or not.

 

      "You are lucky I'm open-minded, Cheella, as well as seeck of thee eenfighteeng.  You have my full support."

 

* * *

 

      "Who's your friend?"  Frostarin looked up from where he was sitting on the hangar floor, his tools and miscellaneous ship parts around him.

 

      "Her name's Psikaris.  She's the Skytomb engineer.  Psikaris, this is Frostarin," Cameo said, making introductions.

 

      "Ah, yes.  Cameo's told me a bit about you."

 

      "I was one of Skytomb's engineers," Psikaris corrected.  "What seems to be the problem here?"

 

      "No real problem," Frostarin admitted.  "This is just boring old maintenance.  I'd put it off for a bit too long, so Darius is making me go over the entire thing as punishment.  You do this sort of thing for fun?"

 

      Psikaris shook her head and crouched down to inspect the parts on the floor.  "I'm still learning about the technology in this time.  It will only be fun until it's routine."

 

      Frostarin grinned.  "Sounds like my job.  Fighter pilot - sounds cool enough.  Then you find out that most of it is drills and ship maintenance."

 

      "Alluro tried to invent a system that did its own upkeep," she told him.

 

      "What happened?"

 

      "You still had to check on the dumb thing to make sure the maintenance program was still functioning."

 

      Frostarin laughed, then he and Psikaris got to work on checking the small ship's systems.  Normally Cameo found this sort of thing interesting, as he was always looking for ways to improve the Lunar Star.  However, this time he was a bit distracted.  Moon gods, but she has nice hands.  Delicate and smooth.  I wonder how she does it; most engineers have such rough...

 

      "Cameo?"

 

      He was pulled from his introspection by the owner of those hands talking to him.  "Sorry.  What were you saying?"

 

      Psikaris gave him a look of mild disapproval before repeating herself.  "I asked why your ship was so much different from everyone else's, even though you're just another fighter pilot."

 

      "Oh.  That."  Cameo switched his attention to the topic at hand.  "It's not a Lunatac ship.  It's from a race that calls itself the Solarians.  That's what my father was.  He was a traveller, I guess, who settled on the Ice Moon.  That's where he met my mother.  When the trouble started – that is, when the Dark Moon closed itself off from the Empire – all offworlders were suddenly treated as outcasts.  My parents decided to leave, but I wanted to stay.  I don't get much trouble because I look like an icewalker."  Cameo shrugged.  "He left the ship behind for me."

 

      "When did the Dark Moon turn unfriendly?"

 

      "About eight years ago," Frostarin supplied.  "No one knows why.  There was no warning, no demands, nothing.  The few darklings you see around here are the ones who happened to be here before the trouble.  The Moon won't even let them return."

 

      Cameo stepped in again.  "Tycho was planning to address the problem, but then Aristarchus barged in and messed things up.  Now we have to get the rest of the Moons united before we can try again."

 

      "Things are certainly stranger than when I left the Moons," Psikaris said.  Then back to business.  "I thought I saw a worn patch on your coolant line, Frostarin.  We should probably check that next."

 

* * *

 

      Onboard the Goliath, the massive starcruiser that Aristarchus used as his base of operations, a man walked invisibly.  Not that he was actually invisible, it was simply that no one saw him.  And he found the current political situation most interesting.  Indeed, perhaps even a little threatening.  His original plan was to go back to Tycho's fortress; it was Tycho he had a score to settle with, after all.  That had changed when he saw Luna's guardian.

 

      That the thing had known he was there, he was sure.  He had been in Aristarchus' office during his meeting with Luna and her advisor, and none of those had known of his presence.  But the guardian had.  So he stood by Aristarchus, nodding occasionally, playing the part of the agreeable aide.  Apparently his ruse worked, for the guardian did not alert the others.

 

      He walked into the room he had claimed as his own; if any noticed the door open and close, they dismissed it as unimportant.  Settling himself on the edge of his bed, away from prying eyes, he let his cloak drop.  What now could be seen and remembered was a tall, sandweller man in light brown desert clothing, with pale gray skin and long, darker hair.  And any who remembered how Tycho ascended the Lunar Throne almost three years ago would not know him.

