The black dot in his field of vision that was Rebecca began to glow a bright orange as she penetrated the ionosphere. Ethan had faith in her suit’s ability to withstand the violent, superheated contact, but there were still other problems to face. The Naldím squadron had come into range far more quickly than he had anticipated. The turbulence caused by upper atmosphere was accentuated by glancing hits on Ethan’s tail. The Naldím were attacking in full force now.
As the plummeting group burst out of their plasma shells, Rebecca was able to right herself, throwing her arms and legs out into a splayed position, although it did little to slow her descent. Ethan, however, was able to accelerate, closing the distance between them fast enough to give him hope. A hundred meters out, Rebecca’s comm signal began to clear up.
“I have…wingsuit…too fast to use,” the comm sputtered.
“I’ll take care of you,” Ethan promised, “but I need these guys off my back.”
Wordlessly, Rebecca responded, flipping on her back and extracting twin pistols from her belt. They erupted in a series of explosive muzzleflashes, rounds ripping past Ethan’s ship to meet the attackers. Despite the hail of bullets flying past him, Ethan and his craft remained untouched. Rebecca’s accuracy saw his craft to safety as the ships around him broke out of formation in a series of evasive maneuvers.
His flank secured, Ethan gunned the throttle and rocketed past Rebecca, turning on a dime as he did so to reorient himself along the horizon. The ship’s wings bowed against the sudden onrush of air. Somewhere in the cockpit, a warning blared. Checking his position against that of Rebecca – a mere silohuette against the flames of her guns – Ethan slowly inched the craft into position. He twisted and spun the control sphere, the craft twitching left, right, forward, and backward to compensate for the midair acrobatics Rebecca began to perform as the Naldím fighters targeted her.
“Sit still,” Ethan grunted. Rebecca, somehow hearing the command over the thunderous drumroll of her guns, looked beneather her to see the drop pod awaiting occupancy. She steadied herself and prepared to land in it.
One of the the maimed Naldím fighters suddenly combusted, spinning out of control and tumbling past them. Its shattered wing caught on Ethan’s and flipped him over, his other wing jerking upward and swatting Rebecca away. She careened horizontally across the battlefield, completely losing control.
Ethan wrenched his ship free of the Naldím’s wing and shot after her. The ground was approaching fast, a jagged line of rock and brush that spanned a kilometer in each direction. There was no soft landing to be had.
Pooling all his wits and luck into one final maneuver, Ethan dove into a trajectory matching that of Rebecca and opened the throttle. Closing in, he rolled as gently as he could, scooping Rebecca up in the open drop pod. He pulled into a tighter roll, holding her in by centripetal force alone, then leveled out, scraping over the tallest trees with only a meter to spare.
The two remaining Naldím craft were not so lucky. A monumental shockwave behind Ethan told him the first had not pulled up soon enough. The second fighter did, overshooting Ethan and falling directly into his line of fire. With a squeeze of the trigger, it ceased to exist.
Flitting over the horizon, Ethan waited for Voyager Dawn to come into comm range. The voice of the traffic controller had never been so welcome.
“Sergeant Walker,” he said. “Welcome home.”
*
“Critical success,” Rhodes said, smiling uncharacteristically, “are the words of the day, I think.” He looked at Frank, Ethan, and Rebecca in turn. “Though I’m sure you’re all wondering exactly how successful. Sergeant, Corporal, did you see the results?”
Ethan shook his head.
“We were busy,” Rebecca answered, deadpan.
“Tango Two was destroyed,” the captain reported, completely failing to suppress his enthusiasm. “Tango One fired on it when they realized what was happening, and the bomb was set off in the process. The resulting explosion dealt significant damage to Tango One. It’s a huge blow to their morale, and a boost to ours. You three may have just turned the tide of this battle.”
Frank looked over at Ethan with barely-contained giddiness. Ethan shot a grin back at him.
“What’s the next move?” Rebecca asked, ignoring the two of them.
