Flight of the Reaper

by J. N. Chaney

  "On the contrary," X-37 said. "I am making only one assumption. The Archangels will listen to the LAIs native to their Archangel armor. Once I’ve hacked in, I will send them on a wild chase."

  I grinned. "That sounds like a good plan, X. Almost like I came up with it myself.”

  I knew something was wrong the moment I woke up. With the lights off, I slipped out of bed and moved, scanning the small cabin with my cybernetic eye. X-37 didn’t bother to tell me this was paranoid. We were on the same page.

  A Reaper could never be too careful.

  "You biometrics are optimal but slightly elevated," X-37 advised. "You slept for four hours."

  "Really?" I asked. "Doesn’t feel like it. I didn’t dream."

  "It is more likely that you do not remember your dreams because you didn’t regain consciousness during REM state," X-37 said. "I took the liberty of checking all ship security cameras the moment your heart rate suggested you were worried about something unseen."

  "Nice one, X." I dressed and geared up quickly. "Did you find anything?"

  "Brion Rejon is attempting to steal one of the recently acquired shuttles," X-37 said.

  "Any theories on what he thinks he’s doing?" I headed out the door, already following an icon X-37 had placed in my HUD.

  "Jelly says he has logged several requests to leave the ship," X-37 explained. "He wishes to go to the planet, an action Jelly and I both find suspicious."

  "Yeah, me too. That place is a wasteland," I said. "He claims there are ships dry-docked on the surface and underground shelters, but I saw what the planet looks like. Anyone living there has got to be completely mental. How many times can they fire that weapon before their little bunkers become death traps?"

  "Unknown," X-37 said. "Insufficient data."

  I headed for the bridge, thoughts clear, body rested and a firm conviction in my mind. Nebs was the problem.

  It was time to solve the problem.

  "Have you been able to take control of the Archangel LAIs?" I asked.

  "The last contact we had with Union ships allowed me to establish a proxy persona within the server they share," X-37 said. "Not to brag, but that has never been done before."

  "Nice. How’d you manage that?" I asked.

  "I am the template for the Archangel LAI network," X-37 said.

  "Congrats, X. You’re a daddy, or maybe a grandpa," I said.

  "Insincerity detected," X-37 said.

  "Oh no, X, I mean it. You’ve been immortalized by the Union," I said. "Now let’s use that to kill these asshats."

  "I said I have established a presence in their network. That is not the same thing as taking control," X-37 said.

  "If you take control, then we win automatically." I said.

  "I intend to summon them to the Archangel armory for an emergency refit, then lock them inside while convincing them you surrendered and they can stand down from their mission," X-37 said.

  I snorted in disbelief. "They’re never going to believe that. I’m not a quitter."

  "You do have a reputation of being stubborn," X-37 agreed.

  "I’m determined, there is a difference," I insisted. "Sometimes, X, you try to hurt my feelings on purpose."

  "That is your problem, not mine. I am not responsible for your feelings," X-37 said. “Only your wellbeing.”

  Unwilling to continue the argument, I entered the bridge and relieved Tom.

  "Get some sleep. You have earned it," I said.

  "Thanks, Hal. I was starting to hallucinate I’m so tired," Tom said.

  Elise arrived a moment later, logging in to her workstation without a word. I watched her for a bit.

  "Good morning, sunshine," I said.

  "I contacted Novasdaughter," she said, ignoring my greeting. "The Nightmare nearly went completely offline, but she has it under control. She says not to expect help against the Dark Lance. Her crew is trading with scavengers for parts. I’m not certain, but she sounds disgusted at the out of date parts she has been forced to use."

  "Okay," I said. "That just reinforces my argument. We need to take this fight to Nebs, right to him, like me throat punching him."

  "I recommend you utilize your arm blade rather than punch him," X-37 said, his tone reasonable and business-like.

  "Right. Blade to the throat. Why didn’t I think of that," I said. "Or maybe I just shoot him."

  "You could push him out an airlock," Elise suggested.

  "Or shoot him into the void as was done previously,” Jelly said.