 

* * *

 

      "You deal with engines more than I do.  How feasible does this look to you?" Alluro asked, handing several sheets worth of handwritten notes and detailed sketches to Psychro.  Psychro was hanging around the lab mostly from lack of anything better to do.

 

      The ice hybrid flipped through the pages.  "It looks okay from here.  I'd get 'Karis or Red-Eye to check the math, though.  Just in case you slipped somewhere."

 

      "The Great Alluro never slips," the hypnotist replied.  Actually, he was absolutely certain of his design.  He only asked for a proof-read because it was less likely to get him hit than, 'Gaze in wonder upon my brilliance.'  "Normally you'd need thundrillium if you wanted to power a megacondenser.  With these modifications to the device, stabilised dyskoenium works.  Not as well, of course.  The range is much less."

 

      "Uh-huh," Psychro agreed absently.  "Looks like this will only work on the smaller craft."

 

      "I know that.  Bigger ships need more power.  They can supply it, but the megacondenser would have to be redesigned again to handle the increased flow," Alluro said patiently.  "We wouldn't have these problems if we could use thundrillium."

 

      Psychro nodded again, then paused on one of the pages.  "You forgot to carry the two here."

 

      The hypnotist was on his feet in seconds.  "What?  Let me see..." he said, snatching the pages away.  "I did not.  See?  It's accurate."

 

      The ice hybrid smirked.  "Just keeping you on your toes."

 

* * *

 

      "Chilla, good to see you.  Might I say I like the outfit?"

 

      Chilla tried to scowl at Alluro, but was too tired.  The outfit in question was designed for freedom of movement, and also showed off most of her tattoos.  Since the green ice warrior marks covered her back, legs, and forearms, it was a tad revealing.  "It was Valkyrie's idea," she explained.  "Something about showing off my status."

 

      Among other things.  Not that I'm complaining.  "How went the class?"

 

      "Fairly well.  Mostly it was the security staff.  A bit lax in their discipline, but a few... examples set them straight."  Chilla didn't really have the patience to teach, but since she might be the only one left with the skills, she forced herself to do it.

 

      Alluro smiled.  "Wonderful.  I was wondering, Chilla, if you would have dinner with me tonight.  We've hardly seen one another for..."

 

      She cut him off with a tired wave.  "For once I don't have to invent an excuse.  Red-Eye and myself are going to be trying to get a few of the other darklings to join the class."

 

      "Red-Eye has decided to take up ice warrioring?" Alluro asked, raising an eyebrow.  He briefly considered doing so himself, if it meant seeing Chilla in that outfit, but decided against it.  He was not fond of pain.

 

      "No, but he thinks it would be good if the various groups could meet informally once in a while to break down the distrust."  She smiled then, flashing pointed teeth.  "And since they would all have a common antagonist - namely their teacher - it might speed things up."

 

      The hypnotist sighed.  "A worthy cause."

 

      "Anyway, I need to take a shower and get changed.  I wouldn't want to scare away any potential students."  With that, she left.

 

      Alluro thought she might get more people in the class if they advertised what Chilla wore, but didn't say anything.  Instead he wandered down to the mess hall.

 

      To his surprise, Mystan and Darius were still there, playing that game.  Alluro had last been in the mess hall at noon, but was preoccupied and hadn't checked to see what the two were up to.  Now that it was a good seven hours later, the hypnotist's curiosity was piqued.  He walked over to the table and asked what they were doing.

 

      Mystan looked up from the board.  "Demon chess.  Lord Yerith taught it to me soon after I was hired."

 

      "It doesn't look like chess."

 

      "It isn't.  I didn't name it," Mystan replied with a shrug.

 

      "And you've been doing this all afternoon?"

 

      "All day," Darius corrected him.  "Tycho and Luna are plotting, so we decided we had to keep ourselves occupied somehow."  He paused, then said, "You're supposed to be fairly smart.  Care to learn the game?"

