by MK Clark
Without warning, everything in the cockpit went black. The radio fuzzed into silence. “APRIL, I need a status report,” Don ordered impatiently. He heard nothing in response. His hands moved without conscious thought, flipping switches, pressing buttons. He hadn’t been hit; he was sure of it.
Then everything was back to life. The radio chatter was chaos.
“The hell―?”
“Can anyone hear―?”
“What was that?”
“Status report!”
“Check your bandits!”
Don scanned his radars, his heart pounding. “APRIL, locate Venom Two-Three,” he ordered as he searched for the two bandits they’d been following. Both had changed direction and seemed to be regrouping. It looked like they had been affected, too.
“Talon report! Two-Six, functional”
“Two-Seven, I’ve got a visual on you.”
Silence, then, “Two-Nine, target lost.”
“Two-Eight, do you copy?”
Silence again.
“Does anyone have a visual on X-Ray?”
A round of negatives followed Bauer’s query. Moose swore, and Kyomo took over.
“Venom, report. Two-Zero, pursuing target.”
“Two-One, I’m on your six.”
“Two-Three, locating bandits. Visual on Two-Four.”
“Two-Four, locked on to target.”
Lana didn’t wait to hear more. “Take him, General.”
“Roger that,” Don answered and made a sharp turn toward the bandits.
“Where’s your spacewalker, Lana?”
“Mina to all ships, the jump gate is now operational. The Eclipse, Kitty Hawk, Taliah, and the Mina will take up defensive positions. Captains, coordinate with your group. Make the jump ASAP. The Mina will jump last.”
“Venom Two-Zero to all fighters, regroup, switch channels, and jump when instructed.”
Don growled in frustration. His target was right in front of him. Just a few seconds more, and he would have him.
“Venom Two-Four, break off and regroup,” Lana ordered, and he complied.
“I could have got him,” he said to Lana once the others had switched from the main frequency.
“I know,” she told him. The absolute certainty in her voice brushed away some of the dissatisfaction that knotted in his chest. They made it back to the Mina, and Lana broke away to find her position with the Eclipse.
“Don’t get into trouble without me,” she said to him.
“Understood.”
“Lana, out.”
“O’Hara,” the captain’s voice called, “stay on this frequency.”
“Roger that,” Don answered and turned to face the direction he’d come. He scanned for the bandits he and Lana had left behind. Ships began to disappear from the radar. Two were headed toward him with all speed: his bandits. The rest of the enemies had caught on to what was happening and had begun to converge on the convoy. Don waited, unmoving.
“Enemy lock detected. Advising immediate course adjustment,” his APRIL warned.
Don ignored it. The two bandits were almost nearly on top of him now. He shot forward, directly at them, and they split to avoid collision. Don broke to the right. He aimed at the bandit. It was a point-blank shot to the side. He couldn’t miss. He didn’t.
“O’Hara, break down!”
Don responded immediately, but felt his Cobra jolt despite it. The second bandit whizzed past him. It turned and had Don back in its sights with amazing speed.
“Venom Two-Four, bandit on my six. Bringing him around.”
“Roger. We’ll try to pick him off.”
Don opened his thrusters to full and headed straight for the Mina. Moments later, he was forced to roll away to avoid a volley from behind. He broke out of it to the right; his pursuer followed seconds later in a wider turn. Fast but not agile: Don could work with that. He made another sharp turn, then shut off all aft thrusters, leaving the forward on full. His Cobra did a one-eighty; then he burst forward. The bandit sped past him, unable to copy the maneuver.
He made a pass by the Mina with seconds to spare, the bandit once again on his tail. The ship's guns turned the fighter away. Don took that time to glance back at his radar. The two larger ships were bearing down on the Mina. She stood as the only barrier for the remainder of the convoy. They passed through the gate as the Mina began to take hits.
He watched as his bandit was recovered into the Type C. It was two on one now, and the Mina was not facing the gate.
“O’Hara, recover. We’re going to make a run for it.”
“Negative, Captain. Make your turn. I’ll take a pass at the Type B to give you some time.”
“Not going to happen. Get your bird in the hatch.”
The Mina was on the move now, backing away, giving Don time to dock. Don nosed his Cobra around to the Mina’s belly.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said and sped out from under the ship, launching toward the enemy. He fired a missile to get their attention, and followed it with a volley of shots. It worked. He found himself in the middle of a bombardment. Close enough, he decided, knowing his Cobra couldn’t withstand much more. He made to circle around, shooting off two missiles as he went.
“Mina, I am coming home. Stand by for recovery.”
“Negative, O’Hara. Head straight for the gate and make the jump. Regroup two gates down.”
“Roger that, Captain. See you there.”
The Type C was ahead of him now, and the Mina just beyond that. The Mina was aimed for the gate, firing everything she had behind her. Don waited till he was right on top of the enemy before firing off his remaining missiles. He dropped two mines at the stern; not that they’d do much damage, but it might prove a small distraction and perhaps, enough time for the Mina to get through.
He overtook the Mina and prepared his Cobra to jump. “O’Hara, jumping,” he informed them, seconds before he left the battlefield far behind.
