The Resistance- The Complete Series

by Nathan Hystad

  Commander Banks sat back, admonished, and shook his head slowly.

  “Good. Now that we’re on the same page, let’s discuss what happens when we arrive at their world.”

  Ace was optimistic about what was to come. It was going to be deadly and daring, not quite the reasons he’d joined Earth Fleet in the first place. He’d only wanted a bed to rest his head in the evenings, and food on his plate, but it had led him somewhere far different. He didn’t care. He was going to help save humanity.

  21

  Flint

  A lot had happened in the last month, and Flint found himself wanting to doze off at his station on the bridge. He glanced over to the seat beside him, half expecting to find Kat there, but she was gone, stuck down below on the world they were still orbiting.

  Junior Lieutenant Mark Foggle looked back at him, probably wondering why the pilot was gawking with dreamy eyes. Flint broke the gaze and blinked repeatedly, trying to push the tiredness from them.

  “Lieutenant Lancaster, please start the Shift drive,” Captain Barkley said from her seat behind them.

  “Initializing the Shift drive now, Captain.” Flint issued the commands through the console. The drive’s icon glowed for a split second before turning red. It had failed. “Captain, something’s wrong. The drive isn’t charging.”

  Captain Barkley was quickly over his shoulder, her warm breath hitting his face as she leaned in behind him. “What’s the issue?”

  Flint had no idea and told her so.

  “Try it again,” she ordered.

  He went through the same motions, the process ending with the same result.

  Flint peered back just in time to see Captain Barkley gasp. “How was I so stupid to not see this?”

  “See what?” Tsang asked from across the bridge.

  “Benson. Benson fried something on his way out. How did Jarden trust that man for so many years?” Captain Barkley used Flint’s console to tap a line open to Engineering. “Chief Engineer Tomas, are you there?”

  “Tomas here,” the man’s light voice said.

  “We’re having some issues with the Shift drive. Can you shed some light?” Captain Barkley didn’t hide the urgent emphasis from her tone.

  “Everything looks fine here. The system shows all is in check. Let me just… oh my,” he finished, droning off into nothing.

  “What is it?” Flint asked.

  “I see it now. I had no reason to dig before. Someone put a veneer over the program to make it appear functional. As soon as I dug into it, it was blatantly obvious. Who’s been in my system, messing with the Shift drive?” Tomas asked.

  “We’ll be right there to discuss that. I’d rather talk person to person.” Captain Barkley ended the communication and pointed to Flint. “Come with me, please.”

  Two hours later, Flint sat with Charles and Chief Engineer Tomas in the latter’s office within the wide-open engineering room. His head ached, and he was unfamiliar with most of what they were discussing. The end result was that the Shift drive was down and would take some time to be repaired.

  “You have two months, max, to get this done,” Flint told the man. He truly didn’t know if the chief engineer’s first or last name was Tomas, and he thought it was too late to ask.

  “And who are you to tell me how long I have?” the man asked, his hackles raised defensively. Captain Barkley had left an hour ago, reiterating how important getting the Shift drive activated was.

  Flint raised his hands up and kicked his favorite boots up onto the table. “Tomas, we’re on the same side. I know this stuff is complicated and new to humans, but if we want to win the war back home, we need this to be done in two months.”

  Flint knew they had a little more time than that. Truthfully, it could be much longer, but he didn’t want to press the timeline. If they missed the Rift opening, they’d be stuck behind enemy lines for another year, which meant thirty more years would pass back home. They couldn’t let that happen, and he told the engineer as much.

  “I see your point. We’ll get it done on time. I’ll reach out to the team on the Pilgrim as well. They have some brilliant people on board, and every bit will help,” Tomas said.

  “Sir, would you mind if I joined you in the near future?” Charles asked the Chief Engineer. “I’ve recently finished helping on the simulator project, and since it’s come to a close, I find myself without a routine once again.”

  Tomas grinned at this. “I’d be happy to have you on the team, Charles. Thank you.”

