by Ernest Filak
It was five minutes before take-off. All systems were fully operational, including back up. The engine was idling, putting the angular body of the machine into slight vibrations.
“H2Ki,” he said on the internal channel.
In response he immediately heard all his brothers reporting their readiness. They were all using a code understood only by their kin – clones created from one select genotype, bred in a top-secret facility of InCorporation, the largest company providing research services for the military. This was the first time they were about to take part in real combat and prove to their masters that the product was viable for mass production. H2 didn’t worry about the outcome. Execution of the task in hand was a priority. Sacrifice didn’t matter. Besides, in all simulations their results were something regular pilots could only dream of. Added to that was the brotherly bond they shared, which meant the team maneuvers they did were in a league of their own, unheard of ever before. They were the best and only had to prove it. Soon open space would become their provenance and they would sweep everybody else out of it.
The pilot smiled at his thoughts. He felt his other three siblings were dreaming identical dreams.
“A minute before take-off,” he heard on the radio. He clicked on the receiver as a sign of confirmation. He wondered if the operator’s ears were good enough to count the number of clicks. He recognized the characteristic sounds. Maybe they were similar, but everybody had their idiosyncrasies. H1 was proud to bear the name of the first one and always clicked first. H3 pressed the button on the receiver for the longest time and H4 kept whistling a stupid tune under his visor. His brothers – yeah, they were something.
“Attention. Off we go!”
The pilot gunned the accelerator. The fighter jumped forward like a pure bred horse. The rocket motor attached to the bottom of the machine catapulted the ship off the short runway. After three seconds the fuel burnt out and the detached launching mechanism returned towards the station.
Four hawks soared over the plane of the ecliptic. They came closer to one another, tightening their ranks. Having reached their maximum flying speed they switched off the afterburners. They should be undetectable for the enemy radar now. All they had to do was stay on their course and wait. The enemy was approaching very quickly, and in half an hour they should find themselves within reach of medium range missiles.
Radio communication was forbidden. H2 looked to the side. His partner, H1, was flying wing to wing with him. The other brothers were flanking their positions and remained a bit behind. In the cockpit of his hawk, H2 focused on analyzing the data he was constantly receiving.
Two smaller units detached from the enemy vessel and massacred civilian ships positioned in the closest vicinity of the sun. A large stream of SOS signals was being sent from that region. They were mostly automatically generated signals. Those sent by humans were quickly going silent.
The aliens passed by the first planet of the system without paying any attention. It was a dead planet without atmosphere. They were getting closer to the other one, but just like all the equipment and earlier analyses predicted, they didn’t change their course. They focused solely on Hades, on which the humans were centered together with all of its infrastructure. Analysts believed there was a sixty percent chance that one of the smaller alien units would turn their interests to the second planet. Even if it happened though, this wouldn’t change the plan of the attack in any way.
The on-board computer beeped. It was time to correct the course. The strike team simultaneously turned on the engines for just a second – like in an air show. Four fiery tails lighted the black darkness and instantly went out.
The time came for the first stage of the operation. Small ten-kilo buoys spilled out of the hawks’ hatches. There were lots of them – too many, the pilots thought. Because of that, they were only equipped with two mid range and two short range rockets per ship. The rest of the load space had been taken by the electronic equipment they were now getting rid of. Every few seconds another buoy left the board. Each one activated a primitive engine and took its place in space.
After the unloading they still had two course corrections to do. The closer to the enemy they got, the higher the risk of detection. The new generation fighters they were flying were practically undetectable. They only left a trace on the radar when they were within real shooting range. Since nobody knew the technological capabilities of the Aliens, a decision had been made to set out a trajectory which practically eliminated any probability of counteraction.
The squad was flying in the shadow of the second planet, and when Alien units were about to pass it by the hawks were supposed to enter the orbit, speed up to the maximum taking advantage of the gravitational field and emerge right behind the back of the flying objects. From up close a hawk attack was deadly.
A gravitational field detector lit up on the board. The enemy was somewhere on the other side.
“Red,” H2 issued his first radio command. The four pilots activated their weapons. “Go!” the machines loosened their ranks. They turned on their afterburners and threw themselves into the gravitational well of the planet.
The speed was pushing them deeper into their seats. Gravity was ten times stronger and still growing. Their absorptive systems were unable to balance such forces. The pilots saw colorful circles in front of their eyes. Only a few seconds remained before they would divert.
All of a sudden, H1 and H3 disintegrated in a shower of flames. Bubbles of nothingness appeared everywhere, as if light was escaping into them. The remaining two hawks tugged at by opposite forces creaked as if they were about to explode. H4 instinctively slid behind the tail of H1 to protect it from enemy fire, which must have been somewhere behind them. At such speed it was not possible to do a sharp turn as no unit would ever be able to withstand it.
Despite this fact, H1 saw an oblong predatory shape emerge from the lower strata of the atmosphere. It swiftly and gracefully moved to the port side. No shooting or any other weapon activity was visible and yet the hawk piloted by H4 got hit. Part of the wing and cockpit collapsed. The matter of which the fighter was created swirled and disappeared, as if it had been pulled into a central point. For a split second a black zone appeared, after which the rest of the machine disintegrated.
