With Our Dying Breath

by Unknown

  "Are they speaking French?"

  "I think so, Pierce."

  "What's with the first names?" Oswald bristled at the repeated

  informal address.

  "Earth Force is gone, Pierce. We're not here on orders. We're men

  fighting for what we've lost. Please don't misunderstand. I don't mean

  it as disrespect, but as an honor if you will." Mathesse turned to face

  Oswald, jocularity and sarcasm absent. "We have transcended Earth

  Force. Or at least outlived it."

  Oswald had commanded men long enough to know when he was

  being set up. While he had grown to dislike his tactical officer in these

  final days, Mathesse made a good point. That was the trouble;

  Mathesse was full of good points. They were points Oswald didn't really

  want to hear.

  "I would prefer to keep at least a semblance of military bearing,

  Lieutenant Major." Oswald met Mathesse's eyes. "And for that very

  reason. With Earth Force gone, some of those left need that structure.

  They need a reason to follow orders besides my good looks and your

  great personal charm."

  Mathesse smiled at the last comment. "Alright, Colonel. I'll buy that.

  But if you'll take an official, bona fide Earth Force suggestion from your

  tactical officer, you might want to get your head back in the game.

  We're running out of time and I don't think," he paused to give

  McFarran a sidelong glance, "everyone is one the same page." Oswald glanced at his Aux Officer before turning back to the dark

  sky outside the dome. He shook his head in dismay. Another freaking

  good point. "Taken. I haven't even looked at my reports. How's Breen

  coming with that Centauri jump core?"

  "He's never going to figure out exactly how it works. But he's hacked

  the security—apparently the Centipedes were counting on the soldiers,

  locks, and mankind's sanity to keep people out." Mathesse crossed his

  eyes and twirled his finger at his head. "Obviously they weren't

  planning on us."

  "Anyway, he also thinks he figured out how to program it. He's been

  staring at that Q-puter screen as long as you've been staring out the

  window." Mathesse offered a kind smile. "That Centipede, Bawk-BawkBawk, or whatever, helped him with some of the translations I think.

  Just in case you want to take Earth back to Sol." He gave Oswald a

  conspiratorial wink.

  "For all the good it would do," Oswald replied distantly, "I think that

  is just what I might want to do. It just seems right. Maybe." "We should stick to our plan of making them pay. Even if we do

  eventually put Earth back. I would like to tell you about this now."

  Mathesse pointed to the small jewel that represented being awarded

  his third Lucky Star. "Only one other person earned, though that is

  really the wrong word, three. He didn't get a forth but I hear his

  monument is—was—very nice. I didn't want to talk about it before, back on Luna. I've never spoken of it except to the flight psychologist

  that cleared me. Would you like to hear about it?"

  Oswald could feel the pitch was still underway. But he had to admit

  that he did want to know. Mathesse wasn't all sarcasm and brass purely

  for his own amusement. Even though he'd been cleared back to duty,

  the details of his last Lucky Star had been sealed even from his flight

  commanders. Oswald hadn't liked that and all his requests to EF were

  rejected.

  "Sure."

  "I was on

  Maricopa. She

  Barnard's Star. While you were destroying their HQ, we were raiding a

  supply station. Maricopa ran it just right—like you do.

  "We hit, took everything out, and then followed a path behind

  Berny VI to keep us out of sight. Unfortunately we either had taken a

  hit or just had an ill-timed structural failure. We fired off our LANTRn

  and the back half of the ship just fell off." Mathesse was now the one

  staring off into the night.

  "Which was a good thing. If the reactor hadn't fallen off we'd all

  have been toasted. But Starlancer was done. And that wreckage was

  abandoned. We heard the calls for our status, heard the call from

  someone who said they saw us. Our comms were down. We were

  declared KIA and unrecoverable for now.

  "Maricopa tried everything. We fired off the attitude thrusters. We

  shot survival flares out the gaping holes in our hull. We even did an EVA

  and waved our hands and flashed lights.

  "But it was a mess out there. By the time we had come back around

  we were surrounded by the debris of that which we destroyed. We

  listened to the comms as the rest of the fleet left us behind. I can't

  blame them though. Maricopa told us a salvage sortie was planned for

  six months since your force had been successful. I had already been

  stashing food and O2 away."

  the Starlancer being commanded by had just taken us through a Centauri Lite Colonel squadron in Mathesse paused for a long moment. Oswald wondered if whatever

  manipulation Mathesse had planned in this telling was backfiring. "I killed Maricopa when she confronted me. She did it privately to

  try to keep things calm, so no one saw. I used her ID to set traps until

  the others figured out what was going on. It's easy to build bombs with

  the things you can find on a war rocket. Especially if you work in

  Tactical. If you mix certain things, not only will they explode but also

  create a poison cloud. You don't even know you've been poisoned until

  it's too late."

  "Am I going to have to shoot you after this story, Asher?" "That will be up to you I suppose. I won't fight you if you decide to."

  Mathesse's grin was devil-may-care. "But I know how to survive. I didn't

  wait for a lottery that time. I made my own luck."

  "You killed all the survivors?"

