by Daniel Gibbs
“I wouldn’t doubt it. We need to maintain forward momentum. In my discussions with the Mother Superior, I believe she wants to bring this to a tipping point where the Monrovian government collapses,” David replied.
“I worry about the casualties,” Tural said. “I’ve seen so many tortured, malnourished people rescued from the camps. I can’t imagine what they’ve been through.”
Amir shook his head. “The butchers that did this need to face the wrath of Allah. As his instrument, I am looking forward to bringing it to them.”
“Yeah, how is it that the fighter jockey is the only one that’s getting to kill the enemy here? I’m reduced to stunning people,” Calvin snorted.
“I’m beginning to think you have a problem,” David said dryly toward Calvin.
“It’s mostly in jest, sir.”
“The ‘mostly’ part is what worries me.”
Tural and Amir snickered. “I think she’s stepping up to the front,” Tural said, redirecting all of them.
David glanced forward, and indeed Sarno had taken the center of the formation; he was consistently impressed with her, that despite her age, she did everything she demanded of those under her command. She’s probably in better shape than I am, and I’m nearly twenty-five years younger. Hmmm, on second thought, that’s embarrassing. I should work out more.
“Sisters, and those friends who have joined us, thank you for coming this morning. The last twenty-four hours have been difficult. We’ve been tested in ways that we haven’t been tested in years,” Sarno began. It’s almost like she speaks directly to you. “Throughout the history of our order, we have strived to defend the weak, liberate the oppressed, and to honor God throughout our actions. Once the battle is won, we mend the brokenhearted, bind up their wounds, and try to heal their souls. We’ve made much progress in this fight, but the hardest portion of it is yet to come. Our enemy is entrenched, and time is against us. Today, we will attack three camps at the same time, and our air support will be stretched thin. But our God is a strong tower, and in Him we can trust. Watch out for and protect your sisters to your left and to your right. Trust in your leaders and your training. Together, and through God’s grace, we will come home today, and we will emerge victorious over this foe. Let us pray.”
David bowed his head while the nuns prayed, mostly in Latin. Instead, he prayed silently in Hebrew. Lord, God of the Universe, if it is Your will, please protect the lives of those who serve with me this day and return them safely to their families. Amen. He lifted his head to see the nuns coming to attention as one and saluting with the same index finger pointed to the sky he had observed them since joining the expedition.
“Now, to your assigned shuttles. We move out in thirty minutes,” Sarno said. Like a human wave, the nuns melted away.
“I’ll head back to the hospital. Allah willing, there will be few casualties today requiring my attention,” Tural said.
Kaufman walked up to the four of them. “Gentlemen, glad to see you’re all ready to go. Colonel Demood, you’re with me. Colonel Cohen, you’re on shuttle two.”
David flashed a smile. “Thank you, Sister.” He turned to leave. A sudden question popped into his mind. “If I may, what does the index finger pointing upwards signify? I assume it’s your unique form of a salute.”
“You assume correctly, Colonel,” Kaufman replied, all business as usual. “As for the salute, yes, it’s unique. It signifies that we worship and respect God, not each other. Then again, this order is pretty unique, wouldn’t you say?”
“Most unique military outfit I’ve ever seen; can’t even kill the enemy,” Calvin said.
“Do you want me to PT you around this field, Colonel Demood?”
Before Calvin could respond, David jumped in, a big grin on his face. “Get to your shuttle before the lady makes you do push-ups, Cal.”
Calvin tried to look pissed, but David wasn’t buying it. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll see you all later,” David said, finally turning and walking off toward the shuttle landing area.
Sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of nuns, he made his way off to the shuttle he’d been assigned to; hurrying up the ramp, he realized there was no one who he recognized onboard. “Is this shuttle two?” David asked, wanting to be sure he was on the right craft. It did have a large “2” on the side of it, after all.
One of the nuns looked up. “Yes, it is, brother,” she replied before looking back down at her rosary beads.
David sat down in one of several empty seats, locking in his harness like it was second nature after securing his battle rifle in its holder. There was no interaction or discussion between those in the shuttle; he had noticed on repeated sorties now that the nuns almost exclusively prayed the rosary on their way to and from combat. To his surprise, Simone, the novice that had joined his squad on the last combat mission, walked in.
“Colonel Cohen!” she said brightly. “We meet again.”
David smiled. “That we do. Assigned to shuttle two as well?”
Simone secured her battle rifle and strapped into the harness next to David. “That I am.”
“Another day, another concentration camp, eh?”
Simone raised an eyebrow. “That’s some pretty gallows humor there.”
“Hang out around Colonel Demood long enough, and it becomes infectious.”
“Sounds like you’ve served with him for a while.”
David smiled. “Only a few months. But he’s a good Marine, and I feel like I’ve known him far longer.”
“Commanding the Lion of Judah must be an incredible task.”
“It’s a rather humbling and sobering position. One of the most powerful warships in this part of the galaxy, and the act of getting it right, every single time, falls on me. No pressure, right?”
“Do you wish you didn’t have the job?”
David shook his head. “Never. God puts us where we need to be. Ergo, I’m where I need to be.”
