by Ryk Brown
“Depressurizing airlock,” the technician reported.
“First we jump out to a maneuvering point and change course so we can get a proper insertion angle. Then we jump to Earth.”
“Jumpers, Comms,” Naralena called over their helmet comms. “Insertion jump point in thirty seconds.”
“Fuck,” Tony mumbled. “No one is ever going to believe I did this. I don’t even believe I’m about to do this.”
Jessica grinned. “You want me to take a picture of you on the way down?”
“Nash, Captain,” Nathan called over the comms.
“Nash, go ahead.”
“Keep it simple, Jess. Keep a low profile, plug into the net, and make contact as quickly as you can. And don’t forget to maintain your comm appointments.”
“Don’t worry, Skipper. We got this.”
“Good luck.”
“How are you so calm?” Tony wondered.
“Like I said, this ain’t my first jump,” Jessica told him.
“So you’re not even a little bit scared?”
“Hell no, I’m a lot scared.” She smiled from inside her helmet. “Feels great, doesn’t it?”
The lighting in the airlock turned pale blue.
“Just remember, when I head for the exit, so do you. Follow me right out the hatch and jump off into space. Your momentum will carry you away from the ship, and your auto-nav will take care of the rest.”
“What do I do if the auto-nav doesn’t work?”
“It’ll work. One more thing,” she said as she grabbed Tony’s left forearm and raised it slightly, “no comms on the way down.” She smiled and pressed a button on his wrist-mounted control unit.
Tony heard a small click in his helmet. He looked at Jessica. Her lips were moving, but all he heard was his own breathing.
The pale blue lighting in the airlock suddenly changed to the red-tinged hue. The outer hatch at the far end of the airlock silently rose into the ceiling, revealing a four-meter-long tunnel the same height and width as the airlock. At the end of the tunnel, the outer door had already opened.
Tony’s breath quickened and his pulse raced as the inner doors raised and revealed the Earth rotating below them. The light reflecting off the planet filled the tunnel and the airlock. Tony had seen pictures of the Earth from orbit, but they did not have the effect he felt in that instant. Space had just been a concept to him up until this very moment.
Tony felt Jessica touch his left shoulder. He turned slightly to see her. She was leaning forward and nudging him to go. He did the same. He leaned forward and ran clumsily across the airlock and down the tunnel, doing his best to keep up with his far more experienced partner. He watched her as he ran slightly behind and to her right, seeing her run right off the end of the tunnel and out into space. Tony felt himself losing his balance, starting to fall to his left. Two steps later, he found himself floating in space and rotating slowly to his right.
The view of the Aurora began to fill his visor, moving across his field of vision from right to left as he continued to rotate. She was massive with smooth, flowing curves and purposeful grooves and indentations. She had multiple scars and even chunks of hull missing from recent battles, but she looked as strong as could be as she moved away from them.
Something in his backpack hissed. Tony felt himself spin around sharply. Another hiss stopped his rotation, and he found himself looking at Jessica who was floating a few meters in front of him and to his left. Small squirts of gas shot out of points on her backpack, causing her to flip head over heels. He could see her face through her clear visor. She smiled at him and waved. Then his own backpack hissed, and he, too, flipped over.
He felt something hit him from behind. It was like someone had swung a baseball bat and struck him hard in the back. “Fuck!” he cried out. There was a low rumbling sound that vibrated throughout his entire body. He remembered Jessica’s description of the sequences of a space jump. “De-orbit burn. It’s just a de-orbit burn,” he said to himself. He tried to remain calm, taking solace in the knowledge that, thus far, his auto-nav system appeared to be working. Then he remembered what the de-orbit burn was for… It was to start his reentry.
“Jumpers have started their reentry burn,” Mister Navashee reported from the sensor station.
“Keep an eye on them,” Nathan ordered. “I want to know when they touch down.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Threat board?” Nathan inquired.
“No contacts to report.”
“Odd,” Nathan said, “they still have eight ships in the system. You’d think they would have them at least somewhat spread out around the world they’re trying to hold.”
“They could have jumped out to take another run at the Celestia,” Mister Randeen suggested.
“Possible. If that’s the case, the Falcon will let us know.”
“Jumpers’ de-orbit burn has completed. They’ll hit atmospheric interface in three minutes,” Mister Navashee reported.
“Very well.”
“Captain,” Mister Navashee added, “I’m picking up multiple surface contacts. Transferring to tactical.”
“They’re interceptors, sir,” Mister Randeen announced. “Eight, ten, twelve. Twelve interceptors are airborne and climbing quickly.”
“Are they headed for us or the jumpers?” Nathan wondered, concern creeping into his voice.
“Their course and speed indicate they are on an intercept vector for us, Captain,” Mister Randeen said. “ETA to intercept is five minutes.”
“Until the jumpers hit the atmosphere, they won’t even be noticeable,” Mister Navashee assured the captain.
“Let’s get some altitude, Mister Chiles,” Nathan ordered.
“Aye, sir. Accelerating to higher orbit.”
