The universe flashed without warning and the multicolored kaleidoscope of hyperspace filled what part of Jack’s vision wasn’t temporarily light-fried. Jack licked his lips, blinked the stars out of his eyes, looked around, and made certain the entire squadron still existed. Two drones hadn’t made it, but all the Avengers still lived. Another scan showed that one of the Peloran destroyers wasn’t anywhere he could see.
“Wow,” Jack whispered. “That was…”
“Crazy?”
“Intense.”
The squadron continued to accelerate, cutting through the gravity bands of hyperspace without pity.
“How about a warning before the next time?” Jack asked as the squadron began to arc around.
“OK, Jack,” Betty said with a smile. “Warning.”
Jack closed his eyes, his eyelids glowed, and he opened them again to see the Shang fleet from a whole new perspective. Flaming atmosphere poured out of a third of the Shang warships, and half of those spun out of formation, power flickering or out altogether.
“How in Hell?” Jack whispered as the Battle Squadron flew back into the Shang fleet in time with another missile salvo. Gravitic cannons opened fire again, this time focused on a single target. His own fighter thrummed with power as their gravitic cannons joined the assault, and the most powerful warship in the Shang fleet ripped apart.
A swarm of missiles swatted the remaining Peloran destroyer out of formation, spinning out of control. Kinetic lances ripped all the way through three more Shang cruisers and they belched atmosphere and bodies. Shang fighters swarmed them from all directions. The images came faster and faster as the battle devolved, until Jack simply couldn’t track everything fast enough. There were too many ships, too many missiles, too much everything, to even try to keep looking for threats.
He swallowed, took a deep breath, and Jasmine’s fighter exploded. “Frak,” he whispered and just stopped trying to see anything. He breathed out, forced himself to remain calm, and focused on absolutely nothing. He saw an attack coming from the starboard and pulled the stick to the left. The fighter screamed around him and their right wing ripped off.
“Nothing to worry about, Jack!” Betty shouted. “Just a flesh wound.”
A gravitic cannon exploded in the distance. He didn’t focus on it. It wasn’t the Guardian Light. That was all that mattered to him. Well, that and the fact that it wasn’t him of course. Missiles streaked by. Fighters cartwheeled in the distance. An Avenger exploded nearby. A Shang shot in from below and he spun the fighter to rip it apart. A missile swarm came in from above and he dropped the fighter below their arc. He didn’t take time to think. He just moved, and their Avenger flew through the destruction like a wraith.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity but couldn’t have been more than ten seconds, Jack closed his eyes and the world flashed. He opened his eyes onto hyperspace and saw the Guardian Light floating alone, atmosphere streaming out of dozens of rents. As he watched, an overloaded gravitic cannon exploded, shedding armor plating all over space. The battle was over for them. Jack licked his lips and released the stick and throttle from trembling fingers.
“Whoa,” Jack whispered, let out a long breath, and tried to calm himself. Calm was a long time in coming. When it finally came, he felt a scarf held tight around his neck in the grip of both hands. “Frak,” he whispered as the realization of what that meant sank in.
Hello, my name is Jack. One good thing about being part of the military of one of the worlds’ greatest superpowers is that your handiwork gets plastered all over the net and people think it’s great. They think you’re a Big Damn Hero. When things start to get shaky is when they think they want to be a Big Damn Hero. Fact is, only the people who think they aren’t, want to be. The rest of us are just dodging bullets. Given a choice, I’ll take the bullet dodger any day of the week.
Big Damn Heroes
The rainbow hues of hyperspace surrounded the fighter, broken only by the Guardian Light and her fighter escorts. Jack leaned back in his seat, and shut his eyes. He didn’t want to think. He breathed in and out, holding the scarf wrapped around his neck, and forced himself to relax. The battle was over. He still lived. That was all that mattered.
He sighed, pulled in another breath, and opened his eyes. He scanned the screens showing the battle in normalspace. The Shang were gone, leaving a field of wreckage behind, the British, French, and Germans securing it with no difficulty. He shifted screens to confirm the locations of the surviving Cowboys. They’d lost an Avenger. He flicked his eyes over to the ready screen and saw Cowboy Eleven’s line faded. Bad Chad and Julie were gone. He scanned again to see that, yes, Jasmine’s fighter really had been destroyed. It had been her and Drew’s fighter and now it was gone too. He brought his eyes up to look at the cyber wearing her normal jeans and white tank top.
“I’m sorry, Jasmine.”
Jasmine shook her head, but still chewed her lip. “I know,” she answered with a sad smile. “But I can live without our fighter.” She sighed.
Jack placed a hand on the console next to her. “I’m still sorry.”
Jasmine smiled. “I know. Thank you,” she finished and laid her hand on his.
“Always,” Jack said with a nod.
“Cowboy One to all Cowboys,” Charles transmitted. “We have been recalled to the Guardian Light. Back to the barn!”
“On it,” Jack answered. He turned to the screen showing Ken, Jessie, and their drones on his flanks. “Buckaroo, Dutchman, you heard The Man,” he transmitted and brought the fighter around to close with the Guardian Light.
“I’m with you, boss,” Ken answered.
“Lead the way,” Jessie added.
They approached the battleship together, and Jack shook his head in amazement at the massive rents running up and down her hull. Even her weapons ring was dark and twisted, ripped entirely away from the warship in more locations than he could count. The Shang had done a true number on the warship. He doubted an American warship that took that much damage would still be moving under its own power at all. They flew into the battleship’s massive landing bay, and Jack’s eyes focused on the large tree at the end. It still felt strange to see a tree inside a warship, but it was beginning to grow on him. He sighed, relaxed back in his seat again, and watched Betty bring their Avenger down to a smooth landing next to the other Avengers. The cockpit opened and Jack popped his restraints.
