“Commander, I think you give yourself too much credit. Or far too little. You’re no machine; you’ve shown the capacity for empathy. Every leader in our profession has made decisions that have taken away a parent’s child. If all you wanted was revenge, it would have been done long ago, but you are meant for greater things,” he shook his head.
“How did it come to this? It doesn’t even seem real anymore.” I asked.
“We’re here because we were meant to be here. I wouldn’t worry about it more than that.” Jacobs responded. “We’re here because the Aquillians saw in us the same capacity for violence we used to show each other, and in a way their concern was not unfounded.” The doctor paused. “One way or another, here we, and billions of people are counting on us.”
He was right in an odd way. I wasn’t a monster but I was human. Staring back, I took a deep breath. “I will preserve humanity’s sovereignty over the galaxy. I will be victorious.”
Douglas’s eyes let out a slight glimmer and he smiled for the first time that day. “Now you’ve got it. That’s what I needed to hear. We will survive. We MUST survive!”
36
The remainder of the night I burned along with the rest of my squadron in the visitor’s barracks adjoining the north end of the complex. My crew chief dropped me off before turning in as well and I wasted none of my night hours. I had two nights of sleep to catch up on and less than five hours to do it. I don’t even remember falling on the mattress, just the chief’s fist pounding on the door with the early morning sunlight beginning to refract through the window. For a few moments I couldn’t decide whether I was awake or still sleeping. Eventually I pulled myself together and answered the door.
My crew chief was not alone. The rest of his detail stood behind him. To the left and right, every other member of the maintenance team was in identical formation in front of all of the pilot’s doors. “Commander,” he addressed me and saluted. “We have been instructed to show you one last item of interest.”
I looked out behind him. Familiar was the sight of the tram parked a few hundred feet from my door. “Where are we going?” I asked.
“Secondary prototyping hangar on the other side of the mountain. It is connected via a tunnel to the SR’s building but we’ve been instructed to stay on the surface road.”
“What’s up there?”
“I’ve been instructed to allow you to see for yourself, but it’s the area where the larger ships were constructed. I’ll let you extrapolate from there,” he said with a sly smile, then turned it back to serious. “The Wing Commander, Dr. Jacobs and most of the staff are already waiting.” I had set nothing down in the room so I was content to close the door behind me and be on my way.
The road the tram followed took us up a gentle slope through the foothills of the mountain range. When we were nearing the crest of the hill, I stood for a second and looked back down at the base, spread out behind us with the main factory and runway in the foreground and the dim outline of Space Corps Headquarters in the distance, still obscured by some early morning haze.
I switched my gaze to our approaching destination when something new caught my eye. We were rolling towards another runway on the desert floor, surrounded on several sides by more rolling hills and mountains, most of which were equipped with vaulted or regular hangar doors. I ventured to guess that this was the secondary facility my crew chief had mentioned. Parked on the runway before us was our gunboat, fresh and clean after what looked to be a thorough maintenance cycle. Beyond the gunboat however, I saw one more thing to take my breath away.
Standing nose-to-nose with our gunboat was another ship, maybe thirty percent larger all around, bristling with cannons and weapons, and wrapped in what looked to be enough armor for a trip through hell. I had never seen anything remotely like it anywhere in the Corps’ inventory.
As we drove closer I got a new appreciation of their scale. When standing on board one of the gunboats or frigates in deep space, their sheer immensity is lost in the infinite vastness of the cosmos. Not so back on earth where a human’s brain is far more acute at pointing out to the owner an ungodly huge man-made object sitting only a few hundred yards in front of you.
A long ramp extended from under the fuselage all the way to the runway below. It dwarfed the few figures standing nearby and I guessed it was easily big enough to load a SR fighter. When we got closer I could clearly see Jacobs break away from his group and wave us over. We halted in front of the ramp beside one of two massive landing gears, which by themselves towered over us.
Before I could stand or even speak, Jacobs was onboard the tram with us. “Commander, good to see you up and about so early! As you can see, I have one more present for you!” He spoke with the energy of someone half his age, someone who had actually gotten more than a smidgeon of rest the night before. I began to wonder if he ever slept at all.
He could see I was without words so began again. “This is the next generation assault gunboat, developed concurrently with the SR-2. Designed for combat insertions far behind enemy lines, it is the ideal platform to carry the SR-2 into battle.” Jacobs leaned over to the driver. “Take us around the perimeter. I’ve got a few details to discuss with the squadron.”
Turning back to us, Jacobs continued on. “This ship is the first human-made craft to incorporate extraterrestrial technology. Several principles were discovered, when we first made contact with the aliens, which allowed us to more than double the engine’s output power and reduce the armor’s weight by more than 60 percent.”
He gestured to several long slits along the body beneath the bridge. “As you can see, we’ve extended the length of the landing bay to accommodate more fighter spacecraft. If correctly configured, it could safely house one hundred ships, all of their support equipment and staff, and be able to launch them all simultaneously.”
