Flight of the Reaper

by J. N. Chaney

  "Think positive, X. She’s a fixer-upper," I said, pushing my way through a crowd.

  "You there," said a ship security supervisor. "This is a one-way passage. Stand to one side and await contact. My men will come to you."

  "Nope," I said, and took another hallway.

  "You will be discovered if you attempt to board a life pod," X-37 said.

  A pipe ruptured in the ceiling, spraying chemicals downward. I avoided the unknown hazard by backtracking and taking a hallway through an unexplored part of the ship. "Find Elise and Path. Hack into the ship’s security if you have to."

  "Please, Reaper Cain. You know I have already done that. Monitoring security comms is the first thing I do during a mission like this one," X-37 said.

  "Then tell me if they caught her."

  "They have not, but they have several unflattering names for her and Path," X-37 informed.

  "Establish comms with Elise and or Path. I know how hard that is right now, but I need you to do it,” I ordered, pausing near the edge of a crowd at a nervous standstill. A sergeant was untangling the bottleneck as quickly as possible. The crew persons of the Black Wing were admirably calm, not happy, but not fighting amongst themselves either.

  "I have attempted this many times," X-37 said. "It is not easy while on an enemy ship during battle stations."

  "Keep trying," I demanded.

  "I will, of course," X-37 responded.

  Carefully pushing my way through the crowd of Union soldiers and crew persons, I continued to talk to X. "Try harder."

  "Now you are being childish and, frankly, quite offensive," X-37 said. “I have made forty-two attempts to hack into their comms since we began that situation.”

  “We were just arguing with an Archangel on their channel,” I said.

  “Yes, Reaper Cain, the man who shot you in the ass initiated that conversation,” X-37 said. “Which makes communication much simpler.”

  "Whatever, X," I said, then stopped near a hallway that had become a battlefield triage area. "We’re not going to reach the bridge and this ship is already doomed. What is the chance Elise and Path have come to the same decision?"

  "Nearly one hundred percent," X-37 said. "What she will do about it is the real question. My analysis shows all options essentially equal."

  "Let’s move toward the nearest docking bay not in use," I said. "Like the way we came in but less well defended. She’ll try to hail the Jellybird."

  "What is the basis of your analysis," X-37 asked.

  "That’s what I would do," I answered. "There’s no way we’re going to find a shuttle or ship or escape pod to steal while the Union is abandoning ship."

  "That logic is sketchy," X-37 argued.

  "I love it when you use big words, X," I said. A modified map appeared on my HUD with gold stars marking several locations.

  "I’ve marked the last known location of Archangels," X-37 said.

  "Great. That’s actually pretty damned useful." I advanced through one hallway after another with my HDK at the low ready position.

  "X-37 for Elise, is that you? You must be close for this comm link to work—it’s the next thing to line of sight and completely unmonitored by ship security."

  "X! I knew you weren’t dead!" she answered. "We’ve secured a launch bay, landing pad combo where the ships are already gone. Haven’t seen the golden boys for a while."

  "We’re moving to your position. Is Path with you?" I asked.

  "He is and he believes the Archangels are gone, probably headed to kiss Nebs’s ass," Elise said. “My words, not his.”

  "I believe they will be compelled to protect the vice admiral," Path said. "There could also be ass kissing, I guess."

  Before I could answer, X-37 sounded an alarm in my ear while also sending a haptic vibration through my hand. It was the most forceful warning my LAI could use—that he had never used. Once, in training, he’d scared the hell out of me, but that was it.

  "Reaper Cain, a salvo of rockets has been fired through a gap in the shields at this location. Relocate immediately," X-37 warned.

  Elise and Path came around the corner at a run, weapons ready and eyes searching for danger.

  “Let’s go!” I shouted, grabbing them each by an arm for emphasis and shoving them toward the exit.

  "What the hell?" Elise shouted. “Are you limping? Did you get shot in the leg?”

  “No comment,” I replied.

  “The aforementioned rockets will strike the ship in three seconds,” X-37 interrupted.

  "Incoming," I called.

