by M. R. Forbes
"What's happening?" Gabriel asked.
"The resistance got our message. They already have a couple of alien rifles, if you believe that. Not only that, they've used them to kill a couple of the aliens."
"That's great news," Gabriel said. It was about time they had managed to do a little bit of damage against their enemy. "How did they manage to send a signal out here?"
"That's the bad news. The Dread are swarming their position, which may or may not already be overrun or lost. A small team led by Major Donovan Peters traced the source of our message back to an old Deep Space Network station of all things. Hah. They used it to transmit out here. They want to organize a pickup."
"It's ten hours back to Earth," Gabriel said, his earlier misgivings about landing on the surface lost in the moment. "Can they last that long?"
"No. Not now. They had to burn the station's backup power supply to adjust the antenna position and get the message out. Not to mention, the motion is bound to attract the Dread."
"Which means they may be dead already."
"We ain't going there, son," Theodore said.
They reached the conference room. Colonel Choi and the scientists joined them less than a minute later.
"I don't understand," Guy said. "We just spoke to you."
"You remember all that stuff I asked you for twenty minutes ago?" Theodore said. "I need it now."
"What?" Guy said. "General, we can't possibly produce any kind of accurate information in less than twenty minutes. We need time to-"
Sarah put her hand up, cutting her husband off. "I thought we had twelve days?"
"Things change fast in war," Theodore said. "We've got one shot to get our hands on an alien weapon, but the only way we make it is if you get us to Earth in the next thirty minutes."
"Thirty minutes?" Reza said. "General, it can't-" Theodore flashed him an angry look. "Okay. I mean, my algorithm hasn't been tested, but we're far enough out we should be able to get it to work. I assume you want to bring the Magellan close to Earth, but far enough out that the orbital defenses won't start shooting at you?"
"No, Mr. Mokri. I want you to bring the Magellan in past the orbital defense ring."
"What?" Reza and Gabriel both said at the same time.
"General, that's suicide," Guy said. "You'll kill every one of us."
"Maybe I will. Mr. Mokri, what's your margin of error?"
"I'd have to check, sir."
"Guess."
"Plus or minus one hundredth of a second?"
"A slipstream ride from here to Earth will take less than two seconds," Guy said. "That's more than enough to throw the position completely."
"I can get it to one ten-thousandth if I can run the calculations," Reza said.
"You can not," Guy replied.
"Yes, I can. General, I'm sure I can. I have an idea."
"That's the spirit," Theodore said. "Go do what you need to do."
"Yes, sir." Reza turned and ran down the hallway toward his quarters.
"General, this isn't going work," Guy said.
Theodore glared at Guy, opening his mouth, ready to explode.
"Guy, we're doing this one way or another," Gabriel said, interrupting. "Two seconds is too fast for a human to start and stop the QPG. We'll need to automate the shutdown."
"Me? I'm not a software engineer."
"Then go back to your room and get out of my face," Theodore said. "I thought you were coming around to our way of thinking, but I guess you're just a yellow-bellied couillon after all."
"I can do it," Sarah said. "But I need full access to the ship's computer."
"You can use the Command Station. Access code is 7-2-4-8-9-1-5-6. Can you remember that?"
"7-2-4-8-9-1-4-6," Sarah repeated. "I've got it."
"You're a smart cookie. Be careful with Maggie, Mrs. Larone. She's a delicate flower."
"Yes, General." She eyed Guy angrily before rushing from the room.
"Captain, head on down to the hangar and prep your squad. If we survive the slip, you'll be launching directly into the thermosphere."
"And then what, General?" Gabriel asked.
"One of your team needs to touch down on top of Mount Tlaloc in what used to be Mexico. You probably flew over it on your pass. Collect the alien rifle from the ground team and get the hell out of there. The rest of the squad runs interference."
"Interference? We don't have any firepower."
"I don't care how you do it, Captain. Ram them with your fighters if you have to. We need to get that weapon back to the Magellan."
"And then we need to get the Magellan away from Earth."
Theodore smiled. "You let me handle that, son. I beat those bastards once, and I'm damn well going to do it again."
SEVENTY-FIVE
"Did it work?" Donovan asked.
"I think so," Matteo said, turning away from the now dead computer.
It had taken nearly twelve hours for Matteo and Ehri to get the transmission sent. The complexity and age of the system had been a challenging barrier to overcome, even with the help of the operations manual. On top of that, their first attempt to reposition the antenna to Mars' azimuth had been met with total failure, as a frayed wire connecting the station to the parabolic transmitter caused the commands to die silently.
The two of them had eventually figured it out, and the message had been sent.
He could only pray that it would be received and acted on.
"Let's round up the rest of the squad," he said. "We need to be out of here and up the mountain to the rendezvous point."
"Do you think the Dread noticed?" Matteo asked. "The antenna wasn't exactly quiet."
They were lucky it had moved at all with nearly one hundred years of vegetation attached to it.
Donovan glanced at Ehri, who shrugged. "I don't know. Anything is possible, which is all the more reason not to linger."
They abandoned the control room, heading for the exit. Colonel Montero was standing against the wall there, staring out into the night.
