Aboard The Little Empress
Joel moved the stick forward to take The Little Empress further in. “How are you doing getting a lock on something useful there?” he asked, not taking his eyes from the console.
Jack hesitated. “I’m… Okay. I’ve got something. Looks like a cluster of buildings surrounded by weaponry. It’s probably - ”
At that moment, the computer picked up some anti-aircraft radiation signatures.
“Scratch that. It’s definitely hot. Locked on, firing.”
Two seconds later, missiles left the armaments on the sides of The Little Empress, and navigated their way down to the surface.
Joel pulled the stick to the right, banking the ship on its approach. Jack flicked a second switch on her joystick and deployed the decoys to draw fire, just as Sean had taught her on her first outing in The Little Empress.
“How are we doing?” Joel asked.
Jack paused before responding. “They’re taking to the decoys. We’re okay,” she confirmed.
Suddenly, there was a loud, deep bang. The ship vibrated through the hull from the shock. Joel felt their trajectory being altered and felt the resistance on the stick, even despite the minimal atmosphere they were encountering.
“What the - ” he started.
Chom-X9, War Room
Shaa was marveling at the destruction unfolding on the holoscreen. In a matter of moments, the puny ship that was taking fire from his superior armaments would disappear from the screen completely.
There was a beep at the door, pulling Shaa’s attention from the screen. His guests, however, seemed somewhat relieved at the interruption.
“Come,” he called. The door slid open, mechanically whirring on its heavy iron innards. One of Shaa’s soldiers appeared and stepped purposefully into the room. Without further invitation, he made his way straight to his master.
Shaa didn’t look at the Zhyn; he regarded him merely as part of the functioning of his operation, like a butler in a house where the staff moves unseen and unacknowledged until their message becomes relevant.
The man whispered in Shaa’s ear, and then took a pace back, awaiting a decision.
Shaa raised his eyes from the screen, contemplating the new information. A second later, he rose from his seat and addressed the assembled delegates.
“Gentlemen, it seems we have a second craft appearing on the other side of our little planet.”
As if on cue, the ship appeared on their live feed. Shaa continued. “At this point, I know you would normally like to join the fight, but, all things considered, it would be prudent for you to leave now.”
There was muttering and a flurry of subdued motion amongst the people around the table.
Shaa continued to relay his instructions without pausing. “Sergeant, have our guests escorted to their ships so they can get away from here. Gentlemen, get a safe distance away as quickly as you can. It is best you are not caught here, or known to have been here. Tell no one of our discussions or what you have seen here today. I will be in touch.”
The guests around the table found their way to their feet and then to the door, looking back only to ensure that their escort was following them. A mix of fear and confusion mulled around them as they ushered each other along the corridor. The sergeant clicked his heels and saluted Shaa before attending to his gaggle of charges.
Shaa nodded his dismissal and then turned his attention back to the screen. Once the doors to the conference room closed, he hit his holo, connecting him to the control room. “Report!” he demanded.
Aboard The Empress
“Sit rep?” Molly prompted from her console in the cockpit.
Crash checked the visual, and then the console. “We’re okay. We’re about five thousand kilometers out; within target range, and probably as close as we can get without materializing into the planet.”
Molly nodded. “Okay. Engage as soon as we get a lock on.”
A moment later, two missiles left the bottom of the ship and streamed their way to the surface of the moon.
Molly watched, trying to see if there was any discernible difference in the visual. “Did we get the target?”
Pieter shook his head. “It hit, but there are three other anti-aircraft weapons locked onto us. He must have distributed them all over the surface. We need to get closer to see what’s happening.”
The visual showing the other side of the planet suddenly lit up.
Molly’s forehead tensed in anxiety. “Emma, whose lights are those? Is that The Little Empress firing?”
Emma’s voice came through on the cockpit intercom. “The Little Empress is firing, but those aren’t her missiles. Those are coming from the surface.”
Molly felt her stomach lurch. “How are her shields doing?”
Emma reported. “She’s been compromised. Shields at fifty percent.”
Molly was on her feet, her hands gripping the console on the arm of the chair. “Shit. Tell them to abort. Get them out to five kilometers. We’ll pick them up.”
Crash looked instantly nervous. “There’s no way we can gate in that close to them; not without risking colliding with them. Or worse.”
Molly had visions of the Tardis landing around them - or the Tardis landing within the ship - and realized that she really should only concern herself with reality in these moments of high stakes. She shook the thought from her head.
“What other options do we have?” she pressed.
“We could warp over there,” Crash suggested.
Molly shook her head. “We’ll be drawing even more fire.” She paused. “Oz, ideas?”
The optimum solution is for Emma to pull them out to a safe distance while we gate to a safe distance from them, further out of Shaa’s range. Then we can travel in to collect them the same way we we did the drop-off.
Molly nodded, not entirely satisfied, but ready to make a move. “Okay. Let’s do that. Crash, make the jump the second we’ve set the course.”
Crash nodded. “Acknowledged,” he said, setting up the coordinates.
