by M. R. Forbes
He couldn't resist the urge to put his hand on his father's shoulder as he said it.
Theodore risked a glance over, a small smile creasing his face. "Thank you, Gabriel. It's good to see you, too. Now, let's show them what we're made of."
"Yes, sir."
THIRTY-ONE
"This is crazy," Lieutenant Bale said over the comm. "Completely crazy. The General is missing for three weeks, and then he just shows up at the eleventh hour and takes command, and we follow him like he was never gone?"
Gabriel adjusted his seat in his fighter, flipping the switch to prep the thrusters. "Yes."
"And nobody is worried that maybe he's not all there?"
"I'll take my father flying the Magellan not all there over myself any day. Besides, did you get a look at him? I haven't seen him that fit in twenty years."
"Okay, but he's going to send us out there. That doesn't worry you? We can't hurt the Dread, Captain. What are we supposed to do? Wave at them as they blow us into space junk?"
"We're supposed to do whatever the General says. Are you going to stop whining, Bale, or are you going to mutiny? One way maybe you die a hero. The other way, you just die."
Bale fell silent. Gabriel could hear the snickers of the other two pilots on the comm. Gerhardt and Celia. They were both as green as any pilot could be, greener even then Lieutenant Bale. At least she had flown a combat mission before.
He was leading a squad of children on a suicide mission and asking them to be happy about it. The crazy thing was that he was happy about it. Happy to have his father back on the bridge. Happy to be doing something against the Dread.
"This is General St. Martin." Theodore's voice cut across their comm. "Get ready to launch on my mark. Timing is everything here, boys and girls, so don't dilly-dally."
"Yes, sir," Gabriel replied for them.
"What do you think he's doing?" Bale asked.
"We won't know until we get out there," Gabriel replied. "What I do know is that we aren't dead yet. That's a positive sign."
"Looks like your squadron's going to have some company out there, Captain," Miranda said. "Half a dozen Dread Bats are incoming. Watch your six."
Gabriel closed his eyes to calm the sudden rush of fear. They could avoid the Dread fortress' plasma fire as long as they didn't center themselves on the main cannon. Their fighters were another story.
What the heck was his father doing?
He jumped when the hangar began to open, individual bay doors moving aside at the same time. The oxygen had already been pumped out, and on his father's command, they would release the clamps holding them to Magellan and join the fray.
Gabriel's heart rate spiked. He had never been in combat in space before. Sure, he had trained for it, but this was the real thing.
He had survived on Earth. He would survive here.
"Stay tight," he said. "Cover each other out there."
"Yes, sir," his pilots replied.
He felt the fighter shift slightly as the clamps release.
"Now," Theodore shouted.
Gabriel fired his thrusters, launching from the hangar ahead of the others. He didn't check to see if they had followed. He was certain they had.
The fighter moved out into space. He found the Bats immediately, strafing the left side of the Magellan with their smaller plasma weapons, hitting the same nacelle that had been grazed by the fortress' plasma cannon.
Gabriel's heart sank when he realized why.
Without the nacelle, they couldn't escape.
He cursed himself silently for letting the enemy hit one of the most vulnerable parts of the ship. His father would never have made that mistake. Why couldn't he have shown up a little earlier? A minute, an hour, a day. Theodore had shown too much confidence in him.
It wasn't over yet.
He tracked the other targets. The Dread fortress was still behind the Magellan, but it was drawing closer. The Magellan was still moving toward the planet, vectoring in a random pattern to throw the enemy cannons.
He had to do something about the Bats.
"Form up, we need to hit them hard," he said.
"Sir?" Bale replied. "You want to attack?"
"We still have power left, and if they destroy the nacelle, we'll be trapped out here forever."
"Our weapons are useless," Gerhardt said.
"Are you questioning me, son?" Gabriel replied, barking like his old man.
"No, sir," the pilot replied meekly.
"Stay tight, concentrate your fire. The rounds still have force. At the very least we can push them off target and try to buy the General time for him to create a miracle."
"Yes, sir," they replied.