"Major," he said when he saw Donovan. "Success?"
"Yes."
"Excellent."
Donovan put his fingers to his mouth and blew softly. A reply came a moment later. Then another. Then another.
"Only three," Montero said.
Donovan made the signal again. Again, three whistles in reply.
"Why aren't there four?" Matteo asked.
A plasma bolt lit the night, a red flash that struck Colonel Montero in the chest, sending him flopping backward and to the ground.
"Mierda," Matteo said, ducking back into the building.
Donovan shoved Ehri against the wall, scanning for the source of the shot. No others followed.
"They're on to us," Donovan said. "Damn it." He put his fingers to his mouth and blew a new signal, warning the others. He saw a flash in the trees to the north. Who had gone that way? The echo of rifle fire confirmed the position was under attack.
"We can't stay here, Major," Ehri said.
"I know. We have to get up the mountain."
"What about the others?" Matteo asked.
"They'll follow if they can."
He stuck his head out from the entrance, trying to scan the trees in the darkness. "Their soldiers can see in the dark. Can you?"
"Better than you, but not like them," Ehri replied.
"Do you see anything?"
"No."
"Come on."
He stared out of the building, keeping the Dread plasma rifle raised and ready. He only made it a single step when he heard a branch snap to his left. He backpedaled just in time to regain the cover as a plasma bolt seared into the wall.
"We're pinned down," he said. The soldier had vanished into the woods again, taking advantage of its superiority in the dark.
"We can't stay here," Ehri repeated. "They'll send a fighter to blast this building to dust if the lor'hai can't root you out."
"I don't suppose we can reason with them?"
"No. They haven't been exposed to freedom the way I have. They won't understand it. Not yet."
"So, what do you suggest?"
"We have to make a run for it."
Donovan looked back at Matteo. He was pressed against the wall, his face pale.
"Matteo, are you with me, amigo?"
Matteo didn't answer.
"Matteo? Come on, bro. You need to snap out of it."
More gunfire sounded from the east, and the sky flashed again. The shooting stopped. They were being picked off one at a time.
"Matteo?" Donovan said, grabbing his arm. "I don't want to have to leave you here."
Matteo's eyes shifted. "Donovan?"
"Come on, amigo. It's time to run."
"I don't want to die."
"Stick with me, you won't die. I promise. Okay?"
"Okay."
Donovan inched to the edge of the doorway again, looking out into the darkness once more. He jutted his neck out once more, peering through the opening.
A bright flash ahead of him caused him to duck back, but nothing hit the wall.
He looked out again. Diaz ran to the doorway.
"You're clear, Major," she said.
"The others?"
She shook her head. "I don't think so. I saw Wade get hit. I nailed the bastard who killed him."
He would have time to mourn his people if he survived.
"Fast feet, eyes open," he said.
"Yes, sir."
They sprinted from the doorway, into the trees and away. Branches slapped Donovan's body as he barreled in front of the remainder of his squad, absorbing the blows with the alien cloth. The drop point was five kilometers up the mountain. General Rodriguez had chosen the spot because they could reach it on foot and because there was a small plateau where a starfighter could likely land. It was fairly close. Right now, it seemed impossibly far.
Not that it mattered. It would be nearly ten hours before General St. Martin would be able to reach them from Mars. They had to stay in the area, which meant there was no way to lose the Dread soldiers.
They had to fight, but how? The enemy could see them, but they couldn't see the enemy.
He tried to ignore the cold truth of their situation, but it began creeping through him, a chill that started at his chest and started working its way outward.
They were going to die.
Worse, they were going to fail.
SEVENTY-SIX
"This is Leader One. Fighter Squadron Alpha, sound off," Gabriel said.
"Alpha Two, standing by," Captain Kim said.
"Alpha Three, standing by," Lieutenant Ribisi said.
"Alpha Four, standing by," Second Lieutenant Bale said.
"Alpha Five, standing by," Second Lieutenant Polski said.
Gabriel tapped his control pad. "Fighter Squadron Alpha is standing by, General."
"Roger," Theodore replied. "Hold position and prepare for launch."
"Roger."
Gabriel looked out at the bare metal walls of the launch tube he and his fighter had been placed in. The rest of the squad was arranged in the other four tubes on either side of his, part of the half dozen that lay on each side of the Magellan. He wished he could see into space from where he was. He wasn't claustrophobic, but riding blind when he was used to being in control was making him a little tense.
It had taken Reza almost an hour to return to Theodore with his calculations and an updated slip algorithm that he swore was almost error free, with the important word being almost. Reza had started to try to tell the General that perfection was impossible, but had stopped himself before he got in trouble. Instead, he had turned the algorithm over to Sarah Larone, who used the Command Station to make the changes to Maggie's software. Between that untested math and the better half of the Larones' untested hack into the QPG controls, Gabriel figured there was a one percent chance or so that they would even survive the entry and exit from the slipstream.
And that was being generous.
Even so, he was able to hold on to a certain calm. Either it was all going to end, or perhaps something new would begin. A chance to fight back against the aliens who had taken their world. A chance for humankind to rise up and prosper once more.