The ramp on the shuttle began to close, and Simone pulled out her own set of rosary beads. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to pray before we drop into combat. It’s something we all do.”
“I do the same, Sister. I might do a little differently from you, but it’s the same idea.”
Simone smiled and closed her eyes, looking down. David glanced around the shuttle and focused his mind on his thoughts. How was the Lion doing? He didn’t doubt that Aibek could ably command her, but knowing that his crew was hundreds of lightyears away, fighting the League, didn’t sit well. Still, this is the right thing to be doing. We’re making a difference here.
25
Fifteen minutes into the flight was the first visible sign that something was wrong; the shuttle began to yaw back and forth, taking evasive maneuvers. The nuns looked up from their prayers and glanced at each other nervously. David cued his comm channel to reach the cockpit. “We’re getting shook up good back here, flight. What’s going on?”
“We’re under attack, Colonel Cohen. Please stay off this channel!” came a curt reply from the pilot of the craft he was on.
David glanced over to Simone, who much like the last time they had deployed, looked quite apprehensive. “First time being shot at in a shuttle?”
“Yeah… what about you?”
David thought back to his many years of experience in the CDF; being under enemy fire was something that had become second nature. “After nearly twenty years in the military, it’s old hat. Though I hate being in the back, unable to affect the battle.”
“Why?”
“Because if I were at the controls, at least I’d be able to affect the outcome in some way. Back here… I’m just a passenger. No matter what happens, I have no control over it.”
“That’s an interesting way of looking at it,” Simone said as the shuttle slammed to one side in a sharp turn. The harnesses shook, and everyone got tossed around a bit. “If we can’t control the outcome, just give it to God and quit worrying!”
Simone laughed nervously; David closed his eyes and tried to push away the fear which had invaded him. There was an explosion close by that severely rattled the shuttle and caused it for a moment to completely invert.
The pilot was able to right its flight path quickly, but David could tell from the sound of the engines that something was seriously wrong. “Oh, snap!”
“Brace! Brace! Brace! We’re going down!” the pilot stated calmly but forcefully through the intercom. Everyone in the shuttle quickly assumed a brace position, heads down. David found himself hoping that the reinforced harnesses would be enough to keep them from suffering too much injury.
“I’m scared,” Simone said. “I know I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it.”
“Nothing wrong with being scared, Sister,” David managed to get out as G-forces began to impact them in the steep dive. Talking, even breathing became difficult, as his chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it. “If you’re not, there’s probably something wrong with you.”
Thinking he would end up regretting it, David pulled up the flight readouts on his helmet’s HUD. They confirmed his worst fear; the shuttle had lost thrust and was plummeting out of the sky. He watched the horizon level out as the pilot expertly tried to save the shuttle; in the end, she was able to achieve straight line flight but couldn’t reduce forward speed. As they were over an urban area, they were headed straight for a building. With no thrust or control, there was nothing else the pilot could do. David reached over and held Simone’s hand. “This is going to hurt.” He forced as much bravado into his voice as he could.
David’s brain registered the impact into the building’s face; the world around him spun and warped as the shuttle absorbed the damage. Its hull cracked open, flinging nuns in their drop harnesses out of the cargo area; a piece of debris slammed into his helmet, and he blacked out.
A few minutes before David’s shuttle crashed, Amir and three wingmen flew close escort. This is shaping up to be a milk run, he pondered, referencing an old term from long ago that had stuck with fighter jocks. It merely meant that it was going to be a simple flight. Thanks to the drone overflight providing LIDAR coverage of the planet, which David had plugged into the sisters’ command net, courtesy of his command authorization codes, they had nearly complete eyes in the sky. It was now impossible for the Monrovians to mousetrap them as they had two days before.
Since they were hitting three separate targets today, Amir had volunteered to take the lead on one escort flight, while Arendse and another one of her flight leaders took point on the other two. He felt like after several combats, the rest of the nuns had come to respect his piloting and combat capabilities, and they had all gelled as a team with the new equipment provided by the CDF.
“Reaper flight,” Amir said into the commlink. He had taken the liberty of assigning his own callsign to the group of four fighters. “This is Reaper One. Maintain close contact with our flock of shuttles.”
“Acknowledged, flight leader,” one of the nuns replied.
Amir was surprised when he detected a flight of twelve fighters appear on his screens at relatively short range. “Reaper flight, I’m reading twelve bogies at one o’clock. Can you confirm on your sensor sweep?”
“Confirmed, flight leader. I show twelve unidentified contacts bearing zero-two-zero, best range, one hundred and twenty-five kilometers.”
Running the flight characteristics through his onboard computer, Amir tried to match them up to known Monrovian types, but they moved faster and had more stealth capabilities than anything known to be in their arsenal. It suddenly dawned on him that this was something else when the missile launch alarm went off, and twelve LIDAR guided missiles were inbound.
“Reaper flight, break, break, break! Drop chaff! We’re being engaged by League fighters!” Amir commanded.
“Say again, flight leader?” the nun flying the fighter to his left asked.
“Obey my orders, Sister! Our lives depend on it!”