“Take a breath, Winters. Enjoy it,” Rhodes said. “They know what we’re capable of now, and hopefully that will put them on the defensive. Nevertheless, another assault on their ship would mean heavy casualties. We need to wait and see what their next move is. Once another weakness crops up, we’ll hit it with everything we have.”
“So we’re just going to do nothing?” Rebecca sputtered. “There won’t be a better time to attack! Kick them while they’re down, and they won’t have a chance to get back up.”
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Agent Winters,” Rhodes said coldly, “but these last excursions took weeks of planning and amassing resources. We simply don’t know enough about Tango One to justify an assault. The casualties could be astronomical.”
Lapsing into silence, Rebecca conceded his point, but was none too happy about it. Rhodes took the opportunity to dismiss them. Ethan preceded the others out of the room, instructing Frank to start the festivities without him. He stopped outside the door to intercept Rebecca.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked. Rebecca looked between him and the elevator.
“What?”
“I wanted to say sorry,” Ethan said slowly, finding the words difficult, “for saying what I said about you in the barracks last night.”
Rebecca missed a beat. “I’m fine. Really.”
“Either way, I’m sorry,” Ethan pressed. “I was out of line. It’s not your fault you’re… the way you are. You had my back on the mission, and that’s reason enough to trust you.” He stuck out his hand. “Friends?”
It was a long and awkward moment before Rebecca took it. “Friends,” she said, sounding far less certain.
The Light
“This hunt is in ruins. The Grip has done nothing to subdue these insolent pests.”
“The Grip served its purpose, if not to the fullest extent. It was those two Humans. They have proven to be a nuisance far greater than any of their kin.”
“Imposing a bounty on them might be in order.”
“No. They are mine to kill. Gather your warriors and tell them the Grip has been released. It is time to resume the hunt.”
Though the excursion had only lasted an hour or two, the adrenaline high convinced Ethan that it felt more like years. The night of his return, they held a celebratory meal in the mess.
Andre Briggs had attached himself to Omicron squad during Ethan and Rebecca’s brief absence, and took the opportunity to get acquainted with Ethan.
“Flew me back to the ship after we crashed, right?” Briggs said after the pair had been reintroduced, “Yeah, I remember you. And good job on that alien bugger. We’ll get the other one soon enough.”
“I’m counting on it,” Ethan agreed cheerily. He found himself grinning simply being in the company of Briggs. The lieutenant was dripping with charisma.
Briggs turned to Rebecca. “And here’s the lovely sheila. Heard you went up there with him,” he said.
“Yeah,” Ford cut in. “Still trying to figure out why you got to be the hero, green.”
Ethan’s heart skipped a beat; he and Frank had been given strict orders to keep Rebecca’s identity secret. He was at a loss to explain why she had accompanied him on the mission. Of course, Rebecca had it covered.
“I had special EVA training at the accelerated learning center,” she said. “The captain supposed I was best suited for the job.”
Finding himself on the other side of the secret, Ethan found the imaginary learning center to be a rather transparent lie. He quickly turned the conversation away from her. “So, Lieutenant Briggs,” Ethan interjected, “you don’t have any connection to Briggs Starship Industrial, I suppos
e.”
“Just Briggs,” Briggs said, “none of this ‘lieutenant’ nonsense. And yeah, my pappy runs the place.”
Mason, Kyle, and Ford exchanged surprised glances. “Never said anything about that before,” Mason said.
Briggs shrugged. “Never came up.”
“So what are you doing out in the black?” Ford wondered aloud. “Must’ve had a pretty cozy future lined up.”
“Didn’t ask for it. Paps groomed me for the part, sure enough, but I wasn’t having it. Preferred a bit of honest work.”
“How noble.”
Briggs ignored the jibe and turned to Ethan. “Anyway, never got to thank you for coming after us when we crashed. Maybe you didn’t get the baddie, but seeing as we didn’t cark it, everything turned up apples.”
“You’re welcome,” Ethan replied, not entirely sure how to respond. Despite a reprimand piggybacking his gratitude, Briggs’ tone implied genuine thanks. “We’ve still got a lot of fight left, though,” he added, attempting once again to redirect the conversation.