  "Not all of them. Some of them killed each other when they realized

  what game was being played. But they were already two spaces back

  on the board. Don't pass go, don't collect money, or however that game

  went. No need for details I suppose, though I'm happy to satisfy your

  morbid curiosity if you want. I killed about ten of Starlancer's children. I

  survived until the recovery team came. They didn't.

  "From the supplies I had left when the salvage squadron came, I

  knew I had chosen right. I even had to do an EVA to get the last guy. He

  was up in the nose with some food and had blocked off the main

  passage." Mathesse laughed softly. "You should have seen the look on

  his face when I depressurized his compartment from the outside and

  flung him into space."

  Oswald stared at Mathesse's profile, trying to divine any clue to the

  veracity of the tale. It was so ridiculous and brutal, yet it was so

  Mathesse, that Oswald decided that at least the bulk of it was as the

  man remembered.

  "And they let you come on my rocket?"

  Mathesse smiled. "I lied to my shrink. I sure as blazes wasn't going

  to Luna Correctional Center. As cozy as it is compared to Earth-side

  military prisons, I had Centauri to kill.

  "I've never told anyone what really happened, Pierce. Sorry...

  Colonel. Or at least that I was the one that had done it. I described

  everything to Earth Force but I blamed it all
on Major Uretz." "The Aux?"

  "The Aux." Mathesse turned back to Oswald. "He was a good officer.

  He actually died when the LANTRn went out trying to do damage

  control. And I liked him well enough."

  "Not enough to keep his name clean."

  "I needed to pick someone who had flight commander access." "So why tell me all this now?" Oswald looked around the dome and

  its sorry inhabitants.

  "To confess my sins, Father." Mathesse started playfully, then the

  smile slipped from his face. "I want you to know how I survived. What

  I'm willing to do. What I'm willing to do for you."

  "If I do what you want you mean." Oswald hadn't asked it as a

  question.

  "It is also to let you know what you might have to do. I'm behind

  you. You need to know that when Hashi starts getting weak-kneed.

  When he starts telling you we can all be friends. When he starts getting

  French."

  "Come on, already. That stereotype died out before the UN did." "The Centauri killed all my friends, Colonel. They are not my friends.

  They are not yours either. And neither is anyone willing to get in bed

  with them. We aren't fighting for survival now. You know that, right?

  We're fighting for vengeance. We're fighting for blood. There's no one

  here who can help you with that like I can. That was the moral of my

  story." Mathesse turned and strode away, leaving Oswald to wonder at

  the good points he saw in the midst of the man's vitriolic insanity. He

  wondered if that meant he too was insane.

  Chapter 31 Oswald was angry at himself for checking out as long as he had. Catching up with reports due to being overwhelmed was bad enough, but missing out on vital information because you were having a temper-tantrum was something else.

  Doctor Hines finished his analysis of the Centauri food. It was composed of compatible proteins and carbohydrates and sugars but, as his report noted, 'tastes like crap without ketchup (and EF ketchup is crappy enough) and results in severe squirts.' Oswald assumed the doctor had learned that last fact from his own personal field research.

  Breen's report stated he could now set coordinates and activate the Centauri jump station. He claimed it was actually quite easy through the Q-puter interface he had programmed. The file also shyly admitted what Mathesse had already told Oswald; the tech behind moving an entire planet was beyond Breen without more time to study.

  Oswald opened a report from Mathesse that stated he had used 'aggressive interrogation techniques' to learn that the rail across the northern ice cap was used to launch large ice packets into slowly decaying orbits to get water into the atmosphere for terraforming efforts. Tok-Een-Glet had mentioned that but given no details at the time. More importantly the launch controls were here in the dome.

  Oswald would have to see if they could actually control the launcher—he had a few ideas for targets that needed large chunks of ice smashing into them at several kilometers a second. Knowing that grave damage could be done to the Centauri worlds might come in handy when it came time to finalize that final, squishy plan that just would not coalesce in his mind.

  "Colonel Oswald, this is Roland."

  "Go, Relor."

  "Our eye in the sky reports a jump signature and is tracking in a slow

  moving heat source." She sounded nervous. "I think the Centauri have sent the cops." "Roger that, Relor. You know what to do." Oswald pulled up the tactical display on his tablet but it had no useful information yet, just the large question mark indicating an unknown track. "Keep everything passive. Detonate a T-REX if they look to try aggressive maneuvers. Use a kinetic kill if they make orbit."

  "Roger that, Colonel." Hashi was walking purposefully towards Oswald. Rocketman, now armed with two Centauri assault rifles, magazines, and grenades, stood motionless over the prisoners like a robotic gargoyle. It stood an immobile, ominous vigil except for the few patrols around the outside of the dome Oswald ordered.

  "Sir, they have come at last."

  "So it seems. They've grown soft after they murdered us." "Sir, may we talk?"

  "This isn't' the time, Hashi."

  "With all due respect sir, I think it is." McFarran looked calm but

  Oswald could see the man's agitation in the way he was wiggling his fingers. "We are about to engage their spacecraft. You have ruled out diplomacy. I don't think it is wise, sir."

