by M. R. Forbes
The Bats started shooting, sending streams of plasma bolts toward them. Gabriel shifted the control stick, winding his way through the sudden rain. Bolts flashed in front of the cockpit, his onboard computer sounding off in both warning and complaint. He glanced to the left, to Captain Kim, who was managing to wiggle enough to keep the enemy off the mark. He couldn't see Bale, but her green arrow was still on his HUD. He hoped it would stay there.
They continued to climb, pushing higher and higher. The Dread couldn't ascend as quickly and began to fall behind. The growing distance caused them to intensify their fire, filling the air with so much plasma that Gabriel had no idea how they were avoiding it. Was it divine intervention, or just unbelievable luck?
Whatever it was, it ran out a heartbeat later.
His computer beeped in rapid pulses as he became blinded by the light of a plasma bolt and the starfighter started to wobble. He cursed, checking the HUD for a damage report.
Everything was still operational. The shot had grazed him.
"Alpha Leader," Soon said. "Gabriel. I'm hit. One of the cells is offline. I don't have the power to make it into orbit."
Gabriel looked over at the other starfighter again. It was trailing smoke, and there was a gaping hole in the fuselage.
"Yes you do, Alpha Two," Gabriel said. "Get in behind me and I'll cut the air for you."
Soon's fighter spun sharply, avoiding more enemy fire as he worked his way over. Lieutenant Bale tightened her position up as well, aligning next to Gabriel's wing. They were way up above the Earth now, and he could make out the shape of the Magellan silhouetted against the stars.
They were almost there.
"Alpha Two, what are your power readings?" Gabriel asked.
"Not good, Alpha Leader," Soon replied. "I'm reaching critical."
Gabriel checked his own levels again to compare. He had nearly drained the primary cell, but the secondary was still at half. "You can make it, Soon. Hang in there."
A plasma bolt flashed by, crossing within a meter of the cockpit. The Bats had fallen back. Not far enough.
"Alpha Leader, I'm turning around," Soon said.
"You'll make it," Gabriel repeated.
"No. I won't, and when I run out of power I'm going to fall back to Earth. I'd rather land than crash, and maybe I can draw your tail away. At the very least I can disrupt them and help you escape. Anyway, I'll hook up with the resistance if I can. At least I'll get to spend some time planetside. It looks incredible, even if the Dread are ruining the view."
Gabriel was going to try to argue. He decided against it. Soon had made up his mind, and was already decelerating and rolling the fighter over.
"Damn it, Soon," Gabriel said. "Be safe down there. We'll be back for you. I promise."
"I know you will, Captain. I'll be waiting for you. Tell Daphne I'll be waiting, too, and that I love her."
Gabriel tightened his jaw. "I will."
He watched the fighter in the HUD, accelerating back down toward the Bats. It didn't matter if they collided with him or angled out of the way, as soon as they broke off the chase he and Bale would escape.
The Dread ships parted to allow Soon through, realizing that it was more efficient than being knocked off course in a collision. Even so, they lost nearly a kilometer of ground in the few seconds the evasive maneuvers took.
Gabriel looked forward again. The Magellan was looming large ahead of them as they plowed into the thermosphere, climbing higher and faster. The enemy fire had finally started to ease, and they would be home safe with the Dread weapon in less than a minute.
Without Captain Kim.
Without Lieutenant Ribisi.
Without Second Lieutenant Polski.
Gabriel was used to losing his friends and comrades. So many had died skirting the atmosphere to communicate with the resistance. Seeing it happen felt so much worse. It made it more personal. More painful. He could only imagine what the people on the ground were experiencing.
He glanced down at the Dread plasma rifle.
Not for much longer.
The two remaining fighters cleared the remainder of the atmosphere. General St. Martin's voice carried crisply through their comm systems as soon as they did, breaking protocol by not waiting to be hailed.
"Welcome back, son. What's the verdict?"
"We have the alien weapon, sir," Gabriel said. For all his upset over the deaths of his wing mates, he couldn't help but feel proud of what they had accomplished. All of them.
"I knew you would," Theodore said. "What about Kim, Ribisi, and Polski?"
"Ribisi and Polski are dead, sir. Captain Kim's fighter was damaged, and he was forced to land."
"I'll say a prayer for their souls. Soon is still alive?"
"I hope so."
"He's a good man. He'll survive. Hangar B is open. Bays One and Two."
"Yes, sir."
Gabriel leaned his head back in his seat, closing his eyes for a moment and sending a quick prayer into the universe, that Ribisi, Polski, and all the others would have a peaceful and happy eternity. Then he vectored his fighter to the waiting hangar, guiding it smoothly into the open bay.
He had done his part.
The rest of it was up to his father.
EIGHTY-TWO
Donovan stood at the edge of the plateau and watched the sky as Captain Gabriel St. Martin's fighter rose into it and raced away. His eyes did their best to follow the small glow of the ship's thrusters through the night, finding it difficult with the twinkle of the stars behind it.
Ehri stood next to him in silence, while Diaz and Matteo sat on the ground where the starfighter had been a moment earlier. Matteo had his head in his hands. He was ill from all of the violence. Diaz was trying to comfort him.
