Detecting the lock was relatively straightforward, though the maximum range was generally rated in meters at most. That meant that the only way they were going to detect an attempt to lock the shuttle into place was if the system had already pinpointed their position. Milla killed most of the radio intercept channels, narrowing the band to the electromagnetic frequencies a lock would affect, and then set a warning tone to go off if anything tripped the system.

“There,” she said, closing the settings. “That should do it.”

Steph glanced over. “That was fast. You’re sure?”

“No,” she answered, laughing a little nervously. “However, we will soon know.”

Steph looked at her evenly for a moment, then grinned widely. “Now you’re getting into the spirit of things. Let’s fly.”

►►►

PC Parasite Five

► “That pilot is a lunatic,” Penae growled as collision alarms sounded across the command deck.

Parasite Three was passing only a half beam away from them, almost within the margin of error for manual control and certainly too close for ships this deep in a stormy atmosphere. Still, he believed they weren’t going to collide, so he turned his focus back to the craft they were chasing.

“Yes, Subaltern,” Penae’s own pilot agreed, his face pale and clammy.

“At least we know that the fool doesn’t have any weapons.” Penae forced a chuckle, trying to remain as calm as possible for his men’s benefit almost as much as his own.

“How are you sure, Subaltern?” his second asked, confused.

“Because if they’d been armed, we’d likely be venting smoke by now.” Penae sighed, shaking his head. “He caught us flat. That’s a fast little prick.”

He looked over to where the pilot was finishing up clearing their beams, noting that they were no longer at risk of slamming into parasite Three.

“Enter pursuit course, maximum atmospheric thrust!” he ordered.

Parasite Five tipped its nose up, and a shock wave erupted as the frigate began to climb hard after the fleeing ship. Under full thrust, the frigate should start to gain on the much-faster accelerating craft shortly, but there was going to be a period of time before the range could be closed again, and quantum locking was not a particularly long-ranged tool.

“Prime the guns,” Penae said. “Solve for the fleeing craft; fire as the numbers say.”

“Guns priming. Permission to clear the safeties?” Penae’s weapons commander asked.

“Granted.”

He’d have preferred to take the small ship intact, for the intelligence asset it presented if nothing else, but his orders from the captain left Penae more than enough room to eliminate the craft if they were at risk of letting it go.

Pity. You seem like you might have made an interesting acquaintance.

►►►

Shuttle Eagle One