by Mark Tufo
The Traverse, our current home, was nearly unidentifiable. So many parts of it had yielded to the battle, it was not recognizable as the ship we had left seemingly years ago. How that was even remotely possible, I wasn’t sure. They were ordered to abandon ship. Shuttles were leaving in droves. Breeson, proving he was who he was, targeted more than a few of them. The Arundel was taking savage swipes at the Others warship to the point where the Iron Sides could not continue to sustain the damage it had. Before it buckled away, it turned everything it had on the brick ship. There were cries for help, even as the ship was completely and utterly destroyed. My mouth hung agape at the act of cruelty Breeson had performed on his own.
“He doesn’t want us to get ahold of the technology,” Cedar said as we flew back toward the Arundel. The area was littered with debris; heavy rumbling percussions came forth from the Traverse as she died a violent death. The Arundel and Lyman were sending their own shuttles with nearly suicidal pilots to off-load who they could from the doomed ship.
“Raven Wing 1, this is Raven Wing 8. We have fighters making a retreat,” Cedar announced.
“Pursue, do not destroy. We will catch up shortly.”
“Don’t destroy them my ass.”
“Cedar?” I interrupted her.
“Why don’t they want us to destroy them after everything they’ve done? Everything they’ve destroyed and taken?”
“Prisoners, I would think,” I answered, though I wasn’t entirely sure. “That’s not really why I’m asking a question though.”
“What’s going on, Winter?”
“We’re a long way ahead of our support, and there are fifteen fighters out there. What are we going to do if they decide to turn around and fire on us?”
“They can hope God will have mercy upon their souls.”
“I had a feeling you’d say something along those lines.”
“Come on, sis.”
The Others’ fighters were faster, but we were gaining.
“They’re conserving fuel,” Cedar said.
“Breeson must be coming back for them.”
“Let’s make sure there’s nothing to come back to,” Cedar replied.
They were running and we were chasing; yes, we had beaten them, but they still had long teeth and claws and could turn and fight at a moment’s notice.
I didn’t need to see Cedar to know the anger she had coursing through her. It oozed through every word she spoke.
We were gaining and had just reached range when five of the fighters slowed down.
“They’re turning to fight,” Cedar said as she let loose with her twin cannons. One of the fighters dissolved under the assault, the other four were turning. I shot, blowing a wing off of the nearest to me. The fighter flew away in tight circles. I was focused on the one furthest to the right as another took a wide arc in an attempt to get behind us. Cedar peeled away to cut him off. I appreciated the gesture, but now I had two coming straight for me.
“You’ve got this, Winter. Stay focused,” Cedar said. I was thankful she was keeping tabs on me; I’d be happier when she was by my side again.
An alarm went off that I was being targeted. I dove down and released a dozen flares. Once they were away, I pulled back up. I was looking straight at the bottom of the fighter that previously had me in his sights. I blew four holes straight up and through; his end came swiftly. The other was diving down to meet me. We were both locked on when he received impacts from the side. Cedar, after having killed the fighter she was engaged with, had come and broadsided the last of the five sent to slow us down or take us out.
“Let’s get the rest of them,” she said without losing a beat.
My radar showed that our reinforcements had gained during our dog fight but were still not close enough to assist us, should the rest of the Others turn. We were once again gaining on the remaining ten. I was good; Cedar was otherworldly with her skills. Still, two on ten might be odds we could not overcome.
“Iron Sides’ fighters. You will shut down your thrusters and your weapons systems. We will escort you back to the Arundel,” Cedar announced on the universal channel.
“Like hell we will!”
“Fire when ready,” Cedar said to me. “She was bluffing or she wouldn’t have said it over the broadcast.
They kept running. None had yet turned to fight. Cedar flipped back to private.
“Looks like they’re going to need convincing.”
“You sure, Cedar? It’s one thing when we’re fighting, but they’re running away.”
“Breeson was firing on evacuating shuttles; pretty sure anything goes with them.”
She fired—her shots went wide to the left. She never misses; she’d given them a warning…one that they did not heed. Again she let loose a wave of projectiles. These were the less lethal 30mm cannon rounds, hellacious to ground forces, fighters could generally take a few before suffering irrevocable damage. The engine compartment of the one she had shot at blew out in a large blue burst before thick black smoke poured forth.
“I can do this all day,” she told them. “Or you can surrender.” We flew past the stalled fighter. Nothing. Crickets rubbing their legs together two miles away would have made more noise. If they were talking, it wasn’t to us.
The fighter we’d left in our wake took an ill-advised and badly-aimed shot; he or she paid for it with their life as our vanguard cleaned up the stain upon the inky blackness of space.
“And then there were nine.” Cedar almost sang the words.
I was having a moral dilemma. On one hand, they were trying to get away, but it wouldn’t be forever; whoever we let go here, we would very likely meet again, and it was impossible to know what damage they could inflict next time. I fired. I’d chosen which side of the line I wanted to be on. I was assured this would keep me up at night, but I could also rest assured that no one would die from these fighters because I didn’t do what needed to be done. Unlike Cedar, I hit it with my front plasma cannons; there wasn’t much left as its parts blew outwards.