"Why did you do it?" Donovan asked without looking.
"I told you why when we met," Ehri said. "All of those words were true."
"What wasn't true?"
"The decision wasn't spontaneous. I spent weeks devising a plan to lead one of you to our ship. The water was the most challenging part. The bek'hai cannot control the weather."
"You set me up to kill your Dahm."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"He was old by drumhr standards. He was one of the first successful splices. The Domo'dahm, the previous one, gave him fifty years, and he had seen forty-eight."
"He was going to die soon anyway, so he sacrificed himself for your plan?"
"Yes."
"You spoke about the Domo'dahm as if you know him personally. How?"
"I am a clone of his heil'bek." She paused. "It is a difficult word to turn into English. It is similar to a significant other, but that meaning is imprecise because the bek'hai do not take mates. Perhaps best friend is more appropriate? I am unsure. As I told you, we all have our own personalities. He always said that mine was most similar to hers. It allowed me to persuade him to approve my study."
Donovan knew she had to be talking about Juliet St. Martin. The question was, did she know? "Did you know the human woman you're a clone of?"
"No. I never met her."
He wondered if he should tell her. Was there any value in it?
"I've always found your kind fascinating," she said. "I wanted to walk among you from the day I emerged. I wanted to understand how any intelligent life could continue with such tenacity and persistence in the face of elimination. I told Orik that four days were not enough, but in truth it took only hours for me to discover those answers. Once I had, I found that I did not want to leave. As I told you, for all of the freedom the Domo'dahm allowed me because I reminded him of his heil'bek; before I came with you I had never been free."
Donovan was silent as he scanned the sky. He could see the flashes of light high above them, the Dread giving chase to Captain St. Martin and his team. He wished there was some way, any way that he could help.
He finally turned to face Ehri, looking her in the eye.
"Is there anything else you we
ren't completely honest about?" he asked. "Maybe like how you're able to use that weapon."
Ehri was still holding Orik's plasma rifle. She shifted it in her hand. "The Hunter's rifles are not biologically secured. It is a point of pride for them to risk being killed by their own weapon."
Donovan glanced over at the dead Hunters further back on the plateau. Each of them had been carrying one of the guns. "Even if it means us humans have a better chance of fighting back?"
"Especially because of that. They believe that if you can defeat them in battle, then you deserve what you have earned."
"Did you hear that, Diaz?" Donovan asked, looking back at her.
She glanced up at him, but didn't speak. He could tell by her face she was both worried about Matteo, and still angry at Ehri, even though she had saved their lives in the end.
"There is one other thing," Ehri said.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I know how to fight."
"I noticed."
She smiled. "I studied under Klurik for many years. That is how we knew one another. At one time I thought he might ask me to be his heil'bek. Instead, he turned his back on me because I am lor'hai. I told Diaz to wait in the back and take him by surprise. You would not have defeated him any other way."
Donovan was about to respond when a soft rumble rippled across the landscape. The ground started to shake a moment later. He returned his attention up and out. The flashes of light were gone. He scanned the forest, looking for incoming mechs.
He didn't see any.
Ehri didn't react. Instead, she pointed out toward the Dread city. "The Domo'dahm is worried about what we have done, Major."
Donovan followed her finger. He could see the lights rising in the distance. A portion of the alien structure had broken away and was slowly ascending.
"They can't fight that thing," Donovan said.
"No. If it catches up to them, they'll die."
They stood and watched it. Even Matteo lifted his head to see. It continued to rise, gaining speed as it gained altitude, a series of thrusters in the back leaving long trails of heat that brightened the entire sky.
"Donovan, look," Matteo said. He pointed to another point in the sky, to a small dark spot illuminated by the Dread starship's thrusters.
"It's one of the human ships," Ehri said.
Donovan watched the dot cut across the sky. It was growing larger, flattening out a bit and heading in their general direction. Smoke poured from its side.
"It looks like it's damaged," Matteo said.
"But not out of control," Donovan said, trying to guess where it would come down. "I think it's going to land."
"They won't survive ten minutes out here," Diaz said.
"Not on their own," Donovan replied. "We're done here, anyway. Let's grab the Hunters' weapons and go help him out."
There was no questioning. No hesitation. They sprang into action, grabbing the unsecured Dread plasma rifles and vanishing into the woods.
This battle was over. Despite everything, they had won.
Now the real fight would begin.
EIGHTY-THREE
"Sir, sensors are detecting an enemy ship incoming from the surface," Spaceman Locke said.
General Theodore St. Martin moved his hand across the Command Station's control pad, switching his main view to see below the Magellan's belly. The shape of the rising alien starship was obvious when contrasted against the blue marble below it.
"I knew it wouldn't be that easy," he mumbled. Gabriel had made it back safe with one of the Dread's weapons. It was only fair that he would have to find a creative way to get them all away from the planet in one piece.
"Maggie, sound the red alert," Theodore said.
"Yes, General," the computer replied.
The shrill tone of the alarm echoed in the hallway beyond the bridge. Theodore adjusted his position in his seat, using his elbows to sit up a little bit straighter so he could see his crew. He wanted a reminder of the consequences of failure.
