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169. The Flight of the Fortitude


The Fortitude’s mammoth engines roared demonically as the starship rocketed through Kollian’s collapsing atmosphere. The square-nosed vessel smashed through debris as it raced to escape the Queil blockade. Ahead, the Denier’s vast magnetised field wings framed a narrowing sliver of open sky.

“Go, go, go!” Challe screamed frantically from the helm, his suave persona gone. “Everything up to eleven! We cannot miss that window.”

Against the odds, the Fortitude mustered extra speed, propulsion systems squealing as the hull creaked under stress. The starship gave an almost animalistic shudder as the shield wings passed overhead and brushed the nullifier field, but they did not stop or slow. A heartbeat later, they had left the atmosphere behind.

Challe clenched his fists, knowing it wasn’t over. “Shields to starboard,” he commanded. “Plot a route to the safehouse, quickly!”

The light of missile emplacements firing flashed across the Denier’s port side. Challe’s breath caught in his throat as the projectiles closed the distance to the Fortitude in seconds, but true to the vessel’s design, a rumble of turbulence was the only consequence as the nullifier field stopped every single missile in its tracks. In seconds, the ship had left its pursuers’ range, and Challe finally released a heavy sigh. He’d wager he wasn’t the only one.

FTL jump ready,” announced a voice from among the bridge crew.

“Let’s get outta here,” Challe confirmed, his voice suddenly hoarse.

In a blink, the Fortitude disappeared into space, leaving behind the Queil fleet and Kollian, still burning.

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