by J. N. Chaney
She raised her staff and twirled it above her head. “That’s fine with me. Just don’t fuck the nun again while I’m around.”
Twenty-One
I sat in my cockpit with Abigail beside me and a bottle of whiskey between us.
“Cheers,” she said, holding a shot glass toward me.
“Cheers,” I repeated. We clinked them together and tossed the alcohol back. I exhaled, setting the glass down on my dash, right next to the Foxy Stardust bobblehead. “That’s the spot.”
“You know, for someone who doesn’t believe in gods or luck, you certainly enjoy your rituals,” Abigail told me.
“It’s for the nerves, that’s all,” I said. “Don’t tell me it doesn’t help you.”
“It does,” she admitted, a thin smile on her face as she took both glasses and stowed them beneath the dash, along with the bottle. “I just think it’s interesting.”
I scoffed. “Watch the flirting, woman. I know that look. We ain’t got time for that.”
“Who said I was flirting?” she asked, pretending to be appalled.
I felt the liquor in my gut, warming me, and it was nice. I hadn’t been drunk in nearly a week—a mistake I aimed to rectify, once all of this was done—but it was good to relax with a bit of booze in my belly, especially before a job.
“What do you think we’ll find on that planet?” asked Abigail, after a moment.
“Who knows? Probably something like what we saw on Tyche, I’d wager.”
“Are you talking about the underground facility with hundreds of floors or the gaping hole we found in the middle of it?”
“Hopefully both,” I said. “I enjoy my bottomless pits, you know.”
A few minutes later, we received the call from Alphonse, letting us know the pilots were ready to launch. The end of this slip tunnel was fast approaching, which meant it was time to cloak The Star. I ran the pre-flight check and activated our engines, bringing us to the edge of the landing bay.
The swirling green of the tunnel danced before us as we waited with anticipation for what was about to happen.
A beam left Titan and split the tunnel in two, forming a tear along the emerald wall to reveal the blackness of real space. Stars shined in the distance, glimmering like jewels. We were here at last, come to wipe away the plague before it had a chance to end us.
There was no going back now.
* * *
The second we left the ship, my holo began lighting up with enemy units. The drones had gathered around Aetna, facing our exact position. Hephaestus knew we were coming, just as Athena had predicted, and he wasn’t about to make this easy for us.
“Sir,” said Sigmond, his voice breaking the tension inside the cockpit. “I am receiving a transmission.”
“Let’s hear it,” I said.
“Transient vessel. You are in direct violation of the Eternal Border Protection Act. Your transgression shall not be tolerated.”
“What about the part where he tells us to surrender and prepare for extraction?” asked Abigail.
“Sounds like that part’s off the table,” I said.
“Not that it matters,” she added.
“Would you like to respond, sir?” asked Sigmond.
I shrugged. “Since we’re dealing with an unfeeling machine—no offense, Siggy—I don’t see the point in lobbying insults. Let’s just do our jobs.”
“None taken, sir,” said Sigmond.
Abigail snickered. “So, if you can’t taunt the enemy, you just don’t bother?”
“That’s the idea,” I said. “There’s strategy in sarcasm. I thought you’d learned that by now.”
We flew toward the planet, along with a fleet of strike ships and a weaponized Moon behind us. Based on what I could see on the holo, the enemy’s numbers were less than our own, which meant we stood a solid chance at making this a quick and smooth victory. With any luck, we’d all walk out of this unscathed.
The holo flashed red as the drones began to move. Abigail leaned forward, clutching the quad canon controls, anticipation weighing in the air.
“Steady now,” I said out of the corner of my mouth, glancing at her. “Wait until we can get the jump on these things.”
Sigmond chimed in before she could answer. “Thirty seconds to engagement, sir.”
I watched the holo radar, every second feeling longer than it should, and waited. The enemy fleet seemed to move with precision, the way I expected machines to be, each of them nearly on top of the other. Identical speeds.
That was the benefit of having one pilot versus a hundred. Zero communication needed. All coordination.
“Here they come,” I finally said, not looking away. “Get ready.”
Abigail took a breath, but said nothing.
The first wave of drones passed us, and I brought The Star to a crawl, cutting our engines to avoid detection. Our ships engaged the drones at once, lighting up the holo.
Ahead of us, another group followed. I reoriented the ship so it was lined up with the nearest drone. “Wait for it,” I said.
The second group approached, and I turned my ship to face the other direction, toward Titan and the ongoing battle. As the nearest drone passed us, I leaned forward, gripping the control sticks, and said, “Here we go!”
I pushed forward, igniting our thrusters and following the drone. We accelerated, matching its pace, and I lined us up with the drone’s rear.
“Now!” I said. “Fire!”
Abigail launched the quad cannon instantly, like she’d been on the edge of her seat, waiting for it, and maybe she had. The blast flew forward, forcing us to drop our cloak, but it was no matter. We had the damn thing in our sights, and our little victory assured.
The blast struck the rear of the drone, igniting its thruster and triggering a brief reaction that destroyed the entire vessel, shattering it to pieces. Nothing but dust in a vacuum.