“New ETA for inbound interceptors at current rate of acceleration is six minutes, twenty seconds,” Mister Randeen reported.
“Very well.”
“New contacts,” Mister Navashee reported, “just over the horizon.”
“Three contacts:” Mister Randeen added, “two frigates and a cruiser. They’re running counter orbit and climbing. They mean to intercept us as we climb, sir.”
“Mister Riley, new jump plot. I want to be well behind and slightly above those targets but still within plasma torpedo range.”
“Aye, sir. Plotting jump.”
“Receiving new heading for jump,” Mister Chiles reported from the helm. “Coming to new heading now.”
“Jump plotted. Ten seconds to jump point.”
“Targets have raised their shields, Captain,” Mister Navashee reported.
“Stand by on forward plasma torpedoes, Mister Randeen.”
“Forward plasma torpedoes standing by.”
“Helm, as soon as we come out of the jump, kill the mains and flip over to bring our tubes to bear on the cruiser first. We’ll fire three pairs of plasma torpedoes,” Nathan explained, “first on the cruiser, then on the two frigates. That’ll have you swinging the nose from left to right, nice and neat.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Five seconds to jump,” Mister Riley reported. “Four…”
“Contacts!” Mister Navashee reported.
“Three…”
“Frigates are firing missiles.”
“Two…”
“Eight missiles inbound, four from each frigate,” Mister Randeen announced.
“One…”
“Time to impact…”
“Jump.”
The jump flash flooded the bridge with light momentarily.
“Jump complete,” Mister Riley reported.
“Killing mains and pitching over,” the helmsman announced.
Nathan watched the view
screen as the Earth rose from the bottom and filled their view. Seconds later, the Earth hovered above them, and they could see the glowing engines of the three Jung ships as they sped away from them.
“Fire when ready, Mister Randeen.”
“Firing solution on the cruiser. Firing one and three.”
Bolts of plasma energy streaked past them on the view screen, passing on either side as they traversed the distance between the Aurora and the Jung ships in the blink of an eye.
“Bringing the nose slightly to starboard,” Mister Chiles announced.
Two blinding flashes of light shown momentarily as the plasma torpedoes struck the Jung cruiser’s shields.
“Direct hits,” Mister Navashee reported. “No damage noted. Minor weakening of their aft shields.”
“Just put our nose between the frigates,” Mister Randeen stated from the tactical station. “At this range, I can still angle the tubes onto the target.”
Mister Chiles glanced over his shoulder at Captain Scott, who nodded his approval. “Our nose is pointed between the frigates.”
“Locking on the first frigate,” Mister Randeen announced. “Firing one and three.”
Two more plasma torpedoes streaked away from the Aurora.
“Retargeting.”
“Single hit,” Mister Navashee reported. “Target two’s aft shields are down.”
“Locking on target three.”
“I guess the cruisers have better shields,” Nathan said.
“Firing one and three on target three,” Mister Randeen announced.
“Two hits!” Mister Navashee reported. “Target three has lost all aft shielding, and one of her main engines is down.”
“All ships are taking evasive maneuvers,” Mister Randeen announced.
“New contact!” Mister Navashee called out. “Dead ahead, just coming over the horizon.”
“It’s a battleship, sir!” Mister Randeen reported. “She’s not accelerating though. She’s just maintaining her standard orbit.”
“She doesn’t need to,” Nathan said, “not with all her guns and missiles. Helm, pitch back over to standard flight attitude.”
“Pitching over to normal attitude, aye.”
“New contacts,” Mister Navashee added. “Coming over the horizon as well! It’s their spaceport, Captain. There’s a cruiser docked there as well. Looks like she’s undergoing repairs. She’s only showing minimal internal power.”
“What side is the cruiser on?” Nathan asked.
“Topside,” Mister Navashee reported. “The spaceport is between the cruiser and the Earth.”
“Perfect,” Nathan said. “New jump plot. Put us past the battleship and almost to the spaceport on a track to pass five hundred meters above the spaceport.”
“Plotting jump, aye,” Mister Riley answered.
“Deploy the quads, Mister Randeen,” Nathan ordered. “Target will be that cruiser.”
“No plasma torpedoes?” Mister Randeen asked.
“I’m not looking to take out the spaceport just yet, Mister Randeen. However, feel free to send a few plasma shots toward that battleship before we jump.”
Mister Randeen smiled. “Aye, sir. Targeting the battleship.”
“New jump plotted,” Mister Riley reported. “Jump point in ten seconds.”
“Mister Chiles, as soon as we jump, roll over to bring our quads onto the target before we pass over her,” Nathan ordered. “Mister Navashee, how are our jumpers?” Nathan asked.
“Jumpers will hit the atmosphere in fifteen seconds.”
“I’ve got a lock on the battleship,” Mister Randeen announced from the tactical station.
“Jumping in five…”
“Firing one and three.”
“Four…”
Two more plasma shots streaked away from the Aurora.
“Three…”
“Direct hits…” Mister Navashee reported.