 

      Alluro looked over the oversized checkerboard with other, likely moveable cubes stacked around to give the impression of hilly terrain.  Two tables had to be pushed together to hold it up.  Other small obstacles had been placed on the board, including a fork, which a rook was pinned under.  Both Mystan and Darius had small notebooks, apparently keeping track of their pieces... and since when did chess pieces have hit points?  "I'll pass.  What's going on?"

 

      "We decided to go with a classical theme," Darius explained.  "Demon lord against demon lord.  Of course, pretty much anything is allowed.  I was thinking of doing Ice Moon predators next time.  Right now I'm playing the Geiehphaleg's ophanin."

 

      "And I," said Mystan with a twinge of an ironic smile, "am playing the Lilith's lilin.  I am also winning."

 

      "Only for now.  Besides, I've a flight of keire still in reserve."

 

      "Fah, keire.  My knight alone could handle them."

 

      "Alluro!  Oh, good, I was hoping to talk to you."

 

      Leaving Mystan and Darius to their game, Alluro turned at the sound of the call.  "Psikaris."

 

      "How are the megacondenser modifications going?"

 

      "Very well.  I have a design that works on smaller ships.  The larger ones will take more work."

 

      Psikaris clapped her hand together.  "Wonderful...  I don't suppose you have the blueprints here."

 

      "No, but I can give you an overview," he said, sitting down at a table and motioning for her to join him.  That was the main thing he liked about Psikaris - he could talk tech without needing to dumb it down.

 

* * *

 

      "She wants to attack."  Tycho's voice was emotionless, though Darius knew better.  It was late evening, and Darius had returned to his quarters after losing the game to Mystan, and was soon after joined by Tycho.

 

      "Didn't you try to talk her out of it?"

 

      Tycho glared at his second.  "Of course I did, but she sees no other way around it.  The only other ways to gain the Lunar Throne are by birth or by marriage."

 

      "There is single combat," Darius reminded him.  "Remember how you took over the title."

 

      "Fah.  Luntalus was a charlatan.  The Blade didn't even cry over his death," Tycho said.  "And even though Luna has some of her grandfather's mageskill, she is untrained.  Aristarchus could defeat her easily."

 

      Darius thought a moment.  "Single combat would give us a chance to show her off, as well as prove she has Lord Yerith's power.  She is the legitimate heir, people would support her."

 

      "Not if she lost."  Tycho sighed and set the Lunar Blade on the table.  The Blade was one of the reasons he hated war.  It was tied somehow to the Moons and their people, and the echoes of death rang through it.  Normally it wasn't strong enough for Tycho to even notice; people died every day.  But during war, when casualties were high, the weapon would scream in his mind.  Needless to say, he wasn't too fond of it.

 

      The Lunar Blade had other abilities.  For one, it helped Tycho fight.  He had taken a few lessons in swordfighting, but they never stuck.  With the Lunar Blade in his hands he was a decent, if graceless, swordsman.

 

      He found that if he focused on a person, sometimes he could feel their emotions and see their thoughts.

 

      Sometimes it could zap things.

 

      The Blade refused to zap Lunatacs, though.  All of its powers seemed to be very Lunatac-specific.  Tycho had tried a few times out of curiosity to try the mind-reading trick on Darius, but it never worked.  All he ever got was a sense of warm green.

 

      The shapechanger spoke again.  "What if something... happened to Aristarchus?"

 

      Tycho mulled that one over.  "One, I'm not sure if that's possible.  Aristarchus is paranoid and careful.  Two, it would be traced back here eventually.  The Lunatacs are a warrior race; they don't take kindly to daggers in the dark.  No, we must oppose him openly.  It's the only way to keep the respect of the people."

 

* * *

 

      "You're here early."

 

      "So are you," retorted Psikaris.  "I'm doing a few last minute checks.  What's your excuse?"

 

      Cameo smiled.  "Just excited, I guess."  During the last few days, Psikaris had been working on the modifications of a PM-247, a small ship designed for a crew of one to five.  Alluro had been altering a megacondenser to run on dyskoenium.  Yesterday the two components were put together, and today they were going to test it.

