by Ryk Brown
“Perhaps, but I don’t believe that full forces are necessary. Significant forces, yes, but not full forces. I believe proper tactics using limited forces to be more appropriate, given our current resources.”
“For a member of a military that believes in attacking with overwhelming forces, you are amazingly hesitant to do so, General.”
“Overwhelming forces make all battles winnable, Governor,” General Bacca said. “However, it is logistics that wins wars.”
* * *
Tony stood at the foot of Synda’s bed in the surgical recovery suite of the Aurora’s medical section. He studied her face as she lay peacefully sleeping. He thought about the millions of nanites that were swimming around in her body, rebuilding and repairing her damaged tissues. She looked weak to him… better than when she had first come out of surgery, but still not the feisty, independent young woman he had known back at the gym. He had known her for years, ever since she had first come to Winnipeg and enrolled at the same gym as him. She had been such a scrawny girl back then, but she had trained hard and grown strong over the years. It pained him greatly to see her this way, frail and weak once more. He wondered what would have happened had he gone looking for her after the invasion. Would they have headed north together? Might they be safe in the wilderness at this very moment, instead of being stranded on the last warship of Earth?
“Still sleeping?” Jessica whispered as she entered the room.
“Like I said, they keep her pretty much knocked out most of the time.” Tony sighed. “I was hoping to say goodbye to her before we left.”
“Probably for the best,” Jessica said. “She’d only be worrying about you instead of focusing on getting well.” Jessica paused for a moment, looking off to one side. “Just a moment,” she said as she tapped her comm-set. “Go for Nash.” She listened intently for a moment before speaking again. “Understood. Nash out.”
“Something important?” Tony asked.
“No, just routine security stuff.”
Tony looked back at Synda for a moment. “Do you believe that every decision we make along the way brings us to where we are?”
“What?”
“It’s something my father used to say.” He turned back toward Jessica. “He believed that every decision, no matter how remote it might seem, had to have happened in order for you to get to where you are at any moment in your life.”
“Is this like the butterfly wings making a tsunami on the other side of the world?” Jessica asked.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. I don’t know. I never really think about that kind of stuff. I’m more of a ‘minute by minute’ kind of girl.”
“Really? I can’t help but think of such things. What if I had never met Synda? What if I had never hooked up with Mack? What if you had never come across Synda’s hideout?”
“See, that’s why I don’t think about that stuff,” Jessica said. “It can drive you nuts. At the very least, it can get in the way of making snap decisions. I prefer to do what feels right at the time.”
“I think I do the same,” Tony explained. “I just think about it a lot afterward; that’s all.”
“Well stop it.” Jessica looked at her watch. “It’s time to go, anyway. We jump in thirty-five minutes, and we still have to suit up.”
Tony looked at Synda’s face one more time before he left. His eyes suddenly squinted together, and his head perked up as he realized what Jessica had said. “Suit up?”
* * *
“We’ll break the horizon and be on the Earth side of Jupiter in eleven minutes,” Ensign Schenker reported.
“If we don’t test it now, it will be another four hours before we get another opportunity,” Cameron told the lieutenant.
“I’m not entirely sure the targeting system will work properly,” Lieutenant Montgomery stated, “not without proper calibration.”
“Can it be aimed manually?” Luis asked from the tactical console. “It has a gun camera, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, of course…”
“Then I can point it at something and shoot.”
“The chances of hitting something with any level of precision using such methods is astronomical at best,” the lieutenant protested.
“We’re not going to be shooting at tiny targets, sir, just big ol’ honkin’ warships.”
Lieutenant Montgomery looked confused. “Honkin’?” He turned to Commander Taylor. “Commander…”
“Can it be manually aimed?”
“Yes, of course it can,” the lieutenant answered.
“Then point it out into space on a trajectory that will keep it hidden from Earth and fire a few test shots,” she ordered, “and do so in less than ten minutes, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Montgomery answered. He turned to the sensor operator. “Ensign Schenker, is there anything along the Commander’s requested firing angle that we could use as a target? Some debris, perhaps?”
“There’s plenty of debris from those two gunships still floating around. Give me a minute.”
Lieutenant Montgomery turned back to Commander Taylor. “A target will give us a better idea of how much the calibration of the targeting system might be off. We will not have time to make the adjustments and test fire again before we reach the Earth side of Jupiter, but I should be able to calculate the deviation and make the necessary adjustments during our Earth-side transit.”
“I have a target for you, Lieutenant,” Ensign Schenker reported. “It’s about the size of a small shuttle. Feeding the track to tactical now.”
Luis looked down at his tactical console as the track appeared on his tactical display. “Assigning target,” Luis reported.
“The weapon’s targeting computer will read the target’s speed and course data and adjust its aim accordingly,” the lieutenant explained.
“We have a target lock,” Luis reported. “Weapon is tracking the target. Weapon’s power is set at one percent.”