Gabriel led them back toward the nacelle, checking his levels. Each shot drained the battery that powered the starfighter. Would there be anywhere near enough available energy to do much of anything against the Dread?
He was going to find out.
A flash of light blinded him for a moment, the fortress' main cannon sending a burst of energy over the top of the Magellan. Gabriel would never know how his father did it, but he was thankful that he could.
"You need to get those sons of bitches off my shoulder," Theodore said. "Maggie's chewing my ear about critical damage."
"Yes, sir," Gabriel replied. "I'm about to engage."
"Good man."
Gabriel focused his eyes forward, tracking the closest of the Bats. Like the fortress, they were struggling to keep up with the many changes in direction Theodore was expertly affecting on the starship, their aim not always centered on the weakened area of the nacelle. Taking fire might not hurt them, but it would give them more of a distraction.
Was that his father's plan? Buy time to reach the planet, use it as a shield to swing around and escape to a stream? The Dread might be able to follow, but it would be difficult for them to know where the Magellan had dropped back into realspace. Or at least, they had to hope it would be. They had no idea of the extent of the enemy's capabilities when it came to space travel. The fact that they were hitting the nacelle suggested that even if they could track the ship, they didn't want to.
"Target the closest enemy ship, prepare to fire."
"Roger," the pilots replied.
Gabriel and his squadron swooped down on the Bats, coming at them from an off angle to try to evade detection. He was about to give the order to shoot when they suddenly veered away, breaking off the attack on the Magellan, spinning back to face the fighters.
"Break away, spread out," Gabriel said, caught by surprise as lances of plasma punctuated the space around him.
He rolled the fighter, adding a little extra to the underside vectoring thruster and pushing it out of plane from the incoming attack before streaking past. He flipped the fighter back when he neared the nacelle, returning to the fight.
"Sir, they broke off the attack," Gabriel said. "They're targeting the squadron."
"Ha! Better than I hoped," Theodore replied. "Keep them busy, Captain, we're almost there."
Gabriel looked out at the planet. They weren't that close to it yet. Almost where?
He didn't have any more time to think about it. He threw the fighter into a wild swerve as one of the Bats dove in at him, plasma cannons sending bolts flying past him. He scanned for the rest of the squadron. They were outnumbered, but their fighters were smaller and more nimble. For the moment, they were managing to keep the Dread off them.
He knew from Earth that it wouldn't last. The pilots would adjust to their tactics and then begin to pick them apart.
"Bale, watch your tail," he said, avoiding the fire from the Bat behind him and coming up on Bale's position. "Bring him over to me; I'll try to knock him off course."
"Yes, sir," Bale replied, her voice calm. Regardless of how she had gotten into and through the Academy, she was proving to be a solid performer.
She shifted her vectors, rolling her fighter over and coming back his way. Her ship was a blur rocketing past him, and
he opened fire, sending hundreds of ion blasts out at the chasing Bat.
He expected that the Bat would take the hit, lose its concentration, and break off for another approach.
Instead, he watched as his rounds tore into the dark skin of the alien craft, ripping through in a way he had never seen before. The shots pierced the hide, one of them hitting something that must have been important. A brief flash of a small internal explosion, and then the Bat went dark, floating away from the battle on its final trajectory.
Gabriel blasted past the dead ship, his mouth hanging open in silent shock. What the? It couldn't be, could it? Had Reza secretly solved the riddle and augmented the fighters to be able to defeat the Dread armor? And not tell anyone? That didn't make any sense.
Nothing else did either, but somehow it was true.
"Alpha Squadron, the Bats are vulnerable," Gabriel said, still in disbelief. "I repeat, they're vulnerable. If you can hit them, hit them hard."
"Captain, I hope you ain't playing a nasty trick on an Old Gator," Theodore said, hearing the report.
"No, sir," Gabriel replied. "I just disabled one of them. I'm as surprised as you."
"Well, this don't change my plans too much, but maybe just enough. Keep those couillons distracted; I'm about to put the fear of God into these bastards."