Aboard The Little Empress
There was another bang, and this time the ship was knocked upward. The planet below disappeared from view as they tipped backwards into space.
Jack poked at her console. “We’ve been hit. I don’t know what happened.” She replayed the camera from beneath the ship. “Looks like their missiles split when they reach a certain height. We’ve been hit by two of them.”
Joel tried to retrieve control of the ship. “Emma, if you’re there, a little help would be great.”
“Joel, I’m here. Molly’s orders are to retreat. I can get you stabilized, just hang tight. This is going to take a few minutes. The ship will continue to rotate for a while longer; I hope you don’t get spacesick…”
Joel glanced over at Jack. Jack shook her head and smiled nervously. “We’ll be okay. Thanks, Emma. Glad you’ve got us.”
The next several minutes were the longest minutes of Jack’s life. Despite knowing Emma was working to get them stabilized, they had little bearing on which direction the surface missiles were coming from. That meant they had a smaller chance of being able to counter them, let alone get out of the way.
Jack continued to focus on the task, though. “I’m laying down decoys to see if we can avoid taking another hit. Shields are at forty three percent,” she reported.
Joel continued working furiously to find a way to help them regain control, simultaneously racking his brain as to what he could do once Emma got them out of the spin.
Chom-X9, Control room
Shaa stormed into the control room. Glancing at the hangar deck monitor as he entered, he noticed the group of his would-be associates making their way hurriedly to their various spacecraft. Unless more combatants showed up, they would likely get away without drawing any attention; particularly if they followed the emergency flight path his team had already figured out for such a purpose.<
br />
Shaa’s attention moved to the main screen showing the two ships attacking from different directions. “Fools,” he grunted out loud. “They think they can waltz into battle with me and win? Who do they think they’re fighting against? Some half-baked cocksucker?”
There was a titter of activity and agreement amongst the personnel manning the control room. Six defected Zhyns worked furiously to coordinate their defenses around their 500-km-radius rogue moon.
“Your Highness,” one of them announced. “We’re receiving reports that some of our anti-spacecraft weapons have been destroyed.”
Shaa felt the frustration rising in his chest. “Onscreen!” he commanded.
The secondary holoscreen lit up, displaying visuals of one of the anti-space gun towers, half destroyed and billowing black smoke. A moment later, it flicked to give a different angle showing a small fire. Then it switched showing a different tower in another location, this time surrounded by thorny vegetation.
“Switch to firing from the poles,” Shaa commanded. “Something tells me they would rather withdraw than risk their own deaths.”
The Zhyn responsible nodded and then relayed the order to the operations deck.
Aboard The Empress Actual
“Gate complete,” Crash announced, immediately pushing the ship forward in the direction of The Little Empress.
Emma’s voice interceded. “I’ll have them stabilized from their rotation in another thirty seconds. I’ll plot a course to pull them around. Better them maneuver around you this time, despite the risk to their shields.”
Molly frowned and stood up, looking over the consoles that Brock and Crash were working on. “Anything we can do to protect them from here?”
Brock raised his hand. “Yes! Maybe…” He poked at the console some more, and then suddenly fist pumped the air. “We can extend our shields to include them. It will take a lot more power, and we’ll have to drop them to bring them up at a different distance, meaning we’ll be-”
“Do it,” Molly ordered without hesitation or needing to hear any more.
Brock busied himself with the task as they drew closer.
A rally of missiles suddenly launched from the planet, heading straight for The Empress and The Little Empress.
Molly’s mouth dropped open. “Holy mother of fuck…”
Chapter 8
Ansan Settlement, Northern Province, Teshov
The whole hut had been searched, top-to-bottom and then bottom-to-top. There was one more place Sean hadn’t looked, and he disappeared from Giles’s awareness. He came back several minutes later.
“Not on the body, either,” he reported.
There was movement outside the window. “We’re going to have to move,” he told Giles. “We’re not safe here.”
Giles was displaying signs of shock: pale complexion, catatonia. Sean marched over to him.
“Don’t make me bitch-slap you, soldier. We have to move. NOW!” he barked.
Giles came back to his senses as if woken from a dream. He rubbed his face with one hand and scrambled to his feet. Sean helped him up, glad that he wasn’t actually going to have to slap some sense into him and then explain a shiner to the others when they got back to base.
The two started for the door.
Giles finally noticed the blood that had splattered all over the walls, just inside the hut. He shook his head and stopped. Sean had his blaster in-hand, ready to open the door for them to make their move. He glanced back at Giles. “Ready?” he asked.
Giles shook his head. “No.” He paused, scratching behind his ear. “There’s… there’s somewhere else we can try before we go back to the ship.”
Sean glanced nervously at the door, straining to hear if there was anyone on the other side. “We’re going to be drawing some heat, you realize that?”
Giles took a step back, and then turned deeper into the hut. “There’s another way out. We need to go in this direction, anyway,” he called back.
Sean followed him through the little hut to another door that they had missed when they conducted their search. Giles opened it, carefully checking out of the window, and then stood back to let Sean conduct a proper visual and lead the way.
