by John Walker
“Then hurry up.” He aimed down the site of his weapon, waiting for the first person to step out in the open. “Times wasting as they say.”
***
Clea watched the feed from Deva, desperate to do more than watch but helpless at the moment. The transmission showed they arrived in a control room, some kind of central nervous system for the complex probably. If so, it may well be the way to manipulate the power source The Crystal Font sent them for.
But how exactly could they tap it for sparking their crystal? There didn’t appear to be any way to plug in to the thing. Maybe they need to get those monitors on and tell the computer to transfer some energy to a portable device. If my calculations are right, they won’t need much but an engineer should definitely take a look.
She sent a quick message to Durant, providing him the information she had. He’d be able to give them an accurate and quick response on what they needed. Of course, both he and the engineer aboard The Crystal Font were likely busy trying to keep them alive. The Behemoth was holding its own but for how long?
I wonder if Gray’s thinking about leaving. Two ships could not be lost out there. It didn’t feel particularly heroic but she understood the notion. Deva has to hurry. The camera feed was delayed by a few moments so when a monitor burst to life, Clea figured it must’ve been on for a good five seconds.
“What did you discover?” Clea asked. Voice was real time.
“I’ve tapped into the computer network of the complex,” Deva replied. “I’m analyzing it now and sending back the data as I record it. I…think I understand what’s going on and more importantly, I can confirm that the enemy is not present here. Take a look at this. Please confirm my conclusion.”
Clea watched as translated data filled her screen. She gestured for Paul to join her but he needed to go to his own terminal and translate the kielan language. Whoever built the complex left behind instructions on how to utilize their facility, a help file for lack of a better term. They wanted someone to come along and use it.
But why are we under such heavy attack then?
“Contact!” Lhar shouted. “From the elevator!”
Gunfire erupted over the com and Clea had to turn it down. She read quickly, doing her best to ignore the action. Deva must be stressed beyond belief. After the research facility, Clea knew how frightening field operations could be. Yet she left the ship another time while they pursued the recorder from her previous ship.
One does what they have to.
Paul broke her thoughts, “this is fascinating! I can’t believe we found such a thing.”
I only hope our discovery will be something we can share.
***
Meagan fought exhaustion and pain lancing through her muscles. The constant dogfighting was wearing her down and she knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Two of their ships had been disabled but not destroyed. There was no explanation. The enemy simply stopped shooting at them.
The bombers had to return to be reloaded and hadn’t returned yet. Panther wing likely needed to do the same with their missiles. As Meagan dodged an enemy that tried to collide with her, she fired a burst on another one and took him out. Flying through the explosion, she had to spin to the left to avoid another attack and hit her afterburners to get out of a particularly nasty brawl.
Mick called out to her, asking for her position. She told the computer to send it to him, focusing on her flying instead. They’d link up again and work together. Everyone got separated for a short period of time. The action out there made the craziest simulation look like easy mode. There were so many enemy fighters, they practically didn’t have to aim.
Another fighter on Tiger wing went down, disabled. Two bomber wings reported they were back on the field and heading for their targets, more of the battleships. They’d proved to be fairly easy to take down and Meagan risked a chance to count them. They were down to five. Considering the odds, she couldn’t believe they’d been so successful.
This will definitely go down as our most bizarre engagement to date.
Three enemies got on her tail and she groaned, performing a dive. Mick let her know he was on them, scattering the enemies and giving her some breathing room. She pulled a wild maneuver, spinning to get a shot off on them and her left shoulder flared up, shooting pain down her back. Not the time!
Pulling the trigger, she ended another one. If not for the computer, Meagan would’ve lost track of how many she shot down. Mick took out the other two and they formed up, prepared for the next wave. How long can this possibly go on? Why are they not experiencing any fatigue at all? It’s not like this is easy on them.
“You’re all about to have a worse day,” Revente said. “Reinforcements are incoming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Meagan clenched her fist in frustration. “Thanks, great news. We’re on it.”
“Captain’s about to order you to withdraw,” Revente replied. “Start working your way to a position to disengage. All ships, prepare to disengage. Bombers will deploy your payloads and head back. Acknowledge.”
“Acknowledged,” Meagan replied. They mean to jump out of this sector…without The Crystal Font. We’ll have come out here for nothing. And we won’t be able to get our disabled pilots either. This is a cluster. “You heard them, Mick. Start falling back.” Even if it is going to stick in my craw for a long time.
***
Kale checked the statistics of his fighters and noted that they were doing quite well despite the sheer numbers out there. Shields were holding on The Crystal Font as well, a miracle worked by Meira for sure. His people worked hard to survive against overwhelming odds, odds which would certainly end them eventually.
Deva’s report suggested they made it to the control center of the facility they located. Unfortunately, the soldiers were once again engaged with enemy ground forces. Kale already knew the result of their mission. Even if she found the power source, they couldn’t spark the crystal and replace it while under attack.