"Sir? Do you feel okay?"
"Trust me, Gabe. I feel better than I have in years. Mind over matter. Hang tight."
"Yes, sir."
Gabriel let himself smile as he shifted direction, heading back at one of the enemy fighters. They were more cautious now, backing further away from the Magellan and his squadron, spending more time on the defensive. Were they surprised by their vulnerability too?
He watched as Bale lit up, sending a stream of ions into a second Bat. He almost laughed when the rounds poured into the ship, creating the same scene as he had. A small flash and then it stopped reacting, floating away on a straight path.
"Try to keep up with me now, Captain," Theodore said.
Gabriel swung around the Bats, watching as the Magellan's main thrusters burned out. A moment later, vectoring thrusters fired from the bottom and the left of the ship, pushing it up and over. A moment after that he noticed that the hangar doors had sealed, and now were re-opening. Oxygen vented out as they did, adding a little more thrust.
The Magellan rose up, vertical to the fortress within seconds. It looked vulnerable, and the Dread believed it had to be. The main cannon belched plasma, spewing it forth in a stream that should have cut right through the center of the Magellan.
Except she was still rolling up and over, the rear rising and swinging out behind her. The plasma blast passed harmlessly beneath, and the ship came about, the bow facing directly toward the Dread starship.
Then the mains reignited, a ring of heat forming around each of the outputs, a jet of energy forming behind it. The engines could output massive thrust for a short amount of time to escape atmosphere and gravity. It would put a strain on the systems and drain their reserve energy stores almost completely. It was a desperate maneuver, but also a brilliant one.
"Form up," Gabriel said to his squadron. "We don't want to fall out of range."
"Roger."
They only had so much power themselves, and would need to use all of it to keep pace with the Magellan.
They streaked alongside the main action. Gabriel's eyes were peeled to the starship as it pointed itself directly at the fortress. Was his father planning to ram them? He might hurt the Dread ship, but he would kill himself and everyone around him at the same time.
Or was he daring the Dread to let him strike them? Was he testing their mettle and motivations?
The Magellan leaped at the Dread fortress, the long bow like a spear ahead of it. The Fortress responded immediately, changing direction, dropping down, not wasting any time trying to avoid it. Gabriel increased his thrust, accelerating ahead of the Magellan as the secondary burn faded out.
The Magellan crossed over the top of the fortress, shooting past it and heading toward the inner portion of the system. The Fortress remained behind it, working to change course, its forward velocity carrying it further and further away as it did. The Dread Bats peeled off, ceasing the chase and heading back to their ship.
"Score one for the Old Gator," Bale said, her voice bubbling through the comm.
"Roger that," Gabriel replied. "Let's head home."
THIRTY-TWO
Gabriel opened the fighter's cockpit, climbing out and standing on the floor of the hangar. The air was harder to breathe than before, the oxygen levels limited after Theodore's maneuver to get them past the Dread.
He had never been happier to be short of breath.
He left his bay, heading through the interlocks and into the connecting corridor, where Captain Sturges was already waiting for him, a big smile on his grizzled face.
"Nice flying, Captain," Sturges said.
"Maybe I'll see you out there next time?" Gabriel replied.
"Me? I'm old and slow. The BIS is more my speed." He clapped Gabriel on the shoulder. "Truly well done, Gabe."
Lieutenant Bale was the next pilot to appear in the corridor. She rushed over to Gabriel, wrapping her arms around him. "He did it. He really did it."
"I told you to have faith," Gabriel said, returning the embrace. He released her as Gerhardt and Celia joined them.
"Mission accomplished, sir," Celia said. Her hair was matted with her cold sweat.
"You both did well," Gabriel said. "You survived your first mission. I'm proud of you both."
"Thank you, sir," they replied.
"I'm heading up to the bridge," Gabriel said. "Captain Sturges, can you take care of these brave souls for me?"
"Yes, sir," Sturges said. "Thank your father for me."
"Will do."
