Harper took a seat by the center table. “No, it wouldn’t. They can court-martial me when…if I make it home. Regardless, I’m going down there.”
“This doesn’t sound like you. At least, not anymore.”
“Yeah, well.”
“Yeah, well what, John? Why the sudden change?”
Harper had to stop and think for a moment. He hadn’t really noticed when the change occurred, or thought about why. “Before Captain McLeod died, the very same day, he told me the one quality a Captain needed that I lacked, was knowing when to bend the rules. I didn’t think I would ever be able to do that again, but apparently I was wrong.”
“I don’t think suicide missions is what he had in mind.”
“It isn’t about putting myself in danger. It’s about doing what has to be done. This has to be done. There is no better way to accomplish both of our mission objectives. Why is this such a problem for you? I thought you missed the old maverick.”
She finally turned from the screen, her eyes moist and her teeth gritted as she struggled not to shout at him. “Because I don’t want you to get killed down there, John. I don’t think I could live with that.”
“Sarah, we’re career military officers. We have been since we met. The odds have always been that one or both of us would die before we retire. What did you expect?” Harper was starting to feel a little heated and struggled to keep his own voice under control.
“I expected us to face it together. You were my wing man. At least then, and even up here, anything that did you in would likely get me too.”
Her face went red and she turned away. Harper stared at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t realize that’s how you felt.”
"That’s why I transferred,” she replied, not turning back to him. "As soon as the Resolution was nearing completion, I knew they would put you on it, and I knew I had a good chance of ending up here too if I transferred. That’s where I wanted to be. Fighting side-by-side with you again.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do,” she said, looking him dead in the eye. “That doesn’t change anything though, does it?”
Harper felt a pang of guilt, but forced himself to maintain eye contact and an expression that communicated his resolve. “No, it doesn’t. I still have to go.”
There was a long silence where they simply stared at each other. They seemed to be looking past each other’s eyes and into each other’s souls. Her expression was that of frustration and disappointment, and his of regret and determination.
“Am I dismissed,” she asked
“Sarah-“
“Am I dismissed,” she said louder, cutting him off. Harper nodded and she walked towards the hatch. Before she stepped through, she turned to him again. “Do me a favor, John.”
“What’s that?”
“Be sure to make it back. I’ll make sure you have somewhere to land.”
She left without waiting for an answer. Harper watched the door for a moment. He truly didn’t known how she felt about him, though he had long felt a bond with her. Given the circumstances, it wasn’t a line of thought either of them could follow. He crossed his arms and looked back at the screen. Though the layout would be downloaded to their personal data pads, he wanted to have it memorized. He would be better off if he didn’t have his head down looking at a map when they got there.
A long sigh escaped his lips, and there was a sense of restlessness falling over him. It was as if his work was as Captain was done. No more planning, few choices left to be made. All he could do now, was execute the plan, and hope it was all worth it.
He pondered for a moment about what would happen if they didn’t make it. How would anyone know what happened, he thought. Unhappy with the conclusion, he rolled his seat over to the computer screens. He input the order for a warp capable probe to be launched back towards human territory before they departed.
He began recording, and programmed the clearance level to the same code that appeared on the order to remove the Salaxian computer core. “I’m recording this message for posterity. I don’t know if anyone will ever hear this, much less if they’ll be human. But, I hope someone will find it, so they can understand who we were, and what sacrifices we made. If we fail our mission, or worse, the human race falls, I want someone to remember us. Seventy-five years ago, before the start of this endless war, we set aside our differences and colonized worlds more than thirty light-years from home. We thought we were alone in the galaxy, but we were wrong. For generations, soldiers and civilians alike have died fighting this genocidal race known as the Salaxians, and now I have been ordered to lead a small task force into enemy territory. My name is John Harper, Captain of the U.N.S Resolution, and this is our story”
Chapter 13
Demon Gods
July 4th 2213
0939
Redacted
Harper grinned from ear to ear as he plopped into the cockpit of the Mark III fighter. It felt like a homecoming after all the years since he left the S.S.D.F..
"Are you sure you’ll be able to handle this," Glenn called from the cockpit of the fighter to his right. "Controls have changed a bit since your old Mark I."
"For your information, Major, I had the operation manual on this fighter memorized before it was even in service. I think I can handle it."
Harper heard footsteps on the ladder and turned to see Parker looking back at him. She looked like she was in a considerably better mood. She beamed at him. "I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous."
Harper smiled back, relieved that she seemed to be more at peace with his mission. "Sorry, Commander, one of us has to keep the kids in line."
"We're twenty minutes out. Any last-minute orders?"
"Just make sure to pull Philly in as soon as she makes contact."
"Can do."
"And make sure to get Resolution as close to atmo as possible before we launch."
"I know."
"But facing away, so we don’t make it obvious what we're doing."
"I know."
"And-" He was cut off as Parker leaned into the cockpit and grabbed his head, pulling his lips into hers. His heart jumped into his throat and the blood rushed into his head. He felt her silently speaking to him through that kiss, more than she had said to him all the years they had known each other.
