by Sarah Hawke
“That was a highly illogical wager, given my assurances to the contrary,” Selorah replied. “Unless you were assuming—”
“Cut the chatter,” Blackstar gently scolded. “It’s time to get serious and focus. All fighters, report in.”
I smiled and sank back in my chair as Seraph Squadron continued their rollcall. Given how late we’d all been up last night, I had expected to be a walking zombie by morning. But for some inexplicable reason, a night of intense, body-shattering sex with three beautiful women had completely recharged my proverbial batteries. Who knew?
“Phoenix Squadron, report in,” I said once Blackstar and his squad had finished.
“Spectre, standing by.”
“Squeaker, standing by.”
“Cobalt, thinking this is a stupid idea but standing by.”
“Morningstar, wishing his squadmates were more professional by standing by.”
“Martyr, hating her stupid name but standing by.”
“We’re good to go,” I said, grinning. I knew full well how quickly our cheer would mutate into fear once we actually approached Nelphari, but for the moment everyone seemed confident and ready. After what felt like an eon of training and preparation, we were finally going to take the fight to the enemy. The Cole Vontera of two months never would have believed that any of this was possible. The Valkyries, the new powers, the imperial bloodline, the girls (well, he obviously would have been jealous of the girls)…
The past version of myself would have looked at me with utter contempt for shackling myself to a group of hapless rebels who fancied themselves the new Seraphim. At this point, the only question left to answer was whether or not he was right. One way or another, I would get my answer soon enough.
“This is a momentous day,” Master Mosaad said. “For the first time in a generation the Seraph’s children will rise against the barbarism of the Tarreen and the brutality of their Convectorate. But today, we no longer fight for a corrupt council or a cowardly leader. We fight for the people of this sector—we fight for everyone who has languished under the tyranny of the Hierarchy for far too long.”
“A victory won’t change the past,” he went on. “No battle can heal the pain our ancestors inflicted or right the injustices they wrought about the galaxy. Nothing can truly change what the Dominion was…but we can show the galaxy what a new one shall be. For a New Dominion! For the Seraph!”
The com flooded with cheers, but I remained silent. All I could think about were Raxyl’s words a few weeks ago.
Whatever else I may think about Wynn Mosaad and the Blades of the Seraph, he and his students represent my best and likely only chance to avenge your mother’s death. That is why I am going to teach them everything I know about flying a Valkyrie. And then I am going to kill the bastard who took your mother away from us.
Raxyl’s mind was a black blot to me; his Kali physiology prevented even the Valkyrie’s sensors from getting much of a read on him. But if revenge was enough of a motivation for him, then surely it should have been enough for me, too.
“The astral drive is at full power,” Selorah announced. “We can shift at any time.”
I nodded as I glanced back and forth at the men and women on my wing. “Phoenix Squadron: prepare to shift on my mark,” I said. “Let’s get this done.”
***
The pinkish-red mist of astral space enveloped us on all sides, and after a mere hour of exposure to its energies I was already feeling queasy. I couldn’t help but remember Kaveri’s previous warning about the so-called “Koro Effect.” If we stayed in here much longer, some of us might actually start losing our minds…
But thankfully, the jump to Nelphari was a short one, and after a few more minutes one of the crystals on my consoles began glowing faintly. The Valkyrie automatically shunted power away from the astral drive, and an instant later the endless pinkish mist was replaced by the endless black void of normal space.
This is it. This is finally it.
Off to my left, a blue-green star burned so brightly I had to squint; off to my right, the familiar red hull of the Avernal Fury prowled the system. And looming above them all, its docking arms coiled around a massive asteroid like some kind of cancerous growth, was the Nelphari shipyard.
“There she is,” Morningstar said. “Even uglier than the holos.”
