Weight of Gravity

by Sheron Wood McCartha

  “Left? What do you mean by left?” Richard gripped his console as a feeling of dread descended over him.

  “She just joined the fleet as captain of the Black Death. She said you changed your mind and agreed that she should go.”

  “Does that sound like me, Adrian?” Richard gritted his teeth.

  “Sure. You change your mind all the time. Makes me crazy.” Adrian paused. “Are you saying you didn’t want her to go?”

  “Would you let your wife go out there to certain death?” Richard practically shouted at the station master.

  “To defend Alysia? Absolutely. I’m staying here on the station as a second line of defense if they fail. I’m putting my life on the line. And my favorite nephew is out there at the front line. He promised me that he’ll come back after wiping out the Fallen.”

  Richard pounded the console in sheer frustration and fear. “That woman! I’ll kill her when I see her.”

  “Richard, you’re not making sense.”

  No, he wasn’t. It appeared a common reaction of his where Elise was concerned.

  ***

  “The Black Death and Silver Bullet reporting in.” The voice sounded familiar, but Deane couldn’t place who it was. It wasn’t Jordy who usually captained the Black Team because it was female.

  “My God, it’s Elise!” Commander Spencer exclaimed.

  “Elise!” Elija’s and Captain Longstaff’s voices shouted simultaneously.

  “Hello team. Couldn’t let you defend Alysia without me. Don’t want you guys grabbing all the glory.”

  “Welcome in,” Commander Spencer said. “Do you want to assume command?”

  “No, Sam. That’s your job. I just want to destroy some Fallen and get revenge for what they did to our fleet and my mother.”

  “Me, too. All right, Captain Elise Fujeint-Steele of the Black Death and Captain Tanya Ranger of the Silver Bullet complete this fleet. Check your communication panels to make sure all the lights are on and coded to indicate which ship is transmitting. We’ll start at the top of the panel and each ship acknowledge your position.”

  Deane was third on the left of the front row. As each one reported, a different color light blinked.

  “Orange, shift to your left. You’re crowding Blue. At our rate of speed, we need to give each other plenty of room. Time of arrival to Kracta is three hours. We’ll split the formation right and left around the moon on arrival, so we come out from behind in hopefully what will be a surprise attack.”

  “What happened to ‘don’t shoot first’?” The orange light blinked.

  “Mission Central has reported that the incoming fleet has definitely been identified as the Fallen, and they are hostile. We still let them shoot first, but we plan to gain the advantage of surprise. Okay, straighten out your formation and reconfirm your course. I’ll give further instruction in an hour. Use three-two-five for any private messages. Commander Spencer out.”

  The abrupt quiet unnerved Deane. He finally had time to look around and see the black expanse outside his ship. Beautiful, yet deadly, he couldn’t step outside into space and saunter over for dinner like in a sim. That profound silence out there held no oxygen, no gravity, and no solid ground, only instant death for any human who went outside unaided or who found himself floating in the dark beside a blown ship. He stared down at his monitors. That was when he remembered he wasn’t alone. All around him, more than a mere crew, they were now a part of something much greater: the Alysian Defense Force. In their hands, lay the future of the entire planet and the survival of everyone living there, whether it be Terran, Alysian, or Enjelise. Ten ships to save the world.

  No pressure.

  Chapter 42

  Battle

  “Ease power, helm,” Elise ordered.

  What was his name?

  Her taking over as Captain had been a hasty affair. She was unfamiliar with her crew, but so far everyone was doing their job. Bleeding off velocity, they approached Alysia’s moon Kracta at a fast and deadly pace. Upon reaching it, the fleet split in two rows and circled around.

  And in the distance on the other side, the enemy fleet soared toward them, closing in fast.

  The Alysian ships burst out from the backside of the moon surprising the oncoming invaders.

  Dark in color, the aliens were too far away initially to scan effectively. As they closed range, Elise identified ships with a distorted elongated shark-like shape that sent chills down her spine. Various ports and appendages verified an array of bristling weaponry on ships built to fight.

