by Noah Barnett
"As you can see, the Roth stand between six and eight feet tall. The young warriors start off green, like this one, but as they age, their scales change color. They breathe a combination of nitrogen, carbon dioxide, and inert noble gases, but oxygen is poisonous to them. That’s the only reason they didn’t manage to take the planet." He glanced back at the image of the alien.
"I wasn’t impressed with the Roth soldiers, not at first. Their warriors need glory like we need air, which is why so many of their troops just rushed into battle without skill or plan. Still, they were tough to kill. I usually had to dump an extra half-magazine into them to make sure they stayed down. They learned fast, though, and by the second day they’d started to copy our tactics.
"We players worked together to capture several of the dropships, then used a couple of Titan X rockets to get us into space so we could assault Mars. The Roth logistical base was a glass dome about ten kilometers in diameter, crammed full of towering red skyscrapers and probably a million Roth."
"How many did you kill?" one of the boys asked.
"Maybe fifty soldiers, a single captain, and a score of Roth serfs. My team took out the main power plant, which ultimately killed many more."
"Were you scared?"
Charlie shook his head slowly. "I’d be lying if I said no, but I had good friends with me."
"Are you going to defeat them, the Roth?" another young girl asked nervously. Her eyes, like those of nearly every student in the room, were focused intently on his face.
It was a good question. The Roth may have been awful at ground combat, but they were far more experienced in space warfare. He almost winced, remembering the pitiable simulation from yesterday, but quickly said, "Of course we will."
Thankfully, he was saved by the teacher clapping her hands to get their attention. The holo-screen went black, and the Roth disappeared.
"We’re glad you came in," she said, smiling at him.
"No problem. I had some time before the next simulation," he shrugged, stepping off the stage. The class stood as one and headed for the door.
After leaving the classroom, he followed the dashed line back to the fighter training rooms. Three of the pods were open and empty, meaning that the previous group was almost done. Elva was already there. She stepped closer to him as he approached.
"Where did you go?"
"I went exploring and wandered over to the kiddie section," he shrugged.
"Looking for a new girlfriend?" she teased.
"Tempting as that is, I think I’ll stick with the woman I have," he said, putting an arm around her waist. He looked at her closely, then feigned surprise. "Is that a wrinkle?"
She slapped his chest, scrunching her nose at him.
Monty and the others soon joined them and they waited for the training session to end. Finally, the last two simulation cockpits opened with a hiss and the players and their co-pilots climbed down the stairs, the stink of failure dogging their steps.
"Did it not go well?" Monty asked.
"They cranked up the number of enemy ships, and we spent almost ten minutes just dodging lasers," the rainbow-haired wing leader snarled, stomping past them and out into the hallway. Her companions followed, their moods nearly as black as hers.
Charlie had watched a few minutes of the battle, but Monty had been right. Without context, all he could see were pretty lights and explosions.
He stepped over to the vacated simulators and held out a hand for Elva. She eyed it suspiciously, clearly recalling yesterday’s ass slap.
"It’s a risk you'll have to take," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.
Across from them, Monty helped Grace into the pilot's seat and Gadreel gave a squeak as Tobias lifted her off the stairs to set her inside their own pod. Even Alastair was helping Jen into her cockpit.
Elva looked back at Charlie, who was still holding his hand out. She sighed and took it, and he played the gentlemen just this once as she slid into the seat. Before the canopy closed, however, he bent down to steal a kiss. She tasted like a woman, a real living person, not a weapon from Gun Meister. There was a sweetness like frosting on her lips - though that might have been the cinnamon rolls she'd eaten earlier.
"Ohh," she sighed as their lips parted. He pulled back, and the cockpit closed over her, hiding her from view. It was their first truly intimate moment since Elva had been born human.
Charlie smiled and climbed into the gunner's seat, pulling the helmet on as the canopy slid closed. Light filled the small cabin as hexagons danced across the glass surface.
Once again, the simulation started in the hangar bay. His wing was already lined up on the catapults, and the work crews had vacated the hangar. He reached over, flicking the console screens to life. All systems appeared green, his loadout showing only two missiles.
The fighter's twin engines kicked on with a low growl as the plane spun to face the wall, orange strobes filling the hangar bay as five portals opened on a long tunnel.
The lieutenant’s face appeared in a small window on his HUD. "You will launch in thirty seconds. Your first objective will be the same as yesterday: Plot a safe course to the destination, after which the scenario will continue."
The window vanished and Charlie sat back in his seat. After a short pause, the Jaguar jerked forward, racing down the long tunnel. Within seconds, they were in open space, the lunar surface quickly dropping away. The five ships held formation as Elva accessed the navigation computer.
