With Our Dying Breath

by Unknown

  "Got that one," Mathesse cheered maliciously.

  "Those things look like turds," Breen offered. "Uh, Command."

  "Thank you, Astro."

  "Command, Aux! Sir, Team Two is in the air."

  Another track popped up on Oswald's display to verify. None of the other alien interceptors had hit the BB's, their tracks on the display wiggling as they recognized and avoided the hazards.

  "Tactical, get those lasers covering pod one and three."

  There was nothing left to do but watch. The Roland's lasers had shifted fire but the alien drones were small, agile, and shrouded with alien interference. One finally erupted into a plasma ball and went spiraling slowly back to the deadly green surface below.

  "Sir," Norris spoke. "How far do you think those weapons of theirs can reach?"

  "That is a good question that I don't have a good answer to. Aux, let's get some of our own ECM to cover the Rangers." Three of the aliens still sped towards the recovery pods, largely unaffected by the Roland's ECM efforts. The interceptors split formation, one after each lander.

  Numbers don't lie, but men lie about what the numbers mean. It was one of Oswald's father's favorite answers to any statistics thrown out in debate. In space, unlike politics or economics, the numbers pretty much said what they meant. These numbers said that Roland couldn't protect, couldn't save, all the landers. It was time to prioritize the assets. Oswald apologized silently to Luskin.

  "Tactical, get both lasers covering Team One. Deploy a kinetic kill warhead towards Team Two. If the aliens down that module, give 'em the shotgun treatment."

  "Roger, Command."

  "Flight, make recovery intercept with Team One first, then adjust for Team Three recovery—full deltaV."

  "But Team Two—" someone started to object.

  "We'll have to get them next time around," Oswald said tightly, looking again at those conceited, unforgiving numbers. "They won't be high enough to pick up if we burn to get the other two teams. We'll have to try to come back around." He felt the desire to say more, to explain, to excuse himself. But the numbers offered him nothing else to say.

  Oswald willing let numbers make his decisions for him, good or bad. It took the burden from his already stooping shoulders and gave him a blanket to help him sleep at night. The numbers numbed him comfortably as recovery pod two's track showed a slow curve back towards DPV. The big-eye showed Oswald that the remains of lander two were raining down in small pieces towards the alien wilderness. Roland would not need to come back around for them. Oswald was sickened by his own relief.

  "Command, remote bravo-three detonation. Interceptor designated bravo one destroyed." Big-eye confirmed to them all that the spray from the kinetic kill warhead had bagged Team Two's killer, the flaming debris following the dead Rangers into the dirt.

  "Sir! It seems the lasers finally found their mark. The interceptor chasing down Team One has been destroyed." The last word was pronounced with a flair possible only in French.

  "Roger that, Aux. Tactical, get both lasers covering Team Three." Oswald's hopes of rescuing Luskin disappeared in a flash even before the lasers had switched targets. Recovery capsule three was reduced to a spread of glowing embers.

  Never hope against the numbers.

  The Roland's lasers destroyed the final interceptor when it detected the alien's rocket flare, as it climbed to engage its new target.

  Oswald watched the vectors of capsule one and Roland begin to merge. They had lost telemetry and comms with the Rangers within but the craft itself was still responding. Big-eye showed no damage to the capsule from its current angle. He ordered the big-eye and both lasers to scan the debris of Luskin's pod.

  Whatever effect the alien weapons used, the interceptors must have used a lesser, though no less deadly, version. Instead of the whole target disappearing in a flash, the target fell into pieces. Team Two's capsule still had some congruent sections tumbling to the ground while Luskin's looked like a shattered mirror.

  Oswald thought he could make out the remains of a tinny and one of the Ranger's helmets; possibly a laser rifle. But he couldn’t see the heavy box or the UXA in the spinning field of shrapnel. The question of if the precious cargo had survived the attack went unanswered and Oswald had no intention of coming back around to see what Delta Pavonis Five had left to throw at Roland.

  "Command, Flight. Capsule one has docked," Norris called.

  "Full burn, Flight. Let's get blazes outta here."

