by C M Benamati
“I’m behind you,” said Liz. “Morgan’s above us.”
“Ok, found you.”
Morgan looked around but he couldn’t see either of the other Fireflies. He scanned his controls. There were multiple holographic displays, some with floating dots and circles that might be the other ships. None of it made sense to his panicked brain. “I can’t see you guys at all. Wally, are there sensors or something? There’s so many displays, I don’t know what does what!”
“Forget the built-in screens,” said Wally. “Hit the button above the left lens on your flight goggles.”
Morgan felt for the button, found it, and pressed. He gasped as the solid parts of the Firefly became translucent. He looked down and saw the other Fireflies below him through the faint outline of his thighs. As he looked around, the system tagged all the nearby craft with red and green brackets. There were a lot more ships than he had previously thought.
The silver ship above them was marked with green brackets. Does that mean the computer thinks it’s a friendly?
A blinking red arrow appeared at the far left of his vision, pointing outwards. He turned and saw a cluster of tiny dots coming at him, bracketed in red. As he stared at them, a virtual screen appeared and zoomed in. The ships were small, wedge-shaped darts. Trails of blue engine exhaust fanned out behind them. Alien fighters!
He punched the throttle forward as the fighters fired. A barrage of tiny green pulses shot past his starboard wing. “Help!”
“I see you,” said Wally.
“I’m coming,” said Liz. “Hold on.”
Morgan dodged this way and that as energy bolts whizzed past him. His ship jostled as a bolt grazed his shields. He spun, pointing the bow back towards the Sagitta, and went to full throttle. A mix of red and green-bracketed craft surrounded the fleeing earth ship. Some were too small to see from this distance. Lights twinkled between the ships as they fought.
Two small objects that had been marked in green exploded. Were those escape pods? Other Fireflies?
“Jack, Yin, do you copy?” he said, a sinking feeling in his gut.
No response. “Jack! Anyone? This is Morgan Greenfield to any other Fireflies! We need help!”
“The other pilots might be on a secure channel,” said Wally. “Or, they’re dead.”
No, please no. A green bolt slammed into Morgan’s ship, sending him spiraling. A restraining field energized, pressing him into the seat as his ship’s thrusters fought the spin. He gripped the flight stick with shaking hands, looking around wildly. The lack of stars made it impossible to tell where he was going.
Then he saw the enemy: three small darts, heading straight at him.
He closed his eyes and pulled up hard as the lead attacker opened fire. Still alive! He opened his eyes, zipping up and over the enemy. He flipped the ship around, flying backwards like Jack had shown him.
He tapped the stick forward to line up his bow with the enemy formation, which was likewise spinning to face him. As soon as his target was centered he pulled the main trigger. “Take that!”
The enemy’s shields flared with red light. This must be the laser cannon. He dove just in time to avoid another round of the enemy’s strange weapons.
“I see you,” said Liz. “Hold on.”
If she gets hurt…
He gritted his teeth, forcing away the thought. “Try one of the thumb triggers! The lasers are useless.”
There were two tiny flashes from somewhere above him. “Missiles away!” she yelled.
The missiles accelerated, tracking the enemy formation, then slammed into the side of the lead fighter. Ripples coursed through its shields.
Staring intently at the ship Liz had targeted, Morgan pressed the largest side-trigger. Two missiles shot from his fighter and arced towards the enemy, impacting with a fiery explosion. This time its shields overloaded. It spiraled out of control and crashed into its wingman. Both ships came apart, spewing debris and fire.
The third fighter peeled off.
Adrenaline coursed through Morgan’s veins. He had scored a kill. Two kills. “We got ‘em Liz!” he yelled. “Woohoo!”
“Uh, guys,” said Liz. “I think I’m in trouble. I…cr…the other shi…hel—”
Static overran her transmission.
“Liz, you there?”
No response. He backed off the throttle and banked hard to starboard, releasing the stick. The third fighter was chasing Liz! She zigged and zagged, but the enemy dart stayed with her, scoring hit after hit.