All of her fear, regret, and longing poured into him, and he was overwhelmed. He knew at that moment that she truly feared they may never see each other again. He also knew that she had accepted that, because she wouldn’t let her fear distract him from what he felt he had to do. She pulled away and looked him in the eye, "Good luck, Captain."
Harper watched as she stepped down the ladder and walked towards the hanger bay hatch. He was speechless, and even his internal thoughts had been replaced by a dull ringing sound. Looking over at Glenn, who was doing a flawless imitation of a surprised marble statue, he finally found his words. "Shut up."
"I didn’t-" Glenn started. "I mean... yes, sir."
Harper finished his preflight checklist and tried to find a way to secure the submachine gun in the cockpit, finding that the designers didn't have pilot involved ground missions in mind. After strapping it to the side of the seat, he scanned the hanger bay, watching the deck crew make final preparations. To the untrained eye, it looked no different than any other preflight operations. Harper, however, could see the difference today. Their bodies were going through the motions, but their faces betrayed a sense of hopelessness. Every one of them looked like they were going to their own funeral.
He couldn’t blame them, but he also couldn’t allow them to go into battle in that state of mind. He switched on the bailout radio attached to the ejector seat, which featured a handheld microphone. "Badstar to flight operations,"
"Go ahead," Anatoli replied.
"Patch me into the intercom." Harper stood up on the sides of the cockpit and clicked the mic again. Hearing the sound echo throug
hout the hanger bay he addressed the crew. "Everyone stop what you’re doing and listen up." He waited for the attention of everyone in eyesight, and hoped the rest of the crew was listening as well.
"I’m not going to lie to you, and tell you everything will be okay. That we'll all make it through this unscathed. I won’t even try to promise that any of us will make it out of this alive. What I will tell you, is that it doesn’t matter. What we're doing today isn’t about who survives, and who dies. It is not about how many of their ships we destroy, or how many are of ours are lost. It’s about showing them that they can no longer hide away safely, while sending ships to destroy our homes. Today, we are in their home. Today, they learn that they are not safe, because we know where they live, and we are pissed." The sea of faces underwent a change before his eyes. The mournful, beaten expressions gave way to confidence and determination. Harper continued with a little more fire in his voice than when he had started.
"I’ve served on three ships since I joined the fleet, but this is the first time the name has meant so much to me. Resolution; a firm decision to do or not do something. Resolution isn't about the odds, which are against us. Resolution isn’t about a sure thing, which this isn’t. Resolution is about making a decision to act, and doing it, no matter what the cost. Resolution is about braving the fires of hell, and daring the devil to take us on."
His heart was racing, and his fury was fueled by the fire in the eyes of the crew assembled in the hanger bay. Nearly to the point of yelling, he drove the point home. “Even if we die today, the Salaxians will remember us. We will become legends. They will name their demon gods after us, and those names will be spoken in hushed whispers, for fear of bringing our wrath upon them again. The name, Resolution, will haunt their dreams, and scare their children. So keep that name in your hearts, and spit it at our enemy. Stand with me, and fight with resolve, because this is your legacy. This is humanity’s revenge."
He released the button and let the mic slink back into the cockpit. The hanger bay filled with a deafening roar and thunderous applause. Chief Gallagher appeared at the top of ladder so suddenly it almost knocked Harper off balance. "Nice speech, Captain, but could you not stand on my fighter like that? You’ll bend the rails."
Harper looked at his feet before hastily jumping back in the cockpit. "Sorry, Chief."
"We'll have you on deck before the third wave is launched."
A series of klaxons and red lights blared suddenly, silencing the crew. "Battle stations. Battle stations. All hands to battle stations," Parker’s voice echoed across the hanger bay. Two minutes, Harper thought. Here goes nothing. He strapped himself in and donned his helmet before closing canopy.
On the bridge, Parker held her breath as Palmer counted down. They dropped out of warp and were greeted with empty space, aside from the gas giant and its moons.
"Nothing on RLADAR," Sato reported.
"Turn us away from the base. Anatoli, open the flight deck and lunch fighters," Parker ordered.
The ship turned as the door opened. She watched closely, keeping a mental count as the fighters were thrown into space, four at a time. Nearing the end of the second wave, there was a bright flash no more than 20 kilometers in front of the ship. "RLADAR contact. One Salaxian cruiser," Sato shouted.
"Load the ship to ship ammo in the point-defense cannons. Lock missiles and fire at will."
"Three more contacts. One dreadnought and two cruisers."
"Anatoli, get those fighters out of here!"
* * *
Harper craned his neck to get a full view out the forward doors of the flight deck. Resolution was relentlessly launching point-defense fire and missiles at a Salaxian cruiser. The cruiser occasionally managed to get a shot off at the Resolution, which shook the flight deck as the energy beams struck the hull.
Just as their platform was flush with the flight deck, three more warp flashes appeared just behind the disintegrating cruiser, the nearest revealing the form of a dreadnought. Harper could just make out the motion of scale like structures pushing away from the hull.
Glenn had spotted it too. “Looks like the Salaxian fighters weren't just an experiment," he remarked
"No, and if we don’t launch before all of them get here, we’ll have a serious issue getting down there unnoticed," Harper replied.
