by Noah Barnett
"Get in front of the two player ships ahead of us. We’re going to give that carrier something to think about."
A short chorus of affirmatives answered him and he took a few seconds to admire the chaos of battle. The carrier looked like a rusty juggernaut hanging in space, enemy Interceptors launching from it in a slow but steady trickle. His contact list grew by four and Charlie swore. The enemy pilots, after death, were jumping into new fighters and rejoining the fray.
He aimed at last Interceptor exiting the carrier, letting loose a rapid string of slugs. The glowing bullets streaked ahead of the fighter group, the Roth ship just starting to turn when the lead storm caught it. The Interceptor’s engine exploded in a brief ball of fire.
"Okay, I’m lined up on the rear of the carrier. Keep ‘em off me."
"Roger," he acknowledged absently. His computer automatically targeted the next-closest fighter, which was turning towards them. He fired, but Elva’s constant dodging made tracking the enemy next-to-impossible.
More of his wing came abreast of him, adding their own fire as the enemy fighter was forced to straighten out for a shot. Just as it fired, Elva jinked and the laser slid past their canopy, so close he could have touched it.
A warning caught his attention. On the readout, the canopy was flashing red, the oxygen reserves dropping from fifty-five to fifty-three percent. Even as he watched, it dropped another point.
His attention was forcibly dragged away from the readout as Elva jerked the Jaguar again. They were closing in on the carrier, which had taken notice of them again. Dozens of point-defense lasers shot in their direction and Elva was constantly shifting vector in order to keep them flying.
Charlie spun his chair around to see an Interceptor closing in on their group. He fired, if anything, just to knock the ship off target. The hail of bullets sailed out just as a red laser cut away from its underbelly, crossing the distance in a blink and holing one of the Jaguars. A second later, the enemy fighter exploded in a spreading cloud of space fuel.
"Shit, well, there goes my entire wing," a female voice said.
"Keep on the friendly fighter, it has to get closer to the carrier," Charlie ordered over the open comm. The Jaguar spun again and the entire group tightened up in order to force the carrier to pick a fighter at random.
There was pregnant moment as Charlie actually caught sight of his fellow wingmates. They’d closed the distance enough that he could make them out against the blackness of space, and each was spiraling inward to make themselves more difficult to hit, filling him with a strange sense of pride.
"Torpedo away!" an excited voice called, and he caught sight of a larger-than-average engine trail zipping toward the enormous vessel.
Time seemed to slow as point-defense fire shifted away from them, the carrier frantically beginning to fire on the missile. Lasers crisscrossed the space just ahead of the torpedo, but it too was corkscrewing inward.
A lucky laser caught the weapon just short of impact and an explosion equivalent to a five megaton bomb melted and shredded a section of its rear armor. All of the nearest point-defense blisters popped like overfilled zits, but the carrier kept on coming.
"Well, fuck," Charlie groaned.
"What do we now?" Elva asked, sounding worried.
The dropships were out of reach and the carrier was still spitting out reinforcements. He and Elva were never going to make it back to base. The low oxygen warning was constantly beeping at him and he dared not glance at the levels. Tobias had been destroyed already, but everyone else was more or less still on his tail.
"Misfits, I have a plan. We’re going to kamikaze this bastard."
"You saw what happened before; we'll be bugs on its windshield. What about the battle?" Jen asked, sounding tired and overly stressed.
"We can't pull back or the Roth fighters will pick us apart with their speed. Staying here will delay that, but we're still losing and we aren’t going to get any more reinforcements. Right now, everyone else is chasing after those dropships and I'm out of fresh fighters. Something has to change."
"Fuck yeah, let's do this!" Remy chirped.
"Elva, vector the ship to hit the point the bomb struck. Everyone else, follow our lead, and fire off anything left as you approach the hull."
"I'm scared," Elva admitted.
"You can do this, Elva. I believe in you. Aim for the damaged section; there’s less defense and it’s weakened from the torp." He wished that he could reach out to touch her, but there was a bulkhead between them.
The fighter spiraled away from the carrier for a few seconds. They would need to gain more speed to cause any significant damage to the thickly-armored vessel.
He armed both remaining Shrikes. They immediately locked onto the carrier, and Elva gunned the engines, aiming the fighter toward the rear of the ship. The Jaguar rocketed forward, the twin vector engines shoving Charlie back into his seat as the ship crossed .1c in a matter of seconds.
Laser fire from the undamaged sections of the carrier licked out as more enemy fighters launched, and Charlie roared his defiance, holding down both triggers. Glowing cannon rounds shot ahead of them as the Shrike missiles leapt forward. The blackened hull sparkled as the bullets slammed into it, followed by the two Shrikes. A rent was blown open in the carrier’s armor and his fighter passed through the tear into a tall, darkened hallway. For a fraction of a second, he caught sight of a white-suited alien trying to repair damage they’d caused before the Jaguar slammed into the bulkhead, exploding in a brilliant cloud of fire.
