Two of the Shang ships dropped their deflection grids and stopped maneuvering. That alone caused the grav beams to swing off target, but instead of shifting back to hit the ships again, they faded away. The two ships were dead in space, their main generators ripped apart. A third ship, the one speared by Fort London, broke in half under the assault, and the Peloran ceased their assault on it as well to concentrate on true threats.
And of course the true threats had not been idle. The Shang were prepared for this strike, and even though they couldn’t know where the Peloran would strike from, having sensors on the watch for energy surges, having point defense in position, and more importantly having heavy weapons ready to fire back in all directions turned out to be a useful tactic. It took pressure off the British, and Jack could tell they were already beginning to push back at the Shang, but it allowed the Shang to pour fire into anything that dared attack them, like a stray Peloran Battle Squadron.
Their first wave of missiles, fired instantly after the Peloran squadron surfaced, washed over the Peloran formation and Jack winced as every deflection grid wavered. Several Peloran fighters screening the Peloran prows exploded or ripped apart, and the Shang lasers stabbed into the wavering grids, searching for weak spots. They found them and the lasers slashed into Peloran armor, vaporizing or cutting it off to send it floating away as the Peloran warships slewed away from the assault. Again and again, the lasers followed the Peloran maneuvers, searching for the weak spots, and Jack closed his eyes as an explosion engulfed one of the Peloran destroyers. He saw spots of light when it faded away and he blinked before looking at it again. Its starboard gravitic cannon was simply gone, and its entire starboard side looked like a car door mauled by an angry bear.
“Ouch,” Jack whispered as the wounded destroyer spun its starboard side away from the Shang to take future hits on its fresh port armor.
“Not as bad as it looks,” Betty answered as their gravitic cannon spun up for another salvo into the fleet. This time one of the beams broke through a weakened grid and ripped into a Shang cruiser.
“Transit in three.” Hal began as more missiles crisscrossed space between the two forces and point defense slashed across the incoming waves.
“Two.” A massive gravitic cannon ripped through a Shang destroyer and the target exploded.
“One.” Jack shut his eyes as the Shang missile swarm began to explode all around, flicking his stick and throttle back and forth to make them harder to hit.
A flash of light filled the world, a scream of tearing metal assaulted his ears, Jack opened his eyes, and hyperspace filled his view again. He sniffed at the smell of burning metal and winced.
“Ow!” Betty said, her hologram recoiling in pain.
“What?” Jack asked, wondering how bad it was.
“Ow! Ow! Ow! That hurt!” Betty repeated, slapping her legs as if putting out a fire.
Jack sniffed at the burning smell again. “Are…are we supposed to be burning?”
“No! Ah…no burning.” Betty looked up at him, froze as if suddenly realizing her hologram was echoing her actions, and gave him a nervous smile. “Just charring. We’ll be fine in a few moments. Just let me nail this down.”
“What is your situation?” Hal asked, obviously for Jack’s benefit. He probably already had the full download.
“Oooh, just a bit of burn in the capacitors. Give me a minute to slap together some repairs before we go back up please.”
“That tearing sound?” Jack asked, eyebrows raised. “That sounded like more than just capacitor burn.”
Betty winced again, rose up on her tiptoes as if looking back, and pursed her lips. “Oooh, well nothing deadly or anything,” she said, obviously not wanting to say what happened. “We just…ah…well…just lost life support.”
Jack froze for a spit second in shock. “Wait…what? Life support!” That was most definitely an important system to keep if he had anything to say about it.
“Oh, don’t burst a blood vein, Jack,” Betty said airily. “We have canned air that should last just fine.”
Jack’s jaw dropped. He shook his head and pulled it back up. “Yeah. Right. Should?”
Betty shrugged. “Well, try to breath slowly. Don’t get excited.”
Jack shook his head again. His life support, the one thing that kept him alive, was gone and she didn’t want him to get excited about it? “Right. That’s like asking a high schooler not to get excited when he sees you in that sundress,” he said, trying to push some humor into his voice. He really hoped it didn’t sound frantic instead.
