by Linn Schwab
“We can’t go back through the debris field,” Caroline insisted. “We don’t have enough fuel left for that.”
“Which of the other two ways is shortest?” Robin asked.
“It’s hard to tell. It looks like going over the top would get us back to friendly space sooner. But if we go around the end, we should end up a little closer to Valhalla.”
“Then we’re going around the end,” Robin said. “We need to get Sheri back as soon as possible. Set a course for us, Michelle. And try to keep us close to the edge of the debris field. If we spot another enemy ship, we’re gonna need somewhere to hide.” She stood up and walked to Caroline’s side. “Do you think we have enough fuel left to make it?”
Caroline shrugged. “I guess we’re gonna find out.”
“Course is ready,” Michelle announced.
Robin gave Caroline a gentle tap on the shoulder. “Okay,” she said, “let’s get under way.”
Caroline applied gentle pressure to the throttle and the Wallaby slowly began to move forward. The battered ship withdrew from the safety of her hiding place and slipped out into the open again. A few seconds later, she was picking up speed in a race to deliver her crew to safety.
Things had fallen quiet in the control room on Volaris. Hearts were still heavy from the loss of ECHO 5, and the death of Commander Jeffries had only added to the sorrow. Operations had been returned to normal for the most part, and only a small number of controllers were still present. Most of the monitors that had been keyed to the Wallaby’s cameras had since been put to use for other purposes. Only one of the screens was still following her progress, and no one was paying it any attention. Nobody noticed the blinking line of text that read:
CVS WALLABY – POWER RESTORED
DETERMINATION 040
Following an order to report to the assembly room, Christy lined up with the rest of her battalion while still somewhat dazed by recent tragic events. Without the presence of ECHO 5, the formation felt awkward and unbalanced to her. The emptiness on that end of the line seemed to mimic what she was feeling inside. Even the very sound of silence in the room had an unfamiliar resonance to it.
Moments later, Major Richards walked in and stood near the midpoint of the formation. Her face seemed frozen in a hollow expression that wasn’t totally unexpected. She looked at the girls in silence for a moment, as if she’d forgotten why she’d summoned them. Finally, she cleared her throat and began to speak in a wavering voice.
“Sentinels,” the major began, “as some of you may have already heard, Commander Jeffries is no longer with us. Her loss, unfortunately, comes at a time when her strength and compassion would have been of great benefit to us. I think we can probably agree that we are all better off for having known her.
“As a result of the commander’s passing, it is my duty and obligation to assume her responsibilities until a replacement for her is appointed. This does not, however, absolve me of my own responsibilities, so my attentions are going to have to be split for a while. Due to the increase in demands this is going to place on me, I am temporarily suspending your formal training. I encourage you to continue learning on your own, and I’m going to make the archives openly accessible to you with that express purpose in mind. If you have any questions or difficulties, feel free to consult with any officer on this station. If something needs to be brought to my attention, I’ll try to respond to it as quickly as possible.
“Now … one more thing. What happened to ECHO 5 was a terrible tragedy. The circumstances leading up to their loss were entirely unpredictable. But I want to be perfectly clear about something, so there is no misunderstanding on your part. No one intended to send a training squad into combat, nor would we ever expect that of you. However, after witnessing the skill and courage of your comrades, it is clear to me now that an error in judgement was made. Therefore, after careful consideration, I have decided that all training missions from this time forward are going to leave this station fully armed. As I said, no one expects you to engage in combat. But, should you find yourself in a situation where that becomes a possibility, the decision is going to be yours to make. That’s all I have for now. Dismissed.”
Christy took a deep breath and went over the major’s words in her mind. Being released from the normal training schedule created new possibilities for her. For a brief period of time at least, she was free to pursue any objective she desired. And what she desired more than anything right now was to make up for the opportunity which had been denied to Robin.
Katrina scrolled through the options on Sheri’s console as she tried to acquaint herself with its functions. There were a whole host of things that would have been under Sheri’s control; but she was still lying unconscious on the floor, unable to offer her much needed assistance.
Michelle stood up and made her way across the bridge to where Phoebe was propping Sheri up in her arms. She sat down on the floor next to Phoebe and tried to peer underneath Sheri’s bandage. “Let me hold her for a while,” she pleaded, then carefully accepted Sheri’s body from Phoebe. She leaned back against the base of the wall and pulled Sheri up close and tight to her chest. “I’m sorry, Sheri,” she tearfully whispered. “This is all my fault. I did this to you.”
Phoebe stood up and examined the ceiling where the emergency seal had plugged the gash in the hull. A large pillow–shaped object now straddled the opening, covered by a thick layer of deep black resin.
“I thought we were all dead for sure,” she said. “I was literally looking right at the stars! What’s this?” she asked, pointing toward the pillow–shaped object. “It looks like a giant bubble or something.”
“Don’t touch it,” Robin insisted. “I think it’s some sort of inflatable device. The ship must release them into the airstream when there’s a hole that’s too big for the seal to plug.”
Phoebe backed away from the object and continued staring at it in wonder. “All of this technology we have,” she mused, “and our lives end up being saved by a bubble.”