“Speaking of which, was there any word from the captain?” Kyle chimed in.
“We’re holding down the fort again,” Ethan admitted, “until we have a plan to attack the remaining ship.”
Ford choked slightly on his cigar. “Again? We’ve been sitting around plenty. Best to get up there and finish the job.”
“Rhodes didn’t like what the casualties would look like,” Ethan explained.
“Screw casualties,” Ford shot back. “If we don’t do something quick, we’re all dead. They’re going to get their shit together eventually, and you’d better have your wills written up when they do.”
“He’s right,” Kyle agreed. “If that persistent night was holding them back, our safety net is gone.”
“Not that you shouldn’t have taken out that ship,” Mason cut in, deftly preempting Ethan’s retort. “It’s like I said from the beginning. If we can force them to come to us now, we can funnel them right into a killzone.”
“They’ve already funneled us into a killzone,” Kyle argued. “We have nowhere to run. The territory here isn’t hospitable enough to support us.”
“Okay, enough doom and gloom,” Mason said, aggressively switching gears. “This is a party, remember? Get the drinks out and let’s get wasted.” Ethan heartily agreed, as did the others, and soon their troubles were forgotten.
Ethan returned to the barracks ahead of the others later that night, more exhausted than he thought a single sortie could make him, and lay in his bunk, pondering the squad’s discussion. He was no more content to wait on the Naldím than Kyle or Ford were, but the events of the day had taken their toll on him. The many problems facing Voyager Dawn could wait until morning. And, Ethan realized, there really will be a morning tomorrow. His spirits suddenly lifted, Ethan closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come. Waffle leapt over from Moira’s empty bunk to curl up next to him.
*
For the first time in two months, there was no pale flourescent glow to pester Ethan until he woke. Instead, an almost unfamiliar sight heralded the morning: sunlight. Ethan bolted upright the moment he realized what he was seeing, and rushed to the hall to look out the window. Dawn’s clearing was bathed in radiant beams streaming down from the sky. It took Ethan’s breath away.
Looking down at the base of the ship, Ethan could see all two thousand colonists pouring onto the field, chattering excitedly and loudly enough for the sound to reach his ears through the glass. He never knew he could feel this elated.
Outside, the prefab shelters that had been set up before the Naldím attack were now converted into a massive outdoor eatery. A mixture of stored and local food was being cooked up into a feast for the crew and complement alike.
Having completed his morning ablutions in record time, powered by a newfound giddiness, Ethan descended from the ship into the ocean of jubilant Dawn inhabitants still pouring onto the grassy field.
Navigating the crowd, he eventually found Moira and Waffle snacking on the latter’s namesake, while Rebecca watched the animal studiously from across the table. “Still haven’t turned him over to the captain?” Ethan asked, taking a seat next to Moira. Waffle chittered happily at him before returning to his meal.
“It’s a lost cause,” Rebecca conceded.
“I was going to leave him inside,” Moira said, “but I figured that at this point, having a pet is the least of our security concerns.”
“The captain should be more worried about all the civvies,” Ethan said. “If we don’t keep a guard on them, they’ll run off into the forest.”
“Let them,” Moira chortled. “Goodness knows they’ve been cooped up far too long. It’s not natural for adventerous spirits like theirs to be locked away for months. If anything, I thought they would’ve gone a bit more stir crazy.”
“It was pretty bad,” Ethan reminded her. She tilted her head in half-hearted agreement.
“Regardless, it’s good to let them get it out of their system. You know, this place almost looks like a colony now. Amazing what two thousand people can do with a bit of pent up energy.”
Ethan scanned the clearing. With the buildings no longer abandoned, the roots of a colony were indeed apparent. “I sort of forgot that was our mission,” he said, “way back when.”
“We’ve been fighting for this planet longer than we’ve been colonizing it,” Moira agreed, “and even if we win we’ll have to leave, unless we want to abandon a populated colony to the wrath of the Naldím. A lot of good people will have died for nothing.” She took a deep breath. “But enough of that nonsense. We’re here to celebrate.”