  "I hear you, Hashi. But we have already taken hostages, captured this facility, and killed Centauri in the process. It looks like they've only sent one craft. So they either aren't concerned with us or don't understand the situation." Oswald smiled wickedly. "We shall explain it to them."

  "Sir—"

  "Now is not the time, Aux," Oswald answered in a firm staccato. McFarran stared at his flight commander for a long moment. "Yes,

  sir." He gave Oswald a quick, rhetorical salute before storming off. Oswald saw Mathesse try to hide his grin and gave an innocent shrug of his shoulders.

  The tactical display pieced together a flight profile for the incoming craft. The exposed laser array and missile bay gave it away as some sort of military vessel but the profile was not recognized by Oswald or Roland. It was trying to travel as stealthily as possible, probably not aware of the sensor drones being used against it.

  Oswald watched as the Centauri craft slipped into an orbit that would give it a clear pass over the dome site; they had taken the most obvious course possible and it cost them dearly. Ten minutes later Oswald doubted they even saw what destroyed them.

  Ten hours later another Centauri craft appeared, this time on the dome side of Earth, enabling it to probably get a good sensor sweep of the dome and the ancient Earth rocket parked outside, before the TREX planted nearby detonated and destroyed it in a forest of plasma plumes.

  With each downed Centauri craft, Hashi grew more nervous and tried to approach. Oswald brushed him off angrily, hiding behind the excuse of the battle. McFarran knew as well as he that at this point the battle would have to be resolved. They were stuck in place and only had the few remaining remotes to fight off an endless enemy fleet. It reminded him of that ancient game called 'Space Invaders.' He had never been very good at it. They would have to liftoff soon if Roland was going to wreak havoc in Beta Hydri. Oswald still hadn't decided quite what to do.

  It came to him that he'd never actually planned a static defense. He was the bull dog; Earth Force always sent him straight for the jugular. Of course he'd performed defensive maneuvers, escorts, and had protected valuable assets, but he'd never been so shackled in one place like this.

  Oswald and Mathesse stood close together, watching the tactical situation develop on their tablets. A commotion among the prisoners drew their attention. When they looked up, Rocketman had a man lifted by the throat and a Centauri assault rifle sweeping the crowd, drawing cries of fear and anger.

  One of the men looked angrily at Oswald and began calling out to him in Centauri. Oswald raised a brow at Tok-Een-Glet. "I've been telling them what you people have been saying," TokEen-Glet admitted. "This man is very angry that you have destroyed so many ships. His son might be on one of them."

  Oswald and Mathesse exchanged glances. "Oh, Lord! Save us from the fury of the Earthmen," Mathesse intoned ecstatically.

  Oswald laughed despite himself. Whatever else he might question about the tactical officer's character, Oswald respected someone who appreciated history. "Tell him that it might be his son that drops the bomb on us all then," Oswald said before leading Mathesse to a couch out of earshot of the prisoners.

  Three more craft jumped in, flying in an aggressive echelon formation—someone had sent in a commander who knew what he was about. They were not going to slow down, they were going to fly past at high velocity, trying to draw fire, make a sensor sweep, and exploit what they found.

  Oswald watched them approach, s
kim an orbital path, and trick Relor into setting off a kinetic kill remote. He cursed softly—he knew what they were up to and watched them all that time, not even considering that Relor might not see it.

  "Oops!" Mathesse looked up at Oswald from his tablet and raised his eyebrows. "Who knew?"

  "Burn it." Oswald knew that losing one remote wouldn't change his life expectancy by more than a few hours in the grand scheme of things. The expected kill path of the cloud of shards was easily avoided by the Centauri squadron. He believed their plan was to speed by, cause or discover a hole in the orbital munitions, then jump to a position to begin approaching that chink in the armor. It's what he would do, what he had done, centuries before the enemy pilots were born.

  One of the enemy craft drifted to close and Oswald ordered a T-REX detonated. Relor had realized her mistake and grown timid at just the wrong time. It was only one of a few left, but it burned into one of the ships as it sped away, showers of flame and debris flying off the target's nose. It broke formation and lazily tumbled alone into the black.

  "How's my ice cannon coming, Mr. Mathesse?"

  "Ready to fire when you are, Colonel. Breen really knows his stuff. We'll only be able to get two planets, we missed the launch window for the first planet by a week." Mathesse made an exaggerated snap with his fingers. "But I have good tracks for the station over gas giant two, the station over planet three, and what looks like a large colony on the surface of said same planet. Assuming the mass of the ice blocks is accurate. And I think they are."

  Oswald didn't bother trying to verify the numbers this time. He left his skilled tactical officer to maliciously fire off the gigantic snow balls while Oswald fought off a wave of crushing pointlessness. He chuckled wryly to himself, wondering at the ridiculousness of how he had arrived here. His chest was starting to feel tight.

  "Just think," Mathesse continued wistfully. "Six and eight months from now, regardless of what happens to us, those poor Centipedes who had so fervently thanked whatever gods they thank for their salvation from us, will be woken up rudely one shift by the proximity klaxons warning blare.