As we continued the arc around the runway we passed under the port wing. At least a dozen massive deck cannons hung from the lower surface and I could see the ends of at least a dozen more on the top. “How is it armed?”
“Similar to the original gunboat. The main guns are the same, but we packed more on board. With the extra weight allowance and additional generated power we doubled the number on the wings and made the suppression cannons in the hull charge four times faster,” he paused again. “Please don’t take this to mean that I consider one ship superior to another, especially in your case. The gunboats are enough for patrols, transportation, and small attacks. Hopefully it won’t need to fire a shot under your command.”
“What makes you say that?” one of the other pilots seated behind me asked.
“Its weapons are too short-ranged to be used for planetary bombardment, so there’s one. Plus, if it comes under attack without your wing to defend it, you’ll be S.O.L, cut off, and unable to rendezvous with the fleet from such a deep position.” Doug looked back between us. “Any other questions?”
“How soon can we launch?”
37
I spent the rest of the day preparing for our jump back over to Sol Charlie. The experimental gunboat’s landing bay was completely cleared out and we flew the fighters in to dock. Even with the boat’s massive bay, I felt somewhat claustrophobic flying in such a small space. That all changed when I slid into place and felt the wing clamps take over.
All around me the other ships landed in similar fashion. I waited for them at the top of the main loading ramp which stretched out almost half the length of the ship. Out the end under the nose, I could see the shadow of the old gunboat waiting for us. As the rest of my crew powered down their ships and disembarked, I waved them over to my position. When everyone was back we made the trip back outside to retrieve our supplies.
Jacobs suggested we plan for 6 months of provisions. I agreed since I didn’t know how long we would be lasting out there and I certainly didn’t want to be the one either starving to death, or ready to cut and run. Plus, once we got in place, it was unlikely we would be getting
out before the war was over. I also ordered up battle rifles for all of the pilots, along with 50k rounds of ammunition with support explosives and the like on the side.
I authorized no personal belongings on the craft. I didn’t get as much push-back as I thought I would, but it made sense. Most of my men carried nothing with them, as did I. We had our flight suits, weapons, survival gear, some standard issue odds and ends and that was about all. I did order every man to take with them their service coat that was worn two days prior at my ceremony. They were the one small tie to the rest of the fleet and to earth.
I carried all of my equipment on board in one trip: my rifle across my back, my coat on a hangar hooked to the strap, and the rest of my gear stuffed in a pack on my back. Our bunks were placed along the edges of the main cargo bay so there would be less slack time in reaching our ships. Pallets were stacked high all down the center loaded with our supplies.
I set my box down at the foot of my bed and hung the coat on a hook attached to the wall. I remember looking at that small space and thinking “So it has come to this. How did the actions of my life bring me here?” I didn’t spend much time in contemplation. Since I was more or less moved in, I went back to Jacobs to update him on our plan. He gave it his blessing, and left us to our devices.
We lifted off at sunset. There was no great fanfare, no goodbyes. We had no one left. There was no room on the ship for that kind of weakness. Fear gripped some of them slightly as we lifted off. A look of sadness briefly filled their faces as we left the ground and the red sunset gave way to darkness.
I watched their fear leave along with the sunshine. I kept a constant vigil across the wing as we soared into the night. One by one they bowed their heads in sadness and they rose again without as much as a tear. They were focused and ready. I had no doubt in their ability.
Once we began our hyperspace jumps, I ran everyone into the ground in the landing bay. We moved out a number of our supply crates and stacked them to construct a makeshift obstacle course, which we ran over and over again. After a few hours of sprinting, climbing, and tactical drills, everyone was nearing exhaustion. All in all, it served its purpose to get everyone even more focused than before, as well as burn off whatever energy they had built up over the time on earth.
We met every ‘day’ for drill in the landing bay. The rest of our days were filled with tactical assessments of enemy strength, discussions of fighter strategy, and preparing our ships for the battle ahead. On the last day, every fighter was ready for launch.
All the fuel cells and batteries were recharged. Each of the weapons was tested multiple times and armed with all the rounds they could hold. Every surface was cleaned and polished. All of the communication systems were fine tuned for our environment. More symbolically than anything else, we sat down for our last meal together before the final jump.
I clearly remember standing on the bridge as we lined up for the last jump. Sol Bravo was hardly larger than the rest of the stars in the vicinity, but it was thousands of times closer. The entire view rotated ever so slowly outside as the computer loaded up the coordinates letting an eerie calm sweep across the room. The navigation system finished its calculation and waited for the pilot’s input. He looked over at me for confirmation and I nodded ever so slightly. He pushed the button and the engines immediately responded, rocking the ship forward one last time. As we gained speed, a cone of plasma began to build up on the shields, giving the view outside a slightly colored glow. It might have only been an illusion, but one could almost see specks of starlight through the buildup, each of the rocks changing their orientations as we rocketed past. A timer on the pilot’s display began to count down. We had just less than 48 minutes to go.
With everything under control on the bridge, I donned my armored flight suit and joined the rest of the wing in the hangar. They were already waiting for me. I didn’t waste my breath on enthusiastic speeches. I shook everyone’s hands, thanked them for joining me and reminded them that if we lost the battle, no one would be flying home a loser.