“Yo, Ethan!” Ethan turned around to see Rick pushing through the crowd. “Ethan, Engineering baked you a hero cake. You too, Winters. We even washed our hands first.”
“What’s a hero cake?” Rebecca asked skeptically.
“A cake for heroes,” Rick said, confused by her question. “You coming or what?”
“We’ll be right there.” Ethan watched Rick bounce jubiantly back down the aisle to Jess.
A few minutes later, after being presented with Engineering’s questionably sanitary cake, Rebecca pulled Ethan to the side.
“I need to talk to you,” she said by way of explanation as she guided him away from the crowd. “Privately.”
Still somewhat frightened of Rebecca, Ethan was hesitant to follow. There was no apparent reason for Rebecca to have adopted such a grim visage in the last few moments, or for him to fear her motives, but he could not help but conjure up the image of the field of corpses she left in her wake aboard the Naldím ship. He treaded carefully.
Closer to the tree line now than the hub, Rebecca pivoted to face him.
“What’s up?” he asked, attempting in vain to sound relaxed. He could see her jaw working furiously.
Nearly a minute passed before Rebecca spoke. “Why did you come after me when I was falling out of orbit?”
Ethan did not understand the question. “Because you were falling out of orbit.”
“You could have gotten yourself killed. I was a lost cause.”
“That’s not how it works,” Ethan said, confused by Rebecca’s self-deprication.
“That’s always how it works,” Rebecca said exasperatedly. “You calculate the odds of every outcome and choose the safest one. Your best option was to go back to Voyager Dawn.”
“Tactically, yeah,” Ethan said, shrugging, “but I wasn’t just going to let you die. I took a chance. And look – it worked out!”
Rebecca’s expression morphed from disbelief to mild amusement. “You really weren’t meant for the military, were you?”
Ethan winced slightly. She had said as much before, and it stung both times, regardless of its validity. “I prefer to think I was meant to be human,” he said.
It was not intended to be an insult, but Rebecca’s face fell. “I guess that’s where you and I are different,” she said quietly. Before Ethan could undo his slight, she
regained her composure, took a deep breath, and continued her thought. “I don’t understand you,” she said slowly, “but I owe you. Not just for saving me, but also for trying to make me feel welcome, even though I fought you every step of the way. Even now.”
Ethan smiled warmly; Rebecca mirrored him, if only just. But she had more to say. “That being said,” she continued, her voice slowing, “I feel I owe you a few answers.”
“Last time that didn’t work out so well,” Ethan recalled.
“I know,” Rebecca said, “but… times have changed. I don’t think there’s any point to keeping secrets now. We’re not in Imperial space anymore.”
“Okay,” Ethan said, drawing out the word while he thought up a question. It felt almost like a game, but suddenly a question came to mind that drove any jovialty from the situation. “Do you know who the saboteur was?” he asked.
Rebecca inhaled sharply. There was a long silence before she answered. “Yes,” she said, avoiding Ethan’s gaze with a haunting look in her eye. “It was me.”
The Rout
“What is the state of repairs?”
“Nearly complete. The damage was minimal. I daresay the attack has proved advantageous in the long run. The Warriors have been stirred into a veritable frenzy.”
“Did I not say as much? With the Grip released, the Hunt nears its conclusion. And a bloody, glorious conclusion it will be.”
Ethan was dumbfounded. Rebecca’s confession rang in his ears like a cannon blast, and she volunteered no explanation or comfort.
“Why?” he asked finally, his voice a raspy whisper.
“I was under orders,” Rebecca said. “I was sent to Dawn for recon. If a situation like this arose, I could maintain the situation until SWORD arrived.”
“You mean you were willing to stop us from killing them? From fighting for our lives?” Ethan said, his voice rising.
“If it came to that. I’ve been sending a low-band signal to SWORD since the Naldím arrived, but it’s going to take months to reach them. I had to make sure we didn’t lose the opportunity.”
Voyager Dawn Page 16