 

      Psychro chose that moment to wander in.  "So you really think this little deathtrap's going to work?"

 

      "Rattletrap," Psikaris corrected.  "I named the ship Rattletrap.  And of course it will work.  The Skytomb worked, didn't it?"

 

      "Sure it did, but you're trusting Mr Alluro 'Telepathy Beam' Katalaepsy with the megacondenser modifications," Psychro said unenthusiastically.

 

      "In his defence, the telepathy beam worked.  It just had unforeseen consequences," she reminded him.

 

      Psychro sighed.  "I just don't like letting you put yourself in danger."

 

      She walked over to her brother and laid a hand on his arm.  "I'll be fine.  Besides, if something unexpected comes up, I'm the one that knows how to fix it."

 

      "Why not Alluro?"

 

      "Because he hasn't had time to adjust to the new ship technology."

 

      "Why not one of Tycho's engineers?"

 

      "Because they wouldn't know what to do with the megacondenser."

 

      It looked like Psychro was about to come up with another objection, but Cameo cut him off.  "I'll take care of her.  I promise.  Don't worry."

 

      If Psikaris caught the conviction in Cameo's voice, she made no sign.  Psychro noticed it and narrowed his eyes at the icewalker before turning back to his sister.  "Him?  'Karis, I thought Knave was your usual test pilot."

 

      "He is, but he's busy helping Chilla with her classes," said Psikaris.  "Cameo volunteered.  Before you ask, yes I did check his service record.  He's quite good."

 

      That wasn't the first question that came to Psychro's mind, but Cameo spoke again.  "Also, Knave wouldn't be familiar with the ship.  And while this isn't my usual class of craft, I've been helping 'Karis with her adjustments."

 

      Psychro scowled at Cameo's use of the familiar of Psikaris' name.  He was usually the only one to refer to her as ''Karis', though Knave sometimes did if he was in a good mood.  Psychro didn't mind that, though; Psikaris and Knave had known each other for years.  Cameo had only entered the picture a couple of weeks ago.

 

      "We just need to wait for Alluro," Psikaris said, noticing her brother's sudden tension and trying to smooth things over.

 

      "Wait no longer, at least not for my arrival," announced Alluro as he walked in.  "I want to double check the power relays before letting this thing go anywhere."

 

      After about ten minutes, Alluro announced that at least his part of the work was done to perfection.  Psychro caught his sister by the arm before she could duck into the ship.  "You're sure about this?"

 

      Psikaris smiled at him.  "I'm sure."  She patted him on the arm again before following Cameo onto the small ship.

 

      "All the controls check out," Cameo reported.

 

      "Excellent.  Whenever you're ready..."

 

      The hangar doors finished opening.  "That would be now."  The Rattletrap launched itself out of Tycho's mountain base, and into the sky.  Once they were safely out of the atmosphere of the Ice Moon, Cameo asked, "Where to?"

 

      Psikaris walked over to a set of monitors, then calculated a course that would take them away from the Moons.  "Try 000-180-045 at 1.25-SoL," she said, returning to her seat.

 

      "Fasten your seatbelt, then," Cameo advised.  "And... we're off!"

 

      The feel of faster-than-light travel in the little Rattletrap was much different than Skytomb.  For one thing, the Skytomb felt much sturdier.  After about ten minutes, Cameo slowed the ship to a stop.  Psikaris got up to check the computer again.  "Well?" he asked, peering over her shoulder.

 

      "One-point-two-five-three-one-four," she read, her smile brightening with every number.

 

      "We did it!" Cameo cheered, sweeping Psikaris off her feet and into an impromptu victory dance.

 

      After a few minutes, he still hadn't let go.  "Um, Cameo?.."

 

      The icewalker sighed.  "Do I have to let go?  You're so beautiful and clever and I enjoy being with you so much...  I think I love you, 'Karis."

