Metal Warrior: Steel Trap (Mech Fighter Book 3) by James David Victor

Author:James David Victor [Victor, James David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fairfield Publishing
Published: 2020-12-14T16:00:00+00:00

The words scrolled across the top of his HUD. He hadn’t even realized that their suits were linked up to the Gladius’s servers.

>Enemy Weapons Systems Detected . . . Enemy Locked On . . .

“Incoming!” Corsoni shouted, as Dane’s attention snapped to the reinforced cockpit crystal glass ahead of them. The dream of the Earth was gone, and Dane saw the smaller, ghostly orb of the Moon ahead. It was dotted with pinpricks of flaring light, which were growing larger and larger and leaving the orb of Earth’s sister. Flaring purple stars, gleaming and crackling, were coming straight towards them.

“Joey? What is it?” Dane said.

The engineer-now-pilot’s face was a grimace behind his own shadowed face-plate suit. “They’re firing. I don’t know what it is, missiles or pulse blasts or . . . Frack!” He swore suddenly as the rising stars grew much larger and closer than Dane would have thought possible. He saw the glint of metal at their hearts. Suddenly, they were being thrown to one side as Corsoni dragged down one of the flight handles and threw them into a curve.

The Moon and its deadly missives wheeled away across the cockpit, and they were charging at the speckled night of stars, but the tactical radar map activated on Dane’s HUD. He saw that there were three red vectors racing across the night, one of them apparently holding a straighter course and shooting out past them, the other two curving after their burn.

“Missiles!” Dane hissed. He wished that he knew more—or anything—about flight tactics.

“We got a mean turn—” Corsoni was saying. He was grunting with the effort to drag the Gladius into a downward spin, once again bringing the orb of the Moon (much bigger in their windows now) dragging across the top of their view in a diagonal. One of the missiles was turning upwards, heading in a wild curve above them, while the other was attempting to curve downwards . . .

“Problem is,” Corsoni spoke in a tight mutter as he quickly flicked a couple of the switches on the board, “no one’s ever written a manual on interstellar dogfighting.” He wrenched at both flight handles, and Dane and the others were suddenly pushed back into their seats with the punch of accelerating g-force as Corsoni attempted to swoop them out of their dive.

“You’re gonna be the one to write it,” Dane said grimly, hanging onto the armrest and praying, fervently, that what he said was going to be true . . .

The Moon ahead of them swung once again, quickly and crazily, straight into their view. She eclipsed their entire cockpit window until there was no space left to see, just white and gray, rock and dust and mountain, growing larger and larger with every heartbeat.

>Evasion successful . . .

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