by Jake Bible
“Save some of that for an actual target,” DuLaque said.
“Thanks for the advice,” MacAbee replied. “Now fuck off.”
“Fucking off,” DuLaque said.
MacAbee pulled up and came at the destroyer from underneath. The plasma guns on the bottom hull targeted her quad, but she was able to take out half before they could get a bead on her. Then the plasma bolts came and MacAbee found herself without any room to maneuver.
“Wing one hit,” her AI said. “Wing two hit.”
“Salvageable?” she asked.
“No,” the AI replied.
“Toss ‘em,” MacAbee ordered. “Divert power to remaining thrusters.”
“Ejecting damaged wings, diverting power to remaining thrusters,” the AI said.
A bolt came at MacAbee’s cockpit and she rolled the quad to avoid it. But her roll took her right into the path of four more bolts. Alarms rang out everywhere and MacAbee felt her flight suit pressurize and seal around her body.
“Life support compromised,” the AI said. “Unable to repair damage. Recommend ejection.”
“I don’t think so,” MacAbee said, her eyes locked onto the belly of the destroyer. “I’m useless if I eject.”
“Captain, the quad is damaged beyond repair,” the AI said. “Your effectiveness is already depleted. It is best you save yourself.”
“No,” MacAbee said. “Divert all power to one thruster. Push it to critical.”
“That would result in the full destruction of this quad,” the AI said. “My protocols will not allow that.”
“Pilot override,” MacAbee said as she tried to keep some semblance of control over her broken quad. “Push thruster to critical, AI. That is an order.”
MacAbee sent the quad directly at the hull of the destroyer. She felt everything start to fall apart around her as the vacuum took its toll on the unpressurized vehicle.
“All power diverted to single thruster,” the AI said.
“Good,” MacAbee said as she opened fire on the destroyer with everything she had left.
Then she pushed the accelerator to maximum.
The cockpit was so damaged that she could barely make out the destroyer anymore around the cracks and fissures. She saw a new wave of plasma bolts come right for her, but a quick calculation told her she would be at her target before they reached her.
“CSC or die!” she yelled just as her quad slammed into the belly of the destroyer, ripping right through its hull and into the substructure. “Fuck y-.”
Thirty-Three
The destroyer to DuLaque’s right exploded in a massive fireball that was quickly consumed by the vacuum, leaving only sparks and scorched debris to fill the space.
“Mac?” DuLaque shouted. “Mac? You still with us?”
No answer.
“Shit,” DuLaque said. “Goddamn it, Mac.”
The captain checked her scanners and was surprised to see only three battleships, four destroyers, and two cruisers left in the armada. Whatever Garcia had done it had decimated the Estelian forces.
“Hermes and Artemis,” DuLaque called out. “We have the most numbers. Concentrate all fire on the three battleships. Come in fast from above then dip under and rake their bellies.”
She heard several acknowledgements, but not as many as she would have liked.
“No time to get weak, people,” DuLaque said. “We’re here to stop these DGs, not give them a scolding and then tuck tail and go home. No one said this was a survivable mission. So get your heads straight and understand that if you live today it’s probably because you didn’t fight hard enough.”
There were a few choice words directed at her, but none of the quads fell out of formation as she led the squadrons towards the three Estelian battleships.
Plasma blasts came at her and she accelerated, pushing her quad faster as she climbed above the attack. Voices from the quads behind her cried out as the squadrons began to take hits. Screams were cut short and curses were flung, yet no one begged for mercy or panicked and fled. Artemis and Hermes stayed on course, stayed on mission, and took the attack to the battleships.
“Concentrate on the communications arrays just below the bridges,” DuLaque ordered. “Keep them from coordinating with each other. We’re going to divide and conquer here, people.”
She smiled to herself as she heard a little of MacAbee in her tone.
DuLaque continued to push her quad, staying just ahead of the Estelian plasma cannons’ targeting. It was a tight race, but she kept her course and took her quad to the apex of its climb then shoved the flight stick as hard as she could and went into a dive that pushed her whole body back into her seat. Even in the zero gravity environment of the vacuum, her life support systems could still create G-forces that nearly took her breath away.
She flicked her thumb and sent the last of her missiles down at the battleship’s bridge and the communications array just below it. Her eyes tracked the disruptors’ paths and she barely had time to pull up out of her dive before several explosions erupted along the Estelian warship’s hull. Her entire quad rocked violently from the concussions and she reluctantly pulled back on the throttle in order to maintain control.
But, with the slower speed she became vulnerable to the few Estelian plasma cannons that were operational and had her in range. Alarms rang out in her cockpit as she felt her quad shudder then begin to sputter and finally die. She pushed the throttle to full, but there was no response.
“AI? I need a status-.”
Her words were cut off as the entire back end of her quad was ripped apart by plasma bolts. Then the quad was gone, nothing but chunks and pieces of metal with fragments of its pilot interspersed between.
Thirty-Four
“Empty!”
“I’m out!”