 

      "I... I don't know what to say..."  Mentally she yelled at herself, partly for the lame answer and partly because she should have noticed Cameo's interest earlier.  Why else would Psychro be in full over-protective mode whenever he was around?  Psikaris just thought of the icewalker as a dear friend; besides, she still loved Alluro.  But Alluro made his lack of interest amply clear, whereas Cameo had just proclaimed his love for her.  Actually, it would have explained quite a lot...

 

      The intercom activated: "'Karis, what happened?  Where the hells are you?  Report!"

 

      Psikaris broke away from Cameo to turn on the communicator.  "Not in hell at least, so you don't need to shout so," Psikaris chided her brother.  "Tell Alluro it worked."

 

      There was a victory whoop in the background before Psychro replied.  "He heard.  Okay, the thing works, come on back."

 

      "Will do.  Psikaris out."

 

      Cameo was somewhat disappointed at Psikaris' hasty agreement to go back, but reminded himself that he probably blew his chances with her already anyway.  The Rattletrap was too small, too confined for a declaration such as his to be anything but threatening.  But the moment had felt so... right, and once back in Tycho's base he'd never have another minute alone with her.  There was always someone around, be it Psychro or Alluro or Frostarin or any random engineer.  Nothing for it but to go back, then.  "You want I should just re-trace our course?"

 

      "Hmm?  Oh, yes.  That would be fine."

 

      The pilot mentally kicked himself again as he set in the co-ordinates.  Idiot.  I've scared her off.  Why didn't I wait?..  What's this?  "Psikaris," he started, carefully using her full name, "I've got a warning light flashing up here.  Did Alluro screw up, or..."

 

      "No, it has nothing to do with our ship.  We've got something closing in fast," Psikaris reported.  "Here, I'll put it on your monitor."

 

      What appeared was a sizeable ship, large, but not without its grace.  "A graviton ship," Cameo hissed.  "Part of Aristarchus' fleet.  If they're closing in it means they know who we are.  If they know who we are, they'll know we'll be headed back to the Ice Moon."

 

      "We can outrun them easily," Psikaris said.

 

      "Not on our way back into the system.  We don't want to hit New Thundera or our Moons," Cameo reminded her.  "Damn, we'll have to take a longer way in... the Fourth Moon is fairly close to the Second right now," he explained, already setting in the course.  "We could loop around that, then enter the Ice Moon's atmosphere in the southern hemisphere.  We'll have to keep to planetary speeds, but we'll be safe once we get to our Moon.  Aristarchus wouldn't want to risk a major battle."  At least, he hasn't yet.

 

      The Rattletrap shot back into the New Thundera system.  Everything went perfectly, except that a smaller ship, this one of Third Moon design, was waiting in the shadow of the Desert Moon.  "A trap?" asked Psikaris.

 

      "More like bad luck," Cameo replied.  "They couldn't have had time to plan an ambush."  The Rattletrap rocked as the other ship fired at it.  "Quick, shut off everything but the bare minimum needed, but be ready to turn it back on."  The weapons on PM series ships were so small as to be perfunctory.  If he wanted to cause any damage, Cameo would need the other ship very close.

 

      The intercom crackled, and a voice came through.  "You have been captured, small ice ship.  Prepare to be towed."

 

      The larger ship drew nearer.  "Now, 'Karis!"  The tiny lasers on the Rattletrap lashed out, taking out the tractor-beam generator.  Another shot crippled the engines.

 

      By now, the other ship had realized the deception, and fired again.  A console exploded, starting a small fire, which Psikaris quickly put out with her ice breath.  "I don't think we can take another hit like that."

 

      "I don't intend to.  I'm going to fly low.  Hopefully they won't risk shooting and hitting the Moon.  They can't follow us, at least," said Cameo, putting his plan into action.

 

      However, the Third Moon ship decided to fire again anyway.  "The port stabilizer's gone," Psikaris reported, slightly panicked.

 

      "And the steering is fused."

 

      "What?"

 

      "I can slow us a bit, but we're going to crash!"

 

      To be continued...

 

 

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