by Bret Brown
P-T looks over at the armed guards surrounding him, at the two men, and then looks at the open pathway. He ponders for a moment on how he should proceed.
The general sees P-T contemplating and says, "Should you consider being a complete fucking asshole, I've been informed to remind you that we are in control. Plain and simple. Those were the specific words provided to me."
P-T decidedly listens to the general and turns to walk down the cleared pathway. Sargent Aldelay comes up right beside P-T to walk abreast with him to begin telling him the mission details. P-T looks over and down on the smaller man, as the man is only five foot eight inches and probably doesn't weight more than one hundred and fifty pounds. However, Sargent Aldelay pays no attention to P-T's attempt to emasculate his size.
"The four ships should be right close to Fiortega 10, a gas giant, as we speak. We have some ships deployed to intercept the vessels.", says Sargent Aldelay. "So far, we’ve been able to determine that these are most likely small scout vessels, probably only carrying a crew of two maybe three. Our plan is once they get within the outermost moon of Fiortega 7, we'll attack them there with an all-out assault. We don't have much, but we outnumber them six to one."
Sargent Aldelay waits for a couple moments to see if P-T has anything to say or add. Unsure, Sargent Aldelay asks, "Hey, are you even listening?", putting his hand on P-T's arm.
P-T stops and gives him a long mean glare until Sargent Aldelay removes his hand saying "Right... I've heard about your fucking attitude. I don't give a fuck how badass you think you are or might be. We got a job to do with millions of lives depending on us, and I won't tolerate it if you're off in lala land fucking daydreaming, you got that."
Irritated, Sargent Aldelay moves on ahead of P-T towards the exit of the building. He slams the door open and holds it open with his backside. With an attitude, he says, "This way."
Once outside, the smell of fresh rain fills the lungs with its sweet smell; the ground still wet with puddles of water scattered throughout the maintained landscape. The sun sits low on the horizon, setting the pale blue sky ablaze as the evening sets. A mild, cool breeze brings the nearby sea air to land, feeling refreshing as it glides against the skin.
Two hundred yards beyond the building's door, is a gigantic hangar with doors towering three hundred feet up and fifty feet wide. As they approach, the giant doors start open; revealing the interior of the hangar while the artificial light spills out from inside and cast down on the ground. Looking in, there different vehicles for different means of transport including several fighter ships. They are small in comparison with the Phantom, capable of holding only a pilot and a gunner in the turret. Seeing the ships, P-T says, "That's not my ship."
General Fontenot replies, "Is there something wrong with this vessel? We believe that they are perfectly capable of handling the enemy."
P-T looks at the vessels closer running his hand on the ships armor, and lets out a loud, “Hrmph.", as he scoffs in disagreement with the General.
"What's your deal tough guy?", says Sargent Aldelay with an annoyed attitude, "Why don't you explain to us your fantastic idea? You obviously have all the answers."
"You're wasting your time chasing scout ships.", says P-T.
"What the fuck does that mean?", says the fiery Sargent.
Putting his hand on the Sargent's shoulder to calm him down, General Fontenot steps in, "Do you have anything to add to that?", he asks P-T, who just shrugs his shoulders in response.
"Really! News flash fucko! We aren't fucking mind readers. So, you better start talking.", says Sargent Aldelay.
"Excuse us for a moment.", says the General as he motions to the Sargent to step aside with him. The two men walk away a few yards to keep their conversation private. Meanwhile, P-T is left with all the surrounding guards; still looking over at the small ships amused, as he thinks they are a joke.
"Listen soldier, I don't like this anymore than you, but this guy has experience with the enemy one way or another.", says the General. "That's the only reason that we are even bringing him along. He has insight for their strategies and what we are up against. Now, with that said, I'm going to entertain the fact that he probably wants his ship. He won't be able to go far, should he try to escape. As I understand, there have been security measures made to ensure that."
"Permission to speak freely, sir?", asks the Sargent. The General nods his head yes. "Sir, I don't know how to pilot his ship. What would you have me do?", says the Sargent.
"Son, you joined the volunteer battle fleet. You overcome and adapt. This is what we've been training for.", says the General. "So, if the shit hits the proverbial fan, you won't disappoint us. That's why you were selected for this mission."
The two men make their way back over to P-T who is now looking at all the guards with his arms crossed across his chest. "Just so we're clear, this wasn't a negotiation, we see the potential advantage of using your ship along with our vessels. So, we are allowing you to take your ship with Sargent Aldelay as your copilot.", says the General.
P-T grinning with satisfaction with their decision says, "You cocksuckers disabled it."
"We are aware of that.", says the General. "Ensign, contact mission control and get a team on that ship ASAP." As he tells a young woman who is holding a handheld tablet; inspecting one of the ships nearby. She gives a salute and runs to the nearest office. Then the General points to a transport vehicle inside the hangar. "Shall we get a move on then?"
The vehicle has a large bed with a canopy large enough to transport all of the guards that are closely monitoring P-T. The General says to the guards, "You men in the back with the pri- ..the mission specialist", correcting himself. Sargent you’re driving."