The death of the third brother gave H2 valuable seconds. He managed to get out of the trap. Seeing Alien ships ahead he launched all his rockets without selecting particular targets. With his last move he pushed the button releasing the black box records. Then he took a sharp turn towards the second planet hoping to avoid his brothers’ fate. But the Alien ship was much more maneuverable and got to a favorable position first. It showed no mercy. The end.
Admiral Samuel Black together with the commander of a light cruiser HHMS Sword had finished going through black box records.
“InCorp has pushed another defective product our way. I hope they accept our complaint!” the admiral hissed through clenched teeth.
“One of the rockets hit the target,” the commander remarked. “Please take a look at this, Admiral.”
The officer froze the screen.
“I find the reaction of the hit unit very unusual.”
“Why?” Black leaned over the projector.
“I initially believed that the hit didn’t cause any damage and was absorbed by the gravity field. The more so because we couldn’t see any symptoms of the ship losing air tightness.”
The Admiral drummed his fingers against the projector.
“So comparing its position before and right after the hit. I don’t know the capabilities and the efficiency of its drives…”
“Get to the point, Captain.”
“The Alien ship bounced back. Just like a living organism, not a ship, Admiral.”
Black had a malicious remark on the tip of his tongue but he thought better. He overlapped the projection of the oncoming ships in their current positions on the image of the encounter. Three other units were circling the la
rgest vessel covering it. The one hit by the rocket was staying behind. He made a decision.
“Activate the phase pile.”
The captain automatically repeated the order.
“Send the launch sequence to all the units in the system.”
The commander of the cruiser hesitated for the first time since his supervisor appeared on board of his ship.
“Admiral? I understand that we’re talking only of Her Majesty’s units?”
“No, Captain. We’re talking all units.”
Black didn’t waste precious time explaining anything. The engineers of the military orbital station managed to work out a method of quick and, what was more important, safe activation of the main drives. So far only two terrorist units had that advantage over them but never took it. Human forces were spread all over and didn’t stand a chance of an equal fight. Everything had to be done to collect as much information as possible about the new threat. And the obvious thing was that the best place to do that was combat. The ships of the Alien civilization didn’t give the impression of being friendly. They destroyed everything in their way, both military and civilian objects. And their largest unit was many times bigger than the most massive human supertankers. Who knows what it was carrying on board.
“An order to all. Activate plan Moses,” the Admiral walked up to the communications stand. “Avoid contact with revolutionary forces. I give permission to open fire only in case of direct threat to life.”
Black watched over the shoulder of a young operator as confirmations of receipt of the order began arriving. Maybe someone would manage to get out of this mayhem.
“I order the courier unit to launch.”
From inside the military station an arrowhead shape emerged. Most of the bulk of the ship was taken by enormous engines and inertial compensators at the expense of its armament. But it was a messenger, not a warrior. Flanked by a pair of fighters it flew to the ends of the system.
The Admiral came back to his seat and fastened his seatbelts.
“Captain, please initiate your part of plan Moses.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
Chapter III
Second Planet of the Hadesian System
As far as I could tell, the Uroboros forces whose hands we found ourselves in consisted of only one platoon of people. It was difficult to tell exactly because they were constantly moving at a distance. I saw camouflaged shapes here and there lurking among the trees, but I never saw a larger group than two or three Star Troopers at a time. They knew their trade. I could recognize the precise behavior of professionals in what they did.
“Let me tell you man what a hottie she was. She had boobs like melons,” a wounded soldier was feeding another ration of dirty detail into my ear.
Somehow, miraculously, the Uroboros bandits kept us alive. To not make us too happy, they gave us some menial tasks to do. We helped transport the wounded, and Sunshine got the job of a cook. And she didn’t even complain about it. The girl was smart enough to know that she’d better do this than wait for somebody to suggest she deal with the stressed soldiers’ other needs.
“What a piece of ass she was,” the private was daydreaming.
As a response to his reverie, Ingrid showed me a visual projection of the woman of his desires, who looked exactly as he wanted with her huge buttocks and bust the size of an inflated G. She obviously didn’t fail to add something from herself: the tits were supported by a huge belly, and there was a glass of foamy beer on her behind. My mouth watered. A beer was what I craved!
“Give me a break,” I whispered. Of course, as I could have expected, the AI didn’t react.
“Hey, you don’t like the ladies? Do you go for boys?” the wounded soldier whom I was supporting with my arm had very good hearing.
Ingrid projected an image of a slim boy exceptionally gifted by Mother Nature. She was about to drive me to insanity.
“Come on, buddy,” I protested. “Of course I go for pussies, especially those with well groomed fur.”
This time Ingrid returned to her “natural” self. She gave me a meaningful look. “Too bad that I have just shaved it. This planet is sweltering hot.” She began to undo the buttons on her jacket. I swallowed loud.
“Hungry? We’re gonna have a break soon,” a Star Trooper butted in.