  So like the humans before, they fled Delta Pavonis, battered and bloody by its deadly defenders. Unlike those before however, Oswald had wreaked havoc on the ancient outpost and retrieved Earth Force's Holy Grail for them. Could he and his men now ride their white charger home, chalice in hand, and get succor and surcease?

  Oswald didn't think that was likely. As his father was fond of saying...

  There ain't no rest for the wicked.

  Chapter 11 There was no further pursuit from Delta Pavonis V. Roland's escape vector was close enough to one of the ORBAM remotes to recover it. The other would require expending extra deltaV and possibly expose the rocket to danger so Oswald ordered it detonated instead.

  It had been a disastrously costly victory. They had gone from retrieving possibly three to barely getting one. Team One had not survived the interceptors. At some point during the battle their capsule had been hit. When the life support crew opened it to retrieve the crew and cargo they were met with the rictus faces of four dead Rangers staring up at them through cracked visors. The attack had shattered every combat suit and opened the small cabin to space.

  Doctor Hines explained that when a person exposed to vacuum a person will go unconscious very quickly, after mere seconds. It seemed comforting, to the doctor at least, to report in gruesome detail how quickly they had likely died, possibly even before dying from exposure to vacuum, as their armor, internal organs, and bones had been pulverized. Oswald believed this man, his reputation for having the bedside manner of a blaring alarm clock affirmed, was actually trying to offer comfort. He decided not to comment on the efficacy of the doctor's efforts.

  Not only had the mission been costly, it had almost been a complete failure. The cargo compartment of the recovery capsule had been laid open too, and the heavy box that held the chalice was dangling near the hole by a single restraining cable. Oswald didn't want to imagine planning a trip back if the UXA had been lost.

  "Hey Xorblox! Did you see where my jump tunnel beacons got off to?"

  "Why yes I did! Those pesky humans came by, smashed all the windows, and stole them!"

  "Outrageous, Xorblox! Do you know where they went?"

  "Why yes I do! They went to that blue planet in the Blitz-Bertz system. I bet they still have your jump tunnel beacons with them."

  "I think you're right, Xorblox! Want to come with me to get them back?"

  "Hey look! I think they're coming back. They must have dropped their wallet or something."

  Oswald chuckled out loud at his ridiculous alien scene. McFarran was strapped in across the conference room table and raised questioning brows.

  "Nothing, Hashi." Oswald waited in silence until all the department heads arrived for the after-action conference. Hines and Mathesse were that last to float in, having to fill out data sheets about expended assets.

  "Close the hatch please, Mathesse. We'll have formal ceremonies when we get back to Earth Force, but first a drink to our fallen Rangers. They all gave their lives to for this mission. Thanks to them we get to go home. So we will drink to them." Oswald pulled out a small bladder filled with Delamain. In front of each person he released a small golden globule to float lazily in place. He dribbled out the last bit in front of himself. The alcohol smell filled the small compartment, providing its own little buzz.

  "Ad Astra," Flight Commander Pierce Oswald toasted.

  "Ad Astra," answered the officers.

  Mathesse drank his with a loud smooching sound. Breen tried sucking his into his mo
uth and ended up inhaling the burning liquid. He immediately began coughing violently, bouncing and flailing around the compartment. Hines managed to slurp up his blob of nectar before Breen's kicking legs splattered it; McFarran did not.

  As the Aux was about to fire off a righteously indignant rant, Oswald grinned and carefully squeezed out another drop in front of McFarran. Once Breen was secured and strapped to the bench, Oswald waited for the raucous laughter of men who had survived another fire together to fade away on its own.

  He hated AACs. Even with experienced veterans, especially with veterans, AACs could devolve competitions. It was certainly not survived together, but sometimes a crew needed to be reminded of their hard won camaraderie and he hoped the Delamain might help. People had died, people Roland was supposed to protect. Even in the middle of a war that would likely fire off an EF investigation. Oswald hoped to soften any feelings of guilt and the finger pointing; especially his own.