Half of the men run over to the vehicle on the General's orders while the other half try to get P-T to follow suit. However, in a show of stubbornness P-T makes his way over to the vehicle in his own time. Surprisingly, since it's his life that really hangs in the balance. Once he's on and seated, the remaining guards climb aboard. With the Sargent driving the vehicle, he takes them to the tarmac where the Phantom is located.
Once they get to the Phantom, a crew of Fifteen mechanics are busy working away on the Phantom simultaneously on different places. Several machines stationed nearby are supplying light, brightening up the ship as bright as day while everyone is working on it. From inside, more mechanics and computer techs exit down the ramp of the Phantom conversing ideas and the ship’s needs.
The General exits from the passenger side of the transport "How long do we have until she's ready?", he asks to an older man in a lab coat.
The lead tech replies, "Um... it's going to be at least two more hours. There is a lot to repair along with getting the ship functional."
"You don't have two hours, I want this ship flight ready fucking yesterday!", says the General asserting his dominance.
"Sure thing sir.", says the lead tech. As he turns away, he mumbles a few words to himself under his breath through gritted teeth.
"Tahalia, let's get whoever is at home here as quickly as we can. The General wants us to be working on top of each other.", he says out loud to another technician in a lab coat.
P-T exits the transport and walks up to the Phantom with all of the armed escorts still following him closely. As he comes close to the mechanics and technicians working on the ship, he gives them a menacing glare to intimidate them for pure amusement. However, his look transforms from amusement to befuddlement when he sees some military personnel removing his EM rifles he took from the Ictarian transport. As he takes a step towards these men, all of the guards react by readying their weapons and pointing them at P-T.
The General walks up, easing the guards down, "We are confiscating these weapons you have so that our engineers can reverse engineer them and give us some much needed updates to our weaponry. Just in case you don't succeed in the mission. Besides, we don't feel that you'll be needing these out there." Turning to the guards surrounding P-T,
"Commander, you and your men are relieved. I don't think our friend here will be a danger to anyone further more."
Dismayed, P-T shakes his head, as he feels the odds are being continually stacked against him. He enters the Phantom to see what else has been done to set him back. As he makes his way to the cockpit, he sees a technician sitting in the pilot’s seat working on the computer console.
Without uttering a word, P-T uses his threatening presence to intimidate the technician, along with a low growl and angry look, causing the technician to jump out of the chair and relinquish it to P-T.
"Uh sorry.", says the middle-aged technician. His long, oily, brown hair sweeping down in front of his eyes. "I wasn't told that anyone would be up here."
P-T sits in the pilot seat and overlooks the computer console to see what changes have been made with these people working on it. The annoyed look increases on his face as he examines the system's changes that have been done.
Looking over P-T's shoulder, the technician begins to explain to P-T what has been done. "Okay, so... uh... what we've done on the engines here is we rerouted the boost converter to improve the efficiency for the filters reducing harmonic distortion. The distortion was creating lag in the system's intermodulation slowing the coolant inducers. We started there and then ah... we chang-"
"I don't think he's gonna like anything you did.", says Sargent Aldelay stepping beside the technician at the threshold. "If there isn't any further work to be done here, you may leave."
The technician nods his head yes and steps out of the cockpit. Sargent Aldelay sits down in the co-pilots seat and starts to familiarize himself with the computer systems. "I'm gonna let you pilot this pile of shit. Simply for the reason that I don't have the patience to fucking deal with it. Just so you understand, by no means does this put you in fucking command of the mission. You got that mister?"
P-T ignores the Sargent while he still works the computer console. He then pulls a S.L.A.G. bar he retrieved from his quarters, out from the pocket of his pants and has a few much needed bites.
On the intercom, a voice comes through, "Alpha one, do you read me?", says a male voice.
Sargent Aldelay taps a key on the console in front of him, "Go for Alpha one, mission control."
"Roger that, mission control is reading you loud and clear. We are running final tests and it looks like about forty-five minutes until ignition. Copy Alpha one.", says the man over the intercom.
"Copy mission control. Forty-five mikes till running hot.", says Sargent Aldelay.
P-T in the pilot’s seat is having a bit of a laugh at all the 'professionalism' between the Sargent and mission control.
The fiery Sargent responds to P-T's mockery, "Something funny?"
P-T stands up from the chair and in a rare occurrence says, "Nope, wake me up in 45 mikes."
As he leaves the cockpit, he farts directly in the face of the Sargent to piss him off further. The Sargent reacts, initially angry to the point of violence, but immediately changes to gagging as the horrendous smell of the fart chokes out the air from his lungs, forcing him to leave the cockpit as well.
P-T returns forty-five minutes later to the cockpit to find a red-faced Sargent Aldelay with bloodshot eyes from vomiting; gripping the controls so tight in anger that his knuckles are white.
"Mission control to Alpha one, we are all green. Go for ignition when you're ready.", says the man over the intercom.