Betty smiled and twisted as if modeling for an audience. “Why, Jack. This old thing? I just picked this up off an old crystal I found.”
Jack giggled, and this time he was certain the nerves had gotten through. He shut his eyes, breathed deeply, let the breath out, and reminded himself to be calm. He opened his eyes again and looked at her. “Seriously. We good?” he asked.
“Yeah, Jack,” Betty answered in a calming voice. “Just let me finish running new power lines and…got it. OK. I can start the charging process now. Ah…ooh…that’s close. Hal, can I have another minute please? I had to back off on my charge. Nearly burned the lines again. Either I have faulty power lines or the ten second energy transfer tests under combat conditions were hopelessly optimistic.”
“Oh, you might get more than a minute,” Hal answered with a wince. “The Swift Wing is reporting problems recharging.”
Jack looked over at the destroyer missing a starboard side. “That her?” Jack asked.
“Yeah,” Hal said, pursing his lips as he obviously got some new data.
Jack frowned as an earlier concern returned to his mind. “Was that her gravitic cannon exploding?”
“Yes,” Hal said with a shrug. “And now you know why we mount them outside the hull. You know the Albion used to say we had shiny big gun syndrome. We…keep them at a controlled overload setting for extra damage projection. Works great unless they have a catastrophic failure or they take damage at an inopportune moment. Should that happen, their location means we still have a ship to repair afterwards.”
“Right,” Jack said, thinking about the two grav cannons on either side of him. He looked down to either side where they rested. “Um…what about my Avenger here?” he asked, feeling more nervous than he had about them.
“Oh, we wouldn’t design them like that,” Hal answered.
“Gee. Thanks for making me feel better,” Jack said with a scowl.
“Ouch,” Hal said with a larger wince. “The Swift Wing reports complete core meltdown. Be ready to translate in a minute. We’ll be leaving her behind for the next run.”
“I’ll be ready,” Betty answered.
“Just how serious is that?” Jack asked, glancing at the destroyer in question as she began to drift away from the formation.
Hal followed his gaze with a frown. “Oh…long run, not at all. I’ve come back from worse. Short run, she’s dead in space.” Hal said. “We’re going to have to make sure we get back in time to keep her from dropping into your sun or something real serious of course.”
“Right,” Jack whispered, clearing his throat. “Like dropping into a sun isn’t serious.”
“Yeah,” Hal said with a wink. “I think sunbathing is on Tuesday’s schedule.”
Jack couldn’t help it. He chuckled, hoping it didn’t sound too manic.
“That’s the spirit,” Hal continued. “Laugh in the face of death. Make him know he’s your bythad.”
Jack blinked at the unfamiliar word and cocked his head to side. “Huh?”
“Dog,” Betty supplied, covering her face with her hand, but he caught the amusement in her eyes.
“Right,” Jack said slowly. “If you two don’t mind, I think I’d like to hold off on my meeting with death for a few centuries or so.”
“An even better spirit,” Hal said with a smile. His eyes unfocused for a second. “New information. Aneerin has decided on a new target.
Follow me.”
“Moving,” Betty answered and Jack felt them accelerate. He glanced around to see the rest of the squadron accelerating as well, holding position off the Guardian Light’s flank.
Jack checked the screens to see the beam that illuminated their course, then checked to see what was on the other side, and swallowed. It was a massive Shang dreadnought or something, the largest moving space structure he’d ever seen, and a cruiser squadron protected it against any stray attackers. It was by far the most dangerous part of the fleet surrounding Fort London and he figured there was a reason they’d avoided it until now.
“We’re going after that?” Jack asked in disbelief.
“Yes,” Hal answered. “It is a worthy target. Once we destroy it, the Shang attack will falter.”
“But the cruisers alone outnumber us four to one here!” Jack shouted back.