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah—those are all fantastic suggestions. I’ll know what to do when the time comes. All I need is to get close enough to do what a Reaper does."

  That shut everyone up.

  "Contact with the vice admiral is premature, Reaper Cain," X-37 insisted.

  "There will never be a perfect time," I said. "Jelly, set a course for the UFS Dark Lance and give me an update on her status."

  "Right away, Captain," Jelly said.

  19

  "The UFS Dark Lance has made significant repairs and no longer seems to be disabled." Jelly updated me as frequently as possible, which I appreciated.

  "Where the hell is Rejon?" Elise asked. "He should be here telling us how long his people’s super weapon will affect Nebs’ ship."

  "He escaped in a shuttle and headed for the planet," I said. "As their leader, he acts like he’s obligated to go down there and die with them. Weird, I know."

  "What?" Elise looked alarmed.

  "Shit happens," I said. "It was a matter of time before he bolted. I know the type. Jelly, have we been detected?"

  "Not at this time, Captain," Jelly said.

  "You just let him leave." Elise stared at me like I was an irresponsible asshole. "He claimed to be their leader. That doesn’t mean he is their leader."

  "He wasn’t our prisoner," I told her. "Is that what you want, to start treating everyone we meet as enemies or prisoners?"

  "Most of them are," she shot back.

  "Statistically, she is correct," X-37 said.

  "Screw statistics," I said, then listed all of the people who had joined us since Dreadmax: Tom, Path, Henshaw, Locke and his people…"

  "We get it," Elise said. "I just thought you would be on top of this type of thing. Rejon has information we need, and for all we know, he’s warming up that ship stunner to use on us."

  "That is a possibility," X-37 admitted. "Shall I make a note of your oversight, Reaper Cain?"

  "No," I said. "I mean, it wasn’t an oversight. Let’s just move forward. Nebs is the enemy, remember. Jelly, what else can you tell us?"

  There was one person on the bridge I wasn’t used to—Bug. He sat at a terminal, watching everyone and everything with silent intensity. I was tempted to bring him into the conversation, but something warned me to leave him be. He talked tough, ran his mouth like a street thug when confronted, but it was clear he was way outside of his comfort zone. The boy had grown up in a surveillance tower with little or no parenting.

  “X, keep an eye on Bug,” I said quietly.

  “Of course, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “He has been playing with all surveillance systems accessible from the bridge without questions, comments, or opinions. The only other thing he has done since boarding the Jellybird is search the galley for cheese crackers.”

  “Okay, good. Give me the lowdown on what Nebs has left,” I said.

  "There are several active patrols of micro-fighters. Many of the craft that were orphaned when we took the Nightmare and after the destruction of the Black Wing have been recovered by the Dark Lance. There isn’t room for all of them to land onto the surface of the carrier, so they are maintaining constant patrols with well-coordinated refueling operations. I assume their pilots eventually get to sleep," Jelly said.

  "Novasdaughter told me that it isn’t uncommon for pilots to be ordered to sleep in their micro-fighters," Elise said. "She said it can be relaxing."

  I pulled a face. "No thanks. The micro-fighter I
flew was about as comfortable as handcuffs and leg restraints after getting beat down by angry prison guards."

  "Uh, okay," Elise said. "No one but you has had that unfortunate experience. My point is, I can believe they are keeping those tiny fighters on patrol for days at a time."

  "Jelly, take us past their patrols," I said. "Give me your best Union evasion tricks. The sooner I get to Nebs, the better chance we all have for survival."

  "Yes, Captain," Jelly said, then altered course to weave closer to Nebs’s new flagship.

  "How many times have you lectured me about rushing to failure?" X-37 asked privately.

  I put a hand on my forehead and massaged my temples, a behavior I sometimes adopted to cue my friends I was having a private discussion with my LAI.

  "I don’t lecture, X. I just point out your mistakes," I said.

  "Would you like an accounting of how many times I was wrong versus how many times you were wrong?" X-37 asked.

  "No." Why would I need that kind of abuse? Being a Reaper didn’t pay enough for this kind of harassment. "Let’s call it even."