“You’re clear to fire when ready, Ensign,” Cameron said.
“Firing the weapon.” Luis pressed the button on his touch screen. The perimeter of the button flashed red, indicating that it had been activated. He looked up just in time to see a bolt of red plasma energy streak away from the aft, top edge of the view screen as it raced toward its target at nearly the speed of light.
“Clean miss,” Luis reported.
“By how much?” Cameron asked.
“At least five kilometers, sir,” Ensign Schenker reported from the sensor station.
Cameron sighed. “You can fix that, I’m assuming,” she said to the lieutenant.
“Of course. The important thing is that the weapon interfaced properly with the Celestia’s systems, and it did fire.”
“He’s right, sir,” Luis said. “That target is at least two hundred kilometers away, and it’s only about one hundred meters across. Put a Jung cruiser a few kilometers away from us, and we’d likely nail her. Maybe not exactly where we wanted, but we’d hit her nonetheless.”
“How much time is left?” Cameron asked her sensor operator.
“Eight minutes, thirty seconds,” the ensign responded.
“I’d sure love to see a full-power shot before then,” Cameron told the lieutenant.
“I’m sorry, sir, but that will not be possible,” Lieutenant Montgomery said. “It takes several minutes to run the diagnostics after each firing. Raising the power and firing again before the post-firing diagnostics have been completed would be a foolish risk.”
“We may be forced to use that weapon long before we get another chance to test fire it,” Cameron warned the lieutenant.
“I am confident the weapon will fire at full power without any problems, Commander,” the lieutenant stated with convicti
on. “However, regardless of my confidence in the weapon, I still would not recommend making such a shot until we have run proper diagnostics—unless, of course, we have no choice, which is not the case at the moment.”
“Very well,” Cameron agreed. “Do what you can, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Comms, contact the Aurora and report that our plasma cannon turret is tentatively operational,” Cameron ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Ensign Souza answered from the comm station.
Cameron looked at Lieutenant Commander Kovacic. “I hope we don’t have to use that thing any time soon.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I kind of hope we do,” the lieutenant commander admitted. “We’ve all spent the last two months watching the Jung take over our homeworld, Commander. I, for one, would love to fire at least one shot at the bastards.”
“Careful what you wish for, Lieutenant Commander,” Cameron warned.
* * *
Tony stood in the EVA prep compartment near the Aurora’s starboard cargo airlock. His arms were spread wide as technicians passed his life support vest over his head and onto his shoulders. “This is it?” he exclaimed, baffled by the seemingly light weight of the pressure suit he was wearing. “This is all I get to protect me in space?”
“What did you expect?” Jessica asked as technicians secured her life support vest.
“I don’t know. Something a little bulkier perhaps.” He pulled at his sleeve. “I mean, we’re going to be reentering the Earth’s atmosphere, right?”
“They’re fine,” Jessica assured him. She turned to the crew chief overseeing their jump prep. “Everything check out okay, Chief?”
“Yes, sir,” the chief answered. “I checked them over personally, sir.”
“Don’t I need a heat shield or something?” Tony wondered.
“It’s built into your jump rig,” Jessica explained.
Tony looked at Jessica’s suit. “Why is yours different than mine?”
“Yours is a Corinairan interceptor pilot’s pressure jump rig,” Jessica explained. “It’s more automated. It’s designed to bring an injured pilot all the way down safely, even if he’s unconscious.”
“And yours isn’t?”
“I’m wearing a Ghatazhak jump rig,” she told him. “Fully manual and no thermal shielding. It gets really hot in these, and I mean really fucking hot.”
“Then why don’t you just use one like mine?” Tony wondered.
“We’ve only got so many of them left,” she told him, “and we need them for our pilots.”
Tony nodded his understanding, then looked at his suit sleeves again. “It just doesn’t seem strong enough to be used as a spacesuit,” Tony complained as he tugged at the material.
“Well, technically, you’re not going to be in space for very long,” Jessica said.
Tony flinched as the technicians tightened up his life support vest and activated it. A cool sensation swept over him as the suit’s temperature control system chilled the water circulating through the thousands of tiny tubules throughout the suit. It was just enough to bring his body temperature down to a comfortable level. “Whoa, that was pretty cool, literally.”
“It runs both hot and cold,” Jessica told him, “whatever is needed. It works really well. I wish the Ghatazhak suits worked as well.”
“They do,” one of the technicians told her. “They just don’t fit you properly. Besides, the Ghatazhak are trained to tolerate temperature extremes.”
“Of course,” Jessica said to the Corinairan technician. “I almost forgot. By the way, remind me to smack Lieutenant Montgomery when I get back, will ya?”
The technician smiled. “Yes, sir.”
Tony followed the guidance of the technician and moved over, leaning up against a meter-tall apparatus attached to a wheeled stand that resembled an upright cart. The technicians began fastening him to the apparatus, wrapping straps over his shoulders, around his waist, and between his legs. “Is this like a parachute? It seems kind of big.”