“I’m coming,” said Morgan, going to full throttle. He centered the crosshairs and fired the lasers, lighting up the dart’s shields. He pressed the missile trigger, launching two missiles.
Liz dove and the alien pursued, firing constantly, its engines burning white-hot. Morgan’s first missile smashed into the enemy’s stern, sending it off course. The second missile shattered one of the four vertical fins on the back of the dart. Unperturbed, the dart pressed its attack.
They were catching back up to the Sagitta. The com crackled again, but Liz’s voice was indistinguishable. Morgan squeezed the main trigger but missed as the dart zipped to starboard.
He started pushing the other triggers. One fired some sort of bow mounted machine gun. Useless! The next three triggers did nothing, except cause the message ‘Bank Empty’ to flash in his HUD. The last one fired burning metal shrapnel out of the back of his ship. No idea what that does, but it’s not helping.
He tried the missile trigger again. ‘Bank Empty’ flashed across his vision. Where is Wally?
“Wally, you have to help her. Use your missiles. They’re the thumb trigger on the back of the stick.”
“I don’t even know where I am,” said Wally. “Where are you?”
“Heading back towards the Sagitta.”
The Sagitta was growing large again as he followed Liz’s frantic flight towards it. As they neared, he could see small black specks sticking out of the Sagitta’s hull. Alien ships traded fire all around.
Liz had almost reached the Sagitta. The glow from the great ship’s engines reflected from her hull. She dove, heading under the cruiser, but flew right into the stream of fire from the enemy dart. Morgan cried out as energy bolts punched through her shields, just missing her cockpit. One bolt punched right through her wing and came out the other side.
Her engines flickered out, followed by her running lights.
“Liz? Liz!”
There was no answer.
The dart spun around to face him. Fearful of overshooting, Morgan pulled back on the throttle. He lined the dart up in his cross-hairs and pulled the trigger.
“Come on!” Morgan was almost on top of it now. Behind the dart, Liz’s ship tumbled, powerless. Morgan squeezed the trigger harder, willing the lasers to punch through the enemy’s defenses. Die!
The dart didn’t die. It fired.
‘Shields Failing’ flashed in his vision. “Ahhh!” he yelled, punching the throttle forward, heading straight at the enemy.
A thick stream of blue pulses swatted the enemy dart like a mosquito. It exploded just as Morgan’s Firefly tore through the space where it had been. Morgan looked up. The great silver ship had saved him. But what about Liz?
Her fighter was still drifting towards the Sagitta. He adjusted his course and nudged the throttle forward. If I can just connect to her somehow…
The black specks on the Sagitta’s hull detached. Morgan’s goggles tagged them with red brackets as they accelerated away from the Earth ship. He stared at one and the secondary view zoomed in. The front of the ship looked just like the thing that had pierced the corridor. Those are all boarding craft.
Five seconds later, the Sagitta went up in a brilliant blue-orange explosion.
Morgan paid no attention to the burning debris bouncing off his Firefly. He could only stare at the space where Liz’s ship had been. He didn’t notice the arrow-shaped cruiser passing by. Green fire splashed over his canopy and port wing. His head sl
ammed into the restraining field and he knew no more.
Chapter 28
Mog couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. The alien ship was gone. In its place was an expanding field of burning debris. “Nazpah,” he spat. I’m sorry.
At least three of the small craft that the newcomers had launched were still intact. He was eager to take them aboard, but first they had to finish off the Ta’Krell.
“Should I shoot down their boarding craft?” said Nali.
“No,” said Mog. On the screen, the last of the Ta’Krell shuttles fled the debris field. If they had taken any of the new arrivals as prisoners, he wasn’t willing to sacrifice their lives.
Why did they board it?
Since the war had started, no one had seen a Ta’Krell in person. The invaders were a mystery, a faceless enemy. Why had they taken such an interest in the newcomers? Had they shown their faces to the strange aliens before they killed them?