Chapter 21
July 21, 626 T.A.
An hour later, Don was only too happy leave the pressure of the A-Stream behind. His muscles were permanently tensed, fighting the gee-forces. He’d been right. The Cobra's gravity buffer could not fully negate the effects of the stream’s acceleration. He made a wide turn after passing through the second gate, taking a moment to scan the radar. He found the bandits just as Kyomo’s voice hailed him on the radio.
“Venom Two-Four, reporting,” he answered.
“What the hell did you think you were doing, O’Hara?” Lana this time. “I saw that stunt you pulled. I told you not to get yourself killed.”
Don grimaced. He’d hoped she wasn’t paying attention. “I didn’t get killed,” he replied innocently.
Lana swore at him, and Kyomo took up where she’d left off. “Have you run a system check?”
“Of course,” he said but did not surrender any more information. He’d taken a lot of damage. He knew he’d been reckless and had spent the last hour thinking about all that could have gone wrong.
“And―?”
“Wait,” Bauer interrupted, “where is the Mina?”
Don took a deep breath. “Behind me.”
“You didn’t jump together?”
“There wasn’t time. Captain Hendricks told me to go, but I swear they were right behind me.”
“So you didn’t actually see them make the jump.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Then you have no idea if they’re actually behind you or not.”
Don bit back a reply. They took his silence as a concession.
“We’ve got to give them some time.” Lana said, immediately grasping Don’s feelings.
“That isn’t the question,” Bauer said. “The question is, how much time do we give them?”
“For all we know, it’s not the Minathat will come through that gate next,” Eli added. “We’re one Cobra down―”
“So are we,” Lana growled, and Don held back a retort. None of
them were under any delusions about the state of his fighter.
“Okay, listen up―”
“Incoming,” Moose reported.
The conversation halted as their focus turned toward the gate. Don gave a shout as the ship appeared on his HUD. The Mina had finally made her appearance.
“That answers that.”
“I take it,” the captain’s voice spoke into their silence, “that you’ve been waiting.”
“Captain, are they following behind you?”
“No, lieutenant. Did you have a plan of action you would like to implement at this time?”
“I’d like a status report from the convoy, Captain. Let’s not spend any more time here than we must. Chip, Mickey, Preacher, General: I want you out of those fighters ASAP. From now on, we fly in teams of three. General, you’re grounded till further notice.”
Only Hendricks bothered to answer. The rest obeyed without response. None was needed. She had known they would obey.
Don's arms shook as he levered himself out of his Cobra. He let his knees fold the moment his feet touched the wing’s surface. He welcomed the silence in the small hangar, slowly forcing the tension from his body. There was a loud clank from behind him as his helmet hit the Cobra’s side.
Suddenly, it wasn’t just his arms that shook. His whole body began to tremble. He could feel it welling up below his breastbone, paralyzing him. It was what he had been trained to ignore, to forget. It was fear. And he could no longer avoid it. Don took a shuddering breath but did not try to still himself. He was content to sit until it passed.
Sometime later, he climbed down the ladder that led to the belly of the ship. The Mina had taken damage. He knew it even if he couldn’t see it. He headed for his bunk, unlatching his helmet as he went. He’d find Charlie; most likely, she could use another hand. Whatever repairs were to be made, they would have to be done quickly. There would be time for him to rest later. For now, he’d stay busy.
Charlie put him to work, as predicted. They hardly paused, only stopping hours later when the convoy re-entered the A-Stream. Then she put her foot down and expelled him from the room, suggesting that he should take this time to eat. Unsatisfied, Don found himself pacing the hall.
“You’re second-guessing yourself.”
The voice broke into Don’s thoughts. He turned to face Jillian.
“Don’t ever second guess yourself, O’Hara. It does not change what occurred.” He opened his mouth, and she cut him off. “No ifs, ands, or buts. Trust that you did the best job you could have done, no matter the outcome.”
Don nodded as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Although,” he started and then continued quickly when she moved to stop him. “You didn’t say I couldn’t say although.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him but let it be. Steering him down the hall, she said, “That was some good flying today, kiddo.”
Don snorted. “No, it wasn’t.”
“Anytime you come out of that cockpit alive, it was good flying. You did something right.”
“We didn’t all make it.”
A look of understanding flashed across her face.
He knew she was about to answer and he spoke again before she could. “It’s a part of our life,” he said with a shrug, “and X-Ray, he knew that.”
She made as if to speak, but then she hesitated. “Okay,” she finally said and let it be.
The convoy limped to the end of their journey without any more upsets. They arrived at the Baltimore far past when they were expected. The Achilles was already docked and waiting. Luckily for the pilots, the dreadnought had been delayed by a mix-up at the station.
The moment her feet hit the station’s deck, Kyomo was making arrangements with the Achilles’ captain and hangar chief. Don and the rest of the pilots waited together at a nearby food kiosk. They had strict instructions not to go far. Time was short, and they needed to be available to move when the order was given.