  Flint was always amazed at how quickly everyone took to Charles, treating him like one of their own, even though he was made of metal.

  “Good idea, buddy. You’re in demand these days. I hope Wren doesn’t mind you leaving her team so soon,” Flint said.

  “We’re done for the time being. She will always be able to contact me for assistance should she need it,” Charles answered.

  “I know. I was just kidding with you. If you don’t mind, I have somewhere to be.” Flint stood up, feeling the lethargy of his exhausted body. He wanted nothing more than to head back to his quarters and sleep, but he had one more stop before his day was over.

  Wren

  Wren spotted Flint the moment he stepped into the galley. He didn’t have his carefree swagger step and grin going on. Instead, he looked five years older, ready to drop on his feet. He’d changed out of his uniform and seemed happy to be in pants and a black t-shirt, probably letting him feel like something other than an overworked Fleet bridge crew member.

  “That bad, huh?” Wren asked. They’d started a routine of once-a-week drinks in the galley. They tried to avoid discussing their imminent battle, viruses, or the genocide of an alien race. Usually, it was something to do to break the monotony of their day-to-day.

  Now that they had some details on the world, Wren was endlessly running scenarios, trying to find the most effective locations to release the deadly outbreak upon the Watchers. It took up her days, making them roll into one another with ease.

  “You have no idea. The Shift drive’s down,” he whispered as he sat in the usual spot. The galley was quiet at this hour. Most people were finishing their twelve-hour shifts and heading to their quarters for rest. The others were starting their shifts, leaving this spot unusually private.

  Wren didn’t even say anything before Flint spoke again. “I know. Too much work talk, but considering everything, I thought it was relevant.”

  “What’s the cause?” Wren asked.

  “Take a wild guess.”

  “Benson?” she whispered a little too loudly. “God, that man’s an insidious rat.”

  “He was Jarden Fairbanks’ errand boy. His crew members were trained to not question the man. Damn it, he’s good. I wonder what kind of trouble he’s gotten himself into.” Flint got up and brought back two beers without asking what she’d like. He knew her by now.

  “Thanks.” Wren dragged the glass across the table and rested her gaze into the foam. “I’m sure that whatever it is, it’s not good. I wish we knew what we were getting into. What does this delay mean?”

  Flint shook his head. “We don’t know. Charles offered to help. He seems to have a knack for most things.”

  Wren didn’t have to be told twice. She was sure Charles’ work on the virus was the only reason it had come along so quickly. “Then the drive’s in good hands. Other than that, how have you been doing?”

  Flint crossed his arms and leaned back. “I’m beat, if I can be honest. Captain Barkley has us going over things a million times every day, and I don’t know if I can take it much longer.”

  “She just wants to mitigate risk,” Wren said.

  “I know, but if we’re here for another six months, we can’t go on like this,” Flint said.

  “Six months?”

  “I’m tossing an arbitrary timeline out there. I don’t expect they’ll take that long. How about you? Figure out your plan of attack?” Flint asked before taking a sip of his beer. The foa
m stuck to his lip and Wren let out a small laugh, knowing he’d left it on purpose.

  “What? Do I have something…?” He eventually wiped it.

  “I think I’m close. With one canister in their most populated area, I’m confident in a global epidemic in four months, but I want to lower that to three if possible. The more of them we hit, and fast, the less chance we have that they avoid the virus and leave their world in battleships, ready to fight.” Wren noticed Flint’s posture had changed. “What’s on your mind?”

  He tilted his glass, letting the liquid rise on the left side; just before it spilled over, he lowered it to the table. “I was thinking about Kat. I wish there was a way to check on them down there. It’s weird knowing they’re right down there” – he pointed to the floor – “and we can’t communicate with the colony.”

  “She’ll be fine. It was her choice, Flint. You wanted her to be safe, right?” Wren asked, until she remembered all the stories about the deadly Wendigos roaming freely near the colony.

  “Right. She’s better off down there. It’s just strange being apart so long after working together for years. She’s my only family,” Flint said.

