by Ava D. Dohn
* * *
The medical officer had loaded well over two thousand wounded aboard the Gorsbee. All the galleys, cabins, and corridors were filled, making any sort of travel about the ship difficult. Captain Beutra Sega watched the navigation screen as they skimmed low over the landscape. He didn’t like traveling this way, especially during war. A rogue missile or enemy fighter could be devastating. Still, it kept them below the radar, unlike conditions in the upper atmosphere.
The communications officer called the captain over. “We are getting a lot of chatter from Memphis. It appears that Legion is running his campaign from his fortress.”
The captain angrily sputtered. “He controls everything his people do! Puppet master - that’s what he is. If you could knock him out of the game, his whole army would fall apart…” He paused, as if struck by something. “Gunnery!” The captain shouted down to his battle bridge.
The battle bridge officer hurried over, answering up to the captain, “Yes, sir?!”
“Send our babies out to protect mother and ready all torpedo tubes with armor-piercing plasma missiles.” He added, “And prepare a second round of them but make them static-hellfire, got it?”
The battle bridge officer acknowledged and hurried away to carry out her duties.
The captain grinned. “Let’s see what that fortress is really made of... Being below his radar, we may be able to sneak in right on top of his before he knows we’re there. With all the warring above, he won’t be expecting a ship like ours arriving on his doorstep.”
With a groan, the Gorsbee veered toward the north, on another against orders mission.