  Each department head had their say, Oswald and McFarran prodding them when they were reluctant. It wasn’t about avoiding hurt feelings—it was about improving performance. Men had died and Oswald wanted all the constructive input he could get. Or so he told himself.

  Most of the comments were limited to the actions of each officer's own department. Some complained about too much chatter on the net, some of not enough information. Gresh repeated, as he did in every after action, that he thought the flight commander shouldn't have access to the big-eye whenever he wanted.

  The conversation got a bit touchy when the topic of the Rangers came up. Each took a portion of the blame on themselves. Oswald was proud of their willingness to shoulder blame, even if undeserved. Throughout the discussions he emphasized how proud he was of their character and their performance.

  "Colonel, can I speak next?" Mathesse did not mind interrupting other people. Oswald hated the discourtesy of it but let it go, especially after the man's performance over DPV.

  "Certainly."

  "I think many of you guys are missing something big here." Mathesse tapped the Lucky Star on his chest. "I know what it's like to lose crew. In a big way. Those Rangers were a good lot, but they didn't die trying to rescue some dingle-berry colonists that wandered off the reservation and got lost.

  into semi-organized whining the first battle these men had

  "Roland kicked some serious tail today. We blew the crap out an army of giant alien death bot monsters in their own backyard, got the goods, kissed the girl, and now we're making away like bandits."

  Oswald agreed with that last statement at least.

  "Who'd you kiss?" Breen asked uncomfortably.

  "Giant alien death bot bug monsters people with disintegrators!" Mathesse reiterated excitedly, rolling his eyes at Breen.

  "You can't actually disinteg—" Engineer Bowens started.

  "Yeah, yeah, I know." Mathesse waved a dismissive hand over his head. "I'm sure we'll figure out the pure science behind our guys unexpectedly going away and come up with a fancy yet scientifically accurate name for the phenomenon. In the meantime, I'd like to point out that our gunners semi-manually blasted those things into pieces." Mathesse made two pistols with his hands. "I'd like put my gunner-girls, Lieutenants Nora Gilweh and Vier Relor, up for commendations by the way." Mathesse paused to noisily catch his breath.

  "The Rangers got a few of those things too. And Roland got to use ORBAM for the first time. Did you see those seeker heads pound the rusty buggers apart?"

  "Yeah!" Breen shouted back.

  "Freakin' stellar!" Mathesse found a rogue bubble of Delamain and happily licked it out of the air with a flick of his tongue. "We did great, piss-ant mistakes aside. And you, Colonel," he stopped and gave an informal but sincere salute. "You saved our rears. You were freakin' swag!" The officers cheered agreement and some started clapping.

  Oswald usually let such celebrations die out on their own when directed at others. He was too embarrassed to accept such praise.

  "Roland did do well,” Oswald agreed loudly, redirecting the stampede before it crushed him. “Good points Mr. Mathesse. Now, whose turn was it before they were so rudely interrupted?"

  The last few officers had their say, McFarran and Oswald finishing the AAC up. There had been mistakes identified, things tried that had and hadn't helped, processes that always needed some tweaking. Oswald expressed his pride in the crew again, gotten some very good feedback, and had not had to stop anyone from crying. He almost got away.

  "Very well, gentlemen. If there are no other comments?"

  "Sir?" McFarran spoke up carefully. It had been a long conference and the adrenaline was fading, making the officers tired and impatient. A few grew visibly impatient, wanting to finish here so they could finish their own inner department debriefing and get some chow. Others looked very interested in what the Aux might ask, perhaps seeing if he would ask something they had decided to pass on.

  "Yes, Aux?"

  "Sir, why did you order the abort for site two? I saw no obvious reason to change their mission. And why didn't you take down site two's power grid as well? The Ranger team might have made it back to the capsule in time to make recovery orbit." He shrugged apologetically. "Of course we can't know that, but why? Why did you do it?”