A counter flashed as darkness closed over him. When it reached zero, his eyes snapped open and he coughed up green slime. He sat up, spitting the fluid from his lungs, then glanced around. He was sitting, naked, in one of the many cloning vats. Nearby, he saw Elva sit up, also coughing.
"That was unpleasant," she admitted, wiping slime from her mouth. Charlie climbed from the tub and padded barefoot over to her.
"It's too bad about our fighters," Jen called from another tub. "I would have liked to start the game with something."
She climbed from her vat as Charlie helped Elva out, turning to look at his wingmates. All but Tobias had followed him into the mouth of Hell.
He was about to speak, but paused as he heard yelling - or cheering, he couldn't tell which. He stepped curiously past the showers and into the locker room, where several screens had been set up for the fallen to watch the rest of the battle.
A screen showed a blurry, long-range image of the carrier, which was slowly tumbling through space. Lights along the side of the craft were blinking on and off, fire billowing from several points. A massive, meaty hand slapped his slimy shoulder, and Charlie turned to see Tobias grinning at him.
"Thou hast slain the beast!"
The video rewound suddenly, showing the carrier decelerating toward them. It was still hours away, but on the screen it looked massive. Lasers and engine flares chaotically swarmed the space around the red capital ship, and most of the Roth fighters were busy attacking the remaining humans.
Jaguars, only discernible by their slightly-larger size, danced through the cloud of Interceptors, trying desperately to fire on the armored dropships. Charlie picked out his fighter in the wild melee as it spiraled in toward the carrier. Two small flashes were noticeable as his missiles struck the armor, followed immediately by his fighter. Monty, next in line, launched his remaining Needles into the crater before he also disappeared, followed by Remy and Jen.
Seconds later, a green fireball shot from the hole they’d made. The engines of the enormous capital ship went dark, came back on, flared twice, then died as the Super Carrier began to tumble through space. Despite having already seen it several times, the entire room erupted into cheers again.
The view panned out, showing the new vector of the carrier. As it was no longer maintaining velocity, the derelict would shoot past the moon to tumble into the darkness of space. All they had to do now was finish off the dropships and the Roth wouldn
't have any spawners left.
Apparently, the Roth had figured that out as well. The remaining dropships quickly bunched together as the Interceptors fought ferociously to defend them, but Charlie's actions against the Roth carrier had spawned copycats and Jaguars began slamming into the armored craft.
All that was left after a few minutes were a couple hundred lonely Roth fighters. Their final act was to turn toward the moon, accelerating at full speed. They wouldn't allow themselves to be captured, not by humanity. Thirty minutes later a hundred new craters speckled the lunar surface.
CHAPTER TEN
Epilogue
The joy of victory caught everyone in its powerful grip. Charlie’s back had been slapped so often that his shoulders felt numb, and his skin was turning red under the blows. He smiled anyway. Their crazy stunt had paid off; humanity had won the battle by the skin of their teeth. He watched the screens as the Roth continued to slam into the moon’s surface in small groups. The scenes were punctuated by the sight of a darkened carrier as it coasted past.
Dancing lights began to flash in the locker room like the bulb of an old camera and Tobias, who had been in the middle of slapping him on the shoulder, disappeared. Charlie was blinded momentarily, and when he blinked the double images from his eyes, he and the crowd were floating a hundred feet above the Earth.
There was a scream and a pair of hands grabbed him from behind. Half-turning in mid-air, he saw Elva, still naked, clinging to him as though he could prevent her from falling. Monty held protectively onto Grace, her legs wrapped about his waist and her face beet red.
An old man in a gray military uniform appeared just above them, looking immensely pleased as his clothes flapped in the evening breeze.
"You have done the impossible, and for that, I decided to break the game a little," Colonel Blake announced, his voice sounding twenty years younger. "Originally, I was going to call you all into the observatory and give everyone a pat on the head. I even had a cute little monologue prepared, but I realized that just wouldn’t do. Not for what you’ve accomplished. In none of our simulated scenarios was the carrier destroyed. In fact, they reached the lunar base every single time and the only thing that changed was how hard they fucked us. Oh, we'd fight, but the best we were ever able to do was fend them off until their fuel went dry.
"But you’ve all gone above and beyond anything we could have imagined. So, how exactly can I reward you? Humanity owes all of you a debt that can never be repaid."
"Can we have the fighters back?" Remy shouted gleefully, and Blake laughed.
"They seriously considered it, but we can't break game continuity that much. Instead, I wanted to show you something." He pointed downward.
Below, a hangar door in the side of the mountain began to open. The lee of the cliff had hidden it, but now bright artificial light spilled into the early evening as a crowd of bedraggled humans crept from the hole like nervous groundhogs. Shoulders hunched and heads bowed, they covered their eyes, squinting against the setting sun. Most of the refugees were dressed in little more than tattered rags, but a few wore tool belts and grease-stained coveralls.