“Jack,” Hal said in a serious tone. “We are always outnumbered. It is simply the way things are. Do not worry. We have a plan.”
Jack opened his mouth, heard Betty clear her throat, shut his mouth, and looked at her. She shook her head and smiled. He let out a breath in acceptance and watched the squadron approach the strike point.
On the other side, the British still held but the Shang flagship hammered them again. A British cruiser drifted away from the fort, powerless and helpless. The flagship’s escorts fired with it, smashing the fort’s deflection grids back again and again to dig deeper into the armor.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any more time,” Hal said, looking towards Betty’s hologram.
“I understand,” she returned. “I’ll make do.”
Hal nodded. “Transit in three…two…one.”
Jack closed his eyes against the flash of light, opened them, and gasped as he saw the massive Shang warship filling the sky in front of him. It was less than a kilometer away and he could actually see the individual weapons turrets spinning towards him. They were too close. Way, way, way too close for his comfort.
“Chaaaaaarge!” Hal shouted and every weapon in the squadron opened up as the ships accelerated towards their target.
It was at that point that Jack came to the conclusion that the Peloran suffered from a severe case of split personality that had to approach complete insanity. This day had truly done bad things to his preconceptions about the Peloran race. One truth he knew for certain though. Aneerin was not lying. In a very deep way, that terrified him more than the battleship before him bristling with weapons and completely willing to crush him like a bug.
Hello, my name is Jack. There are times when I realize that everything I’ve known about life is wrong. When everything I know about an entire race is wrong. The Peloran are a very calm race, always nice from what I’ve seen, always courteous and careful. Send them into combat though, and that is when you see what the Albion designed them to be. Utterly fearless warriors capable of looking death in the face and smiling back. That day, I learned I could do it too.
The End of the Rainbow
Jack strummed his guitar, singing a favorite song about beaches and sun and fresh lake breezes. And beer and girls of course. Put beer and girls in anything and it got better after all. The girls agreed, cheering him on as they danced with the very lucky boys on the beach. He could only assume the beer agreed as well. It didn’t protest his singing at least.
The sun was gone below the horizon, but warmth still radiated off the sand and he drove his bare feet down into it. The familiar two-meter bonfire lit the beach, driving back the chilly wind coming in off Rainy Lake with waves of heat that warmed the skin with each flicker of flame. He breathed deep between verses, enjoying the warmth on his bare chest. He held his seat on the wooden stool, strummed his guitar, and sang on.
Jack cocked his head to the side in confusion as he realized the very joyful song about beach parties had taken on a melancholy tone. He didn’t know why. It was a happy song, and it had been every time he’d song it before. Now it felt…sad. He didn’t know why, but soldiered on. The boys and girls drinking and dancing around the bonfire didn’t seem to notice his melancholy, having as much fun as they always did on Friday nights.
Jack continued to sing, strumming his guitar, and watching the party go on. A beautiful young lady with blonde hair and a yellow sundress fluttering in the twin breezes off the lake and the fire walked out of the crowd towards him. He recognized her in a moment and nodded his head. He didn’t break the song though. If he did that, the party would end, so he kept it going behind her.
Betty walked up to him, turned to look at the party, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I thought I’d find you here,” she whispered.
Jack smiled in between phrases, and sang on. He scanned the crowd and saw all of his friends there. There drank Big John, the muscular man you always wanted at your back when furniture needed moving. There danced Chris, the wiry man you always wanted nearby when you started a fight. The University of Minnesota’s starting quarterback, Jesse sat on a log, a girl in each arm laughing at his jokes. His delivery was actually good enough he could have a real future there if he tried. Dave tossed another log on the fire, causing it to blossom up into the night and highlight the numerous burn scars on his body. He was the one you always wanted around if you had to start a fire and all you had was a concrete block and a bucket of water.