“And bigger, too,” Cobalt added warily. “A lot bigger…”
“Don’t worry, they just reconfigured the positions of some of the docking arms,” I assured her, closing my eyes and stretching out as far as I could through the Valkyrie. The shipyard really did look larger than the last scouting report, but my sensors confirmed it was just an optical illusion. The mass, the armament, and everything else were the same. Still, with all the docking arms spread out I could have easily mistaken it for a giant arachnid waiting patiently for its prey…
“Power levels steady; all systems standing by,” Spectre said as if to jog me from my reverie. “On your command, Phoenix Leader.”
I nodded even though none of them could see me. “All fighters, report in.”
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as everyone checked in. Unsurprisingly, their voices were considerably tighter than before. Most of the tension came from the fact we were finally staring at our enemy in the flesh, but some of it was just because we’d all had a long, quiet hour in astral space to dwell on our insecurities. As the old cliché said, waiting was the worst part.
Other than the dying and the pain, anyway.
“They’ve surely spotted us by now, right?” Martyr asked.
“Unlikely,” Spectre said. “I am not detecting any sensor buoys or listening posts.”
“Then let’s make sure we get their attention,” I said. “Raise shields and form up on my wing. Just stick to the plan and everything will work out, I promise.”
“Seraph protect us…” Cobalt whispered.
“You worry too much,” Morningstar said. “The emperor will look after his peasants.”
I smiled at the sound of their nervous chuckles. I was going to look after them, and we were going to pull this off. We had to.
“Punching thrusters in five,” I said. “Here we go!”
The other Valkyries settled on my wing as we accelerated towards our target. We weren’t planning anything fancy just yet; a basic V attack formation was threatening enough for the time being. The Vecs wouldn’t be able to detect our heavy ordinance from here, but Ferron surely knew first-hand how much damage six Valkyries could inflict.
“The shipyard is launching defensive fighters,” Spectre announced. “Fifty drones, bearing nine-nine-three mark two-seven-one.”
“Fifty?” Martyr blurted out. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“The simulations projected twenty or thirty at most,” Squeaker put in. “What’s going—?”
“Cut the chatter,” I said, clutching my flight stick more tightly. “The more of them we draw our way, the better.”
None of them argued the point—at least not verbally—but I could feel their collective tension through the sensors. I really wished I knew how to filter it out. My own doubt was bad enough without having all of theirs pile on top of me, too.
“The Avernal Fury is taking up a defensive position above the shipyard, as expected,” Spectre said. “All CDF construction vessels are en route the main hangar.”
“Mosaad said Ferron would be cautious considering how much trouble the Valkyries gave him on Varsus,” I said, forcing myself to take in deep breath. We had always known we would be outnumbered, obviously, but staring down nine-to-one odds was a lot more stressful in real life than a simulator.
“They’re coming right at us,” Squeaker stammered.
“That was the plan, kid,” Morningstar said. “Weren’t you paying attention?”
“Just relax and stay focused,” I told them. “More targets just means they’ll be harder to miss.”
Martyr snorted. “That may be the stupidest thing you’ve
ever said.”
“If only,” Spectre added.
I kept my finger hovering above the trigger. The enemy drones kept closing. Fifty thousand kilometers, thirty thousand kilometers, ten thousand kilometers…I kept waiting for a premonition to wash over me and warn me to get the hell out of here, but when it never came I focused all my attention on the enemy attack pattern instead. Even a few milliseconds of extra reaction time could be the difference between life and death.
“Steady,” I whispered. “Steady…now!”
We broke formation exactly like we had practiced. A storm of green plasma bolts surrounded us on all sides, but to my surprise—and pride—not a single member of Phoenix Squadron flinched. They steeled themselves, bolstered their shields, and unleashed a retaliatory hail of cannon fire.