“It’s more than just a parachute,” Jessica told him. “It’s actually a three stage system. On the bottom is the maneuvering system for steering in space, along with de-orbit thrusters. It also holds the thermal shield generator, which protects you during reentry. Then there’s the parachute system, which includes a drogue, a primary deceleration chute, and a main chute.”
“Where’s the backup chute?” Tony wondered.
Jessica laughed. “There is none.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. If your main doesn’t work, there’s not going to be enough time to open a reserve anyway.”
Tony looked confused again. “Why? If we’re jumping from space, there should be plenty of time, right?”
“You’ve heard of a HALO jump?” Jessica asked.
“That’s where they jump from really high up and open at a low altitude, right?”
“Well, this is a really high altitude, low open jump.”
“How low?”
“Better you didn’t think about that part,” she told him. “It’s all automated. Just let the auto-nav system take you all the way down. And remember to keep your knees bent when you land.”
Tony looked at Jessica. “Is it too late to change my mind?”
“Yup.” She leaned into the technician nearest her. “Make sure his auto-nav is set to give him a soft landing.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you sure this thing is going to work?” Tony asked.
“Trust me,” Jessica assured him. “They’re in perfect shape.”
Tony tried to stand with his entire jump rig now attached. “Jesus! This thing weighs a ton! How the hell are we supposed to walk in this thing?”
“We don’t,” Jessica said. “They wheel us into the cargo airlock, then they lower the artificial gravity so we can handle the extra bulk. It’ll feel like a day pack.”
The technician placed Tony’s helmet over his head and secured it to his neck collar. Tony heard a hiss of air and felt a gentle breeze blowing against the base of his neck as the helmet sealed up and became part of the life support system.
“Can you hear me?” a technician standing in front of him said through the comm-set in the helmet.
“Yeah, I can hear you.” Tony could hear his own voice reverberate within his helmet. “This is weird.”
“Yeah, it takes some getting used to,” Jessica’s voice said over the comms.
“I’m surprised,” Tony said. “I expected it to be stuffy in here, but it’s actually nice and cool.”
Jessica laughed. “Enjoy it while you can.”
* * *
“Line of sight with Earth in two minutes,” Mister Riley reported. “Jump point in ninety seconds.”
“Flight ops reports twenty Talons are stationed on the Celestia,” Naralena reported from the comm station. “Jump shuttle is in the Celestia’s bay as well and is ready for evac. Falcon is in position over Jupiter on lookout duty. Deck is now red.”
“Threat board?” Nathan asked.
“Jovian system shows clear, sir,” Mister Randeen reported from tactical.
“Set general quarters,” Nathan ordered calmly.
“General quarters, aye,” Naralena answered.
The lighting on the Aurora’s bridge dropped in intensity and took on an obviously red hue as the call to general quarters was heard throughout the ship. Nathan rotated his command chair around slowly as he watched his bridge crew prepare for action. Additional bridge officers took up positions at each of the auxiliary stations on either side of the bridge near the exits, ready to assist or take over any regular bridge station as needed. Additional security personnel showed up at the port and starboard entrances, han
ding heavier weapons to the guards already posted. Nathan scanned the various stations as he rotated full circle, watching as status lights on the various consoles turned green to indicate that the other departments in the ship showed ready.
“All stations report ready,” Naralena reported. “Ship is at general quarters.”
“Thirty seconds to first jump point,” Mister Riley reported.
“Jumpers are entering the starboard cargo airlock.”
Tony felt his body become lighter as the technicians rolled him into the Aurora’s starboard cargo airlock. “Whoa, you weren’t kidding. I feel like I just drove over a small hill at high speed.”
“Try to step off the platform,” the technician told him.
Tony stepped off the cart’s low platform and onto the deck of the airlock. “This is so strange.” He bounced up and down on his toes—only slightly at first—then jumped up a little higher. “Hey, this is great. You guys ever use this artificial gravity stuff to play basketball?”
“Take it easy,” Jessica warned. “I don’t want you falling over and breaking something before we even get out the door.”
“Yeah, right,” Tony said, standing firm.
“Are you good?” the technician next to Tony asked.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Very well. Good luck, sir.”
“Yeah, thanks.” The interior lighting in the airlock and the corridor suddenly turned pale blue. “Why did all the lights change color?”
“New protocol. All the lighting turns pale blue five seconds before we jump,” Jessica explained.
“We’re going to jump now?”
The lights reverted back to their normal, red-tinged hue. Jessica smiled. “We just did.”
“Closing inner airlock doors,” the Corinairan technician reported over the comms.
“Then we’re over Earth? Oh, shit!” Tony exclaimed.
“Calm down. We’re not there yet,” Jessica told him as the inner doors to the cargo airlock slammed shut.