The two fighters were slowly taxied forward as the final wave was being launched. As the last four fighters from orange group left the flight deck, Harper and Glenn were pulled into launching position, and felt the magnetic catapult take hold. Just after the countdown started, there was an explosion just outside the flight deck doors. Harper spotted the debris of a Salaxian fighter, followed by one of their own.
"Shit. Badstar to flight operations, abort launch. Repeat. Abort launch."
"What are we gonna do," Glenn asked.
"We're going out the back door. Flight Operations, demagnetize and turn off the gravity on the landing strips."
There was a loud clunk as the magnets disengaged, and the fighters drifted off the deck. Harper turned his fighter around and engaged his ventral thrusters before accelerating over the three shuttles. Glenn followed suit, and both fighters went flying through the aft flight deck door, with the shuttles following a few hundred kilometers behind.
"Badstar to Orion, twenty kilometers to atmo. Make sure you keep your graviton generator off as we make our descent."
"Are you kidding me!? These are space superiority fighters. They're not designed for standard air travel."
"No. I'm not. Standard descent only. Besides, air superiority is in the pilot, not the fighter."
"We're liable the smash right into the ground."
"Relax. Aren’t you a descendent of THE John Glenn?"
"Yeah, direct descendent."
"He free fell into a thinner atmosphere than this, with nothing but a parachute. We’ll be fine."
"Why can’t we keep them on?"
"Graviton generators will light up their RLADAR like a Christmas tree. Keeping them off will make it harder for the turrets to get a lock on us."
"You’re the boss."
Moments later, their canopies filled with an orange glow as the friction between the fighters and the moon’s atmosphere increased. "I’m really not liking this," Glenn exclaimed.
"You’re a leaf on the wind."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"I don’t know. Something my flight instructor told us when a maneuver was making us nervous."
"Did it ever work?"
"Not really.” After several minutes of nerve-racking blindness, the friction decreased, and the moon surface came into focus. Harper could just make out the shape of the staggered laser turrets 10 kilometers ahead.
"Now comes the hard part," Harper explained. "Stay low and don’t miss any. If we do, we won’t have another shot before the shuttles reach them."
"Understood. I'll take the ones on the left." As they approached, the turrets sprung to life and focused on the fighters. They did their best to spray laser fire at the unfocused signals, but it was easily evaded.
Glenn came up on the first turret and fired a missile into its base structure, the explosion sending pieces of the turret itself flying in every direction. Harper fired on the next turret, hitting lower on the base, and the structure toppled over, landing inoperable on its side. Approaching the next target, Glenn had to dodge a surprisingly accurate volley before destroying it.
Stone’s voice broke in over the COM. "Shuttle three, come in." Harper glanced at his aft scope, and could see smoke pouring from the port engine of one of the shuttles. The momentary distraction nearly caused him to catch the full force of the next turrets volley. One of the bolts singed the side of his fuselage, just below the canopy. Harper returned fire in kind, reducing it to scrap metal.
"Stone, report," Harper shouted
"Shuttle three is hit. One engine destroyed, and I think there’s a hole in the viewport. She’s drifting and I can’t make radio cont
act."
Harper was about to reply, but what he saw next made his response irrelevant. The shuttle tilted sideways, gouging the soil with its wing before breaking apart in a ball of flame. "Shuttles one and two, increase your distance," Harper ordered, trying to keep his voice clear of emotion. We'll mourn the dead later, he thought to himself. We have to finish this, even if it kills us all.
The Resolution pulled alongside another Salaxian cruiser, already peppering it with point-defense fire as it lined up directly beside it. Parker gave the order to fire Resolution's broadside cannons, unleashing a storm of explosive charges at point-blank range, and ripping the hull wide open.
The Resolution shook violently as an Energy beam struck the ventral hull. “Where did that come from," Parker called out
"Dreadnought. Relative bearing two-twenty-five, mark one.
Another newcomer, Parker thought. The first three ships that had arrived shortly after them, had been destroyed almost twenty minutes before. This dreadnought was the fifth new arrival since then. “Evasive maneuvers, prepare aft missiles."
A moment later, Lane replied, "Aft missiles ready."
"Fire!"
Missiles streaked from the port and starboard launchers into the dreadnought, exploding against the hull.
"Minimal damage," Sato reported. The ship rattled violently again, as another beam struck near the bow. "Hull breach on D deck."
"Hard to port, prime port broadside cannons. Fire when ready," Parker ordered. The ship turned and the broadside cannons fired. To Parker's surprise, the dreadnought exploded in a blinding antimatter detonation. "We didn’t do that. Did we?"
An oblong silhouette suddenly flew in front of the system’s star, from behind the disintegrating dreadnought, filling Parker with a rush of relief. "The Grayback’s hailing us," Sato said with a smile.
"Put them through. Captain Baran, we thought we lost you."
"Not a chance," Baran replied. "By the way, I believe I have something that belongs to you."
"Lieutenant Cole’s transponder just turned on," Anatoli reported.
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