Lawrence pushed the abilities of his K?mpfer in extremis; his mere mortal body even more so. His body remained numbed from the overwhelming g-forces he inflicted upon himself and at times he was unsure if he still gripped the dual joysticks. Each liftoff, every jump, was a skull-rattling moment of blanketed whiteness. The sheer tremors from landing on an asteroid or the graveyard of Imperium debris spurred him out of the never-ending gauntlet he put himself through. That and the constant whines and creaks of his mobile trooper rang uncontrollably in his ears.

  His radar remained a curtain of enemy signatures. Laz shots, missiles, and neutron bombs ensured he couldn't afford a moment's rest. Friederika and Boris were too far behind to even register visually anymore, and Victoria still had a head start on him. He had no idea how to shorten the gap.

  Any moment now, he expected the field prototype mobile trooper to simply break down from sheer abuse, but this genius work of art was kept operational by his hopes and willpower alone. If anything, it could provide valuable trooper data for the engineers if he ever gets this bucket back in one piece. . . or at least its black box.

  It reached a point where he knew he couldn't leapfrog like this forever. The durable K?mpfer was something else, but his energy was being poured into a mental kitchen sink. And if he waited even one more second between jumps, the enemy's missile massacre would obliterate him. He had to take flight; it'd be easier to avoid obstacles that way.

  "Let's see if your lousy tin cans can keep up," Lawrence said, a smirk from ear to ear. He reached, perhaps hesitantly, for the accelerator lever and yanked it down with such force he almost believed it was going to snap straight off. The moment he cranked it up to eleven, the massive g-forces practically flattened him into his cushion seat once more. A packet of blood splashed his visor, but he couldn't even reach to wipe it off.

  The cockpit quaked with the strongest force yet—then the system failed for a brief moment. One piece of it became loose and Lawrence feared for his life—but he couldn't even duck.

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  He was lucky: the projectible panel piece flew past him. The thunderous crash overwhelmed his senses momentarily, but at least the impact did the trick of bringing his sensors back online. Yet he couldn't help but worry about the loose piece now; depending on his maneuvers, it could so much as impale him or something equally life-threatening. He couldn't reach back to grab it presently: the incredible force meant he couldn't so much as move a muscle. The ever-shifting battleground was a blur and all he could feasibly do now is move his right wrist to navigate through the asteroid maze. The enemy fire was the least of his worries for now.

  But even those stopped, his radar drained of color the longer his sprint lasted. It was by no means over, but he appeared to have gotten through the worst of the Zeta fleet assault. If there ever was such a concept as Lady Luck, he sure cashed in.

  Weakly and slowly, fighting the invisible steel weights of g-forces itself, he reached for the accelerator handle—but slipped. It barely slipped his grasp. With one hand still on the steering joystick, he breathed in heavily. His chest, his body, it all screamed in agony. Fear swelled in that the next time he blacked out it would be his last if he couldn't react in time.

  He cut loose the air and grunted. He fought with every fiber of his being this time; he stretched out his left hand as humanly as possible and maybe even beyond that. And finally, his gloved fingers touched the top of the lever. He grunted again, aggressively, and lurched forward: his fingers hooked it and he brought the instrument of his undoing down as the g-forces forced him back.

  There was an asteroid straight ahead of him. He couldn't divert course fast enough.

  Lawrence quickly inputted buttons to slow down safely and without turning instatnounsely to meat paste. But even then, he feared for the worst; he wasn't going to deaccelerate fast enough.

  Just before imminent impact, Lawrence reached over his chair to press a button to activate the emergency airbag. Using the liberty pod now was just too risky and could warrant capture . . . or something worse.

  Lawrence closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He braced for the worst.

  Spraks erupted from the console; then the shock balloon sprang out and cushioned him.