I set us off toward the next target, the nearest drone to the last. I wanted to take as many of these as possible before they engaged the fleet.
We had him in our sights soon, and I didn’t have to give the order to fire this time. Abby was already on it.
The cannon fired, and I turned us immediately toward the next target, leaving the drone to receive what we’d thrown out. We were gone before it disintegrated, but I made sure to track it on the holo.
We followed up with the third, the last drone we’d have the chance to kill before the others engaged the fleet.
As I brought us behind it, the drone changed course, decelerating and turning, flipping itself around to face us. Our efforts hadn’t gone unnoticed, it seemed. We’d officially lost the element of surprise.
Abby fired the cannons, spraying them in a wide arc. Only one of the shots came close, but it merely grazed the enemy’s hull. It returned fire straight-away.
We took the hit dead-on. The ship rumbled, but kept stable. The shield had absorbed most of the blast.
Abby shifted in her seat, an intensity about her, and she narrowed her focus, firing a second burst.
Two of the blasts struck hard this time, directly at the drone’s center. The first one broke the hull; the second went inside.
I watched the lifeless machine explode from within, shattering its guts into the void around it. Without missing another beat, I turned us to the battle ahead.
* * *
We entered the fight firing our cannons, sniping two drones before we even arrived. Three clusters of enemy units surrounded us, engaged with their own strike ships, but a few had taken notice.
Abigail unloaded on the nearest one before it had a chance to strike first. It was gone before I had a chance to breathe.
I brought us around to the others in quick succession, and together with the other ships, we made fast work of them.
The rest of the swarm had already taken to attacking Titan, which lingered behind the two fleets, firing its blue beams with surgical precision. The drones were having little success against the shi
eld, but I knew that wouldn’t last forever. Even Titan’s defenses would fall eventually, given enough pressure.
Alphonse brought his squad from behind the shield, stepping out to fire ten quick beams into the enemy. Instantly, half a dozen of them were gone. The other drones tried to return fire, but the strike ships had already fallen back inside the safety of the shield, letting it take the brunt of the attack.
I didn’t bother cloaking us again. Abigail was firing every few seconds as I continued to locate new targets.
As the battle continued, the red indicators on my holo began to drop in number, going from over a hundred to under twenty. All of this in mere minutes.
These drones might have coordination and power, but none of that mattered against Titan and her fleet.
I felt a jerk as something struck our side, knocking me in my chair. The harness locked itself, keeping me in place, and the straps burned against my chest. “Siggy, report!”
“Shields are holding, sir,” he said.
I gripped the control sticks and swung us around. “Hit ‘em hard!” I barked.
The first of three drones came quickly into view on the targeting screen, and Abby fired.
A blip appeared on the radar, just as I was about to move us. A blue beam hit the second and third drones, dropping their dots from the holo. “Don’t worry, Captain,” said Octavia, her voice filling my ear. “Bolin and I have you covered.”
I smiled. “Not too bad. Now, let’s finish up this mess so we can get to the real—”
An indicator light appeared on the display, showing a new rift as it appeared near the edge of the system.
“Slip tunnel forming,” said Sigmond.
“I see that!” I snapped. “Godsdammit!”
“Do you think it’s more drones?” asked Abby.
“I don’t know. Siggy, open a channel to the fleet,” I ordered.
“Open, sir.”
“We’ve got company. Everyone, form up. Stay close to Titan until we know what we’re dealing with.”
Karin spoke this time. “It must be the other drones we saw on the map.”
“In the meantime, we’re picking up our disabled ships,” said Alphonse.
Multiple beams emitted from Titan’s surface, snatching several strike ships and pulling them inside. I ran a quick check to find seventeen of them, still alive and drifting, while four others had been destroyed.
I closed the readout and zoomed in on the newly formed tunnel. A new cluster of red dots appeared on the radar, indicating multiple ships, but there was something else among them. Something larger than the rest.
A massive thing, pulling itself out of the rift, but it didn’t look like any drone I’d ever seen.
Not yet, anyway.
The holo zoomed in and focused on the object, revealing a massive rectangular ship. It entered normal space, letting the tunnel close behind it.
“Siggy, what am I looking at here?” I asked.
“Scanning,” said Sigmond. “The object appears to be made up of the same material as the drones, but I am unable to penetrate the vessel’s surface.”
Athena’s voice interrupted us. “Captain, please proceed inside the shield at once. I am detecting unusual activity coming from the approaching vessel’s surface.”
“Athena, what the hell is that thing?” I asked, pulling the controls to the left and bringing us toward Titan.
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” she admitted. “I have no records of such a ship.”
I locked the holo on the new object, keeping an eye on its movement. It was bulky, but smooth, with indentions running down its sides in an odd pattern. It had no windows or landing bays that I could see, no openings or recognizable traits. I couldn’t even see any weapons.
Until it began to move.
Not towards us, though. It wasn’t accelerating or pulling away. It was transforming, somehow, moving pieces of itself and changing.