  "My records indicate that we are nowhere near even," X-37 said.

  "Hey, Jelly, can I get an update on our position?" I asked, even though I knew exactly where we were and how far we needed to go.

  "Certainly, Captain," Jelly said. "I was just about to recommend battle stations and advise you of enemies approaching."

  "Can they see us?" I had my fingers crossed.

  "Not exactly," Jelly clarified. "Nebs’s fighters have refined a method for searching a three-dimensional grid. One of the squadrons will have us boxed in, after a fashion, even if they don’t know they’ve caught us.

  I prepared to take the controls again. Sweat ran down my back and made my palms soft with perspiration. This was going to get ugly. All the people I considered friends were probably going to die and it would be my fault.

  For several seconds, I considered reversing my decision. It didn’t take long to understand there really wasn’t any place to go. I couldn’t see a solution to our problems that didn’t involve eliminating Nebs. The only way that would work was if I did it.

  Face to face. With my arm blade. Or whatever was lying around that might provide sufficient trauma to end his life.

  An alarm sounded.

  "We’ve been detected," Jelly warned.

  "Call Tom back to the deck. Locke, get your people ready to repel boarders… or maybe abandon ship. Elise, you’re on weapons with Tom when he gets here."

  "Right away, Captain," Jelly responded.

  Elise didn’t bother responding. She merely flipped over her control station, activated weapons, and started shooting the first micro-fighters to arrive. "This won’t be enough. There are too many of them."

  "When Tom gets here, tell him to take over then get back in that micro-fighter you love so much," I ordered.

  "Hell yeah." Her face lit up at the prospect.

  I wanted to share her enthusiasm but understood what our odds were against trained Union pilots. If they were half as good as Amii Novasdaughter, we would have problems.

  "Reaper Cain, I have begun analyzing the capabilities of the experimental micro-fighters you and Elise will be flying," X-37 said as I ran to the landing bay.

  The Union fighters were meant to be launched from the exterior of a stealth carrier with small explosive charges. Nudging them out of the Jellybird’s hold wasn’t going to have the same effect and I was convinced it would put us at a disadvantage. I told X my thoughts.

  "Then why do it, Reaper Cain?" X-37 asked.

  "Because I’m using every resource to win," I said. "More guns in the fight."

  "Even if you die, Reaper Cain?"

  I hesitated, knowing this involved my LAI in a way we’d never discussed. When I died, X died. Would he try to stop me from diving into a truly hopeless situation?

  "No one gets a guarantee. People die. There’s no reason I have more right to live than anyone else in this battle." I climbed into the micro-fighter.

  "Who has a right to live and who doesn’t is irrelevant," X-37 said.

  "I don’t disagree with you." I flipped switches and checked the power displays one after another. "I’m just saying anything could happen and I don’t have time to worry about it."

  "Ah, gallows courage," X-37 said.

  I shook my head. "I plan on surviving. I also know that thinking too much about dying gets people killed.".

  The engines whined. Lights flashed, indicating the weapons of the experimental micro-fighter were ready.

  "So does being reckless and making poor decisions," X-37 continued.

  "X, can you tell me why no one bothered to take one of these fighters during the ship evacuation?" I asked.

  "There are two reasons I was able to find while snooping through the Black Wing’s systems," X-37 replied. "One: access to the area was restricted. No one could have entered the area until well after the ship was coming apart."

  "And the second reason?" The ship was ready, so I tapped a thruster and slid free of the Jellybird, unable to see where Elise had gone.

  "Several of the test pilots died from the raw acceleration of this vessel. I recommend you pretend like it doesn’t have the third thruster switch. It will only get you in trouble," X-37 cautioned.

  "Or dead," I added.

  "Or that," X-37 said. "I was attempting to be polite."

  "A little help would be nice, Reaper," Elise broke in, slightly out of breath. Probably because she was grunting the words through clenched teeth while making a hard corner. "Yeeeeeeeeeee!"

  "Elise has put her micro-fighter into a quintuple spin and roll out," X-37 observed.