As if on cue a paramedic stepped from behind the nearest tree.
“Fifteen minutes,” he said.
I helped the wounded man sit between two forked roots of a tree.
“Thanks, man.”
I didn’t have the energy to say anything. I sat down next to him. The Star Troopers forced a pretty fast marching pace on us. The man I was helping wasn’t a weakling either. All I could think about was a comfortable soft bed.
Sunshine handed everyone their meal tray. I ripped off the foil and the dish got hot in just about ten seconds. It was barely edible crap that just let us survive. After the anti-radiation injections our bodies boosted their metabolisms.
“You guys should have your blood filtered,” the paramedic grabbed my head and looked into my pupils. “In these circumstances the injection must be enough. Let me know if you find blood in your urine or stool.”
I nodded, pushing the rest of the white goo into my mouth. Sunshine didn’t leave Theodore for even a second. His condition was the most serious but he was quickly recovering. He didn’t make the unit we were walking with slow down, which was a good sign. The girl kept feeding him like a baby, giving him part of her portion.
The other three soldiers who were less seriously wounded guarded us with guns in their hands. In this situation any attempts to escape didn’t really stand a chance. I was wondering how they got their wounds and who they were hiding from.
“I don’t know the plans of the revolutionaries on this planet.” Ingrid felt or registered my thoughts. It was unbelievable. It happened more and more often that she could answer before I even asked the question. I wished I could be able to freely talk to her about it. Would she stay inside me forever?
“Do you feel bad with me?”
“No,” I denied in tune with my conscience.
Out of the blue Sergeant Gall emerged from among the wounded. I got down to scraping the remains of the food from the bottom of the tray, pretending not to notice his vigilant stare.
“How are you feeling boys?” he asked the three wounded soldiers, who said they were perfectly allright.
“Andy?” another sergeant approached.
Shit, I knew this one too.
“What is it, Mark?” the sergeant turned to face the man.
“The communications report that we’ve got the connection with the battalion back. Nemov is calling us out in the emergency channel!”
Gall immediately unfastened the panel cover on his right hip. He tampered with the buttons trying to manually tune into the right wave. The signal must have been very weak for he changed position all the time trying to enhance the reception. Finally, he froze in an awkward position. He lowered his visor. From the place where I was sitting, I couldn’t see or hear even one word he was saying to his supervisor.
“Can you hear anything?” I turned to the AI trying to use my vocal cords as little as possible.
“No. His helmet has screening.”
“Shall I come closer?”
“Don’t even budge!” My whole body went numb and a plastic spoon fell from my fingers. “Are you fucking out of your mind? They could slice our throats. I can see and understand their behavior. We’re being watched. One wrong move and we die. You are my carrier, I love you and I don’t want to die. Do you understand?”
I could feel every syllable she was saying. It rang like a huge bell, shaking my whole being. My fully clenched teeth almost creaked they were being pressed so hard. I had colorful spots whirling before my eyes. The pressure soon disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. I regained control over my body. The tightened muscles of my stomach just pushed the food I had just eaten out of my body. I bent in h
alf.
“Pavel, are you all right?” I saw her crouching right in front of me. Tears were running down my cheeks. “I panicked, I’m so sorry,” she said.
“It’s all right,” I said to her and to the Star Troopers looking my way.
The wounded man whom I was helping walk clearly lost his appetite.
“They fucking gave us expired food again,” he angrily shoved the packaging into a hole under the tree.
“Stevens!” Sergeant Major Gall just finished receiving his message. He turned to the sergeant who was waiting for fresh information. “The captain is calling us. The rest of the battalion are fighting a new wave of terrorists. That must be the same guys who gave us a knockout in the town.”
“What does Nemov want from us? We won’t stop the marching machines. You saw yourself their firepower.”
“Not now, Mark,” Gall didn’t want to discuss it, very well aware of the presence of our curious ears. “We’ll hit them from behind. We need to give our people a chance to disengage from the enemy.”
They left discussing possible scenarios. I looked after them. A lot of time had passed but I still remembered the events that took place at the orbital military station. I thought that with a bit of luck I would be able to kill them. Yes, Hades clearly changed me. It deprived me of my youthful enthusiasm and optimism. The breakthrough moment was the death of my school buddy, Ed. They say it’s the most difficult to do it the first time. I don’t know – I’m not sure about that. If I had a gun now I would shoot the two guys in the back without feeling any remorse. I changed. That’s for sure. The question was whether it was for the better. I sincerely doubted that.
“Hey,” the wounded soldier called me. “Let me stand.”
I wiped spit off my mouth.
“Here,” he said, giving me a chocolate bar.
“Thanks,” I couldn’t refuse it.
He took care of me so that I could carry him. I carried him because if I refused they would shoot me in place. It was a very straightforward deal. If I have the opportunity, I’ll stab a bayonet into his guts. It is more likely though that, considering the circumstances, they will ask him to kill me first when I’m no longer needed. For the time being, we were looking at each other and smiling. We both knew a time for killing would come. Sooner or later.