  Explosions tore apart the space behind us, flinging all three of us forward. The overpressure from the resulting explosions flung us down the hallway with deadly force. Fear ripped through my gut. The bulkhead at the end of the hallway looked solid.

  None of us had time to shout or curse. All my senses—natural and augmented—overloaded as I attempted to slow my forward progress by grabbing things and rolling.

  The ship seemed to shake forever, and when I looked back, there was nothing but tangled metal and the void beyond. The ethereal flashes of void weapons—kinetic projectiles with non-atmospheric fluorescent tracers, flaring rocket boosters, and short lived explosions—was beautiful.

  I stared at the chaos for several seconds, stunned and wondering if this wasn’t as good a place to die as any.

  Path’s EVA helmet appeared above me. He was squatting down, both hands on his knees. "Reaper, you are alive, so you must continue."

  "Fucking-A-right," I said.

  "That is an interesting mantra. Perhaps I shall adopt it," he said.

  Elise was on her feet, one hand holding down a door button. "Come on, Reaper!"

  "It’s good to have friends," I muttered to X-37.

  "They do seem to motivate you," X-37 agreed.

  We swept through one crooked, damaged hallway after another. Twice we came to areas that were open to the void.

  "X, what is the chance this ship can be salvaged?" I asked.

  "One hundred percent, with sufficient determination and the proper equipment," X-37 said. "But only in very small pieces. I am searching for any remaining conveyance that might assist your rather slim chance of surviving this ordeal."

  "You’re the best, X. I don’t say it enough," I said.

  Elise and Path laughed, which made me feel pretty good. Path wasn’t big on laughing, but when he did, the sound was like music. Elise had a hundred different laughs, but this one suggested she believed deep down that I was going to get us out of this.

  I loved my friends. It felt so good, I almost sat down and cried.

  "Please continue on the route I have updated in your HUD. The gaps in the course are where pieces of the ship are missing. Please don’t fall into the void. There is no one to recover you," X-37 advised, even calmer than Path on a good day.

  "Are you going to tell us what’s at the end of this little quest?" I asked.

  "A box of Starbrand cigars with a functioning lighter and a bottle of whiskey. Also a pizza for Elise and tea for Path," X-37 said.

  "Did you just make a joke, X?" I paused before a section of floor that was missing and revealed the ruined level below us—wires twisting from walls like a creature from mythology.

  "I am merely trying to motivate you," X-37 said.

  "What is a pizza?" Elise asked.

  "My database says that all teenagers enjoy at least one variation of pizza, a food made from…" X-37 rambled on, trying to calm us as the ship came apart all around us.

  "Let’s jump across this," Elise suggested.

  "Sounds good. On three," I said. "One, two, three!"

  Our little trio wobbled across the gap, inconsistent gravity generators making me queasy. When we reached relative safety, we sprinted toward the next objective on my HUD.

  And found the treasure trove X-37 had promised: two pristine micro-fighters and a heavy-duty EVA unit.

  "How hard can it be?" Elise asked.

  "Spoken like a kid
,” I muttered.

  "Says the intergalactic murderer with zero experience parenting," Elise shot back. "The real question is who takes the EVA thing."

  "I will pilot the HD EVA," Path said. "Anything is better than staying here."

  The deck rippled as he spoke, nearly dislodging all three of us and causing one of the micro-fighters to break free of its mooring.

  "Why are these here instead of latched to the exterior?” I asked.

  "The ship manifest lists them as experimental," X-37 said.

  "Fucking great," I grumbled, approaching my new ride.

  Elise and Path climbed into the other micro-fighter and the HD EVA respectively, taking it slow despite the urgency of our situation. One thing we had learned during our misadventures was how not to rush to failure even when the walls were literally falling down around us.

  Godsdamn I was proud of my friends.

  I climbed into the micro-fighter and pulled down the canopy. As soon as it closed, the cockpit powered up and began a pre-flight check. I followed along and manually confirmed everything was ship-shape. The flight computer was snappy and quick, a preview of what it was going to be like to fly this thing.

