The pirate Falcon fired again, spearing Papa-Five with precision laser fire. Clay had to admit that the pilot was good. Damn good. Papa-Five was Leo’s ship, and Leo was a fine pilot. Despite that, Papa-Five was soon going to be nothing but a pile of mangled components. She shuddered under another heavy blast.
“Hang in there, Leo,” Clay shouted over the comm channel. “I’m almost there.”
“About bloody time!” Leo replied.
Alarms sounded as Clay disabled life support, routing the extra power into the thrusters. He killed the alarms. His suit could keep him alive for a couple of hours if needed. That was far longer than Leo had left.
The Falcon swung round for another attack. Leo already had his ship twisting aside as the Falcon unleashed another deadly volley. It helped, but it