“Last missile deployed!”
“Just lost power to my plasma cannons!”
“I can’t pull up! I can’t pull up!”
Wilson watched in horror as quad after quad fell before the remaining Estelian warships. Some were able to do damage while some just floated in the vacuum, impotent targets just waiting to be picked off. The captain emptied his strafing guns at a passing cruiser then slammed his fist into his control panel as his AI informed him that all weapons systems were depleted.
“How many quads still have power?” Wilson asked his AI. “Give me numbers now!”
“Forty-one quads have power,” the AI replied. “The remainder are adrift.”
“Good to know,” Wilson said. “Listen up, people! Our guns are empty, but our mission is far from over. We may not have disruptor missiles, but we still have something that can pack a punch. Our quads. I know you don’t want to hear this, but if we are going to give Earth a fighting chance, we have to make a stand here. If another Estelian armada comes in behind this one then we can kiss the home world goodbye. The entire safety of our species depends on what we do next.”
Wilson punched in coordinates and then sent them to what was left of the CSC squadrons.
“These are the remaining warships,” Wilson said. “I have tagged your quads with preferred targets. Split up and take aim. Command override is in place, so you shouldn’t have any resistance from your AIs. Point your quads at your target and push your thrusters into the red. I want your quads to go critical when they impact. Are we clear?”
There was an unanimous response.
“Good,” Wilson said. “Now, let’s put these fucking DGs in their graves!”
The captain was about to hit his throttle when proximity warnings blared in his cockpit.
“AI? What am I looking at?” Wilson asked.
“Three squadrons of Estelian quads have entered the system,” his AI replied. “They have punched out of interspace above, below and behind our squadrons. We are boxed in.”
“Motherfucker,” Wilson growled. “Squadrons? I’m sure your AIs just alerted you to what’s happening. We have no time for hesitation. Full throttles now! Take it to t
hese sons of bitches!”
Wilson accelerated as hard and fast as he could, aiming his quad directly for the bridge of one of the Estelian battleships. He could hear the war cries of his fellow pilots then those cries lost as the Estelian squadrons began to fire and close ranks around the CSC quads.
A thousand meters out, eight hundred meters, five hundred, three, two.
Wilson’s quad erupted in short lived flames as he was ripped apart by the concentrated plasma bolts of the three Estelian quads that converged on him.
The last thing he saw was the approaching hull of the battleship. His last thought was that his sacrifice was worth it. He would never know if that was true.
Thirty-Five
The image of General Birmingham filled half of North’s view, the other half being a scanner rendering of the battle at the far side of the solar system.
“General, I understand the need to keep training on schedule, but don’t you think that an approaching Estelian armada is slightly more important?” North barked. “Scanners are showing that our squadrons got their asses handed to them. There is no response from Titan Base, including the cruisers and destroyers stationed there, and we all know that the Asteroid Belt stations and Mars colonies are not equipped to go to war. Not even the Mars platforms. Not on a scale this large.”
“Which is precisely why we need you to keep training the cadets,” General Birmingham barked back. “How will we win this war against the doublegangers if we do not have the manpower to do so?”
“Ma’am, manpower will mean nothing if we lose the entire solar system!” North shouted. “You are ramping up for a full ground assault, but the DGs are coming at us with a fucking armada! The war right now is not being waged on planets, but in our own backyard!”
“I am well aware of where the war is being waged, Major,” Birmingham growled. “I am also aware that your tone is getting seriously close to sedition.”
“To what? Ma’am, I only have the CSC’s best interest at heart,” North countered. “I am trying to—”
“Then be quiet and do your job, Major,” Birmingham interrupted. “Run the Perpetuity like I have ordered you and let me handle the warfare. You train the cadets, I send the cadets into battle. There is no room for discussion on this.”
“Then at least let me shift the focus from ground troops to fighter skiffs,” North said. “I can revert the simulation bays to flight training instantly. We have enough training skiffs on the flight decks to add at least three squadrons to the fight.”
“No, Major, that will not be needed,” Birmingham said. “Reinforcements are on the way as we speak. They should punch in before the Estelian forces reach the Asteroid Belt stations.”
“Sir?” a tech said from North’s right. “Major North? I am picking up multiple punch waves from the battle site.”
“More warships?” North asked.
“No, sir, looks like Estelian quad squadrons,” the tech replied. “Several of them.”
“Quads?” North asked. “Shit.”
“I know what you are thinking, Major,” Birmingham said. “And this development does not change anything. You proceed as ordered or you will be removed from your duties. I can replace you by just snapping my fingers, Major North. Do not test me on this. I have tolerated your objections only because I know you are the best man to run the Perpetuity. Do not force me to change my mind.”
North watched the scanner images and shook his head as the signals indicating CSC quads began to blink out rapidly until there were none left. He took a deep breath then looked at the general.
“I’ll keep the schedule on track, ma’am,” North said. “You can count on me.”