  "How are you feeling, Elise?" I was pleased at how crisp our ship-to-ship communications sounded.

  "This is going to be fun," she replied, excitement resonating through her voice.

  I could picture her punching buttons and tugging her safety harness tighter.

  "Path, are you good?" I asked.

  "This unit is sturdy and has a reassuringly large supply of oxygen. I should be able to drift aimlessly in the void for days," Path said.

  "I guess that is a good thing," I said. "We will pick you up as soon as possible."

  "I’ve already contacted the Jellybird and provided this unit’s identification markers," Path advised.

  Static rippled through our comms as the Nightmare dealt a death blow to the Black Wing. I saw our stolen carrier passing above us, shifting into stealth mode as she left the battle. The sight was stunningly beautiful and ominous.

  "Let’s get the hell out of here and find the Jellybird," I said.

  "Right behind you," Elise said.

  Punching the launch button, I braced for neck-snapping acceleration and wasn’t disappointed. Without the safety harness and form fitting pilot seat, a ride in one of these tiny little death dealers would be fatal. The human body could only endure so much.

  Shooting away from the recent battle with Elise’s micro-fighter beside me felt like pure victory. Once we cleared the debris field, it was hard to get a sense of how fast we were moving, but X-37 reassured me it was fast as a motherfucker—my words, not X’s. My LAI was a gentleman.

  "How are you doing, kid?" I asked.

  "Could you please stop asking me that? It’s annoying. I’m not a kid," she said. "But since you did ask, I think I was born to fly one of these things. It’s like wearing a second skin. I can’t wait to tell Novasdaughter. Maybe she’ll give me some real lessons."

  I wasn’t loving the micro-fighter as much as Elise was. The little ship didn’t like my cybernetic arm. Every few minutes, the flight computer sent an error message that required me to manually confirm it was my prosthetic and agree to see a flight engineer to have the ship synced with my arm, eye, and “non-standard pilot-sized physique.”

  "How are you doing?” Elise asked.

  "My ship is telling me I’m a broken-down cyborg that doesn’t fit in the cockpit," I said.

  "You’ll get used to it," Elise replied, good humor in her voice. "The Jellybird is sending a location marker. I’ll lead the way in."

  "Works for me," I said. "Then we can pick up Path."

  Elise accelerated. I followed slightly to her left as my flight computer suggested. The longer I flew the thing, the more comfortable I became. All I had to do was ignore the warnings and safety alerts. In truth, I’d been doing that all of my life one way or another.

  "Congratulations on surviving the destruction of the Black Wing," X-37 commended. "If you switch to your aft view screen, you will see her coming apart."

  I tapped my pinky finger on a control and found myself viewing destruction like I never imagined. Death was commonplace in my line of work; I’d blown things up and ended lives in every way imaginable. But I’d never seen anything like the destruction of a Union warship.

  What caught me off guard was the perspective from our position. I’d thought we were farther away, but the expanding debris cloud was kilometers in diameter now, growing outward like a sun going supernova—the longer I watched, the slower the expansion seemed.

  "You are clear for final approach," Jelly said a short time later. "Would you like for me to await you on the bridge before starting for Path’s marker?"

  "No, Jelly. Go as soon as Elise and I are docked," I said. "Do we have comms with him?"

  The micro-fighter was so small, I wasn’t sure what it could or couldn’t do. I played with the controls, trying to get comfortable, attempting to accelerate my learning curve. There was a pretty freaking good chance I was going to get shot down in this thing.

  "We have Path on the tactical commlink," X-37 said.

  "Cain for Path," I said. "How copy?"

  "I can hear you, Reaper. Have you been watching the fireworks?" He almost sounded high with awe.

  "Yeah, it’s real nice. All things being equal, I’d rather be sitting on the observation deck of the Jellybird with a Wallach Presidential and a glass of whiskey."

  "That would be ideal, would it not?" Path said. "I assume you called to reassure me that you are on your way to retrieve me from the void."

  "Yep. Watch out for Union micro-fighters and random debris from the bombardment," I said. "And keep in mind we saw a squad of Archangels in EVA mode."