  “Full power, helm,” she shouted. Once on the other side of the moon, she accelerated her ship away from the vulnerable moon. The ship leaped forward, rushing to meet a tight formation of approaching ships, now out in front.

  The Fallen’s partially deployed formation indicated they had not expected to meet a defending force so soon. By the time they spied the oncoming Alysians, forward elements of Commander Spencer’s pack were almost upon them. The enemy fleet, caught off guard, quickly assumed a defensive formation. Then, all hell broke loose as the Fallen opened fire.

  Commander Spencer’s voice crackled over the comm. “We have hostile action. I repeat, the enemy is on the attack. All ships engage.”

  “Circle behind them,” Elise barked to her helm.

  Behind her, Henry and Dean’s ships kept pace. Bright flashes lit the dark as ships all around opened fire. The black of space soon looked like a fireworks’ celebration.

  Her screen showed a glowing ball blossoming nearby and, on her panel, a gray light blinked out.

  “Oh, no, they got Polo,” her helm’s voice cracked.

  Joe. Her helm’s name was Joe… a simple name to remember.

  Another explosion of light, this time an enemy ship off to her left blew up.

  Elija’s voice chortled over her comm, “Got one. Got one. Coming around off their left flank. Meet you in the middle of their backside. Let’s surround them and get these bastards.”

  She recognized the intensity in his voice, and her own excitement notched higher. Her adrenaline spiked, making her hands shake. On her left, another enemy ship exploded in a ball of brilliance as she swept by off on their right.

  Commander Spencer’s voice held firm and steady. “All ships engage. Engage at once.”

  She was circling around now from the right, enemy ships to her left, firing as she soared past. On the other flank, Commander Spencer’s ship also headed for the enemy’s rearguard, followed by Elija.

  “Almost at their flank, Elise. Meet you there. Fish in a barrel,” her clone croaked with excitement.

  “Copy that,” she gasped. “Targets approaching range.” At that moment, several Fallen at the enemy’s rear noticed them and rotated, firing deadly laser beams at them. "Target oncoming and fire at will," she screamed as the bridge shook from ordnance leaving the gunport.

  ***

  On board the Golden Angel, Bashar watched as Sam and Elija’s ships screamed past up the left side while they engaged the frontline. Missiles and lasers arced out in long lancers of light toward the bulk of the approaching Alysians. In front of him, the Orange Peel took a devastating hit and started tumbling sideways, which left the attacking ship wide open. Now in his sights, their gunner, returned the favor, releasing several missiles on a corkscrew course right at the now vulnerable enemy.

  “That’s got you!” The Golden Angel’s crew raised their hands in victory, then sobered when the orange light winked out on the overhead console. Orange Peel, now silenced.

  Through their comm, they heard Tanya scream in outrage at the death of her close companions. “I’ll make you bastards pay! The Lone Ranger rides again.” As Bashar violently swerved to evade an attacking ship, he saw her Alysian craft come from behind him and dive directly into the hornets’ nest of the attacking enemy. Two Fallen ships disintegrated under her heavy fire, but swiftly those nearby rained destruction upon the rampaging Alysian.

  Bashar yanked The Golden Angel up and
around to avoid crossfire. Heavy acceleration slammed his crew into their seats while flecks of light danced before his eyes. He blinked away the dizziness and aimed for two enemy ships.

  “Targets in sight,” Hallie barked.

  On their console, the light indicating the Silver Bullet dimmed and extinguished. While the lead ships of the Fallen scattered in the wake of Tanya’s charge, Bashar came around and slipped in behind two Fallen ships flying in formation. “Got you two, Jan,” he said.

  “Jan, hit the port quarter of that ship and take both out,” commanded Hallie.

  With a nod, the gunner acknowledged the setup.

  “Two in a side pocket,” Jan muttered as a projectile hit the aft of one to spin it into its companion, crippling both. Another hole opened up in the enemy’s defense as the two wounded sharks spiraled away. Unfortunately, the gap quickly closed, and Bashar soon found their ship surrounded.