  “You have us now, Flint. We’re your family. Ace, me, Charles, and the others.” Wren meant it, and could tell Flint was processing this.

  “Sorry to come in here and be a sad sack today. After the Shift drive news, I guess I’m just a little down about things.” He took another sip of the beer and turned his eyes to meet hers. “You never did tell me about your life before all of this. Before Jarden Fairbanks. I want to hear about the young girl with big dreams.”

  Wren couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “Fine, but you’re next. Do you want the short version or the long?”

  Flint squinted at his half-empty beer and quickly answered, “The long. Tonight, I need the long.”

  Wren began telling him about her childhood, and found herself comforted by remembering her past, knowing each decision had eventually led her to this moment.

  Ace

  The simulators were ready at last. Ace had been distracted after the first few weeks of practicing on the usual trainers. Their squadron consisted of four fighter pilots from the Pilgrim and four from the Eureka, plus Ace, and somehow, he’d managed to convince them to let Oliv join their ranks.

  It had taken some string-pulling, but after perpetually training with her, they showed the lieutenant how good she was. They didn’t have a choice, and given Ace’s recent track record – mainly, saving the entire crew of the Pilgrim – Lieutenant Collins likely thought the safest place for Fairbanks kid was with the Black Squadron.

  “This is so exciting!” Oliv said from her usual perch in the simulator over. The ten of them had been practicing drills outside in space for the last week, and Oliv had picked them up quickly, as if there was no difference between the simulators and the real thing. She’d even taken to the slight adjustments of the EFF-17 over the older EFF-15 fighters with ease.

  “It took them a long time, but I hope it’s worth it,” Ace said, nervous to attempt a mission against a Shift-capable fighter.

  “Listen up, Black Squadron.” Lieutenant Collins’ deep voice resonated throughout the room. “The brainiacs found a way to input the Watchers’ fighters into the simulator. While there’s no better training than the real thing, we don’t have a choice. We’ll learn the ins and outs of the Watchers’ fighting style. Bear in mind, this is all theoretical. They know how a Shift fighter works, but there’s no predicting how the pilot would operate the vessel.

  “We’re working off conjecture here, Squadron. Do you know what that means?” he yelled.

  A few “Yes, sirs” echoed in the training room, and Ace put up his hand. “Guesswork, estimation, sir.”

  “Very good. Gold star goes to Ace today,” Collins said.

  Oliv raised her hand, and Collins grunted. “Go ahead, Fairbanks.” She didn’t have a callsign yet, but was working on it. She was told it would come organically. Ace had told her about Onion, and some of the other unsavory nicknames back at boot camp, and she made him swear that wouldn’t happen to her. He’d been unable to make the promise and couldn’t stop laughing when she gave him a look only a teenage girl could pull off with such ease.

  “With these already being behind schedule, do you know when the simulators will be ready to train us on the Watchers’ ships?” Oliv asked, her voice stronger than normal.

  Collins hesitated before speaking. “Fairbanks, that’s a need to know, and lucky for you, you will never need to know.” He seemed ready to change subjects, but Oliv wouldn’t let that be the last of it.

  “But why, sir?” she asked.

  Ace caught Bradbury rolling his eyes toward Oliv from the next seat over. Ace hadn’t understood the man’s callsign until he saw Lieutenant Collins barrage into him after screwing up a training session. Ace hadn’t seen anyone’s face heat up to four hundred and fifty-one degrees so fast in his life.

  “Why? Because if the plan is to infiltrate the Watchers and take six of their ships for a reconnaissance mission, you, my dear little girl, will not be one of the six sent to participate. Any other questions?” He didn’t wait for Oliv to pry any more. “Good. As you know, the Watchers have Shift capability in all of their ships, or at least we have to assume they do. That will make them a dangerous enemy. They can arrive with the blink of an eye, but here’s the kicker.

  “They can’t leave right away. It’s a flaw with the drive. The drive must charge. From the data we’ve been given and the details entered into our simulator programs, the time is one minute and eleven seconds. What can you use that for?” Collins was still barking from behind them all.

