by John Walker
“What?” Gray stood. “What do you mean disappeared?”
“They’re gone! Straight off my scans!” Paul gestured helplessly at the controls. “I have no idea how it’s possible but…there you are.”
“You’re not finished.” Everly scowled. “Keep looking. They have to be out there somewhere.”
“Maybe they did a hyperjump,” Redding offered. “We did some serious damage to one of their ships after all. They probably bugged out.”
“They had one fully operational ship and another still combat effective,” Clea said. “They did not simply abandon their operation.”
“There’s something to be said about Redding’s assessment,” Everly added. “Paul, do a search for any hyperjump activity. If they did it, they had to leave a wake, right?”
“I’m not picking anything up…” Paul hummed. “No, nothing odd at all.”
“Tim, what’ve we got as far as solar bodies in the area?” Gray leaned on the young man’s seat to look at his screen. “Anything bigger than the garbage we picked up?”
“Um…prospectors identified an asteroid nearby.” Tim shrugged. “It’s pretty big. Large mineral deposits. They were planning an operation in the next few weeks.”
“Big enough to hide behind?”
“Not the Behemoth but it could easily hide a wing of fighters. Especially if they stayed tightly grouped.”
Gray turned to Everly. “Have Revente launch a wing and get them behind that asteroid.”
“What’s your thought?”
“I think it’s their turn for a trick and the only thing we can do is hope we can counter it.”
Everly got on the com to get the fighters going. Gray returned to his seat, leaning forward. Clea watched him for a long moment, wondering exactly what he considered at times like that. How did he strategize against the unknown? Her own people found it quite the challenge. Creative as they were, they struggled in fights like this.
The humans seemed to thrive in them. As they waited for the enemy to spring their attack, they remained outwardly calm, doing their jobs to the best of their abilities. That was one of the things Clea liked most about them. They met challenges without allowing the weight of consequence to effect their performance.
Her people could learn a great deal from them. She sure had.
“Fighters away, Captain,” Everly announced. “They’ll be in position in less than two minutes.”
“Good.” Gray checked his tablet. “Give us some distance on the Silver Star, Redding. I don’t want to end up in her aft if something goes awry.”
Redding ran her hand along the screen and engaged the retro thrusters, reducing speed. The Silver Star pulled ahead of them, crawling to a respectable distance. Clea squinted at the screen, watching for anything out of the ordinary. Shimmering stars, a ripple in space, or even a flash of light might provide an early warning of what might come.
Tension built. Clea felt like they were being watched by a great predator hiding in the bushes about to pounce. She clenched her fist in anticipation. Where are you? Alliance engagements tended to be straightforward. The enemy attacked and one side or the other was repelled. These cat and mouse games were new to her.
“Contact!” Paul shouted. “Port side!”
“What the hell?” Everly leaned half forward as the enemy ships seemed to appear from nowhere a short distance away. Clea estimated they must’ve been no more than two hundred kilometers off, about as far as when they passed by them during their initial engagement. “Open fire!”
The order came too late as the enemy weapons flashed.
“Brace for impact!” Gray grabbed his seat as he shouted. Clea tensed and a moment later, the entire ship shook from the blasts. Lights flickered on the bridge. Agatha shouted and Redding worked her controls, moving her hands rapidly though what she was trying to do, Clea couldn’t guess.
“Evasive!” Gray grunted. “Get us out of their line of fire!”
The ship jostled as Redding took them downward, a rapid maneuver that pressed everyone into their seats. Clea envisioned that people lost their footing throughout the ship, collapsing under the sudden change of velocity and course. Tim gripped his console tightly and Paul worked his controls rapidly.
“Return fire,” Everly barked. “Give them a reason to back the hell off!”
Their own weapons caused the ship to vibrate as they returned fire. No lock but a few direct hits splashed against the enemy’s shields. The bombardment continued and they saw a group of enemy fighters rushing out from behind their carriers, rushing toward the Behemoth at breakneck speed. They were triangular with fins on the top and bottom housing weapons that lit up space.
