Their own weapons were quickly exhausted and they had to rely on lasers and rifles captured from the enemy. Both of them had minor burns and bullet grazes in half a dozen places, their faces were blackened, their clothes frayed. Draibo cracked a bone in his right wrist diving for cover and after that had to shoot left-handed.
They kept on, although it was impossible to know how the rest of the battle was going. Dark Warrior's own heavy weapons were in action, for they could feel and hear them. She was also taking hits from the Kananite and Menel ships, heavy enough to jolt even her huge mass.
The lights, ventilation, and elevators were still running, so the life support and internal power systems hadn't taken any vital damage. The public address system was also still alive, but the few announcements coming over it were either uninformative or completely incoherent. The situation aboard Dark Warrior was simply developing too fast for her surviving officers to keep track of it.
At last the public address system went off the air in a chorus of screams, explosions, and static. It never came back on. Minutes later Blade and Draibo, more blackened and battered than ever, burst into the fire control room for Laser Bank Seven.
The five men there were professionals. Blade had to give them credit for that. They were still shooting accurately as Blade and Draibo entered, even though four of their six laser tubes were out of action. Even with bullets whistling about their ears the two men at the main control panel still managed to put a beam into a Menel patrol ship. It limped off, trailing smoke, then blazed up like a miniature nova and became a cloud of bluish gas.
By the time the explosion died, the five men of Bank Seven were all down, sprawled on the bloody decks or slumped over their controls heads smashed in by Blade's rifle butt. Draibo was also down, with half a dozen slugs in his belly. He was smiling, because he knew they'd won and also because he knew he'd be dead before the shock wore off and his wounds started hurting. Blade propped him up so he could see the undamaged screen. For a minute or two they both watched the battle in space around Dark Warrior.
By now it must have been going on for hours, but it was still as savage as ever. It was impossible to tell who was winning the ship-to-ship combat. Dark Warrior's escorts had the edge in firepower but they were outnumbered three or four to one. Blade stepped up the magnification on the screen, hoping to see more than darting specks and lines of fire.
A familiar streamlined wedge shape drifted into view-Trenbar, closely engaged with a Targan ship. Trenbar seemed to be half-crippled, maneuvering slowly and erratically as the enemy closed. The Targans were pouring laser fire into what they thought was a nearly helpless target when Trenbar suddenly came to life again. Whipping around in a high-g turn, she plunged straight at the enemy. A laser scored her side and peeled away a chunk of armor but didn't turn her aside. The two ships merged, then both were blotted out in an expanding ball of purple flame.
Before Blade's eyes recovered from the glare, he heard a sharp metallic whannnngggg and the floor quivered under his feet. Several more impact noises came in the next few seconds, followed by the unmistakable hiss of escaping air. Blade realized what was happening. Trenbar had fought her last battle so close to Dark Warrior that fragments from the explosion were hitting the starship like meteors, tearing through even her hull. It was time to be moving on again.
Draibo was dead, a smile fading from his bloody lips. Blade saluted him, then saluted the screen where the gas cloud was vanishing. Then he twisted the power setting on the remaining lasers to OVERLOAD and switched them on. When the explosion came, that would be the end of Laser Bank Seven and every Targan within fifty feet of it.
The air in the room was definitely getting thin, and Blade could see smoke creeping toward one section of wall. Nothing more to do here. He ran out, closing the door behind him and fusing the lock with a laser burst. Even out in the corridor the air was thinner and the light was dimmer. Time to head for Bay Two if he didn't want to risk being trapped aboard a dying ship.
Blade took a deep breath, then broke into a run.
Blade ran along Dark Warrior's corridors and down her stairs and ladders as he'd seldom run before in his life. He saw a few Targans but half of them were dead or dying and he went past the rest so fast they had no time to fire. Most of the great ship seemed to be deserted. Was the crew dead, preoccupied with damage control, or abandoning ship? Blade didn't know. Certainly the ship herself was dying, and Blade knew he was in a race with time to keep from dying with her.
Laser Bank Seven exploded, knocking Blade off his feet. Ignoring new bruises he picked himself up and ran on. The main lighting went out, but the emergency lighting came on, leaving the corridors in a sinister twilight. The elevators went out and so did the power for opening the doors. Blade had to open each one manually, releasing latches and twisting wheels with blistered, sweating hands. He didn't bother closing doors behind him anymore, even though escaping air was now making a noticeable draft everywhere. He didn't have the time to be neat, and in any case the more air that leaked out the better. Even if Dark Warrior couldn't be destroyed outright, she could still be reduced to an airless hulk.
Blade reached the entrance to Bay Two just as the ship's internal gravity field died. The door stood open and several bodies lay on the deck around it. Most were ship's crew, but Blade recognized two of the boarding party. As the gravity went off, the bodies floated up from the deck. Blade brushed past him and pulled himself through the door.
A hundred feet away an undamaged shuttle M 675 was floating just clear of the deck. She was turning slowly as the pilot used the altitude control jets to line her up with the outer hatch. Blade fired a burst from his rifle to attract attention, then threw his rifle away and launched himself across the bay like a slow-motion rocket.
They saw him coming. The belly hatch slid open and a weighted line shot out toward him. Blade twisted in midair, caught the line with his fingertips, and held on by sheer willpower until it pulled him to a stop. Then he took a more secure grip and let himself be drawn inside the shuttle.
The hatch slammed shut so fast Blade barely got his feet out of the way in time. Riyannah kissed him, then shoved a face-covering mask with an oxygen bottle attached at him.
«We're going to have to ram through the outer hatch,» she shouted. «Put this on, quick!» Blade pulled on the mask and shot up the ladder to the main cabin on Riyannah's heels.
There was only one pilot at the controls now and only twelve of the boarding party in their seats. Some of them were wounded and all of them were as ragged and dirty as Blade himself, but all of them cheered wildly as he appeared.
The pilot shoved his mask up and looked at Blade. «I was all ready to assume you were dead,» he said, grinning. «But she threatened to blow my head off if I left before you appeared and the others agreed with her. So what could I do?» The grin faded. «Get to a couch and hang on. We're going to have to go right through the outer doors and it's going to be rough.» He turned back to the controls, pulling his mask on as Blade dove for the nearest couch.
He'd barely got himself strapped in when the pilot cut in the shuttle's own drive. With the drive wide open the shuttle could accelerate to several hundred miles an hour inside Bay Two, and also flatten everyone aboard into their couches. Blade felt as if a whole family of elephants was sitting on his chest. Then a horrible screech of tearing metal half-deafened him. He was jolted and jerked about as if one of the elephants had picked him up in its trunk and tossed him high in the air. More metal screeched, the canopy cracked in half a dozen places, and then there was space and stars ahead.