Gabriel hurried to the bridge, leaving his flight suit on and zipped. They might have escaped the Dread this time, but he was certain the enemy wasn't about to give up its pursuit. They had bought themselves some time, that was all.
It was as much as they could hope for.
"Hull integrity is good," Sergeant Abdullah was saying as Gabriel reached the bridge. "Decks are sealed and stable. All of the damage was isolated to the port-side QPG nacelle. I'm still collating the sensor readings and data outputs from the nacelle to get a full understanding of the damage."
"How does the old girl look from the outside, Captain?" Theodore asked without looking.
Gabriel moved to stand beside the General. "The plasma grazed the side of her, sir," he said. "There was quite a bit of visible damage, and the fighters were doing their best to add to it. It's my fault she got hit, sir."
"Nonsense," Theodore said. "You're the best damn pilot I've ever seen. Half this game is luck, and you got a little bit unlucky. It could just as easily have been me at the wheel."
Gabriel remained silent, not quite willing to accept Theodore's excuse.
"The important part is that we're still alive. We can still fight. Even better, you managed to shoot down one of their fighters."
"So did Bale, sir," Gabriel said.
"A damn fine job, Captain. The point being, they were vulnerable. That's data we can use, ain't that right, Mr. Mokri?"
"Yes, sir," Reza replied.
"Maggie, how's our distance from that big turd out there?"
"Ten thousand kilometers and holding," Maggie replied.
"Seems like they're backing off to regroup," Theodore said. "Ha! I don't think they were expecting that little game of chicken."
"We're lucky you didn't kill us all," Guy said.
"Damn right, Mr. Larone," Theodore replied. "Sometimes luck is all we have left to lean on. By the by, you've had three weeks with the Dread rifle. What have you got?"
Colonel Choi interrupted before Guy could respond. "Pardon me, sir, but I recommend tabling that discussion in the immediate. I think the entire crew might appreciate a word from you. We've been worried about you, General
."
"I was worried about myself for a while there," Theodore said softly, his expression changing. He recovered a moment later. "Quite right, Colonel. Quite right." He leaned forward to tap his control pad.
"Sir," Abdullah said before he could. "The preliminary report is in. Maggie's initial assessment was accurate. The main power conduit to the nacelle is offline, and we lost thirty percent of the phase surface."
"That sounds bad," Reza said.
"It means we can't slip," Theodore replied. He paused while he considered. "Can we repair it?"
"The conduit if we can get a crew out to it. The phase surface is going to be a little more challenging. We don't have any paint on board."
"Can we slip without it?" Choi asked.
"Good question," Theodore said. "Mr. Mokri? Mrs. Larone?"
They glanced over at one another, clearly uncomfortable to be grouped together. Gabriel noticed his father's eyebrow raising as they did.
"Hmmm," he said, coughing lightly. "What do we have here?"
"Uh. It's. Uh. It's nothing, General," Reza said, looking at the floor, his face turning red.
"Ha! Funniest nothing I ever did see. I wasn't born yesterday, Mr. Mokri. We can deal with that later. Can one of you answer my question? Mr. Larone, do you want to take a stab at it?"
"Slipping a starship is usually based on a percentage of phase surface in comparison to overall size," Guy said before Reza could respond. "We would need to know the overall cubic size of the Magellan as well as the size of the QPG prepared surfaces. If she were constructed with some buffer, it's quite possible getting the conduit back online would be good enough."
"What if it's close?" Theodore said.
"What do you mean, General?" Guy replied.
"The math. What if it's close? What if we try to slip without enough surface?"
"Part of the ship will make it into slipspace," Reza said. "The other part won't."
"You'll tear the Magellan into pieces," Guy said.
"The surface damage is an estimate, sir," Sergeant Abdullah said. "We'd need a team to go out there and measure."
Theodore sat back in the command chair. He ran a hand across a clean-shaven chin. "Seems we're in a bit of a pickle then, don't it? I doubt that Dread ship out there is going to wait for us to make a few spacewalks and fix our nacelle. In fact, I suppose they're going to do whatever they can to prevent it."