The second the crystal left the assembly, they’d be down to environmental shields only. Weapons would tear through that in seconds. Furthermore, the Behemoth wouldn’t be able to stay for much longer. They couldn’t risk being destroyed out there. He knew they were on the verge of abandonment and he didn’t blame them at all.
We don’t both have to die.
The fact they were down to five battleships out there shocked him as well.
Thaina clapped her hands. “Direct hit!” Kale looked at what she was talking about and noted she’d managed to get their weapons through an enemy’s shields and cause their core to overload. They hadn’t blown up yet, but the reaction was obvious on their scanners. That ship was done.
“Fantastic work.” Kale’s heart wanted to start hoping but practicality beat it down. Knocking them down to four meant they’d already done the impossible. Bombers from both sides were engaging again, preparing to fire at the remaining ships. They might even take two down. If that was the case, then the Behemoth just might be able to finish the rest off.
Fighters wouldn’t be as hard without a base.
I can’t say anything but this just might work.
The entire ship shook as if to dash Kale’s hope. “Report!”
Varez held on to his console and shouted back, “bomb hit us! Shields are at twenty percent!”
Kale slapped his own console. “Meira! Can you get us more power?”
“The crystal fractured again,” Meira replied. “I’ll do what I can but if we’re being honest, this thing has maybe ten minutes of combat left in her. Conservatively, I’d assume five.”
Five minutes. This ship will be lost in a matter of minutes. “Understood. Do what you can! The battle’s going far better than it should. Squeeze whatever you can out of that thing.”
“On it, sir.”
“Did we get the bomber dealt with, Thaina?”
Thaina nodded. “Turrets took the others down before they could release their payloads. We were very luc
ky.”
“That seems to be going around.” Kale narrowed his eyes. He’d studied space combat extensively and yes, a few battles had seemed to embody the definition of fortune. Most came down to simple tactics and numbers. Whether they lived or not, if someone reported on what happened, it would go down in the history books.
If anyone’s ever allowed to talk about it. “We don’t have a lot of time, Thaina,” Kale said. “Make it count.” He turned to Deva’s report and started to read, hoping for some good news.
***
Deva glanced over her shoulder and wished she hadn’t. She couldn’t even count the number of enemies in the hallway but the bastards had no cover. Lhar and his people cut them down easily, tearing through their ranks with quick bursts. However, she knew they’d run out of ammo soon. Then it wouldn’t matter how easy they were to shoot.
Turning back to the screen, she began reading the greeting.
Welcome, visitor! Thank you for visiting the V’ka’lin Sanctuary. This state of the art facility was designed for study, learning and leisure. All root species have been considered for as designers, we know our labors in the far off parts of the galaxy will eventually leave their systems and travel the stars, just as we did so long ago.
This facility and everything in it has been designed to ensure our visitors are able to function and survive on the surface. Please note that hostile action against other living beings will result in disablement. We have a glorious safety record in regards to public order and companionship. It would be a shame to lose our rating over a simple misunderstanding.
“This is crazy…” Deva muttered into her com. “Are you seeing this, Miss An’Tufal?”
“I am,” Clea replied. “The rest seem to be regulations for the facility. Try to click through so we can find the exact purpose or even better yet, a menu.”
Deva tapped her own screen, interfaced directly with the machine. A moment later, she saw a menu appear with six options. The terminal had to translate them and she tapped her foot, anxiety compelling her to motion. Behind her, the conflict raged on. She dared a look and the numbers did not seem to diminish at all.
“I’m out!” Trias shouted, switching to her side arm. Deva hurried over and gave her a magazine and set her rifle down beside them. “I’m good again!”
“Keep it up,” Lhar said. “But be as conservative as you can with what you’ve got.”
Deva hurried back to the terminal and swallowed hard. Maybe I should close the door. She didn’t think the enemies could get in. Not for a long while. Of course, what would happen when they had to leave? She’d give Lhar and his people a chance to tell her when to do so and instead focus on the task at hand.
The menu finished translating and Deva squinted up at it. Despite the size, the words were hard to make out against a dark blue background. The font was an off white color, with the top box flashing. An animated background made it all the more confusing as yellow lines pulsed in various, seemingly random directions.
Status. Power Core. Relays. Planetary Alignment. Log Files. Messages.
Deva tapped the power core button and a wall of technical data appeared. Her computer translated that much quicker as it didn’t seem to be an embedded graphic. It expressed that the energy supply was operating at eighty-eight percent efficiency and with a little maintenance could be back to ninety-nine in short order.
Apparently, the relays needed adjustment but all things considered, Deva figured they didn’t need to worry about that yet.
“Show me the log files,” Clea said. “Wait! Check status. I would’ve assumed what we just read fell under that option so this will be interesting.”
Deva complied, tilting her head as a message sprawled across the screen.
All projectors are online and functioning normally. Scanning thoughts…worry. Fear. Terror. Adjusting accordingly.