Sean stepped out first. The area behind the hut was quite different; like a back alley, without an alley actually having been constructed. There were the backs of a few other huts, and an area for various forms of waste. It smelled. Really bad.
Sean ventured further out, sweeping his blaster from side to side as he checked points of potential ambush. Seconds later, he beckoned for Giles to follow. Giles stepped gingerly out, and then pointed in the direction they needed to go, out across more sand.
It took them several minutes to clear the huts, and then several more to get out across the sand dunes and drop down onto a cliff face. Despite the drop below them, the rockiness of the cliff was actually a welcome change from the soft, unstable sand under foot.
Giles led the way now, moving agilely across the rock, wending his way down and around the natural crater on the edge of the desert. Occasionally, they would come across signs of life: a vine that had wrapped itself around a rock in the shade, or a tiny scorpion that scuttled away at their movement.
Sean looked up at the sky, remembering his time out here in the past. “Hasn’t changed. Still just as oppressive as ever,” he grumbled.
Giles kept moving, seeming to enjoy the activity, now that they were away from the threat of the locals. “I dunno. I think it’s beautiful, in a morbid kind of way. And when it’s not so hot, it’s almost charming…”
Sean didn’t have the energy to argue. He pressed on, focused on the mission. “Where exactly are we going?” he asked.
Giles glanced back, and then ahead. “Just a little further around this cliff face. There’s a cave; Robin would use it to hide his stash. Weapons. Chemicals. Delicate toys or contraband. It’s sheltered from the heat and any prying eyes; or satellites, if any authority came a-calling.”
Sean frowned as he navigated his way over a protruding rock. “You mean you knew he was bent?”
Giles shrugged. “I guess. Yes. But I wasn’t here to arrest people. I was here to study them.”
Sean’s features furrowed. “So you were studying our criminals?”
Giles talked as he clambered along the rock, careful each time he placed his foot. “More like the social dynamics between them and the other groups here on the planet. You see, all these groups are intricately entwined. When you come away from the judgment, you can see that they make up a delicately balanced ecosystem - socially, spiritually, and, indeed, economically.”
Sean wasn’t exactly following the socio-babble, but he spotted the cave entrance just up head. “This it?” he called forward to Giles.
“If memory serves,” Giles called back, reaching for a rock in front of him to balance himself. Sean was aware of a sudden movement from Giles’s direction, and looked up just in time to see him lose his footing and disappear out of sight.
There was a flurry of rock and sand as Giles dropped. Sean’s heart jumped into his mouth as he rushed forward, realizing that Giles was hanging onto a vine that had been protruding from the cliff.
Giles let out a shout, scrambling for something else to hold onto. He kicked at the rocks to try and get a foothold, anything, to try and take some weight off the vine which was already ripping away from its roots in the rock.
Sean scrambled forward, anchored himself against the rock, and reached down to offer the dangling scientist his hand.
Giles looked up with panic in his eyes, blinded by the dust and sand. Sean grabbed at his arm and steadied him, keeping him from bouncing against the cliff. Giles found a completely inadequate foothold, but enough to give him contact with the cliff face.
“It’s okay, mate. I’ve got you. You’re not getting out of this adventure that easily.” Sean’s face showed the strain his body was under, holding them on the tiny
track and preventing Giles from falling to his death.
Giles noticed in that moment of extended time how in his element the marine was, now that there was a physical threat to deal with. He found himself envying the calm. Envying the tolerance for pressure. Envying the life that seemed to spark inside of Sean as soon as there was trouble.
Addict, Giles realized.
The man is a danger addict. And that is what makes him such an asset to the General.
It all became so clear.
Giles watched everything in slow motion as Sean talked to him, giving him instructions to find a better foothold; to release the vine and grab onto the rock; to transfer his weight onto Sean’s grip and make the transition upwards. Sean was calm and clinical. Exacting. Like he was merely teaching a child to rock climb.
“That’s it, mate. One last push, and you want to haul yourself up and over onto the track, such as it is. See if you can use that white rock there to pull your leg over. Hook it first, and then pull; careful about straining, though. Just turn your hip over. You got it?”
Giles grunted and then swung his leg up as instructed. He turned his hip, noticing that, had he not, he wouldn’t have had the strength in his inner thigh to make the maneuver to safety. He marveled at Sean’s insight… almost as if he was just observing himself being in mortal danger.
A row of rocks represented some semblance of a path they were following, and Giles lay facedown against them. He was breathing heavily, regaining his strength… and his balls, which he was sure had dropped down the cliff face when he initially slipped.
He could hear Sean recovering his breath, as well. He turned his head and looked up, his body flooding with gratitude. Sean was wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sandy atmosuit. Sean shook out the arm that he’d used to pull Giles up.
Giles grinned. “Thanks, man,” he panted.
Sean chuckled a little. “Anytime, mate.” He paused and looked out across the crater, and then back in the direction of the cave. “You think you can make it the rest of the way?” he asked.
The Ascension Myth Box Set Page 118