He was responsible for every soul on this ship, and he had no intention of letting them die.
He took hold of the Magellan's controls, shifting again in an effort to get comfortable. He had taken a pill not too long ago, but he wanted another one or two to take more of the edge off the pain that was flaring out from the stumps of his legs. There was no way he was going to. They cut back on the agony, but they also made him sick and tired and unable to think.
Right now, what he needed most was to think.
"General, Lieutenant O'Dea reports that Captain St. Martin and Second Lieutenant Bale are safely aboard and Hangar B is sealed," Miranda said.
"Thank you," Theodore replied, immediately pushing the throttle forward. A soft groaning noise could be heard from somewhere in the ship, and the Magellan started to move out of its synchronous orbit. "Time to intercept?" he asked.
"Forty three seconds and closing, sir," Colonel Choi said. "General, how are you planning on getting us through the orbital defense satellites?"
"I'm working on that," Theodore replied.
He had been in this situation before. He could still remember it like it was yesterday, even though it had happened over fifty years earlier. The Dread had been coming down to the surface then, while he had been trying to escape it with nearly ten thousand souls on board. He had zigged and zagged and vectored the massive starship using every trick he knew and a few he had improvised, somehow charting a course through the rain of heavy plasma that was decimating cities around the globe. His ship had been the only one to escape, and yet he had never questioned the how or why of it. As far as he was concerned, it was the Will of God plain and simple, in restitution for stealing his bride from him and in a great desire not to see his creations completely wiped out.
He had always known that God would call him back here. He had always known a showdown would come. That knowledge was the only thing that kept him alive in the years that had followed the escape. It was the only reason he hadn't taken a knife or a belt to his throat after the accident that had taken his legs.
That, and Gabriel.
He had taught his boy to be strong, and he wasn't going to ruin that by taking the coward's way out. His life would end the way it was intended.
Going down fighting.
"But not today," he said to himself.
The ship was too large to steer through the viewport, so he focused his attention on the HUD instead, watching the position of the Dread starship as it grew ever closer, and taking note of the orbital defense ring above. The slip calculations Reza had done had been impressive in their perfection, getting them to the safe side of the satellites. He had told the crew he had an idea on how to get back out, but the truth of it was that he didn't. In part it was because there was a piece of him that hadn't believed they would succeed. In part it was because he had assumed he would think of something before the situation went critical. He had always been better under pressure. He was a sly old gator, and he had a knack for getting himself out of tight spots.
Except the situation had gone critical, and he was still struggling for an idea. He couldn't try to fight back against the Dread starship. Not without any weapons. He also couldn't outrun it. He clenched his teeth.
He had to think of something or they were all going to die.
The Dread's first shot across the Magellan's bow solidified that fact. It was made as a singular gesture of warning, a prelude to the real attack, set to begin at any moment. An attack that would tear the ship to pieces. It would happen more slowly with the extra armor that had been added to the old girl, but slow or fast, dead was dead, and he couldn't let it happen.
The starship shuddered, and something at one of the pods began beeping in a shrill tone.
"We're under fire, sir," Colonel Choi said from her station.
"She can take it," Theodore replied. "Can't you Maggie?" Even so, he adjusted his flight path, rotating the Magellan to give their attacker a smaller target.
&
nbsp; The ship shuddered again from another hit.
"We have damage to a power conduit," Sergeant Abdullah said. "Deck 17. Seal door is closed."
Theodore shook his head. They were taking damage already? It shouldn't have been that easy.
Gabriel ran onto the bridge, pausing at the Command Station.
"Captain St. Martin reporting for duty, sir," his son said, standing at attention, holding to protocol in front of the others, even in the middle of an attack.
"Head on down to your pod, son," Theodore said, using his hand to wave him closer. Gabriel stopped next to him. "By the by, if you've got any ideas on getting past the orbital defense, I'm all ears."
Gabriel leaned over to see the HUD. He turned his head, putting his face level with Theodore's.
"I thought we were going to go out the way we came in?"
"What do you mean?" Theodore said. He shouldn't have taken that other pill. It hadn't helped the pain much and it was hurting his ability to think more than he realized.
"Reza," Gabriel shouted up to the scientist, who was sitting at one of the pods with a terrified look on his face.
Reza turned his head at the sound of his name. "Yes, Captain?"
"We need a slipstream. What do you have?"
The ship shuddered again. Another tone sounded from the engineering station, and Sergeant Abdullah shook his head as he tapped furiously on his control pad.
"I don't keep them in my pocket, Gabriel."
"Not the time for jokes," Gabriel replied. "Is there a stream running through the Earth or not?"
"Through the Earth?" Theodore said.
Gabriel looked at him. Theodore recognized that face. He understood the spark of anger in his son's eyes. He had been that way once, a long time ago when he hadn't been a crusty old coonass. When he had been able to think straight. He was losing it, he knew. His reflexes. Maybe his mind. Nothing was right anymore. Nothing was the way it used to be. He knew it by the fact that the answer was so obvious, and yet he had been unable to see it.