“Get our fighters in here now!” Everly continued giving the orders. “Engage! Engage!”
Gray turned to Paul. “Damage report?”
“Still coming in, sir!” Paul shook his head. “I’ve got an overload of data and we’re still being bombarded! Shields dropped for a moment but they’re holding now. We took a direct hit on decks seven and eight. Hull breach has been sealed with automatic repair systems. Engine power has dropped to eighty percent!”
Another blast shook the ship and Gray nearly fell out of his seat. “Redding, I thought I told you to get us out of here!”
“I’m on it, sir! This thing isn’t exactly a fighter! We’re moving as fast as we can.”
“Fighters have engaged!” Tim reported. “They’re distracting the enemy pilots.”
“They’re powering up for another full barrage!” Paul shouted. “Sir, we can’t take another full on attack on the port side!”
“Twist us, Redding,” Gray said, “give them another angle to beat on.”
Clea turned to her tablet and read the damage reports from the enemy. The one hit with the bombs restored their shields to a little more than fifty percent. Their weapons were sure online. They powered up for another attack. The Behemoth’s shots hit enough to give her some hope but if the two enemies fired at the same time…
“Ms Redding,” Clea said. “Get us in position with one of the enemy ships between us and the other. They’re both powering up again and if each shoot at us…well, like Ensign Bailey said, we cannot take that.”
“No pressure or anything,” Redding muttered, stabbing her console with quick motions. The ship moved again, this time in a more erratic manner. Something deep in the hull groaned from the effort before the ship suddenly plunged downward and starboard, away from the enemies entirely. “Hold on!”
She hit a button and the fusion drive lit up and the engines roared. The enemy fired but they weren’t there, a clean miss! Paul checked his scans and hooted. “Only one of them is facing us now and we’re giving them our starboard!”
“Calm down,” Gray commanded. “This isn’t remotely over. Redding, keep fire on those bastards and push us to catch up with the Silver Star. Paul, get them on the line and see what they can do to help. This outnumbered nonsense needs to end now.”
***
Meagan’s Panther Wing and Tiger Wing launched again and took position near the asteroid, close enough to mask their scan signatures. Each of their fighters remained close enough to see the other pilots in their cockpits, enough to wave at one another. This sortie didn’t even have a briefing. Just a note to get out there and hide behind the asteroid.
Revente warned them to maintain radio silence. They communicated in scan pings, a military code which conveyed an impressively large vocabulary. Even those they kept to a minimum. In the event of an order, Meagan prepared a message to have them fall out. If they had to fight, they’d break silence.
Until then, they waited.
Meagan hadn’t been in a fighter for such a lengthy period of time since first boarding the Behemoth. During their initial training and drills, they spent hours in their fighters, launching and docking, practicing rapid deployments. Things slacked off somewhat for a while but they maintained their edge with surprise mock combat engagements.
Even
when they’d be woken up every other night to board their ships and get out into space, Meagan didn’t feel the tension she did now. Revente wouldn’t have had them launch without a good reason. It dawned on her she didn’t see the enemy ships and a chill ran down her spine.
If they fled, we wouldn’t be out here right now. Meagan looked over her shoulder and in every direction she could. Where the hell are they then?
They appeared out of nowhere, weapons blazing. “Holy shit!” One of the pilots broke radio silence but Meagan couldn’t blame him. This was unexpected in a major way. How? What kind of technology allowed…well…that?!
Fighters deployed from one of their hangars, heading away toward the Silver Star. Weapons tore at the Behemoth and they returned fire. The combat started wild and didn’t seem like it would slow down any time soon. This might very well be the deciding battle, the one where one side or another wouldn’t walk away.
“Form up on me,” Meagan spoke into her com, pulling back the stick on her fighter and jamming the throttle to full. “Engage those fighters. Keep them away from the Silver Star.”