“That cruiser’s plotting an escape course,” said Nali. She threw the image of the Ta’Krell ship that had retrieved the boarding craft up on the main viewer.
“Let them.”
“Mog,” said Ryal. “We need to go.”
“Do it,” said Mog.
While the Narma Kull and her two escorts had been busy trying to save the strange ship, the Ta’Krell had pressed the attack on Sledgim.
“Initiating jump,” said Meela.
The viewscreen shifted and Sledgim appeared. They had popped out of hyperspace next to the orbital shipyards. The Maurians now heavily outnumbered the Ta’Krell, and the enemy had changed tactics. Instead of bombing the planet’s shielded outposts or engaging the Navy in orbit, they were concentrating their fire on the shipyard.
They’re trying to cripple us so they can come back and finish the job.
The shipyard was lightly shielded and relied on its point defense platforms. Most of these platforms had been destroyed, and the yard was taking heavy damage.
“Commander,” said one of the new science officers, a boardman named Till. “I’ve been analyzing the flight path from the alien ship. There are a few small cylinders floating back there, emitting some sort of repeating signal. They might be escape pods.”
“Excellent,” said Mog, feeling a twinge of hope. It was a strange feeling. “But we can’t do anything for them now. Let’s finish this fight.”
The com chirped, and Kremp’s voice came through the speakers. “Engineering to bridge. Mog, I’ve figured out what’s wrong with the projector cannons. It’s a problem with the control system. They were designed for orbital platforms and never intended—”
Mog cut him off. “Kalesh var sai, it’s about time! Now fix them!”
“Ten minutes and they’ll all be working.”
“Not good enough. Forget the aft weapons. Can you get me just the forward battery?”
Mog heard Kremp consult with his staff through the com. “I might be able to get you the bow ventral projectors in three minutes.” The ship shook as a Ta’Krell ship opened fire. “Assuming you can keep us together that long.”
“You have a deal,” said Mog. He switched off the com. “Nali, fire at will.”
They were still at maximum range. The small Ta’Krell cruisers were pinpricks surrounding the shipyard, their dark hulls barely reflecting the light of Sledgim’s sun. He looked at his tactical displays. They still had twelve operational ships. The Ta’Krell only had seven, although that wasn’t counting the two enemy fighter wings that were bombing the shipyard.
Ryal was giving orders. “Take us straight at them. Draw them away from the shipyard.”
“Got another one,” said Nali. “There’s only six Ta’Krell left.”
“We’re not any better,” said Ryal. “We just lost another scout ship and one of the armed freighters.”
Mog tapped the com panel. “Kremp, I need those new guns.”
“One minute,” said the engineer.
Meela turned the Narma Kull to face two Ta’Krell ships that had broken off from the shipyard to intercept Mog’s ship. Nali was throwing everything she had at the enemy, but the divided fire wasn’t doing enough damage.
The com chirped. “That’s it,” said Kremp. “The number two bow turret should work.”
Without waiting for the order, Meela pulled the nose up to optimize the firing angle. Mog got out of his chair and pointed at the screen, his entire body tingling. This would make or break the battle.
“Nali, lock onto the starboard ship and fire.”
There was a throb of power, a deep murmur that Mog had never heard before. A second later, a huge blue beam slammed into the Ta’Krell ship. Its shields held for a second, then the beam punched through the hull and came out the other side.
“Ramas be praised!” said Ryal.
“Yes!” screamed Nali.
“Target the other ship,” said Mog.
The result was equally spectacular. The crew roared in delight and astonishment. Mog caught Ryal’s eye and flashed him a warrior’s grin.
“Sir,” said Nali. “Sir! The Ta’Krell are breaking off. They’re running away!”
“We did it!” said Ja’tar. “We really did it, we’ve won!”
The bridge erupted.
“All glory to Ramas!”
“Hooray for Fleet Commander Mog!”
“Glory to Mog and mar-Ruba.”
“Long live the King!”