To him, it was a chance worth dying for.
"Stand by, Alpha Leader," Miranda said through his comm.
"Beginning acceleration to slip velocity," Theodore said. He had left the comm open so that the squadron could hear.
A soft hum rose in the launch tube as the main thrusters on the rear of the Magellan began to fire.
Gabriel reached down and clutched his mother's crucifix, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. He closed his eyes, thinking of the picture of her that he had grown up with. "We're keeping our promise, Mom," he whispered. Then he smiled. "I bet you always knew we would."
"Ten-thousand," Theodore said. "Maggie, prepare the QPG."
"Yes, General," the computer said.
"Fifteen-thousand," Theodore said. "Get ready."
Gabriel lowered the crucifix, moving his hands to the fighter's control sticks. The slip was going to be short. Shorter than should even be possible. Shorter than might be possible. They were fortunate there was even a current to carry them.
"Eighteen-thousand," Theodore said. "Maggie, darlin', you know what to do."
The ship shuddered slightly as the QPG was engaged, beginning the process of phasing the starship into slipspace. Gabriel breathed in, finding that breath caught in his throat.
"One one-thousand, two one-thousand," he counted in his head.
"Launch Alpha Squadron," Theodore barked crisply.
"Launching," Miranda replied.
Gabriel was shoved back in his seat as the fighter was rocketed forward through the tube. They were still alive, which meant the slip had been successful. He wouldn't know if they had come out as intended until he reached open space.
He remembered to breathe out.
The fighter burst from the side of the starship in unison with the rest of the squadron. Earth was directly ahead of them. The Magellan was already yawing to allow them an easy departure into the atmosphere.
"I can't believe he did it," Soon said over the comm.
"Stay focused," Gabriel replied. "Bring weapons online."
"They won't do anything," Ribisi said.
"Bring them online," Gabriel barked.
"Yes, sir."
They hit the atmosphere, blinding heat pushing off the front of the fighters as they descended. The Magellan lumbered behind them, crossing the planet just out of reach of the gravitational pull, safely behind the net of deadly satellites.
"Follow my lead," Gabriel said. "If anything happens to me, you have to get down and retrieve the weapon."
"Yes, sir," the pilots said.
They continued to descend, coming in hard and fast. The sun was on the other side of the planet, leaving it draped in darkness as they burst into the sky. The Dread had no time to prepare for them. There was no advance warning from the outer defenses. The squadron raced across the landscape, headed for the mountain.
Ten seconds passed. Twenty. The mountain came into view ahead of them, lit only by the multitude of stars and outlined on Gabriel's HUD.
"Cut throttle. Form up, pattern bravo. Eyes open."
He slowed his fighter. The mountain was approaching in a hurry. Even in the dim light of the stars he could see the line of downed trees where the two Dread fighters had crashed. It looked like they had managed to get airborne again.
"Alpha Leader, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Bale asked.
He wasn't. "What do you have, Alpha Four?"
"The mountain, sir. The western side. It doesn't look like it's very far from the drop point."
Gabriel turned his attention to the area. He didn't see anything at first. Only the shape of the canopy in silhouette against the dark.
A sudden flash below the trees sent light rippling out and around. Three more followed.
"That looks like plasma," Kim said.
"It has to be the resistance," Gabriel replied.
"Alpha Leader, we've got company," Polksi said. "Two bogeys, headed our way from the direction of the Dread city."
"Probably the same two I sent into the trees once already. Alpha Four, Alpha Five, peel off and see if you can keep them distracted. Remember, they can't maneuver as well as you can."
"Yes, sir," Bale and Polski said, breaking from the formation and turning to engage.
"What about us?" Ribisi asked.
"Low and slow, Alpha Three. It doesn't matter if we make it to the drop zone if the rebels don't."
SEVENTY-SEVEN
Donovan grabbed Matteo's shoulder, pulling him to the side and behind a tree as a bolt of plasma pierced the spot where he had been standing.
"You can't come out from cover like that, amigo. You're going to get yourself killed."
Matteo looked up at him, his eyes glazed over with fear.
They had been making a slow but steady retreat from the Deep Space Network Station to the pickup site, backing toward it while trading fire with the Dread clone soldiers. The battle had started fairly intense, but at this point it was becoming tedious. Donovan had been hoping Matteo would get used to it after he didn't get hit with the first three hundred or so rounds. He couldn't believe his friend was so skittish.
"We can't keep this up," Diaz said, leaning against the trunk of the tree next to Ehri. "We're going to kill our guns before we can hand one over."
"I think we're almost there," Donovan said. "It can't be more than another half-kilometer."
Diaz leaned out, searching the night for the soldiers. "I think we have a break. Let's move."
Donovan grabbed Matteo's shirt and pulled him up. They raced as one unit toward the next line of trees a dozen meters ahead. Plasma bolts flew by, one of them passing so close to Donovan's foot that he felt the tingle as it burned.
They slipped behind the tree, with Diaz firing back as they did. Two shots to conserve power.
"We only need to do that about fifty more times," she said.