“Flight commanders, move out. Everyone load up. We must be ready to launch as soon as we get through the debris field.”
We split and moved to our respective ships. The SR-X glared down at me from its position at the front of the hangar, like a dragon before its prey. My crew chief saluted me as I approached and I returned. “Ready to fly, Sir,” he stated.
“Thank you.” I responded, shaking his hand. “Be ready for when we return. I’ll have some work to be done.”
“I have no doubt,” he answered as I turned and ascended the thin set of rope/metal steps that were deployed from the left side of the fuselage. It was a longer distance than I remembered from before. Standing on the top of the body I saw the rest of my men getting into position as well. Between the main pair of cannons the glass windscreen was already deployed open, waiting for my arrival.
I dropped down and took my seat in the deep cockpit, immediately spying my helmet staring back at me from the instrument panel. I closed my eyes for a moment and took a last breath of relatively fresh air before seating the mask over my face. Cool air flowed out and I looked out through the face shield. Various statistics from the ship were displayed as holographs in the screen. Everything was still green. The glass came down next, sealing me in. I could feel it shut and lock, like a key to a reinforced blast door. Or a tomb.
In the final seconds, I flipped the engines to standby and allowed my fingers to flex before they became grafted to the controls. With that, we were ready.
The timer clicked to zero and she ship shuddered as it entered back into real space. Barely a second passed before the hangar bay doors opened to either side, displaying a new set of stars and debris hurtling by. I could hear the status from the pilot upstairs through my radio. Everything was still green. No sooner did he speak before the ship began to rock back and forth violently as we began to navigate the asteroid field. We had come out of the jump only a few kilos from the field’s outer edge. The dust swirling outside quickly grew to be massive boulders and jagged chunks of ice larger than our ship.
The copilot updated us on the progress every few seconds as they continued. Almost as quick as it had started, we were in the clear, in the relative calm of the inner system. “We made it!” The copilot announced. “We made it through!”
“Any enemy activity?” I shot back.
“None, sir. All passive systems are negative. Nothing is tracking us.”
“Our course?”
“Clear, no alien ships appear in our path.”
“Then we’re on track. Make for close solar orbit.”
“Yes sir.” Both the pilot and copilot responded in unison. I could hear an alarm blare in the background. The radio went silent for a moment. “Commander, we are picking up a few stray radio waves. It’s possible that they’ve got a lock on us.”
“It’s too late to turn back now.” I stated. “Put a full burn on the engines. Get us in position as fast as you can. If they know we’re coming, then we’re not giving them the chance to mount a defense.”
There were several more bursts of radio waves, again indicating we might have been tracked, but we could detect no ships moving to pursue us.
It only took a few minutes to reach the star. I stayed silent for the remainder of the trip and watched the plot of our course move about on my display. The gravity field changed as we moved in for our orbit.
“One minute to launch point.” The pilot announced.
“Wing, prepare to launch.” I keyed my radio to the entire group, “All men, start your engines.”
“I’ve got the body of the ship between the doors and the star.” The pilot advised me. “Put full tint on your visors or you’ll be blinded instantly.”
The last update came from the bridge. The planet Horus was in sight. “This is it. Launch on my mark.” I watched our progress continue on my display. When we had a good angle, I gave the order. “Mark! All fighters launch!” One button pres
sed, and my ship detached from the floor. My engines roared to life and we were flung into the blazing sunlight. Even with the visor tinted, it took my eyes a few moments to adjust to the massive sphere of light that took up half the sky.
The rest of the wing launched along with me and formed up behind me as I led the way to the first planet. My sensor package found a number of orbiting alien ships, cataloged them and parsed the surface with a grid and target coordinates.
“Delta Squadron, engage orbiting targets.” I paused as the computer optimized our path around the planet. I realized we would not be able to hit them all while formed up. “Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, we’re splitting into flights. Three craft per run, we don’t have the time to do these in sequence.” I rattled off the paths that were named by the computer, along with the flights I assigned to each.
Our formation broke as I cut sharply to the side, letting Delta blow by me at full speed. From the corner of my eye I could just make out the flash of their weapons firing.
Over my radio I heard their flight commander issue his orders. “Heavy shields are engaged on the first target. Switch to medium cannon and ion charges. Drop nukes on my command once the shield is breached. Everyone watch for enemy fighters. Sure as ever we’ll catch them launching.” Static filled the radio. “There they are, at least twenty coming from the surface,” he paused. “They’re coming at us. Fire Team Three, take them out. One and Two, follow me, we’ll take the shields.”
As Delta engaged the alien ships, I pulled those remaining with me into a tight orbit, dropping the flights off one by one as we neared their individual starting points. When Alpha had followed me all the way to the far side and had made their drop, completing my map of the surface, I at long last dove in with my command flight of four. The ground approached fast through the wisp of an atmosphere and soon I could make out fine details and features on the blasted surface below.
MissionSRX: Confessions of the First War Page 29