  A long pause followed.

  "Did we lose connection?" I asked X-37.

  "I’m here, Reaper. It took a moment for me to turn to see the comet. The view is stunning, but I am glad that particular danger is far from here," Path said.

  "Space is big as shit," I said, exhaling forcefully and realizing how the idea of Path dying made me feel. "Look after yourself, Path. I need someone to bonk Elise over the head with practice swords."

  "Of course, Reaper," he said. "You know where to find me."

  "Copy that," I said, then spoke to X-37 privately. "I love that guy, but there is something off with him. Who the hell gets left in the shadow of a disintegrating Union stealth carrier and stays that calm?"

  "He does seem to enjoy his solitude. Jelly has his location locked and will retrieve him after you are safe," X-37 said. "Prepare to land on the Jellybird, Reaper Cain. We located this ship in a storage bay, but it is designed to latch on to the outside of a ship. There could be a few minor issues when we land."

  "Just don’t get me killed," I told him.

  "Follow the telemetry I have projected on the ship’s primary view screen and you—and the ship—should survive the landing,” my LAI instructed.

  "Perfect, X. You’re the best.”

  "I detect neither sincerity nor sarcasm," X-37 said.

  "You pick." I laughed.

  "Lucky me."

  18

  There were hard decisions to be made once we were all aboard the Jellybird.

  "That had to prove I’m right," I argued.

  X-37 responded calmly, which was annoying as hell. "On the contrary, it was a demonstration of what will happen if you go up against the Archangels before my plan has been properly set in motion."

  "I hate arguing with you, X," I muttered.

  "It is good that we disagree," X-37 said. "Our discussions improve our chances for survivability by several percentage points. If I did not raise counter arguments to your far too human decision-making process, I would be less than useless as your LAI."

  "Yeah, sure. Having a limited AI yammering in my head is a sweet-ass solution to all my problems," I griped. "Jelly, give me an update on the Nightmare versus Black Wing damage."<
br />
  "I have made contact with Novasdaughter and Henshaw. It seems the Nightmare has sustained so much damage that Necron agreed to a temporary truce while they work on repairs. Eighty-nine percent of the original crew have agreed to put aside past allegiances to put the ship back in order—and not die," Jelly said.

  "Let me guess, the remaining eleven percent are the officers?" I asked.

  "A very small percentage of UFS Nightmare officers have switched sides, at least for now," Jelly said.

  "Why can’t those assholes see what kind of a maniac Nebs is?" Elise wondered aloud.

  Tom shrugged. "Union propaganda runs deep. And they are probably afraid of him.”

  "What’s wrong, Tom?" I asked.

  He lowered his eyes to the ground and shook his head. "I feel like I should be on the Nightmare helping with repairs."

  "The Nightmare is beyond our shuttle range at the moment," Jelly replied.

  "I know, Jelly," Tom said. "Thanks for checking."

  "May I make an observation?" X-37 asked.

  "Go ahead, X," I said.

  "None of you have slept for over twenty-four hours. This level of sleep deprivation is not sustainable," he replied.

  "I’m not tired," Elise said.

  "That’s because you’re a kid and kids don’t get tired," I said, expecting a profanity-dense response.

  "And now you’re a jerk again," she said. "Does the Reaper need a nap?”

  I hesitated, then relented. "Yeah, he does. Tom, you have the conn. Everyone sleeps in shifts while X-37 admits my plan to storm the Dark Lance is our only option."

  "Agreed," X-37 said. "Once I am certain we have dealt with Necron and drawn the Archangels into my trap."

  "Your trap is lame, X," I said.

  "On the contrary, it is perfect," X-37 said. "My analysis of the Archangels is that each of them is an extraordinarily proficient fighter, probably chosen personally by Vice Admiral Nebs. But therein lies their weakness."

  I frowned. "I don’t follow.”

  "They lack the imagination to question him, and will be easier to fool as a result," X-37 said.

  "Bullshit, X. You’re making too many assumptions about living, breathing, high level Union operators," I argued.