  And there it was. Calm and professional, but an accusation none the less. At the time of the sudden order, he wasn't sure himself. Just a nagging, just a gut feeling. Commanders sometimes had to listen to them despite their ephemeral nature. Oswald listened to his instinct to the mortal detriment of Team Two. There was no way to know that they would have made it had Oswald done differently; he had after all covered the other two teams as best as possible and they died anyway.

  It was a deliberate decision that could be traced directly to a fatal outcome and McFarran was right to address it. They could have recovered two beacons, possibly. Team Two might have made it. Oswald stared down at the surface of the table for a long time, chewing on his reasons.

  "I didn't want to blow out all the candles in the lighthouse."

  Chapter 12 The theory that it was a mechanical or software issue that prevented a clear viewing of the alien artifact was incorrect. Oswald stood staring at the thing not two meters away and his brain still refused to assign a shape to it. It was like trying to stare into a 3-D stereogram that refused to reveal the hidden picture, no matter how long he stared or how hard he crossed his eyes. He wasn't even sure he wanted to see it.

  "Try turning it this way." Oswald indicated the motion by twisting his own hand. The tinny that engineering scraped together from the wreckage of the recovered capsule complied, but to no avail. Oswald still couldn't understand what it looked like. The tinny grasped the walls with an arm and a leg for stability and held the UXA with the other two. Its small sensor cluster stared lifelessly at Oswald, awaiting instructions.

  "What about you, Hashi? Can you make anything of it?" "Sir, not a thing. A complete mystery." The Aux Officer's face had returned closer to normal, his body fluids equalizing during the last few weeks in space. "Sir, it is like I simply cannot focus on it. Like when a video is blurred out to protect an identity. But..."

  "But it doesn't look like it is obviously blurred out," Oswald finished."

  "Sir, yes! Absolutely that is it."

  Oswald tried again, wondering if taking some crazy tribal hallucinogen or LSD might alter his perception enough to see it. The tinny hung motionless, waiting.

  The tinny almost joined the recovery capsule when it was jettisoned. A junior technician said she thought there were enough working modules to scavenge one working robot and the request had been passed up to Oswald. He signed off on it easily, remembering how well they performed on DPC. Everything else on the recovery pod, save a few laser cannons, had been a total combat loss.

  "Rocketman, return item to cargo box and store box in safe." The robot complied with machine precision and became motionless again.

  Oswald locked the cargo safe with a scan of its retinal scanner. "You hear t
hat, Hashi?"

  "Sir, yes I do." McFarran made a distasteful expression. "Even through the safe. As if it has infected Roland's very walls."

  "That, Hashi, sounds exactly right." Oswald slipped his tablet from his flight suit and ran through the Roland's status screens again. Everything was still green. They had passed the jump threshold yesterday but Oswald wanted everyone rested and all systems shaken out just in case the Centauri were there waiting eagerly for their return.

  "Sir, everything is still prepared for travel back to Sol. Shall we send the jump comm?"

  "Yes, Aux. Have C'n D send it and we'll jump in one hour."

  "Sir, very good." McFarran saluted and drifted nose-ward towards the communications pod.

  Jump communication was discovered quite by accident when Dr. Beth Valki, an engineer from Ford-Tanshi Aerospace, noticed that unstable jump tunnels that collapsed before transit could even begin still generated a minute jump signature at the far end. She programmed a small jump generator so that all of its jumps would fail and sent a simple Morse code signal from Alpha Centauri to Sol using failed jumps. The complex cyphers needed to ensure any level of security for an essentially binary, unidirectional, and easily detectable signal ensured that even very short messages required a great many pulses and significant energy expenditures.

  Roland was sending just such a complex message; 'Here we come.'

  Oswald changed into a fresh flight suit and took a tiny pull on the bottle of Delamain. By the time he'd made his way to the command pod the jump comms had been sent to Earth Force command and acknowledged with a single pulse. External sensors indicated a short thermal spike, classed as likely cosmic radiation interaction, and all armaments were ready to go. Oswald announced thirty minutes to jump and ordered Roland to hazard stations. No one wanted to take a chow break this time, but at least there were no jump-cherries for the return trip.

  "Command, this is Aux. Operations net twenty has commenced."