“Two…”
“No damage. Their shields are holding.”
“One…”
“I guess we know who has the best shields then,” Nathan muttered to himself.
“Jumping.”
“Rolling to port,” Mister Chiles announced from the helm as the jump flash subsided.
“Jump complete.”
“Locking all quads on the cruiser!” Mister Randeen reported.
Nathan watched as the distant group of troop ships that formed the Jung’s makeshift spaceport moved around the left perimeter of the view screen until they came to rest in the upper middle section.
“Roll complete,” the helmsman reported.
“The cruiser is trying to power up,” Mister Navashee announced.
“She’s trying to get her shields up,” Nathan said.
“Quads are locked on target,” Mister Randeen announced.
“Fire quads,” Nathan ordered.
“Firing quads,” Mister Randeen answered.
“Zoom in on the target,” Nathan ordered. The image of the Jung spaceport immediately grew in size until it filled the view screen. The damaged cruiser was docked to the spaceport’s topside, just as expected. Massive rail gun slugs from the Aurora’s quad rail guns began pounding the helpless cruiser, tearing into her already damaged upper hull just forward of her main propulsion systems. Chunks of her hull flew in all directions as the kinetic energy of the rail gun rounds walked forward. Eventually, they found an already existing breach in the cruiser’s hull and tore deeper inside. Secondary explosions flashed from inside the cruiser’s hull, and she broke in two just aft of her mid-ship line.
“New contacts!” Mister Navashee announced. “The battleship is firing missiles.”
“Eight missiles inbound!” Mister Randeen reported. “Impact in one minute.”
“Our jumpers?” Nathan asked.
“They’re in reentry now,” Mister Navashee reported. “They’ll be through in two minutes.”
“What about those interceptors?”
“They’ve aborted, sir. They appear to be returning to base.”
“Escape jump, Mister Riley,” Nathan ordered. “That should be enough to keep them busy for the moment.”
* * *
Tony’s heart was racing, his breathing rapid and shallow. He tried not to look at the temperature readout on the inside of his now opaque visor, but the numbers kept catching his eye… and they always seemed to be going up. He was so hot. He was sweating, and he now realized why Jessica had made him drink so much water before they suited up.
The sound of the steadily thickening air rushing past his helmet was deafening. The vibrations reverberated throughout his suit and right down to his bones. He wanted so badly to call out to Jessica, to seek reassurance that everything was all right, that he was going to survive. He was beginning to understand why she had turned off his comms just before they exited the Aurora.
Finally, the internal temperature readout stopped climbing. It hovered at sixty-two degrees Celsius. He could feel the water surging through his suit as it struggled to keep him from roasting alive as he fell. After another minute, the temperature readout began to decrease. The sound of the air passing over him had lessened as well and was no longer rattling his very bones.
Tony’s visor suddenly become clear once again. It was dark outside. He could see the faint images of clouds far below him, lit only by the dim light of the Earth’s waning moon. He looked at the altitude readout on the inside of his visor. He was passing twenty thousand kilometers. He didn’t want to look at his speed.
He remembered what Jessica had told him about spreading his arms and legs, about trying to remain parallel to the planet below to help slow his rate of descent. He forced his arms and legs outward, pressing with all his
might against the air rushing over him. He felt his body start to pitch upward, and soon he had managed to get his body perpendicular to his angle of descent.
Tony could now look around more easily. He looked around for Jessica but could not find her. He wondered if she was ahead of him or behind him. Could she be off course? What if something happened to her? Even if his auto-nav functioned properly, would he be able to make contact with the resistance without her? If he did, would they even believe his claims?
A glimmer of light to his left caught Tony’s eye. The glimmer repeated several times, each time becoming brighter… or perhaps closer. He watched as the flashes grew closer. Something was coming toward him. The flashes of light were reflections of moonlight off of something.
The flashes of reflected moonlight quickly morphed into the darkened shape of something larger, something human. As it grew even closer, he realized it was Jessica. An enormous surge of relief washed over him as she coasted up next to him. She used her arms and legs in expert fashion to steer herself through the atmosphere as she fell. Her head turned toward him, and the lighting inside her visor clicked on, bathing her smiling face in pale, amber light. She flashed him a thumbs-up, then maneuvered out again, moving just far away enough to avoid accidents, yet close enough that he could still see her.
Several minutes passed as Tony continued to fall. He passed through several layers of clouds. His muscles tired from holding his arms and legs outstretched against the rushing wind. Several times he lost control and began to roll or tumble. More than once, he thought he might not regain control. Then, after regaining control of his body’s attitude for the fourth time, a long, black cloth began to deploy from Jessica’s backpack far off to his left, and she began to rise up above Tony and out of his line of sight. Her drogue chute has deployed, he realized. His next thought was, Why hasn’t mine?
A light flashed inside his visor, and he felt a pop from behind his head. A loud rumble began from behind him, and he felt as if someone were pulling on him from behind. Is that my drogue? he wondered. A moment later, his question was answered.