  "Yeah, I saw that," I muttered. “Hey, kid, take it easy on the acceleration or you’re going to crush your insides.”

  A swarm of Union micro-fighters raced after her. I nudged my little death ship into their wake and opened fire, destroying two and damaging two others before they had time to react.

  "This isn’t so hard," I said. "Elise, don’t use the third thruster switch. It will turn your brain to mush."

  "Like yours." She laughed. "Thanks for the save, wingman."

  "Not your wingman," I said.

  "Are."

  "Am not."

  "You’re totally my wingman," she said. "Watch your six."

  "Damn!" I jammed the controls as hard as I could to one side, trying to remember everything I could about my Reaper flight training. It had been extensive but it never intended to prepare me for a fight against the best the Union had to offer.

  "You will pass out in nine seconds," X-37 said.

  "If I had a credit for every… time… I heard that"—I pulled out of my evasive maneuvers, secretly hoping Elise had killed the jackwagons after me—"I could retire."

  "That is a completely irrelevant goal in your situation," X-37 said. "Now could you flip this ship over and shoot at your pursuers?"

  I did as X suggested, banging my head, even though I was wearing a helmet and the helmet was tethered to the flight seat. When I opened fire, my vision was blurry from rapid changes in my blood pressure despite my pressurized flight suit. Or maybe it was from being hit on the head. Or going into nicotine withdrawal. Or what the fuck ever.

  The main thing was that I wasn’t the kid’s wingman. We couldn’t even see each other, much less fly in formation. This was less of a dog fight and more of a violent space brawl at speeds I could barely comprehend.

  Small, deadly projectiles streamed from my guns, slicing one ship to pieces. I veered away and was pursued by two ships this time.

  "X, I know this thing has freakishly dangerous acceleration, but is there another reason it is experimental—something that might have gotten some of those test pilots killed?" I asked.

  "Why do you ask, Reaper Cain? Is it that flashing button you’re dying to push?" X-37 asked.

  I swerved right, then left, then went straight down before leveling out to check for pursuers. The ship demanded I ackno
wledge an error caused by my cybernetics, which I handled without thinking, then answered X. "Yeah, X. I really want to push it.”

  "That particular button illuminates when the plasma burst is ready," X-37 said.

  "There’s no way a ship this small has an energy weapon like that," I said, firing the standard guns and missing.

  Elise and two pursuers streaked in front of me.

  "Not your wingman!" I shouted.

  "It is unlikely her comms picked up that rather spontaneous transmission," X-37 pointed out—like I cared.

  Elsewhere, the Jellybird was taking a beating from small ships and the UFS Dark Lance. We needed to finish this fight now.

  "Tell me what I need to know about the alleged plasma weapon," I said, assuming it was something that had the appearance of a plasma device but was really just a hyped-up battery with one or two charges.

  "I am only reading the manual," X-37 said, “for the one hundred and thirty-fifth time. Benefits of being an advanced cluster of algorithms. There is some fine print indicating the plasma gun, or PG as they call it, has a limited number of charges. Suspicious."

  "That’s kind of what I thought," I said, then aimed and jammed my finger on the button.

  Light burned all around me. I couldn’t tell if the weapon worked or if it had fired in the direction I had the ship pointed. Heat warnings flashed on every system I could monitor from inside the cockpit. Alarms blurred in my helmet. It sounded like someone was laughing at me.

  Only extreme force of will kept me from passing out or pissing my pants.

  "Good work, Reaper Cain," X-37 said. "You badly singed one enemy micro-fighter."

  "That’s all!"

  "You are also the first to survive using the weapon in combat conditions. All of the others panicked and ejected," X-37 said.

  "I didn’t know that was an option!" X didn’t seem to be listening, so I added a few of my favorite swear words.

  "Other micro-fighters are avoiding you," X-37 said. "I recommend making a run at the Dark Lance and using the weapon one more time."

  Thoughts of dubiously experimental weapons and our recent conversation about dying filled the moments it took me to change course. "Check on the Jellybird."