  “By the Lady!” swore Hallie as a laser beam sliced into their side too fast for Bashar to evade. Time went into slow motion as Jan was ripped in half. Blood droplets sprayed all over the cockpit. Another burst and Sonja’s comm station exploded. Pieces of metal and parts flew everywhere. One caught her helmet, cracking it. Gasping, Sonja slumped forward onto her panel.

  “Unbuckle,” Bashar heard Hallie order.

  He blinked out of disbelief that Jan and Sonja were dead. It had happened all so fast. He yanked the stick to the right. “If I’m going to die, might as well take out as many as I can along the way.” He pressed the stick all the way forward.

  Grabbing him from behind, Hallie yelled, “Release your harness.”

  Bewildered, he instinctively obeyed. His fingers flipped the harness open, and he turned in question as she put her arms around him, almost like a hug. He let go of the helm, causing the ship to rotate toward two enemy ships. The distance closed between them at maximum acceleration. Then, oddly, singing filled his helmet.

  Mere seconds before impact, the universe shivered, and a brilliant light enveloped both of them.

  ***

  Dean could barely see through the confusion of ships and debris. The yellow light on his panel fluttered and then winked out, momentarily distracting him.

  Hallie! They got Hallie… and that strange nomad, Bashar.

  His heart stuttered. Then, anger rose up with bitter bile, filling him. Inside his helmet, his face turned wet with tears of anger and grief.

  To his right, Jet exclaimed, “Those bastards! Harry, Harry, hit something.”

  “I’m trying.”

  The ship bucked as three missiles shot out and missed.

  “When I said hit something, I meant an enemy ship.”

  Harry gripped the trigger and carefully lined up another shot, weighing trajectory, velocity, and angle in the blink of an eye, hoping it would miss one of their own in the wild melee.

  The ship lurched again, but this time his fire smashed into a remaining Fallen ship. The detonation ripped open its midsection, sending fragments of metal and crew in all directions. Unfortunately, behind it, another enemy ship soared directly toward them with missiles firing. Deane’s ship took the hit and erupted with light and violence. In slow motion, he witnessed his crew being flung around like limp dolls. Lights went out, and the last thing he remembered was Lucas yanking on the helm as their ship spiraled helplessly outward and away from the fight.

  ***

  More than half the Alysian fleet had taken hits, as side by side Elija and Elise found the backside of the Fallen. Purple, blue, white, and green continued to flicker on her console. Then Aji’s White Lightening went dark. On her screen, she saw Henry and Sam frantically attempting evasive maneuvers.

  At the rear of the Fallen’s fleet, what she had thought were three larger ships began to split into nine.

  “Shit! Where did they come from?” Henry shouted.

  “Looks like they were hiding behind what we thought was the last line of ships,” gasped Sam

  “Oh, frag. And they’re coming for us,” Elija warned.

  “I see them,” she gritted out.

  They were outnumbered and running low on munition. She counted three missiles left in the rack and nine, now fifteen enemy ships.

  “We got to make this count. I’m down to three firing options,” panted Elija, echoing her thoughts. “I’ve only two missiles and a laser low on power.”

  The green light on her panel started blinking. She looked out to see three enemy ships firing missiles at Henry. His ship burst apart, bits and parts adding to the debris. The green light dimmed and extinguished. Finished with him, they advanced on her and Elija.

  “Frag! If they kill me, Richard will be so angry.”

  Elija choked out a laugh at her words. “Screw, Richard. Let’s take out more Fallen before they get us. Three against fifteen.”

  “Crap odds,” she muttered.

  “We can’t stop them,” Joe yelled.

  She eyed the approaching bogies and figured it was only a matter of time, but she would never admit it to her crew. Missiles shot out of two of the enemy ships, heading straight for them.

  “Intercept those missiles, Joe!” Her last three jolted out toward the incoming ordnance and deflected them.

  So that was it. Now, they were sitting ducks. The Fallen would claim her life along with the many she had loved. Helpless tears filled her eyes.

  Suddenly, close by, the stars began to shimmer and blur. Debris and ships started to tumble into a slow spiral. A gigantic hole ripped open, tearing apart the universe.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Hard left and dive, now!” she screamed.