Mog didn’t allow himself so much as a nanosecond. There was work still to do. He bared his teeth. “Helm, jump to previous coordinates.” He realized before he finished speaking that Meela was already on it. She’d been hunched over her controls, and no sooner had Mog spoken than the stars swirled and they were in hyperspace.
A second later, they were back in the middle of the system, near the debris field from the alien ship. She’s command officer material, he thought, as Meela turned around and caught his eye. I’m glad she stayed with us. He tipped an ear at her. “Nice flying Meela, through all of it.” He paused, trying to remember what her mate’s name had been. By the time he had it, she had turned away. He cleared his throat. “Meela, Vurl would be proud of what you did here today.”
She bowed her head without looking at him.
Ryal shot Mog a questioning look, but Mog waved him away. “Good job everyone.” He flipped on the com. “Hangar deck, rig the boats for rescue.”
Chapter 29
The fisherman gazed at the horizon as he guided the skiff through the mouth of the river, past the Camp Ellis breakwater. His face was hidden behind a tangled gray beard. Beneath thick black eyebrows, his eyes glistened with love for the sea.
The boy was squeezing the wooden gunwale. He glanced over the side, stiffened, then looked down at this feet.
“I can’t believe you’ve never been on the ocean,” said the fisherman.
“I’ve seen it on a map,” said the boy, without looking up. “I’ve seen pictures.”
“Harumpf. When I was your age I loved the water. Surfing, sailing, diving, I did it all.” The old man smiled wistfully. “Nowadays I just float.”
The boy kicked at the peeling floorboards, dislodging a few soggy splinters. The swells were picking up. He bit his lip.
“Your dad never liked the water either. He never went swimming, other than to dip his feet now and then. He can’t tell the difference between a bluefish and a striper. I would say to him, ‘son, why don’t we go for a ride in the boat,’ but he always had something better to do.”
The boy was shivering now. White spray broke over the bow, showering them with mist. He licked his lips, tasting salt.
“Your dad is afraid of water. Did you know that? Where that fear came from I’ve no idea. Perhaps a bad childhood experience, or a scary holosim. Whatever caused it doesn’t matter. The problem is, in all his life he never confronted his fear. He ran from it, all the way to the desert.”
The boy moaned as the boat passed over a larger swell.
The old man didn’t seem to notice. �
�Now, I’ve nothing against a healthy fear. It tells us to run when there’s danger, and sometimes spurs us to fight.”
The boy tucked his feet underneath the wooden seat.
“It’s only a problem when you let it take control. Do you know what the key to mastering fear is?”
The boy twitched his head side to side.
“Do you?”
“No,” murmured the boy.
“It’s knowledge. You see, I’m not afraid of the water because I know the water. Your father never took the time to learn.” He turned the wheel, pointing the bow at open water. The boy closed his eyes.
“When you get back on dry land, I want you to think about what I’ve told you. Are you listening?”
“Y…Yes.”
“People fear what they don’t know. They fear the darkness, they fear the foreigner who doesn’t speak their language. But a fish doesn’t fear the water, and a bird doesn’t fear the sky, just like you don’t fear the desert heat. Today, I’m going to make you a fish, so that you don’t fear the water.”
The boy opened his eyes wide. “You’re going to throw me over the side?”
The fisherman laughed. “If that’s what it takes.”
The boy grasped his life vest and shrank away.
“I’m just kidding.”
“Oh.” The boy eyed the old man nervously.
“Glad we settled that one. Now listen. This boat was made to float on the water. It’s just as at home on the water as you are on dry land. When you’re out on the water, the boat keeps you safe. Remember this whenever you go on a boat ride. You will go on more boat rides, right?”
The boy shrugged.
“Make sure you do, because that’s the best thing you can do. Each time you go, you get to know the water a little better. The same goes for swimming, scuba diving, and fishing. Start with swimming. Get familiar with how the water feels around you. Go for boat rides, and get familiar with how the water feels below you. Before long you won’t be afraid of it at all. Do you know why?”
“Knowledge?”
“That’s it. Now it’s time for the real lesson. Look up! Come on, it’s ok. Take a look.”