“We’re not safe yet,” Robin reminded her. “I need everyone to keep a lookout for enemy ships.”
Phoebe sat down at the auxiliaries console and started watching for signs of movement outside.
“I think we should dim the cabin lights,” Katrina suggested. “That might make us a little harder to spot.”
“Okay,” Robin said, “go ahead and dim them.”
Katrina made a slight adjustment and the lighting faded to just a faint glow. The bridge fell silent for a while now as the Wallaby continued along Michelle’s course. Only the sound of the engines persisted — a gentle continuous roar that threatened to lull the girls to sleep.
Following the outer edge of the debris field, Caroline kept her speed down to a minimum to avoid colliding with scattered objects. Approaching an isolated cluster of rocks, she rolled the Wallaby slightly to the right to avoid any chance of running into them. The sudden movement jostled Sheri, eliciting a faint moaning sound from her.
“Robin?” Sheri weakly called out.
“I’m here,” Robin answered her.
“I can’t see,” Sheri complained.
Robin closed her eyes and swallowed. “I know,” she somberly replied. She tried to think of something more to say, but her emotions were interfering with her thoughts. “Mindy,” she whispered, “get a wet towel or something, and see if you can wipe some of the blood off from her.”
Mindy nodded and obediently got up to follow her instructions.
“Hang in there, Sheri,” Robin implored her. “We’re on our way back to Volaris right now.”
OBJECTIVES 041
Virginia was being kept awake again by the same old dreams that continued to haunt her. She quietly pulled herself out of bed and made her way back to the observation lounge. To her surprise, there was someone else present in the lounge, sitting alone in the darkness at one of the tables. She could tell by the outline of the girl’s uniform that she was a member of Robin’s ba
ttalion. As she moved in a little closer to the girl, she realized it was Christy Allison. Her face glowed in the light of a Portable Archive Interface that was resting on the tabletop in front of her.
“What are you doing?” Virginia asked as she sat down at the table with her.
Christy slowly looked up from the tabletop — her eyes betraying a deep state of weariness. “I’m studying tactics,” she explained, then stared back down at the interface again.
“You should be in bed sleeping,” Virginia told her. “It’s easier to learn when your mind is fresh.”
“I don’t care if it’s easy or not. I just want to make sure I’m ready.”
“Ready for what? Are you really that eager to end up like Robin?”
“Ready to kill Earthlings,” Christy insisted. “I can’t wait to start killing them. I’m going to kill more of them than anyone. I’m going to make them pay for starting this war with us. I’m going to make them pay for what happened to Robin.”
Virginia shook her head in disapproval. “You’re just going to burn yourself out,” she cautioned. “And you’re going to burn yourself up inside in the process. Look at me,” she insisted, leaning in closer to Christy. “Look in my eyes. What do you see in there? There’s nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “There’s nothing left of me. And if you keep following down the path that you’re on, the same thing is going to happen to you. Think about the members of your squad, Christy. Think about how much they need you. Don’t allow the Earthlings to dominate your thoughts. Just try to put them out of your mind.”
Christy took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds, attempting to follow Virginia’s advice. “I can’t,” she wistfully insisted. “I hate them. Why do they want our planet anyway?”
Virginia stood up and walked over to the windows, and gazed down on the brightly glowing sphere of Valhalla. “Why wouldn’t they?” she softly remarked as she marveled at the planet’s bluish–green colorations.
Robin decided her eyes needed a break from the strain of scanning for enemy vessels. She stood up from her chair and stretched her muscles, then wandered over behind Caroline’s station. “How are we doing?” she asked. “Do you think we still have a chance to make it?”
Caroline glanced at the fuel gauge again. “We’re definitely not burning as much fuel out here. I guess it depends on how much farther it is.”
Robin looked at the map on Michelle’s console. “It looks like we’ve still got quite a ways to go. Let me know when you need to take another break. I’ll have Phoebe take over again.”
“Okay.”
After carefully stepping over Sheri’s body, Robin sat down on the floor beside her. She gently grasped one of Sheri’s hands and held it snugly against her chest. “Are you still awake, Sheri?” she asked.
Sheri answered her with a nod.
“Can you see anything yet?”
“A little,” she said. “But everything’s still a little blurry.”
Robin sighed and laid her head on Sheri’s shoulder. “You’ll be alright,” she promised. “Major Richards will fix you. She’ll know what to do.”
Sheri attempted to focus her eyes on an object that was lying just beyond her feet. She recognized it as the Wallaby’s first aid kit — a polymer duffel–like container with the ship’s name clearly printed on its side. “Robin,” she asked, “what does CVS mean?”
“CVS?” Robin asked, confused.
Sheri pointed at the side of the container, where CVS WALLABY was stenciled in white letters.
“Oh,” Robin said, then closed her eyes. “It stands for ‘Combat Vessel of the Sentinel Fleet.’”
Sheri contemplated the meaning of the letters for a moment. “What kind of combat vessel doesn’t have any weapons on board?”
Robin hesitated before answering. “Apparently this kind,” she finally said, trying her best not to let it upset her.
