This isn't going to work, Jeridan thought as he flew an unforgivably primitive shuttle high over the landscape, heading for Eridanus Delta's lone spaceport.

There were several reasons for Jeridan's bleak assessment, despite their having fast-talked their way into implementing Negasi's plan.

Firstly, the spaceport was under siege by rebel forces, who had an antiaircraft battery that was shooting down any aircraft that tried to come and relieve it. Royal ground forces were trying to lift the siege but had so far failed.

Secondly, the king's limited air force was evenly split between loyalists and rebels and the two sides had all but wiped each other out, leaving only three warplanes to strafe the rebel position and take out the antiaircraft battery. All three had been shot down.

Thirdly, no spacecraft were coming to help them. While the Royal Navy had remained loyal (at least according to the four soldiers crammed in the shuttle's back seat all aiming guns at them), the king feared the rebellion was a planned distraction from an invasion that was sure to come from one of the hostile planets in the Eridanus system and therefore none had been authorized to take on air-to-ground missions.

Fourthly—and Jeridan wasn't sure fourthly was a word—that cheap-ass medical care they had received from the army hadn't taken away his concussion. He had a splitting headache, slow reactions, and double vision.

At least the anti-burn cream made his skin feel all cool and tingly. Or maybe that was poor circulation thanks to his concussion. He wasn't sure.

The readout on the control panel showed they were getting close, or at least that's what Jeridan thought it said. He had a hard time reading the controls with his vision all messed up. He'd been flying by feel most of the way.

But he didn't trust this mission to any other pilot. He was the best pilot in the Orion Arm, even though the concussion was cramping his style. While Negasi wasn't bad at the helm, Jeridan needed the guy on the twin slug throwers fixed to the front of the shuttle. They would need them in a minute.

Right now, Negasi was on the comm system with their ship. The S'ouzz was still on the Antikythera and was aware they were coming back.

It wouldn't help, though. The alien absolutely refused to fight.

Fair enough. It must be nice to live like that. Jeridan and Negasi didn't have that luxury.

Jeridan took the shuttlecraft up on a steep ascending angle and pierced through the clouds. He leveled off and came directly above the spaceport. He circled, preparing to dive.

"Hold on, folks."

"Hold on to what?" one of the soldiers asked. "We're strapped in."

"It's more of an expression," Jeridan said.

"Oh. I've never been on a shuttle before."

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Jeridan glanced over his shoulder and winced. Turning his head made his neck hurt.

"Have you ever flown before?"

"None of us have."

"I have," one said proudly. "I got to fly on a troop transport for maneuvers."

His buddy looked at him with open admiration. "One of those big airplanes? Wow!"

Airplanes. How quaint.

"Anyway," Jeridan said. "I'm going to tuck into a dive and get down to the spaceport as quick as possible. It's going to be a tough maneuver and you might feel a bit queasy. Don't panic. It won't last long. Oh, and take your fingers off your triggers."

"Why?"

"Because if you accidentally shoot me in the back of the head, I might have trouble landing."

"Oh."

Jeridan suffered another throb of agony to look over his shoulder again to make sure they did as he asked. These guys were literally a pain in the neck.

"Here we go."

He put the shuttle nose down and hit the rear thrusters, shooting down through the clouds. The spaceport appeared below, a small patch of gray concrete and similarly colored buildings surrounded by green fields.

The g-force from the dive shoved his stomach into his spine and made his head swim. Hs vision blurred even more. A gagging sound came from the back seat, following by anguished cries. The familiar sound of an inexperienced passenger throwing up on a bunch of other passengers.

It usually caused a ripple effect. Just as he expected, he heard another guttural sound of a man's stomach turning inside out, followed by more anguished cries.

That should have cheered him up except for two things.

Firstly, the smell. It nearly overwhelmed him and threatened to make him imitate his less-experienced crewmates.

Secondly, the g-force was making his head throb and his vision had become so blurred he wasn't sure he could steer.

"Incoming!" Negasi shouted.

Thirdly, the rebel antiaircraft battery had gotten into the game.

Why all this counting? Has my concussion made me obsessive compulsive?

Jeridan took evasive maneuvers, kind of tricky when you couldn't see what you were evading.

"Port fifteen degrees!" Negasi shouted. "Now starboard ten degrees!"

Negasi kept shouting out instructions and Jeridan followed them as well as he could. Good old Negasi, always finding flaws in everything he did. Normally that was annoying. Right now, it might be lifesaving.

Another soldier puked.

"Please stop that. It's making it hard for me to fly."

"You should pull up now," Negasi said.

"In how many seconds? I need an exact—"

"PULL UP RIGHT NOW!!!!"

Jeridan pulled up. Through the blurry haze of his vision he saw vague shapes far too close, and a streak of red passing by right in front of him. He ascended, hitting the thrusters …

… and the sudden change of forces was too much for his stomach.

He turned his head to the left to avoid puking on his gunner.

Instead, the acceleration took it straight over his shoulder and into the soldiers lined up behind him.

Ears ringing with cries of disgust and despair, Jeridan zigzagged the shuttle as more vague streaks of red zipped past him. Jeridan presumed that was enemy fire rather than the lights from one of the spaceport's buildings or radio tower.

At least no one was telling him otherwise. They were too busy losing whatever parts of their lunch they hadn't lost already.

Wusses.

"Where do I go?" Jeridan asked, spitting out the last of his own stomach contents.

"Take evasive maneuvers thirty degrees to starboard and descend," Negasi said.

He did as he was told. He could barely see now, and his head felt like someone was banging a giant sledgehammer against the inside of his skull, trying to get out.

"Ten degrees port … five degrees starboard … " Negasi said.

Jeridan tried to follow. He wasn't sure about the difference between ten and five degrees anymore. He was barely holding onto the concept of port and starboard.

"Descend hard. HARD!"

He descended, but not hard enough. There was a loud bang and the shuttle jerked to port.

"We've been hit!" one of the soldiers wailed.

"You think I don't know that?" Jeridan said, "I'm the best pilot in the … "

No one heard him, because his words came out mumbled and incoherent, and his sentence trailed off to nothing as he dropped into unconsciousness.

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