Part of it—a section on the tail or front (I couldn’t be sure) moved away from the bottom, bending up, almost like a joint. Before it snapped into place, one of the indentions opened, breaking apart further. This entity was transforming, moving its pieces like a child’s toy.
“That can’t be good,” said Abigail, right when we entered the shield.
I turned the ship around to face the object, and we watched it continue to shift and break and change on the holo display.
Silence spread across the comm as our entire fleet waited to see what the hell we were dealing with.
We didn’t have to wait long. The ship continued to take its new shape, its rectangular body snapping apart and extending to form what looked like appendages. Four of them, like arms and legs, with a central torso to connect them.
“No way,” Abigail whispered, almost to herself.
We watched in awe as the entity continued its transformation, finally settling into what could only be described as a giant, mechanized humanoid figure.
I checked the holo for details, curious as to its sheer size. My eyes widened when I saw the numbers.
Length (Approx.): 5,1820 m.
Width (Approx.): 729 m.
Blue dots lit up the object at various points, indicating different weapons, including short and long-range beam cannons. Whatever this thing was, it looked like it could lay down some serious hurt.
“This could be a problem for us,” I finally said.
“What do we do?” asked Abigail.
Alphonse’s voice chimed in. “Captain, should we engage?”
“If we don’t, we’ll have our backs against Titan,” inserted Octavia.
“No, wait!” I said, quickly. “Stay where you are.”
“Captain?” she responded.
“Athena, if someone hits your shield, can you determine the strength of the blast?” I asked.
“Only as it pertains to the weapon that has been used,” she informed.
“That should do,” I said.
“Ah, now I see,” said Alphonse.
I nodded. “If we attack now, we won’t know what we’re dealing with, and we could lose ships in the process. Let it hit the shield first. Let’s see what it’s made of. We can also use Titan as a distraction, even if it’s only for a few seconds.”
“Understood,” said Alphonse. He switched over to the fleet’s universal channel. “Everyone, move your squads to these positions along the outer perimeter of Titan’s shield. Keep your groups separated at all times, and be ready to strike. I’m assigning targets now.”
A number appeared next to each of the entity’s cannons, one for each of our nine squads.
“Perfect,” I said, once the icons were set. “And Athena?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Start moving this Moon to the planet.”
“Yes, Captain. Accelerating now,” she said.
The entity ignited its thrusters, beginning to move, and an additional swarm of drones along with it. It was like looking at a man and a group of insects, all moving together, like a demon from a storybook.
Only this one was several kilometers tall and could probably wipe out a planet.
But we were already nearly there, and we’d be ready when it caught up.
The fleet broke apart, moving into their designated areas, staying inside Titan’s shield.
While we were in transit, I ran a scan on the drones themselves. They were smaller than the last batch, which came as a surprise. I hadn’t expected that.
“Hephaestus might have been in a rush,” suggested Abigail, once I brought it up.
“Or he spent most of his time on that,” I said, nodding at the metallic humanoid headed in our direction. “Either way, this might be a good thing.”
We arrived in weak orbit around Aetna, and Titan launched a quick sequence of attack beams, destroying the nearby defense drones. They barely had a chance to fire at us before they were gone.
I examined the surface of the planet, scanning for the facility. It was right there, exactly where
Hephaestus’ map had said it would be.
There was just one last thing we had to do.
Twenty-Two
The enemy decelerated as it approached, along with the surrounding drones. As it stopped, the drones spread out in every direction, forming what I could only describe as a kind of wall.
This was certainly different. As the drones moved out, the mid-section of the entity became more visible, and I could see a second of its hull was missing.
No, not missing. It was incomplete. “Look at that,” I said, motioning to the holo.
“How did that happen?” asked Abigail. “Do you think it broke off somehow?”
“No, that looks half-finished. Maybe Hephaestus didn’t have the time he needed to build the rest of it,” I suggested.
“How fortunate for us,” said Abigail.
I opened a channel to Titan. “Athena, are you seeing that open section on that thing?”
“Yes, Captain,” she responded. “In addition to the incomplete hull on the new weapon, many of the smaller drones appear to be in a similar state. Either Hephaestus is malfunctioning, or he simply did not have the resources to mass produce his forces in the time required.”
“Either way, this plays to our benefit,” I said.
“Indeed,” she said.
A long silence filled the air, and I could sense the tension, not only in my ship, but across the fleet itself. None of us knew what came next. We’d never been here before.
But that was familiar to me now, and somehow, despite the terror of this thing in front of us, I knew there was a piece of me that wanted it. A part of me that craved the excitement, the anticipation of the fight.
I knew I should resist it. I knew I should hate myself for having it. But I didn’t.
I couldn’t. It was a part of me, this feeling of anticipation, this call for the unknown, and it had been there since the start.
My heart raced as I sat in my seat, hands around the control sticks, waiting for the moment I knew was coming—that millisecond before the other guy drew his gun.
The holo flickered, showing the build-up of energy as the entity charged its cannons.
Here it comes, I thought.
It raised its arm and extended its weapon, and a silver light formed inside, shining with intensity. The light came together, dimming for a brief moment, and then exploded.