Mick came on the line. “Readings indicate they’re armed similar to us. Shields, pulse cannons…possible radiation from projectile ordinance.”
“I’m reading fifteen,” David said. “No, scratch that. I’m seeing twenty.”
“Quite the discrepancy.” Mick joked. “You missed five of them?”
“Hey, they’re tightly grouped!”
Meagan strained against the g force of her fighter pushing top speed, her muscles tense. The enemy loomed ahead but they didn’t even acknowledge their pursuers. Why do they want the Silver Star so badly? Could that be why they came to Earth again? Were they after the alien ship? Makes sense…but I don’t have time for speculation.
“If they’re going to give us their aft, oblige them with some well placed shots, ladies and gentlemen,” Meagan spoke over the com. “Let’s do this.”
A flash of light made her wince from the left. David must’ve taken the first shot, a pulse blast that lit up space and grazed one of the fighters. Before anyone else in the wing could pull the trigger, the enemy ships decided to change course, flipping around to meet the Behemoth fighters head on.
“That’s more like it,” Shelly called out. “Let’s do this!”
“Stick with your wingman and play it by the numbers!” Meagan replied. “Here we go!”
Meagan and Mick pulled up and to the left while Panthers Three and Four went right. The rest of the wing dove and weaved about, spreading out the potential conflict to give them some room to maneuver. Each group of two pulled a contingent of the enemy, between two and three though the Behemoth crew outnumbered the enemy fighters.
We’ve got this. Meagan spoke the words to herself as she juked right to avoid a pulse blast. It whizzed by her ship, just skimming her shields. “This guy’s all over me, Mick.” Another couple shots missed but it was only a matter of time. “How’re you doing?”
“Mine’s pretty persistent too but,” Mick spun his fighter in a barrel roll and dove, striking the breaks so he spun, his aft spinning down to line up a shot. He pulled the trigger and his pursuer erupted in a ball of blue then winked out, destroyed. “I had a plan.”
“Nice maneuver,” Meagan grunted as she pulled to the left and lowered her throttle. Retro thrusters engaged in her front and the enemy nearly collided with her. Apparently, he had some sense of self preservation because he pulled up and flew past her, wildly dodging to avoid a lock. You’re screwed now, buddy.
The HUD in her cockpit lit up as the enemy danced near her reticle. She moved the stick with perfect finesse, lining the shot up for her computer to get a solid lock. The computer pinged a monotonous rhythm then suddenly emitted a solid buzz. Meagan pulled the trigger, her cockpit warming instantly as the pulse blasters annihilated her target.
“Watch it!” Meagan had no idea whose voice shouted over the line or if it was even meant for her but she reacted, pulling to the right. The ship strained at the sudden maneuver and even with the inertial dampeners, her vision blackened temporarily. A missile flew by so close she could make out the fins surrounding the thruster in the back.
The ordinance exploded a moment later and Meagan gunned her throttle to avoid the concussion wake. Her attacker, a ship trying to maneuver for another shot, flew nearby in the opposite direction. She adjusted course, making a play to gain the same advantage he sought.
Chaos raged around them as ships dodged and weaved, climbing and banking in an effort to pull off shots. Distraction tended to be the biggest danger of space combat. The temptation to attack another, easier to target craft always entered the equation. Meagan constantly hammered into her pilots the importance of spacial awareness: always focus on the thing that’s focusing on you.
In this case, her opponent had it in for her, of that she was certain. He already took one shot and wouldn’t give up. She spun her craft and took a pot shot, something to throw him off guard. His ship bounced away, an incredible maneuver that made her head spin. How’d you even do that? His thrusters essentially tossed him a few feet to the right, a quick burst from the side moving him to safety.
He returned the favor, firing several blasts in her direction. Meagan dodged, turning her craft sideways to fly between his attacks. The pulse beams sizzled against her shields but she took no damage.