Sarah danced up a storm on the edge of the beach where the waves rolled up to her ankles, her long hair flying wild in the firelight. She was a city kid and had been to dance school since she was seven. She wasn’t the strongest girl out there, but was real good at bringing a crowd to its feet when she wanted to. Kelly stood by the coolers, her spine arching back as she finished another glistening bottle, drinking another boy into the sand. She came from a farm, and while she looked soft and huggable, she could throw a right hook that would send the boy that mouthed off to her into next week. Taylor and Jennifer both sat in the sand next to the fire, knees digging in deep and their toes flexing beneath their very shapely hind ends. They had the lungs of natural sopranos accustomed to the stage and he loved watching them in action. They would relieve him on the guitar whenever he felt like stopping.
Jack sang on, wondering why he felt so sad when he was right here, in the one place in the world he loved the most. Partying with so many good friends with so much good music and literal crates of good beer on an awesome beach with a pyromaniac-fed fire. It was heaven.
“You know why you’re sad,” Betty whispered in his ear.
He jerked, almost losing the song, but held it and the party went on. She didn’t belong here. He looked at her and read the understanding in her eyes. She’d never been to the parties. She didn’t belong at the parties. They weren’t her world. In fact, he’d never seen her here at all, even in his dreams since…the thought skittered away and he frowned. He had to fight to hold onto the song.
“You don’t belong here either, Jack,” she added with a sad smile.
He felt a shudder of dread go through him, and almost lost the song again. Somehow, he continued to sing, and the party lived on. His friends continued to have fun. He looked away from Betty and tried to feel like he was part of the party. It just didn’t work though. No matter how hard he tried, he felt like he was on the outside looking in. Only the song and the guitar in his hands felt real.
Betty stepped behind him, moved close, and placed both hands on his shoulders. He stopped singing at the realization that she felt more real than the guitar.
The song went on, the party went on, his friends continued to have fun, and he cocked his head to the side in wonder as he realized he was on the outside now, looking in at the him who was singing. He looked down to see empty hands, and back up to see the other him playing the guitar. He felt Betty bend over until her lips hovered next to his ear.
“I understand why you want to be here,” she whispered. “If I’d grown up with this, I would too. It really is a wonderful life.”
Jack watched himself sing and willed a
beer bottle into existence. He lifted it up and watched the fire reflect off the water drops on its side. He popped the top, leaned back into her body, and chugged it down. It was great. The best beer he’d ever had. No. It wasn’t. He lowered the bottle and frowned at it. He’d just drunk the best beer he’d ever had a few minutes ago. He concentrated with a scowl and leaned back to take another chug. A thick, honey sweet beer flowed from the bottle and he finished it with relish. “We could stay here,” Jack said after lowering the bottle, not entirely certain what he meant. Somehow though, he knew it was true. If he decided to, he would never have to leave this party again. The party of his dreams forever.
“Is this truly all you want?” Betty asked.
For a split second, the party flittered out of focus and Jack had to fight to bring it back. “Why?” he asked. “What could possible be better than this?”
Betty sighed and let out a long breath that tickled his ear. “Us,” she whispered.
The bonfire disappeared and he saw both of them standing on an observation deck on a starship, looking out over the Earth far below them. He shook his head, and the party came back into focus. “We could be us right here,” he answered, focusing on the him who still sang. He concentrated and Betty faded into view next to that him. She belonged there, just as much as he did. They could both live forever in the party, never looking back to anything that might hurt them.
“Yes, we could,” Betty said in his ear. “We could settle for this if you wish. But we could be so much more out there.”
“Why?” Jack said, feeling the world want to shift below him again. Stars and fire filled his view for a moment, but he shook his head and the party returned. “Why should we? This is what we want in the end, right? So why bother? We can just…take it now.”
“Is this what you want, Jack?” Betty asked with a sad sigh. “I know a part of you does. That’s why you dream here. But another part of you wants so much more than this. That’s why you wake up every morning.”
Forge of War (Jack of Harts) Page 9