  Her body slammed back in the hard acceleration as the ship dove and twisted away from approaching cyclone.

  Power crackled, and outside space churned. Overhead immense energies tore open the very fabric of time and space.

  “It’s a gate!” she yelled as ships thundered through the rift, far too close for comfort. Heavy magnetic and graviton emissions buffeted her ship about. She feared for its structural integrity, but her heart rose in exultation as she recognized the arriving craft. The sweet song of revenge whispered in her ear as Alysian space filled with eight Terran ships that opened fire to rain down destruction on an unsuspecting enemy.

  ***

  Frantic terror gripped Richard, knowing his wife was in a deadly fight, and he couldn’t do anything about it. His white knuckled fingers squeezed the edge of Mission Central’s panel. “We’re losing,” he moaned. He watched as Hallie’s ship smashed into a Fallen, both ships obliterated. He tried to track the action, but everything was happening too fast.

  Behind him, a brilliant light enveloped the room. Whirling around, he choked, “What the…?”

  Music swelled within the darkened room of Mission Central as controllers swiveled to stare at a blossoming ball of light that slowly coalesced into two space-suited humans. For a moment, they stood poised, and then collapsed to the floor. Before anyone moved, two additional glowing forms materialized on either side of them.

  Richard was the first to snap out of a state of shock and lunge forward. “Hallie!” He paused. “Ariel? Darius?”

  “She needed our help to successfully transport the two of them,” Ariel said matter-of-factly, her wings fanning the air. Darius patted the spacesuit.

  The figure on his right groaned and reached up to unsnap her helmet. Hallie’s beautiful face and white blonde hair emerged. She shook her head, blinked several times, and gazed about.

  Richard extended a hand to help her up onto a nearby couch.

  “Did we make it?” she asked, puzzled.

  “Yes. You’re alive in Mission Central,” he answered.

  Still on the floor, the other space suite moaned. Richard stepped over to lift the disoriented figure. Unlocking and lifting off the helmet, Bashar’s dark eyes looked glazed and unfocused.

  “Bashar!” Richard guided him over next to the slumped form of Hallie.

  Both Ariel and Darius ass
umed solid form. “There are others still alive,” she started to say when yelling and shouting filled the room.

  Richard spun around. “What’s happening?”

  One of the controllers pounded his console. “Your brother and Commander Bradley have opened a gate and are bringing some of the fleet through. We haven’t lost yet.”

  Richard dashed up to the comm, yanking it out of the controller’s hands. “Braden, we need to take prisoners, so we can interrogate them.”

  The comm crackled and popped. A gasping voice came on. “Well, hello to you too, brother … and you’re welcome.” A woof sounded as though Braden lost his breath. There was a large inhale as he said, “Dammit Tango, stop showing off. I’d like some level flying for a change. And bleed off some velocity. We’re here.”

  “I thought you might like to miss that incoming missile.”

  “Take out that ship!”

  “Ay, ay, Captain. Missiles away,” responded an unfamiliar voice.

  Another Fallen ship exploded in a burst of light.

  “Excuse me, Richard. I have a battle to win here.”

  The screen blazed with bursts of light as desperate Fallen fought off the new arrivals, and the tide of battle turned in their favor.

  Hallie stirred on the sofa. “Who’s alive out there?”

  A controller swung around to answer, “Red Dragon is sending out a Mayday. They’ve been penetrated and are running out of air. Black Death is operational and heading toward The New Frontier.”

  Richard grabbed a mic and shouted, “Elise. Elise are you all right?” Worry bubbled up inside of him.

  A controller yanked it back. “Sit down, Director. You’re not authorized to broadcast to ships.”

  An overhead speaker answered, “Yes, darling. I’m alive, but barely.” The voice paused and, filled with pride, said, “My old fleet saved our lives. I’m going to work with Commander Bradley to help collect all the dead and wounded as soon as we can get this area sorted out.”

  A huge weight of worry lifted from Richard’s shoulders. “The Enjelise have offered to help. They can teleport and assess the situation faster than anyone.”