Moved by the comfort she was drawing from Robin’s presence, Sheri found herself overcome with a longing to help her friends in any way possible. She was distraught that her injuries had incapacitated her, leaving her incapable of performing her duties. “I wish I was a machine,” she said, “so I could be invincible.”
“Nothing is invincible,” Robin insisted. “Even those rocks out there can be destroyed.”
“But if I was a machine, then maybe I wouldn’t be sitting here hurt on the floor. And maybe I could keep all of you safe.”
“I wouldn’t want that, Sheri,” Robin said. “It would be awful if you were a machine. It hurts me that you’re hurt because I care about you. But it doesn’t hurt me that the Wallaby is hurt, because I can’t care about a machine. Even if it could keep all of us safe. And if you would have been a machine, Sheri, the rest of us would have missed out on something. But this way, whatever happens to us now, at least we all had a few years together. And those years can never be taken away from us.”
“You were wrong about something, then,” Sheri told her. She relaxed and laid her cheek against Robin’s head.
“Wrong about what?” Robin asked.
“Something is invincible, Robin. The past can never be destroyed.”
VALHALLA 042
After catching a few precious hours of sleep, Virginia awoke to an empty room. She eventually found the rest of her squadron in the lounge, sitting quietly with empty expressions on their faces. The looks in their eyes suggested overwhelming sorrow, lack of resolve, and a prevailing sentiment of apathy. Soon they’d be flying to the carrier Typhoon, with a return to combat certain to occur shortly thereafter. But she could see they weren’t in any condition to fight, and she feared they wouldn’t have enough time to recover before being pressed into action again. Still haunted by the loss of her first fighter squadron, she decided she was not going to lose another one.
Major Richards was working in Commander Jeffries’ office when she heard Virginia’s knock at the door. She stood up and waved her into the room. “Lieutenant Scot,” she said, “what can I help you with?”
“It’s my squadron,” Virginia said. “I need to talk to you about them.”
“What about them?”
Virginia looked into her eyes with sincerity. “You have to let them go.”
“Let them go? I don’t understand.”
“You can’t send them back into combat. You’d just be sending them all to their deaths. It’s time to let them go, Major. There’s no fight left in any of them.”
“Virginia,” the major insisted, “your squadron is an invaluable asset to our forces. I can’t just relieve them of their obligations. They have a duty to fight, just like all the rest of us.”
Virginia looked aside for a moment and searched her thoughts for a way to make her case. “Think about Commander Jeffries,” she said, hoping the major would understand her reasoning. “If you could have strapped her into a fighter in those last few minutes, what do you think would have happened to her? Sure, you could have ordered her to fly into battle. But do you really think she would have been able to fight?”
The major closed her eyes and nodded. “I see what you mean. Very well. Tell your squadron to meet me in the assembly room. I’ll join you there in a couple of minutes.”
Virginia nodded and turned to leave the room.
“Virginia,” Major Richards interrupted her. “You said that I should release the others. What about yourself? Don’t you want to be released as well?”
Virginia stopped inside the doorway and hesitated before answering. “I…” she started to speak indecisively as she carefully considered the major’s offer, “…have to keep fighting,” she finally explained. She stood there in silence a few seconds longer, knowing she might come to regret this decision. This was her chance to escape from the fighting, and she was willingly allowing it to slip away from her. She briefly glanced over her shoulder at the major, then headed off to locate the rest of her squadron.
When Major Richards arrived at the assembly room, Jenny’s squadron
was already waiting for her. They weren’t standing at attention or in any kind of formation, nor was she expecting them to. She got a sense from the questioning looks on their faces that Virginia hadn’t told them yet why she had summoned them. It should be interesting, she thought, to see how they react to this when I tell them.
“Captain McNeil,” Major Richards began, “you and every member of your squadron have proven yourselves to be exemplary Sentinels. Your contributions to the war effort have been a tremendous benefit to us, and the records of your accomplishments speak for themselves. However … due to the recent loss of ECHO 5, and the resulting impact it appears to have had on all of you, I have been asked by a member of your squadron to reconsider your continued participation in the war. As the current acting commander of Volaris, I do have the authority to make adjustments in assignments. And I can clearly see that your current state of readiness for combat does indeed appear to have been adversely affected. Therefore, I have decided to alter your unit’s status. As of this moment … with the exception of Lieutenant Virginia Scot … I’m releasing all of you from Sentinel service.”
The Hornets looked at each other in confusion, as if they couldn’t believe what their ears were hearing.
The major continued, “There’s a shuttle standing by for you right now in the hangar. I’m assigning Virginia to fly you down to Valhalla. I want to personally thank all of you for your service, and I hope you’ll be able to find some degree of happiness on the world you’ve been fighting so bravely to defend. Dismissed.”
The squadron seemed reluctant to move. Not one of them took even a single step forward. Major Richards gestured toward the door with both hands. “Go!” she insisted, “before I change my mind. You will never get this opportunity again.”
Moving with pronounced hesitation in their steps, the pilots began to walk toward the door, casting looks of uncertainty at Major Richards. It was easy to read the confusion in their eyes. None of them seemed to be sure what to make of this.