Thankfully, Charlie had spent some of her free time helping Don fix some of the damage to his fighter, so Yo-Yo had given him permission to fly his Cobra into the Achilles’ hangar rather than having it towed.
It wasn’t long till the order came. Only the captain was left on the Mina when Don went to retrieve his Cobra. Hendricks greeted Don at the door, and walked him to his Cobra. Don stopped at the bottom of the ladder and turned. “I want to thank you,” he said.
Hendricks gave him a curious look. “What for?”
Don let his shoulders rise in a small shrug. So much of it was too hard to name. “Everything,” he finally answered.
“Listen, Don,” Hendricks started and then stopped, almost as if he was debating on what to say. He cleared his throat and continued, “If you ever need help, I usually stick to the Dead Sea sector. Ask around there, and you’ll be able to track me down. That is,” he added jokingly, “if I’m not arrested for a report of conspiracy against the Council.”
Don held back a smile. “What’s there to report, Captain? The ramblings of an old man? I’m sure the Council would find it a waste of their time.” He was certain he saw a look of relief enter the older man’s eyes. “Besides,” Don said, “I think I understand now, at least a little.”
“Do you?”
Don was quiet for a long time. He thought about everything he had heard. He nodded slightly. “I think I do.”
“Good,” Hendricks answered. “Then you know at least a very little about who your mother really was.” He held out a hand, and Don took it.
On the Achilles, Don and his fellow pilots were hurried out of the way as soon as they landed. Their birds were swiftly moved off to the side and anchored down inside the belly of the massive ship. Nothing was asked of them, and they were grateful. Most of the pilots fell into an exhausted sleep.
Kyomo and Bauer excused themselves for a short period. They had been summoned to a meeting. Kyomo’s report on the anonymity of the ships they fought had caught the attention of a higher officer. The other pilots stirred only once, long enough to eat.
The journey to the outpost where they would rendezvous with the Morning Star was short, yet it was enough for them to recuperate. They were all awake and alert upon their arrival. They began to worry when Kyomo did not order them to depart. In fact, they realized, none of them knew where she was.
The group’s unease grew with Kyomo’s continued absence. Syke began to pace, mumbling quietly beneath his breath. Lana’s eyes followed him, gauging his changing mood.
Finally, Doncould stand it no longer, “Lana―” he started.
“I don’t know,” she answered sharply before he could finish, and then again softly, “I don’t know.” Her eyes flickered toward him. There was an apology there.
The minutes stretched once more, and Eli moved to sit beside Don. “Days like these almost make me wish I was back in Basic.”
Don laughed quietly. “Sure, Preacher, because everything was so straightforward there.”
“Ah,” he acknowledged with a nod. “True. I’d forgotten.”
“You forgot?”
The corners of his friend’s mouth twitched. In the same moment, the door to the room opened. One look, and Don was on his feet, as were the rest of the pilots. Their eyes locked on the mourning pin worn on Kyomo’s lapel. The white yew tree lay stark against her uniform. She stepped forward and laid seven more on the podium.
“The Morning Star?” Chip demanded with an urgency that held them in silence.
Kyomo shook her head. Chip sank back down into his chair. She stepped forward to lay a hand on his shoulder and looked up at the rest of them. “We will not be returning to the Morning Star.” Her voice was steady as she spoke, though her fingers showed white against her comrade’s uniform. “It has been reported that she and her crew went down yesterday, along with the Ventura and the Catalina. There were no survivors.”
All the pieces in Don’s head suddenly clicked together. “He knew, didn’t he?”
Kyomo nodded.
“Lauden,” she said, and then expounded as the others remained clearly confused. “The Achilles’ captain told me the Morning Star and other ships had received their orders days before the battle. Lauden must have, too; hence, he sent us away on our mission.”
“He’d want me as far away from the battle as possible,” Don added numbly.
“My god!” Moose exclaimed. “And we thought we had it bad!”
They all watched in shock as he began to laugh. The laughter turned hysterical as he laid his head in his hands.
“Moose?” Eli said tentatively. “C’mon, Moose, pull it together, man.”
There was no answer.
Chip stood abruptly and helped Moose to his feet. “Let’s go, Moose,” he said as he pulled the boy gently from the room.
Eli waited long enough for the door to shut before speaking again. “We’re finished, aren’t we?”
“What now?”
The question hung in the air.
“Things are changing,” Kyomo finally said. “Until we hear otherwise, we will take our orders from the Achilles. However, I wouldn’t be surprised if we were all reassigned separately.”
“But―”
“I won’t pretend that I like it, but that is most likely what will happen.” With that, Kyomo ended the conversation.
They spent the next few days waiting to hear what their fate would be. If Don had to describe the atmosphere surrounding them, he’d have summed it up in one word: horror. By the time they reached their next port, all of them had been given their orders. None of those orders were the same, and Moose had been suspended from flying.
Don walked the jetway to his new assignment empty-handed. Already, he knew, things would be very different. He straightened his shoulders, and a hard look entered his eyes. He would not be pushed around this time.
Chapter 21.5
February 30, 627 T.A.
“How is it coming, doctor?”
“We have had a setback.”
“Really? What kind of setback?”