Blake let out a braying cackle, pointing skyward. Charlie turned, shielding his eyes against the glare of the sun, and watched as a scattering of what looked like meteors slid across the sky. They burned brightly, the light growing in intensity as more and more of the objects slammed into the atmosphere, until thousands of flaming contrails filled the sky like fireworks.
Charlie was reminded of the initial battle in Gun Meister Online. Forty years ago, the Roth had descended to Earth in almost exactly the same way. That view had nearly heralded the end of mankind, but today, it symbolized a new beginning as the pieces of Roth wreckage vanished in the purifying fire. Elva hugged him from behind as they watched the fireworks.
"It's beautiful," she whispered into his ear. He nodded absently, still looking upward. A speck of red metal—the Super Carrier, he supposed—raced past the moon’s surface, sliding back into space just as the sun fell below the horizon.
The spectacular light show continued for almost an hour, the crowd below them alternating between cheering for joy and weeping for all that had been lost. It was over. It was finally over.
The mass of people began pulling rusty fire pits from inside the mountain and an impromptu celebration began as night fell. Barrels and kegs of home-brewed beer were wheeled out as the remnants of humanity allowed themselves to hope for the first time in forty years.
"History has been made today. Everything that has happened during the last several months in Gun Meister and the Closed Beta will be entered into Star Nova as primary lore. The capture of six dropships, the attack on Mars, and now the successful defense of Earth. We have officially reclaimed the solar system for humanity, and now we can begin rebuilding.”
Blake paused briefly to look over the crowd. "I'm sorry that your Jaguars did not survive the battle, but rest assured, everyone will be immortalized for their part.
"What you experienced was a microcosm within the game. In Star Nova, you will spend days, or even weeks, building ships, training crew, and plotting your moves. Certainly, the pace of the game will be slower, and perhaps not for everyone. However, we wanted to make the game something special. In fact, game isn't quite the right word. Instead, we like to think of Star Nova as an alternate universe. Everything, and I mean every planet, every system, can be conquered… or destroyed. The galaxy is open to those with the will to grasp it."
Blake clenched his hands into fists. As he spoke, his voice grew more and more leathery until only a hoarse croak remained.
"That must be a sign that my time is almost up."
The players began to vanish one by one, and soon Charlie was once more standing in the lunar base. Except now he was dressed in his flight suit and standing in a familiar circular observatory. Blake stood on the stage, looking older than ever.
"The closed part of the beta is over. We have already made an announcement that the Open Beta begins tomorrow. The servers will be coming down in a few hours for a scheduled patch; your accounts will all be reset, and you will need to choose new characters. Sorry, but the Terran Federation will be locked from that selection. There will, however, be several alien races to choose from. During the next month, you will be able to fully test the limits of the game. Your companions will join you in the race change, and really, except for a few small differences in philosophy, the playable races aren't so mentally different from humans."
"What are those distant races like?" a voice called from the crowd.
"Technically, humanity doesn't know any other alien species… except for the Roth," Blake shrugged. "The playable races are the Quill, the Meklar, and the Phylia. Things may change during the beta, of course, and other races may become available later on, but for now they’ve decided to limit the number of initial races to four. Make no mistake, however. There’s an entire galaxy out there."
The players immediately began to whisper, and Charlie turned to see Jen and Tobias looking excitedly towards him. Remy was bouncing from foot to foot as she took several of the objects being passed around, examining the small stack before passing them to Jen. Charlie held out his hand.
"Which race should we play?" Jen asked, passing the white squares to him. Someone had printed out blurry pictures of each race and Charlie flipped through what looked to be Polaroids.
"The Phylia look like plant people, and Meklar are just robots, but the Quill look kind of cute," she added. Charlie glanced at the picture. The Quill looked like furry marsupials on two legs, with oversized eyes and hands.
"I vote for Quill too," Remy agreed.
"I have no intention of spending my afterlife as a parody of an animal," Monty grumped.
"It’s only for a month. Still, I'd also prefer to be Terran after the release," Charlie added, handing the pictures to someone else in the crowd.
"Don't look so glum, Monty," Remy quipped. "We could be ‘ The Fluffy Butt Pirates,'
scourge of the space lanes."
Monty crossed his arms sullenly over his chest, and Grace contented herself by resting her head reassuringly against his shoulder.
"Personally, I have no opinion," Tobias admitted.
"Then it's settled. We'll each create a Quill character and meet up after. Since everything is being reset, there's no reason not to enjoy ourselves for a bit.”
Their discussion was interrupted as Blake let out a loud cough. Everyone turned to see him waiting patiently, hands tucked behind his back. He cleared his throat again.
"I almost regret your success," the commander rasped, before smiling and holding up a hand. "Don't get me wrong. I am exceedingly pleased to be alive, but I could do without the mountain of paperwork.
"The starting scenario will be changed because of you. The carrier was supposed to be the source for FTL technology, but it was obviously destroyed. We were originally supposed to start with warp drive tech, but no active industry."