They began flying directly at one another and she returned fire, letting a missile fly to distract him from shooting back. He once again pulled off a stupendous maneuver, climbing out of her path and narrowly avoiding destruction from the missile. As he leveled out, Meagan moved in behind him with a perfect shot at his aft.
Now I’ve got you. Meagan hit the computer and tried for another lock but her opponent’s erratic motion made the computer useless. She eyeballed it, taking several shots that he dodged about like a fly avoiding a swatter. Who the hell am I fighting? Their version of the Red Baron?
Meagan fired again and this time, the enemy dropped below her attack and suddenly spun in place. As he came around, his weapons discharged, blasting her with a direct hit. The fighter bounced from the initial contact and she lost control for a moment, careening away from the fight and back toward a large fray of combat.
“I’ve been hit,” she announced, trying to keep the stress from her voice. “Checking systems.”
All the calm she could muster didn’t fight off the anxiety of knowing the incredible pilot was still out there, still trying to take her out. He might already be behind her but she didn’t have scans to prove it. Power fluctuated then the automatic backup system came online. She saw her nemesis had indeed moved in behind her and was seeking a lock.
The flight stick didn’t respond at first but as the engines fired back up, she was able to jam her controls starboard and pull away. Hitting full throttle, she saw pulse blasts zing by her cockpit, missing by mere inches. Damage reports indicated her shields were at thirty percent, not enough to stop another direct hit. They were charging but she needed a good minute for them to be effective again.
Don’t have time for that. “Where the hell are you, Mick?” Meagan asked over the com. “This guy is all over me!”
“I’ve got my own problems,” he replied, “but I’m working my way back to you. Hey, I’ve got an idea.”
“I’m all for them.”
“Remember those retro videos? The Blue Angels?”
Meagan dodged, grunting at the effort. Once again, she narrowly avoided death. “Get to the point, man!”
“If your sensors are up, I’m coming straight at you. We have to make this close…I’m thinking no more than three meters.”
“What’s no more than three meters?”
“The distance we’ll be from one another as we pass by. You dive, I’ll climb. Our friends will have a quick meeting they hopefully won’t walk away from.”
“Jesus…” Meagan nodded. “Sounds insane but I’m in.”
“Ten seconds.”
&nbs
p; That’s a lifetime out here…more than enough time for this jerk to put me down.
“Count it down,” Meagan glanced over her shoulder. Her guy was closing in. What the hell? Need the up close kill or are you finally realizing I’m too wily for your bad shooting?
Shields read fifty percent. At least I won’t die if he gets a lucky shot but two pulse beams will do me in. She spun, a barrel roll dodge which took her slightly off course. Her sensors showed how to correct and she nudged herself back into position.
“We still good?” She asked Mick.
“You should see me. Get ready!”
Mick appeared suddenly ahead of her and if not for the precise measurements of their sensors, she would’ve sworn they were about to collide. Trusting in their instruments went against her every instinct. When he went by, she felt his wake and she pressed her flight stick forward, entering a swift dive.
Light erupted behind her and on her scan, she saw the enemy ships collided, turning into a ball of blue light then fading to nothing.
“Oh my God, that actually worked!” Meagan allowed herself some relief. “Good job, Mick!”
“Goes to show they don’t have the same communication network we do,” Mick replied. “Looks like they’re all out here independently. “
“Good point.” Meagan looked down and frowned at the readings on her console. The containment unit holding her pulse engine had a hairline crack. Any more damage might rip it open and then, she’d be done. Even if the shields prevented a full on destructive blow, a pulse breach meant certain death.
“I’m in a little more trouble. Look at these readings.”
“Just be careful,” Mick replied. “I’ve done an entire mission with a cracked core. It’s cool. We’re almost done here.”
The enemy fighters had been depleted but so had they. Half of Tiger wing was down. Lieutenant Richard Martin, Panther Seven, wasn’t responding to hails. This was a real fight, the kind they’d trained for, sure but no one knew just how bad it would get or how deadly. Meagan took a deep breath and steadied herself for the rest of the engagement.