“Needed to be done,” Cedar said, somehow knowing what was going through my mind; it was going through hers as well.
“You need to stop,” I told the eight left.
“It sounds like two girls, Wombat. I can take them,” one of the pilots said.
“That was very similar to what the five I sent to stop them said.” It was a female voice and I assumed, Wombat. “Arundel fighters, we are powering down.”
“Are you insane?”
“Beaker, what’s left of this platoon is now under my command. You will stand down!” Wombat yelled. It was easy enough to hear in her voice she was losing her grip.
“I’ll be damned if I’m going to become Geno food.” Beaker banked hard to come up on us.
“I’ve got him,” I told Cedar. “You keep watch on them.
She said nothing. It’s difficult to cheer someone on when they’re going to kill another. Even when they were the enemy, it just isn’t a celebratory event. Not sure what was going through Beaker’s mind, but as he was pulling out of his turn, he was firing wildly and yelling a loud “ARRRR!” as if he already knew the outcome and was preparing for the finality of it.
“Wombat, this is insane! Are you just going to let him die?” another of the squadron asked.
“Deuce, I outrank you. I was pinned with my wings before you. He’s flying against a direct order. You want to join him, go ahead,” Wombat replied.
“Deuce, you so much as turn that engine on and I will splash you,” Cedar said icily.
Something in Beaker had snapped; seemed he wanted to die much more than he wanted to be captured. He turned his ship so that I was looking at the top of his canopy and wings. I strafed him as he flew past. There was a cry of release and then nothing more as his ship kept flying, its sole occupant long past caring where it was headed. By the time I got back to Cedar, we had a squad of back-up fighters with us.
“You have done well here,” Under-Aviator De
nathin said as we were escorting the fighters back to the Arundel’s hangar.
I had not been prepared for what awaited us there. We had to wait to board as the hangar floor had become a triage for those injured in the battle. Many Genogerians were burned beyond recognition, though somehow they were still alive. Bones protruded from various arms and legs, blood ran in rivers from the number of injuries. Meddies were running back and forth doing what they could to stem the tide of death that had swept across our ranks. I was so engaged with my battle it had never occurred to me the sheer number of casualties that had been suffered. I nearly doubled over when I remembered that Tallow, Serrot, and Lendor had been on the Traverse.
“I don’t see them.” Cedar had grabbed my hand.
“What will happen to us?” Wombat asked. She was kneeling on the deck, her hands clasped above her head just like the six with her. Two Genogerian guards were preparing to handcuff them and get them to a cell. I didn’t even look her way at the entreaty. Absolutely didn’t care if they were released or eaten. If something bad were to happen to them, they would have deserved it.
“I asked what are you savages going to do with us!” she screamed hysterically.
I couldn’t contain myself. Even through my fear and angst, I spun on her. “Savages? Who attacked who first? Who shot at defenseless shuttles trying to bring survivors to safety? That can all be laid at your feet. Whatever happens to you now is fine with me!”
She sagged down at first, as one of the guards put cuffs on her hands and then roughly pulled her to her feet.
“Where are they?” Cedar was looking through the scattered carnage of broken bodies, searching for those we cared about.
Breathing was becoming difficult as panic surged inside of me. Came across Porter; he had a bandage wrapped around his head and his arm was in a cast. He was sitting up, a dazed expression upon his face.
“Porter!” I yelled much too loudly. I was concerned for him, but I needed to know. “Are you all right” and “Where are they?” came out in one long sentence.
“I will be fine. And I am sorry, Winter. We were together for a while, but in the confusion and explosions, I lost consciousness. I do not know what became of them.”
I saw the lithe form of Frost bounding in our direction. “It is good to see you well. Gather your sister and come with me.” If possible, my heart sank further.
“Cedar! Let’s go!”
“I haven’t found them.”
“Frost has.”
We were racing down the massive hallways, doing our best to keep up with Frost. That we were running gave me hope. Because the dead will wait. But it also could be that they were so badly injured it was imperative that we get there as soon as possible. How bad were they that they had jumped to the head of the line and were now in the hospital? As we got closer, I saw a huddled form with his back against the wall, his head in hands.
Cedar was slowing down. “It’s…it’s Tallow. Where is Serrot?”
“Tallow?” I asked, coming to a stop right in front of him.
He looked up. He had a shiner that did little to hide the fact that he’d been crying. “Winter?” It took him a moment to recognize me, maybe because of the haze of tears or the crack he had taken to the head. He stood with a slight wobble. “It’s good to see you,” he sobbed into my shoulder.
“Where’s…where’s Serrot?” Cedar begged.
Tallow let out an involuntary cry before looking to her. He released me and moved toward her. He said nothing but the action implied the meaning.
“NO! You will not hug me! I will not accept this!” she screamed. She was going to push her way through the doors that led to the surgical section.