The next few seconds were a blur of blinding light and frenetic motion. My canopy flashed with explosions; without the Valkyrie’s sensors, I wouldn’t have been able to see or process a damn thing. I felt a brush of heat on my face as my shields absorbed a barrage of plasma bolts, but I clenched my teeth and forced myself to focus on my targets. Drone after drone darted in front of my cannons before being shredded into flaming cinders, and I tried and failed to keep a mental count of how many we destroyed…
And then we were clear. All five other pilots looped together on the other side of the swarm, and I didn’t even need to bark out orders to get them to fall back into formation. Our fighters were streaming information into our brains far faster than we could consciously react.
“Thirteen down, a billion to go,” Morningstar called out. “Those other idiots better show up soon.”
“Just keep it tight and hold together,” I said. “Let’s draw them a little bit further away from the shipyard.”
I slammed the Valkyrie’s throttle back to full, and the others stayed close on my wing as if we were about to execute a Kaysian Loop and dive right back into the heart of the enemy formation. Predictably, the CDF drones readied themselves for our maneuver: they spread out into a U-shaped cloud designed to maximize their firing solutions if we dared to attack them directly.
Thankfully, I had no intention of challenging their targeting algorithms. I mentally counted down the seconds as we pulled further and further away, hoping Blackstar and his group were as punctual as they were supposed to be…
“There they are!” Morningstar blurted out as six more Valkyries suddenly appeared on the sensors. “Suck on this, you scaly shitbags.”
I grinned despite myself as Blackstar and Seraph Squadron dove towards the shipyard and strafed across its outer docking limbs. I couldn’t tell exactly how much damage they inflicted from here, but the important part was that the Avernal Fury took the bait. The battleship’s engines roared to life, and it abandoned its defensive position to chase down the pesky fighters.
And the moment it had committed, the Vantrax shifted into the system and dove right towards the shipyard’s central command cluster.
“Hell yeah!” Cobalt whooped.
I watched, grinning, as the destroyer’s heavy cannons began thundering away. Once the drones inevitably changed course to go after the new threat, we would have the perfect opportunity to chase them down and pick them off at our leisure.
At least, that had been the original plan. Unfortunately, the drones didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in the rest of the battle. They remained hot on our tails.
“Why aren’t they turning around?” Squeaker asked. “Something wrong with their software?”
“Unlikely,” Spectre said. “They must still consider us a larger threat.”
“Which makes no sense at all,” I murmured, my eyes narrowing. The shipyard and the Avernal Fury had launched a few additional fighters, but Seraph Squadron could handle them easily enough. If I were Admiral Ferron, I would be in full panic mode right now…so why didn’t the Vecs seem to care?
“Something’s wrong,” Martyr said. “What do we do now?”
I took a deep breath and shifted my attention back to the engagement at hand. “If they want to keep chasing us, fine—we’ll make them pay for it. Prepare for a Tyber’s Split in five.”
I felt their tentative acknowledgments through the Valkyrie, and I mentally shunted most of the fighter’s shield power forward. As the seconds ticked by, I almost wanted a dire premonition just to give me some kind of guidance…but yet again none was forthcoming.
“Now!”
All six of us banked hard towards the pursuing swarm of drones, and a blistering hail of fire greeted us the instant we moved back into range. Rather than dive straight through them and get eviscerated, however, we all abruptly split in different directions…and their loose formation suddenly became a huge liability.
My psionic cannons tore through three of the drones before they could react, and a heartbeat later I had already emerged on the other side. My Valkyrie assured me that everyone else was having similar luck: Spectre took out two more drones, Martyr blasted one, and Squeaker—
The premonition finally hit me. My heart stopped, my breath caught in my throat, and the entire universe slowed to a crawl. The deluge of images and feelings was so intense my brain couldn’t consciously process them before my mouth blurted out a warning. “Squeaker, watch your six! There’s something—”
Too late. I felt a brief terrified ripple through the Valkyrie’s sensors…and then Squeaker was gone. I instinctively glanced back over my shoulder, assuming—dreading—that I would witness the last few instants of his Valkyrie exploding. But his starfighter was still there, and it was fully intact…I just couldn’t sense any psionic energy.