“What’s that mean?” Deva hummed.
“Log files now,” Clea said. “Hurry.”
Deva tapped those instead and stepped back as another wall of text displayed.
Situation One: worry about the enemy they are warring with. Calculating…War Class Fighter Devaran Ilatha. Forming and deploying.
Situation Two: Ilatha not performing as expected. Calculating…adjusting tactics based on known behavior.
Situation Three: wondering where the enemy might be coming from. Advanced culture. They have blocked all thoughts of the simulation for immersion. Calculating…deploying Devaran War Band.
Situation Four: continued concern about source of enemy. Poor rating expected for experience. Calculating…deploying Devaran battleship.
Situation Five: skepticism. Poor rating guaranteed. Calculating…deploying additional Devaran battleships.
Situation Six: arrival. New space vessel has entered system. Odds have turned. Calculating…deploy more forces. Ground…deployed. Air…deployed. Space…deployed. Double them to provide challenge.
Situation Seven: prepare survey for opinion results. Offer apologies for the slow turn around of many services. Apologize for not creating accurate simulation.
“This is a game!” Deva shook her head. “The enemy wasn’t projecting…this thing was doing it! How?
“That doesn’t matter,” Clea said. “Go back to the main screen. Hm.”
“There’s no button that says stop.” Deva checked her computer for any additional information but that was it. “What do we do?”
“Hit Relays,” Clea replied. “Hurry.”
Deva tapped the button and a map of the planet appeared with glowing points, presumably showing where the relays were. Another set of commands showed at the top, each representing the different facilities. When she tried one of them, it offered her several options for adjustment. She clicked one but a message appeared.
Must be in maintenance mode to proceed.
Deva heard Clea chuckle.
“That’s it,” Clea said. “The far left. Click that button.”
It said Administrator. She tried it and various selections came up. Reboot. Maintenance Mode. Standby.
She tapped the second one but a message came up. Active simulation in progress. Are you sure?
“Yes! I’m way sure!” Deva tapped it again.
Negative survey results are guaranteed. Please confirm.
“C’mon!” Deva hit it again. “Yes, go go go!”
Soft shutdown initiated. Please wait.
“No!” Deva looked around frantically for another way to proceed.
“Slow down,” Clea said. “I know your stressed down there but think about it for a moment. If it just shut down suddenly, it could cause some damage to the power core. And since you’re standing on it, believe me, you want it to take the time it needs. I’m going to check the scans up here and see if it’s working. Hang tight.”
“Hold on, everyone!” Deva shouted. “We might have something!”
“What could it possibly be?” Lhar asked.
“A miracle,” Deva replied, unable to stop smiling. “A real miracle.”
***
Meagan zeroed in on another target, getting tone. She was about to hit the trigger when the thing literally vanished. “Oh, come on!” She shouted. “Are you flippin’ kidding me right now?” Mick, did you see that?”
“Yeah, just happened to me too…” Ships began disappearing all around them, winking out of existence. Half the enemy fighter fleet was gone in an instant while the rest flashed out over the next several moments. They were suddenly alone out there with the four battleships and that was it.
Incredible, Meagan thought. What happened?
“Deploying bombs,” Rudy called over the com. “All payloads.”
That’ll put an end to those battleships. Meagan looked around, regaining her wits. “Giant control, we need search and rescue out here to grab our disabled pilots. It appears that the fight is over.”
“Acknowledged, return to the Behemoth for further instructions.”
“You heard them,” Meagan sa
id to the rest of her wing. Confusion still clung heavily to her as they started flying back. “I hope someone knows what just happened because that will definitely go down as the strangest moment of my military career.”
“Won’t get an argument from me,” Mick replied. “If the bombers successfully take out those ships, we might actually have won this one.”
“Quite a miracle.” Meagan shook her head. She ached to the bone and couldn’t wait to get out of her cockpit. If half the pilots in her wing felt the same way, they all needed some serious downtime. Not just physically either. Witnessing what they had, seeing those enemies disappear…it would stick with them.
Lord knows we’ll be asked for a psyche eval. Can’t wait.
***
Adam tapped Gray’s arm, drawing him from his own reports. “All enemy fighters are just…gone. They disappeared.”
“Incredible.” Gray looked up at the screen. The enemy battleships were still out there, still firing. “What about them? What’s going on there?”
“Our bombers have just deployed their payloads,” Adam replied, “they should make contact—” He fell silent as the ships disappeared…not exploded but were simply gone. Vanished like the fighters. “They’re…we won!”
Leonard slumped in his chair in relief but Olly kept working hard. No one on the bridge seemed to have a celebration in them. Gray stood up, frowning at the screen. “I assume Clea will have an explanation for what we just witnessed. Definitely one of the more intense moments of my military career.”
“Captain,” Olly said, “I’ve got some bad news. Those ships disappeared before our bombs made contact.”
“Okay?” Adam shrugged. “So what?”
“They’re heading right for the planet.”