  Rudolph raised her hand. Ace heard she’d earned her name by always taking point on missions and had never led the squadron astray. “We obliterate them in under one-ten, sir?”

  “Very good. We find a way to distract them and win the fight before they can Shift out, or Shift to a better attack position. How will we do that?” Collins asked the room.

  Ace raised his hand. “As a team, sir.”

  “That’s right. As a team. Now get strapped in, and let’s see how the Fleet’s trained to fight these bastards.” The lieutenant took his spot on the right side of the room. Ace wasn’t sure if he’d be coming with them on real outings, but he’d been very hands-on with the squadron. Despite his constant yelling, Ace found himself liking the man.

  The screen went dark, and Ace felt the familiar adrenaline before each training session surge through his body. It was a mixture of nervous energy and wanting to throw up. He wouldn’t have it any other way. It told him he was alive.

  When it lit up, they entered empty space. Stars littered the distance, and they kept formation from a rolling start. They didn’t waste time with exiting hangars in simulations any longer. That was what boot camp was for. Everyone here had far more experience than Ace, but he knew he had an aptitude for being a fighter pilot. It was a seed that was growing each day his skills improved, his maneuvers tighter.

  “Stay in formation,” Rudolph said, taking the lead in their wedge. Each fighter squadron was separated into pairs, and Oliv was with Ace on the edge of the formation.

  Ace looked around, each beat in his chest bringing the Watchers closer to their attack. “Where are they?” he asked himself just as his HUD flashed red. “There are at least twenty of them!” he shouted. The Watchers weren’t in formation; they seemed random, which checked out with what he’d seen back near the Rift.

  A timer started on the HUD with bright green digits: 1:11. The numbers were decreasing quickly.

  “Break off. Take them down before they can Shift!” Lieutenant Collins shouted as he and Throttle broke away, heading toward four Watcher vessels.

  “Oliv, with me!” Ace shouted, taking the lead at a group of three enemy ships. They were the same squat shape he’d seen when they’d first appeared with their invading fleet, and the sight nearly paralyzed him with fear.


  “Ace, snap out of it!” Oliv yelled, and he blinked, his hand moving back to his controls.

  “I’m good.” He was sending a barrage of pulse cannon fire toward the targets, hitting shields that glowed bright orange upon impact. The HUD displayed how many contacts he’d made on which ship.

  Ace roared around the sprawling ships, tailing one as it raced away. Three quick shots, and the ship exploded. His timer was quickly blinking down. It read 0:13, and he looked over to Oliv. She was firing at another enemy, all the shots going wide. He tried to arrive in time, but her fighter exploded with a shout of frustration from beside him.

  The timer flashed the seconds down, and most of the ships Shifted away, out of range of their fighters’ sensors.

  Ace looked around, for the first time noticing his was the last vessel still active.

  “Good work, Ace,” Lieutenant Collins said as he walked behind Ace’s simulation pod.

  “We all died. There’s no winning in that,” Ace said.

  “Not all of us did. Black Squadron, did you see that? One minute and eleven seconds. They beat us that fast and didn’t even need their Shifters. Can anyone tell me what would happen next?” Collins asked the group.

  Rudolph answered, “They come back and kill Ace.” She said it so matter-of-factly, Ace didn’t even feel bad about it.

  “Right.”

  The remaining sixteen Watcher ships appeared near Ace, and he gave the lieutenant behind him a grin before patiently waiting for them to get closer. He pointed his nose perpendicular to the incoming vessels and dropped all his bombs, spinning the ship down to fire at them. The incoming explosions took out five of the enemy and Ace, but when his screen went dark, he didn’t get the praise he expected.

  “That was cool,” Oliv said from beside him.

  Ace met Lieutenant Collins’ eyes, which conveyed a sadness he’d never seen in the man before. “It’s never cool when one of us has to sacrifice themselves for the cause, but it’s often done. Everyone strap in. We go again.”