Sargent Aldelay looks over to P-T, "That's you fucko. Let’s get this over with."
Without making eye contact, P-T gives Sergeant Aldelay the middle finger while he presses a key on the console, causing the engines fire up. The thrust from the power behind them, pushes both Aldelay and P-T back in their chairs, as the Phantom rips through the air; trembling everything inside from the turbulence. After a couple moments, the turbulence subsides as they increase in altitude until they've finally left the atmosphere of the planet.
"Alpha one, you are good for full engine thrust. You should reach the rendezvous point in approximately two hours. In the meantime, communications will be black, good luck men."
Sargent Aldelay taps a key on the console to turn off the intercom. "Fuck me, two hours in this bucket of shit with you.", says the Sargent annoyed. "Do you think that you can keep the bodily functions to a minimum?"
P-T ignoring him, continues to pilot the Phantom.
"Hey," Sargent Aldlelay says snapping his fingers to get P-T's attention. "If this is gonna work between the two of us, you really need to start talking."
Still nothing from P-T.
Sighing, Sargent Aldelay says, "So REALLY, what's your deal? Are you some halfwit mongoloid too stupid to talk? Mommy and Daddy didn't hug you enough? Come on, it's gotta be something. Look if you play your cards right, you can gain an ally out of this, and I could help you with the council's decision for killing all of those guards."
P-T reaches into his pocket for a S.L.A.G. bar and starts to eat it slowly.
"What's that you're eating? That a brownie or a protein bar?", says Aldelay interested. "You know, I'm kinda hungry too since your nasty fucking fart made me lose my lunch. Can I have one?"
P-T extends the same bar he was chewing on to Aldelay and says, "Last one."
"See, sharing is caring, guy. It's nice to see you actually attempt human interaction.", says the Sargent sarcastically.
The Sargent takes a small bite and starts to chew the S.L.A.G. bar analyzing its taste. "Huh, I can't really put my finger on the taste. It's like-". A shocked look comes over his face as all of the blood rushes out of his skin. He stands up quickly to get out of the cockpit only to fall to his knees at the threshold gagging and dry heaving, as he attempts to vomit.
P-T is all the while laughing quietly at Sargent Aldelay, knowing this was going to happen, as he finishes the bar he has.
Sargent Aldelay returns to the cockpit almost two hours later, completely exhausted from throwing up nearly the entire time. His jumpsuit soaked and face is covered with sweat, his color hasn't returned to its original shade. His legs feel like dead weight as he walks in to sit down "You cocksucker.", he says weakly. "You fucking knew that would happen didn't you.
P-T shrugs his shoulders while he looks at the computer console sensor readings. On the screen, over twenty green circles show in a T-shaped formation. Inside the circles are ship profiles of the battle fleet.
"Motherfucker you are lucky we are at the rendezvous. If I had the strength, I would whoop your ass into next fucking system.", says the Sargent.
P-T scoffs at the Sargent while adjusting the Phantom's trajectory to be in formation with the rest of the squad. Through the viewport, the light blue haze of the engines glow brightly in the darkness as they lead the way to intercept the intruding scout ships.
Total silence encompasses the Phantom except for the humming of the engines, as the tension rises in anticipation of the upcoming battle. On the console screen, four red circles appear, showing a great distance that separates the two forces.
As the distance closes rapidly, the Fiortegan battle fleet changes formation into an attack position. The Phantom stays on its trajectory behind the fleet. Suddenly, hundreds of bright crimson flashes of light appear just beyond the Phantom; blinding as the shots fill the viewport, as the weapon batteries of both forces begin firing. The battle fleet breaks formation and begin to group up and attack each scout ship. All the while, the Phantom is still on its current path.
"Hey! What the fuck are you doing? The fight is over there!", yells the Sargent at P-T, who ignores his questions.
"Turn this ship around right now and engage those scout ships right fucking now.", instructs the Sargent.
Seeing that P-T won't cooperate, Aldelay reaches for his sidearm to leverage his demands. P-T quickly reacts, grabbing the Sargent's hand by the wrist at the holster and knocks him out with a single punch, leaving him slumped back in the chair unconscious. The red mark where the blow landed is immediately starting to swell and bru
ise on the right side of his face.
Shortly after a communication comes through the intercom, "Alpha one this is mission control, redirect and enter the combat zone." Several moments pass and the same voice comes through on the intercom. "Alpha one, redirect and return to combat zone now. That is a direct order."
Ignoring the communications, P-T continues to pilot the Phantom to the outskirts of the Fiortega system. Not long after, the sensors on the computer console registers seven vessels in pursuit of the Phantom from the combat zone. At a closer look, it looks like all of the scout ships have been destroyed and the remaining vessels were sent to intercept the Phantom.
Suddenly, the sensors pick up a new large ship in front of P-T, causing P-T to change direction and set an intercept course for the new vessel. As the Phantom gets closer to the giant vessel, Sargent Aldelay starts to regain consciousness.