“Shuttle flight, this is Amir. Break off and head for base. We’re being engaged by modern League fighters. We’re outnumbered and will try to hold them off. Dive to achieve maximum speed!” Not waiting for a reply, Amir switched to the command channel so he could speak with Arendse directly. “Sister Arendse, this is Amir. We’ve been engaged by hostile forces that appear to be using modern League fighters. What’s your status?”
There was nothing but static on the line. Damnit, the infidels are using jammers on us. For now, I have to focus on getting us out of this mess. Amir noted with satisfaction the missiles that had targeted his craft had gone for the chaff decoys. Swinging his fighter around, he went for the nearest enemy in an attempt to even up the odds.
In the back of the shuttle Calvin was in, both he and the nuns were pressed up in their harnesses as the craft hurtled toward the ground, its pilot engaging a maximum speed dive to outrun the Monrovian fighters that the commlink was full of chatter about. He had heard the mayday call from David’s shuttle and grunted as he pushed the harness up against its design and disengaged the lock. The nuns stared at him as he stumbled across the floor and collided with the hatch that led to the cockpit; it took all of his strength to open it up and crawl into the cockpit.
“Ladies,” Calvin said. Kaufman stared down at him in shock.
“Colonel Demood, what do you think you're doing?”
“Help me up, would you?”
Kaufman reached down and grabbed his outstretched hand; a moment later, and he had climbed up into and settled into a jump seat. “I just wanted to make sure we’re headed in the right direction.”
“We can’t go back for the others without getting ourselves shot down and killed.”
“I’m not leaving David behind,” Calvin said, steely resolve creeping into his voice.
“Once we can regroup, we’ll use local resources to find them. We don’t have enough fighters to take on this new threat. As a seasoned officer, you ought to know that.”
“I’m not leaving my brother behind.”
“You think I want to leave my sisters behind?” Kaufman practically shouted back at him. “We go back now, all we accomplish is getting ourselves killed, shot down, or captured. We’re better off escaping to fight another day and come back for them when we can help. Now, shut up, Colonel, and let the pilot focus on keeping us alive.”
“Reaper leader to shuttle six,” called the familiar voice of Amir through an open commlink. “I got the bandit that was chasing you. Head for the barn; we’re covering you as best as we can. Our best chance now is to get within range of friendly anti-air defenses; that should give our attackers pause.”
Calvin cued his internet comm system to the channel that Amir and the other pilots were using. “Amir, this is Demood. What’s the odds of you guys clearing a path for us to get back to Colonel Cohen’s shuttle?”
There was a pregnant pause before Amir’s voice filled the link. “We would throw our lives away trying and not even harm the enemy, Colonel. I’m sorry.”
Calvin’s head sagged downward. Damnit, I can’t just leave him behind. “Okay, drop me out the back of the shuttle. I’ll take my chances on my own.”
Kaufman just shook her head. “We’re over three hundred kilometers away by now. You can’t help him right now, Colonel. Calm yourself. I promise you we’ll go back, and we’ll collectively find a way to rescue him and our sisters. We don’t leave our people behind. Nor do we needlessly throw lives away. I’m pretty sure if Colonel Cohen could talk to you right now, he’d order you to do the same.”
Yeah, she’s right. Cohen would put our lives above his every time. That’s why I’m willing to fight and die for his. “You better be right, Sister,” Calvin finally said, stewing in anger. The shuttle continued to hurtle back toward the military base they occupied.
26
David wo
ke with a start to find Simone peering down at him. As he opened his eyes, he realized that they were no longer in the shuttle; it appeared she had dragged him free of the wreckage. Shaking his head slowly and trying to clear the daze from his mind, he looked around and saw her standing a few feet away. “Sister,” he said, his voice weak and raspy. “Are you okay?”
Simone turned around, holding a medical instrument, and walked back to him. “I was uninjured. Here, lie still. I need to check you for spinal cord damage before you move.” She ran the device over him several times at different angles. “Okay, no internal bleeding and your spine’s okay.”
“That’s good. I feel like that shuttle flew into me,” David said, trying to sound upbeat and force a smile onto his lips. “Where’s everyone else?”
Simone’s face and speech resembled a robot. “They didn’t make it. We’re the only survivors.”
Oh no. That’s twenty dead at least. She’s going into shock. “I’m sorry,” David said, somewhat lamely; there was little else to say. “Do you know where we’re at?”
Simone shook her head. “We’re in a city, though I’m not sure where exactly. The rest of the shuttles pulled back. I heard chatter on the comm that the Monrovians have deployed the latest generation League military hardware.”
“That tracks. We have been kicking their collective posteriors. Simone,” David said, trying to make a personal connection with her. “Look, I know what you’re going through right now. You’ve got to remember it’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong by surviving. We honor their memory by moving forward and finishing the fight so their sacrifice wasn’t made in vain.”
Tears fell down Simone’s face, and she dissolved into sobs; after a minute or so, she raised her head. “I’m sorry. I know we have to keep going, and I’m being weak.”
“Absolutely nothing wrong with showing emotions.”
“I’m a little surprised to hear that from an officer in the CDF.”