“What the hell?” I breathed.
“Incoming!” Spectre warned.
My head snapped forward, and I reflexively threw my fighter into a tight evasive roll. The rest of Phoenix Squadron followed my lead, albeit slowly. I could feel the fear and shock rippling over them, and I knew we couldn’t afford even a split second of hesitation. I reached out through the Valkyrie and touched their minds, attempting to soothe their horror long enough for us to get some distance…
And then we were free. The surviving drones kept following us in a tight formation despite our superior speed, and they seemed completely content to leave Squeaker’s powerless Valkyrie floating in open space behind them.
“Shit,” Morningstar hissed. “We have to get back to him!”
“What the hell happened?” Cobalt stammered. “Why didn’t they shoot him down?”
“I do not know, but they appear to have drained his power somehow,” Spectre said. “One of the drones fired an explosive device that detonated near his hull. I do not recognize the energy signature, but it appears to be psionic in origin.”
I grimaced as I tried to relive the last few seconds. Everything had happened so quickly, and the Valkyrie didn’t have normal sensor logs. “Is that even possible?”
“I do not possess enough information to speculate. However, if the Convectorate has developed some kind of anti-psionic technology—”
“We’re fucked,” Morningstar said. “Completely fucked.”
“Seraph’s mercy, I told you something was wrong,” Martyr hissed. “They were ready for us!”
I wanted to argue, but before I could figure out what to say Selorah’s voice spoke over the com. “Outcast, this is the Vantrax, do you copy?”
“I’m here,” I rasped. “What’s your status?”
“We just lost communication with Seraph Leader. His Valkyrie appears to have been disabled but not destroyed.”
I swore under my breath. “We’re down one too. I’m hesitant to reengage without knowing what’s going on.”
“The Vantrax is also encountering difficulties. The shipyard’s shield grid is significantly stronger than I anticipated. We will not be able to penetrate its defenses before we are overwhelmed.”
“Then it’s over,” Cobalt hissed. “We already lost…”
My fingers squeezed the flight stick so tightly my knuckles tu
rned white. One way or another, we had all come to terms with the danger and difficulty of this mission, but somehow watching Squeaker’s fighter float there helplessly was almost more disturbing than if he had been killed. Rage and vengeance would have eventually overwhelmed my shock, at least temporarily, but outright confusion was a lot harder to cope with…
“We haven’t lost anything yet,” Master Mosaad’s voice said. “The original plan will work. We are going to board the Avernal Fury, and we are going to force the Tarreen to surrender.”
“But, sir,” Cobalt stammered, “how can we—?”
“Just keep those drones occupied as long as you can,” he interrupted. “We’re already on our way.”
The com cut out before I could protest, but my sensors confirmed the launch of their assault shuttle. Kaveri and Mosaad were barreling towards Ferron’s flagship, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
“Seraph save us,” Martyr rasped. “What do we do now?”
I swallowed heavily, and for the first time in my life I whispered an earnest prayer to a being that probably didn’t exist.
“We keep fighting,” I said. “To the end.”
Interlude
Wynn Mosaad winced as another barrage of plasma fire splattered across the transport’s forward shields. For a moment, he could have sworn he was trapped inside a living echo of the past. When he closed his eyes, he could see Emperor Falric’s flagship superimposed over the Avernal Fury, and when he blinked he could see the ashes of the Covenant fleet still burning in space.
Talasea, Keledon, and now Nelphari…how many chances can one man get? How many times can he try and fail to change the galaxy?
“I suggest the following approach vector,” Selorah’s calm, crisp voice said over the com. “It should minimize the firing solutions from their point-defense cannons.”
“Agreed,” Mosaad said, rolling the shuttle slightly to port. A few moments ago the Avernal Fury’s point-defense cannons had been busy harassing the nearby Valkyries, but apparently Admiral Ferron had only just realized he was about to be boarded. Now it was too late to stop them.
