Guybrush hunched over the flight yoke, gently nudging Boss Hog left or right as he flew through the asteroid belt. Finally he relaxed, sat back, and set the controls to autopilot.
He turned to Wally, the short red haired kid sitting in the copilot seat. Wally, his feet barely reaching the edge of the seat, stared forward with a narrow gleam in his eyes. A second flight yoke was positioned in front of him, and Wally held onto it with pudgy, determined hands.
For the first time, Guybrush wondered why he'd taken this kid on.
"Not bad," he said to Wally. "You've got the steering down pretty well, and after a few more hours-"
But he didn't get a chance to finish. A large red light on the roof had begun to flash, and a speaker beeped thinly. Instantly Guybrush forgot about Wally. He swung around and glanced sharply at the console.
There was a green blip on the radarscope. "Aha," said Guybrush. "A type F needlefighter." He nudged Boss Hog's speed up. "Wally, I think it's time you got some combat skills."
Wally's confidence instantly dried up. He looked worriedly at Guybrush. "But... but... we aren't in any condition to fight. None of the weapons systems are ready."
"Relax, Wally," said Guybrush, as they gained on the craft.
Wally grew more nervous. "A type F needlefighter has permanently charged laser beams, automatic missile deflection and timewarp weapons!" he said, quoting his extensive starfighter memory. "We can't-"
"Calm down, Wally," said Guybrush. "I'm got a few combat tricks up my sleeve, stuff you don't find out in the manuals."
They were close enough now to actually see the type F needlefighter ahead. It was just rocketing along in a straight line, as if the pilot hadn't seen them. Wally knew better - type F needlefighters had ten times the surveillance of this antiquated wreck. Most probably, it didn't give a damn about them.
Guybrush hit a few switches. There was a mechanical groaning beneath them, almost as loud as Wally's. Carbon energy-seeking missiles. He couldn't believe it. There must be a thousand pirate starships out there, and he had to pick a ride with the one who was still using carbon missiles. They were slow. Unreliable. You could knock out their guidance system with even a hint of chaff. And this idiot wanted to use them to take down a type F needlefighter!
Wally tried to make himself inconspicuous. Not that it would help. The moment that needlefighter saw them attack, it would vaporize this whole ship.
Guybrush flicked on the intercom! Wally's teeth started chattering.
There was a face on the intercom, huge and brutish.
"My name is Guybrush Threepwood," said Guybrush. "Prepare to die."
He released the missile. With a whoosh that seemed to lurch the whole ship backward, it sped toward its target...