Charlie took the time to open a communication link with the others and four faces appeared on the right side of his HUD. "Let's keep comms open this time and maybe we can help each other in combat."
"Oh goody, I looked up some new jokes after Mars," Remy said excitedly. There were several groans.
"I dare say, if there is one thing Remy can be counted upon, it's to be inappropriate," Monty drawled.
"They aren't that dirty…"
"Get it out of your system now," Charlie groaned wearily.
"How do you get a nun pregnant?"
No one responded.
"Dress her up as an altar boy!"
For a moment, the comms were completely silent.
"... I expected far worse," Jen admitted.
"May I fly behind the Sinner?" Tobias asked.
"Heck no, you might mistake me for an altar boy and get frisky with my tail," Remy scoffed, and this time Charlie did laugh. Those two would never get along, but it was always entertaining to hear them bicker.
The fighter turned, and a yellow diamond appeared on the lunar surface.
"Ugh, now they put the moon in the way. I'm going to have to plot two separate burns," Elva groused.
"Talk it over with the other pilots, maybe together you can figure out the best course."
More faces appeared on the right side of the screen as the pilots were included in the link. They immediately began a discussion in high-level geometry, which he subsequently tuned out.
While he waited, Charlie turned his seat to look up. The glory of the heavens unfolded before him, and he devoured the sight eagerly. The view alone was worth the price of admission—at least, in his opinion.
His attention was brought back their conversation as Elva said, "Okay, we burn at one hundred and twenty by negative thirteen degrees for thirty seconds. Then turn to two hundred and seventy by one hundred and five degrees and boost for ten minutes."
"My plot saves us two percent on the ETA time," Alastair suggested.
"Pardon me if I am incorrect, but I believe they intend to skip us ahead, so time is not a factor," Grace pointed out.
"Yes, and we'd spend four percent more fuel skimming the lunar surface," Elva agreed.
Alastair nodded. "You're right."
"We're ready to start our first burn," Elva warned, so Charlie took hold of the joysticks and centered his chair. A few seconds later, the fighter turned toward the stars and the engines engaged, the weight on his chest steadily increasing as the Jaguar rocketed away from th
e moon. Half a minute later, they turned again. The Earth slid into view and they boosted for open space.
"Elva, can you add the pilots to your own channel?" he asked. "We gunners might need immediate help and I don't want to step on your comms."
"I think so." Four faces on his HUD vanished, leaving just the players in the loop. The SA-Jaguar built up speed, quickly passing .1c.
Lieutenant Mansfield appeared again, looking pleased. "Almost the whole flight is on the same vector; a very good sign. Tomorrow we'll maneuver in formation, but for now, we're going to skip ahead in the simulation.
"This is your only warning. Treat each scenario like it's an entirely different encounter. We cannot predict how the Roth will truly perform."
***
After the skip, Earth appeared on his right side and Charlie swiveled in his chair, seeing a hundred green icons lined up. He continued to turn until he reached the seat's limit, noting the red flickering tentatively on the radar almost two million kilometers away.
In the distance, flashes of lasers could be seen only as thin red strings. Their formation broke apart as pilots began preemptively dodging, his list of contacts continuing to fill with partially-identified targets.
"Follow the lead fighter so we can stick together. If I get hit, switch to Monty, then Remy, and so on."
Elva turned the Jaguar to face the Roth forces and burned for several seconds, then spun the ship up through an elliptical twist. Charlie rotated his turret to make sure his wing was following. It was sloppy, but the four green icons were still behind them.
The Roth forces were coming in fast and lasers began flashing out at the human ships. The nearest target was already under a million kilometers away, so he selected a missile from his list and a circle appeared in his crosshairs.
The enemy marker was coming straight toward them. With its fuselage blocking its heat signature, it took more than thirty seconds for him to even get a tone. The distance was shrinking at an incredible speed; they were already less than two hundred thousand kilometers away. He fired off the missile as Elva burned sideways again and the Roth’s laser shot past as the Wasp streaked forward. Several more contrails followed as his team also fired on their targets.
"Do they have enough forces this time?" Remy whined over the comm.
Charlie glanced at his contact list. There were over two hundred enemy fighters, meaning they had enough to outnumber the humans two-to-one. That wasn’t good.
The Roth fighters rocketed in and out of weapon range in less than a second, and his missile vainly attempted to turn around, leaving him with only one.
"If we go after them, we'll end up sandwiched between the two forces. Burn for the dropships instead. Let's make them go on the defensive."
The human forces started to split up, with most turning toward the Roth Interceptors. Only about thirty ships continued forward toward the second group of Roth.
It's no wonder they want flight leaders, he thought. The green icons on his screen spread out as everyone apparently just did their own thing. They needed a commander who could strategize and make a plan.