“Good, Major,” Birmingham grimaced. “You leave the defense of this system to me. The CSC will not let the Earth fall to the Estelian threat. We will prevail because we always prevail.”
“Of course, General,” North said then saluted. “CSC or die.”
“CSC or die,” Birmingham said then her image blinked out, leaving North to stare at the long-range scanners and the Estelian warships left.
“What are we looking at?” North asked.
“Sir?” the tech replied.
“Give me a count on the Estelian warships,” North said. “I want to know what’s coming at us.”
“Yes, sir,” the tech said. “It appears they have two battleships, three destroyers, two cruisers, and three squadrons of quads.”
“That’s a lot of firepower heading this way,” North said. “I want simulation bays twenty-seven through thirty-eight to start running fighter skiff training sims immediately.”
“Sir, but the general said not to do that,” the tech said. “I heard her give you a direct order.”
“Now I am giving you a direct order, Private,” North snapped. “Which order are you going to obey? The one from a woman that is millions of kilometers from this station or the one standing right over you? I’d advise choosing wisely.”
“Sir, with all due respect, I cannot ignore what I heard,” the tech said. “A direct order from you does not supersede what the general said. All simulation bays are supposed to be for ground troops only.”
“Your patriotism is admirable,” North said. “But misplaced. I’ve been out there in the thick of it, Private, have you?”
“Well, no, sir,” the tech admitted. “I came straight from Earth to the Perpetuity. I’m a local.”
“So then you have no idea what this war is really like,” North stated. “And trust me, it isn’t always what the CSC wants you to think it is. It’s messy and brutal and way more complicated than any newscast you may have heard. In war, you have to make tough choices, choices that aren’t in your best interest, but in the best interest of the entire human race.”
“I’m just a tech, sir,” the tech said. “I leave those decisions to officers like you.”
“And this officer is ordering you to switch out the simulation bays,” North said. “So knock it the fuck off and do what I say!”
The tech stood and saluted North then stepped away from his console.
“I respectfully decline, sir,” the tech said. “I understand if you need to take disciplinary action against me.”
North started to speak then closed his mouth as he noticed all eyes were on him. The rows of techs that sat at their consoles on the Perpetuity’s bridge all stared at the major with looks ranging from surprise to outright contempt. North did a quick count and realized the contemptuous looks outnumbered the rest by a large margin.
He did not have the support he had hoped for.
“Disciplinary action is not necessary,” North said. “I withdraw my previous order. Carry on.”
“Yes, sir,” the tech said and sighed with relief as he sat back down at his console.
North focused on the rest of the techs, staring them down until each went back to work and put their attentions back on their jobs instead of him. With a final glance at the scanner image of the Estelian armada, North turned quickly and strode from the bridge.
He made it out into the corridor and was almost to the lift when four security guards stepped in front of him.
“Sergeant-at-Arms Metzger has requested your presence, sir,” one of the guards said. “If you will accompany us, please.”
“Good for him,” North smirked. “But he could have just called. Let Metzger know I’m busy at the moment and will come see him as soon as I can.”
“I am sorry, sir, but Sergeant Metzger gave us strict orders not to return without you,” the guard said, her hand going to the stun baton on her hip. “He was very clear on that.”
North narrowed his eyes then met the gazes of each of the other guards. He could tell instantly that they were all pharmaed to the gills and ready to put him down without a second thought.
“I am going to hand Metzger his ass when I get there,” North said as he held his hands up and shrugged. “You all understand that, right?”
“Yes, sir,” the guard said. “It is expect
ed. But that is between you and Sergeant Metzger. We are only here to escort you to him.”
“Yeah, you said that,” North said. “Just hold on a second. I need to call this in to my assistant.”
“You can call as we walk, sir,” the guard said.
“Can I?” North grumbled. “Thank you, Corporal. How kind of you.”
North pressed his wrist as he was surrounded by the guards and led to the lift.
“Yes, Major?” Ngyuen asked as the woman’s image appeared over North’s wrist.
“Where the hell are you, Corporal?” North asked. “You were supposed to meet me on the bridge.”
“Yes, well, I was called to the medical bay to speak with Dr. Jagath,” Ngyuen said. “I am actually on my way to you right now.”
“Don’t bother,” North said. “I’ve been summoned by Metzger and am being escorted down to the security levels.”
“I’m sorry, sir, did you say you are being escorted to the security levels?” Ngyuen asked.
“That’s exactly what I said,” North replied.
“Who is escorting you, sir?” Ngyuen asked.
“Four of Metzger’s people,” North said. “Which I thought were my people, but apparently I was under the wrong impression as to who is in charge on this station.”
“Which security level?” Ngyuen asked, her face tight with alarm.
“Which security level?” North asked one of the guards.
“That is need to know, sir,” the guard replied.
North stared at her for a second then shook his head and looked back at the image of Ngyuen. “You catch that?”
“I did, sir, and I have to say it is quite troubling,” Ngyuen replied. “I’ll report this to CSC immediately.”