“Cedar please.” Tallow had his arms outstretched; I think to comfort her as much as himself. Frost’s tail was swishing back and forth in an agitated manner.
“Who’s in there!” she demanded.
“It’s Lendor. We were all together, heading for the shuttle when an explosion ripped through the side of the ship. Serrot, he saved us…he tossed me out of the way and covered up Lendor with himself.”
“You’re wrong! He’s alive! I’d know if he had died. I want to see him!”
“He did not make it over,” Frost told her.
“You left him there? How could you leave him there? I need to go back and get him. He’ll be so alone and scared.”
She turned and was heading back to the hangar, I would imagine to go and grab a shuttle.
“Stay with her,” Tallow said.
“What about Lendor?”
“Internal bleeding…but they think they got to him soon enough. Go.”
Cedar had a head start and she was running on pure adrenaline. I could not keep up with her. She was weaving through those on the hangar and was heading right for where I thought she might be. I caught up to her just as she began arguing with a guard to get out of her way.
“I have to get over to the Traverse! You will move.”
He was as understanding as he could be, given the circumstances. “There is nothing to go over to.”
“I will determine that for myself!”
“Look through the ports, little one.” He was pointing to the far wall. Cedar seemed reluctant to leave the shuttle area, as if this were some trick on his part and he would hide the ships from her before she could get back. She moved slowly, not wanting to see the truth. The longer it took for her to get there, the longer she could hold on to the belief that everything was going to be all right. I didn’t attempt to stop her, to hug her in solace or even give her the worst words that one could in this situation: that it would be all right. Because it wouldn’t. Not now and not for a good long while.
I stayed a few feet behind her as she made her way over; didn’t even need to look to see how bad it was. The glow of the burning ship was flooding through the windows, bathing her face in a ghostly light. Deep shadows formed under her eyes. Still, she moved closer until she could place her hand against the indifferent glass.
“Why didn’t I know?” she asked me. “I should have felt his passing, right? Shouldn’t I?” She had not turned to me. “He must…he could still be alive.”
I took this opportunity to look at the Traverse; what was left of the giant ship was a raging inferno. I tenderly touched her shoulder and pulled her away. She did so without fighting me. We sat in her room for an hour, never once did she cry.
“I’m so tired, Winter. I’m going to get some sleep. Please go and check on Lendor and Tallow.” Her deep racking sobs chased me out the door. I cried for her, I cried for Serrot, I cried for all that were lost and all who remained to suffer the loss of someone dear to them. Just because Genogerians displayed their emotions differently did not belie how strongly they had been affected today. More than a few times I saw them walking around with what I can only describe as a hollow expression. So profound were their depths of misery, they could not interact with those around them.
When Graylon spoke over the ship’s communications announcing that we would be buckling soon, I knew that was where I wanted to go: the bridge. The Geno meddie had cleared Tallow; he had a mild concussion and needed a few days’ rest. And Lendor, he would “make it or he wouldn’t.” Those were the doctor’s exact words, and though my friend was out of surgery and in recovery, I could not yet see him. I got Tallow to bed and went to see Graylon.
He saw me as I entered. “You fought courageously.”
“You as well,” I replied.
“Yes, but not well enough to save our ship. The lives lost will not be forgotten nor replaced. We have suffered a great victory here at great cost. We will not be able to bask in the glory of it.”
I’d yet to encounter a Genogerian well versed in sarcasm, though I was certain that Graylon’s last sentence was steeped in it.
“Why are we leaving? We haven’t even gone to the surface. We fought for this; isn’t Earth our spoil?”
“Commander Breeson will be back, and if he shows up with another o
f those buckle drive inhibitor ships, we will be forced to fight a battle I do not believe we will survive.”
“So we are running, like the pirates?”
“This ship is damaged, as is the Lyman; we are not in a position to force our might onto anyone. As it is, finding safe harbor for repairs may be difficult.”
“So that’s it? It’s over?”
“Far from it. It does not make sense to stand one’s ground merely for the principal of the matter. I wish to win this war, Winter, not make a statement.”
“Did you know that the pirates are really part of the Earth Corps?”
“I did, though they are merely a shadow of their former greatness.”
“Are you so sure about that? Those missiles they fired destroyed that Buckle Stopper.”
“They did indeed. If you are thinking they would make a good alliance, I should tell you that they have never aligned with anyone. What they did, they did so they could escape. With that being said, they did send a burst message directed to you before they left.”
“A burst message?”
“A highly compressed data stream that is directed precisely, and if not picked up by the intended receiver, dissolves into nothingness. I’ve had my communications officer isolate it and place it on a computing device not attached to the ship’s system.”
Pretty sure my eyebrows kept furrowing.
“A virus can be sent this way,” he offered as explanation.
“To make people sick?” I was still lost.
“A virus that can infect machines.”
“There’s such a thing?”
“Mm. Incredibly dangerous events on a ship.”
“Where’s the computing device?”
He pointed to an empty workstation. The display was attached to the console, like all the others. “This one?”