The contacts on his list continued to spread out, but ahead of him, the remaining Roth fighters were forming a wall between them and the unarmed dropships. At half a million kilometers Elva started to corkscrew the ship, lasers beginning to zip past his craft almost immediately. He picked an enemy fighter at random and locked it up with his last missile. At the tone, he launched the tube, watching as it raced forward.
The Wasp quickly reached maximum velocity, closing in on the Roth fighter. At three hundred thousand kilometers, the explosion was little more than a dim flicker of light, but he still smiled as the contact disappeared from his list. Elva turned the ship, slowing it slightly, then attempted to vector toward the dropships. Five or six Roth ships zipped past and pulled a hard U-turn.
Charlie turned to aim at the fighters as they started to catch up to the Jaguar. Elva bobbed the ship again, burning in a random direction as three lasers streaked past on an interception to their previous location.
He tapped Elva’s comm image. "Tell me when you get us near the dropships."
"That's going to be tough," she warned. "Every time I turn toward the dropships it'll give the Roth a good shot at our ass."
"Well, I'd like a dropship kill today, so do your best."
Four fighters slid into view at around a hundred thousand kilometers. He targeted the first as it began to close in on them.
"I have four on my ass," Jen complained tightly.
"We all do," Remy replied, sounding like she was rolling her eyes.
He fired off a string of 20mm rounds before Elva twisted the ship again, several more lasers coming uncomfortably close as he continued to track the Roth fighter. Suddenly, his primary target rolled away, wheeling crazily. He must have gotten a piece of it!
Charlie pumped his fist triumphantly, selecting the next closest target and rotating to face it. At seventy-five thousand kilometers, he fired again.
Remy's face abruptly turned to green static, her square vanishing from his HUD.
Shit, he thought.
A ghostly predictive circle was frantically dancing ahead of his next target as Elva threw the Jaguar into a complicated spiral. As she flipped the fighter and leveled out, pointing at the dropships, Charlie lined up his crosshairs on the ghostly circle and fired.
The repeater belched, spitting its rounds back at the ship chasing them. The shots only took a second and a half to reach the target, and something inside the Roth fighter exploded, breaking the ship into two pieces. He let go of the trigger and glanced at his ammo counter. It was already down to fifty percent.
"I'm hit!" Jen shouted. Her image flickered several times, but she continued to transmit. Charlie and several Roth were closing in on her.
"Monty, can you help Jen?" Charlie asked.
"We shall rescue thee," Tobias called. Fighter 3 slid sideways, burning towards Jen's craft.
A pair of lasers slid so close past his canopy he was temporarily blinded, and for a few seconds all he could see was a red glow. He shook his head, trying to clear the after-image from his eyes as a second set crossed just below their craft.
"We’re approaching the dropships." Elva jinked the Jaguar again and the Roth fighters rolled, continuing to close on them.
Dropships meant good money, so he wasn't about to waste this chance. He selected the closest one from his list, rotating to face it.
The hundred and twenty-four-meter vessel was a much more substantial target than the individual fighters. At eighty thousand kilometers, a weapon's pip appeared ahead of the ship and he fired off a long string of 20mm rounds. A warning popped up on his HUD.
[25% ammo left]
Another pair of red beams crisscrossed just behind their fighter. Elva tried jinking one last time, but they had only seconds left. The Roth fighters on their tail would pick them off soon enough. They were at twenty thousand kilometers now, and he could see the giant dropship with the ship's improved vision.
He concentrated on the circle just ahead of the target, keeping the crosshairs pinned to its center as he fired what remained of his ammo. The 20mm shells left the cannon at .33c, dancing through the vacuum like glowing fireflies. The counter dropped past ten percent just as the ship exploded.
He spun the turret, hoping to kill at least one of their pursuers, but two energy beams sliced into their backside and the fuel tank exploded in a ball of rapidly-expanding fire. This time, Charlie didn't even have time to experience his death before the canopy over his head opened.
He yanked the helmet off, stretching his neck until he felt a satisfying pop. Standing, he glanced around the room. Remy was skipping back and forth while Eugine leaned against the wall with a dreamy expression on his face. Jen was still in her simulator, so Tobias must have been able to help her out.
Elva slid from the pilot's seat, practically floating down the stairs. He jumped down after her and joined Remy by the door
.
"How'd you do?"
"I’m starting to think my butthole looks appealing, ‘cause I got fucked," she admitted. "You?"
"I got two fighters, and we took out a dropship before we died," Charlie replied, a little smugly.
Remy held out her hand, palm up. "How about a handout? You know… for the team?"
Charlie laughed. "If you need fuel or air, let me know, but I intend to blow today's money on another set of missiles."
Remy made a face at him, pouting, and before long the other wing members were climbing from the simulators.
"How did you guys do?" he asked.