“Betty?” he asked.
“Ready,” she answered with a sad smile.
“Thanks.” Jack jumped out, landing on the gravity wave next to the Avenger, and slid down it to the deck. He cocked his head to the side and frowned. It didn’t feel right to do that at the moment. He pulled in a deep breath and stepped away from the fighter. He scanned the Cowboys on the deck and saw their subdued actions. Nobody pantomimed brushes with death or amazing shots.
He stepped over to where Jay towered over the surviving Cowboys he’d led into battle. The pilots and cybers looked in shock, and Jack felt the urge to do something. He didn’t know what yet, but something had to be done. He clasped hands with Jay, looking up at the mountain of a man. “I’m sorry, Bull,” Jack said in a clear, strong voice.
Jay rumbled something under his breath and nodded. Winona put a hand on his arm and smiled at Jack. “Thank you,” she said and patted her pilot’s arm.
Jay pulled in a deep breath and Jack saw his eyes pop back into focus. “Let’s go,” he barked and made his way towards the lift.
Jack watched Jay’s Cowboys following and turned to Ken and Jessie. He jerked his head towards Jay and company, and the two nodded as they followed. Jack moved in their wake, timing his entry to match Charles. The doors closed behind him and Jack looked at Charles. Charles glanced towards Jay with troubled eyes, but didn’t say a word. Jack nodded and leaned back into the doors, his mind racing.
Bad Chad and Julie were dead. They could have lived centuries or more, and their deaths reminded Jack that it come calling for
any of them at any time. There was nothing they could do about that now, but go on and be ready to fight again. He glanced at Charles again and saw the worry in the man’s eyes again. The Cowboys weren’t in fighting trim right now. Charles set his jaw. He knew it too.
The lift came to a stop, Jack pushed himself off the doors, and they opened. He turned and walked out into Cowboy Country’s break room. Comfortable couches and chairs filled one area of it, while a pool table dominated one end. A mini-bar jutted out of one wall, and Jack strode towards it, a firm purpose in mind. The Cowboys needed a drink.
Jack grabbed several mugs from the cupboard, and began to fill them with the amazing honeyed ale the Peloran made. He took a sip from one mug, smiled, and continued filling the others. He checked to see that Jay and his people were already sitting, back to moping around. Charles stepped up, caught Jack’s eye with a look of approval, and grabbed two mugs. He carried them over to Jay’s men, then came back for two more.
The rest of the mugs disappeared into the hands of other Cowboys, some smiling, others frowning, and they made their way to the couches or chairs of their choice. Jack took his mug, topped it off again, and stepped away from the bar. He caught Betty’s gaze from across the room and she gave him an approving look. He strode over to his favorite chair and sprawled out in it, careful not to spill any of the thick Peloran drink.
Jack drank, scanning the Cowboys with each pull, and waited for something to happen. He didn’t know what would happen precisely. Maybe someone would say something stupid and a fight would break out. Or maybe someone would do something stupid, and a laugh would break out. He watched for signs, drank the amazing ale, and kept himself from smacking his lips. It wasn’t the right time. His gaze caught on Charles and the two looked at each for several seconds. Finally, Charles cracked a ghost of a smile.
Charles came to his feet, catching everyone’s attention. He walked over to The Wall where the other dead of the Cowboys rested. Without a word, he tapped the wall and small holograms of Chad and Julie flickered into existence next to the others. The Cowboys raised drinks to their fallen comrades. Cowboy Eleven would be missed, just as the others before them.
Finally, Charles cleared his throat. “May their names never be forgotten.”
“Oorah,” the Cowboys said in subdued tones and without exception took another gulp of their ale.
Jack frowned at the silence that followed. Movement caught his eye and he smiled as Jasmine and Betty walked over to his chair. They sat down in chairs on either side of him and Jack took another gulp of the ale.
“Julie…was gone before we got back,” Betty said, in a soft tone that carried throughout the silent room. Jack saw several eyes jerking to look at them, and then shifting away almost as quick.
Jack glanced at Jasmine. “I suppose that was the easiest way for her,” Jack returned softly, matching Betty’s tone and volume.
Jasmine nodded. “It was.” She returned his look and sighed.
Jack glanced around, gauging the atmosphere in the room. They were close to the edge, but not there yet. He touched the scarf with one hand and set his jaw. “Do you…regret it?” he asked, looking at Jasmine in the last instant.
“Yes…and no.” Jasmine shrugged. “I want to see her again, to see something new with her, to see her learn something. I miss the dawning look of comprehension in her eyes. I’ll never see that again, outside of memories. That hurts.” She sighed. “But…she was right.”
Jack cocked his head to the side, his interest truly captured in spite of his worry for the other Cowboys. “About what?”
“She said it would be different.” Jasmine smiled at Jack. “God knows, you’re different than she was.”
Jack felt something click in his mind and he smiled back at her. She’d given him the perfect opening to say something completely and utterly inappropriate and he could feel the timing was right. “Yeah, she had way better tits than me.”
Jasmine laughed. It was a laugh filled with grief and humor in equal measure. Ken and Jessie laughed as well, shaking their heads at Jack’s out-of-the-blue comment. Jack’s gaze flicked over to Charles, to see the man looking at Jay. Jack shifted his eyes over to see Jay staring back at him in shock. The lack of respect Jack showed at what amounted to a wake froze the big man for a second.
And then Jay laughed. “You bastard,” the big man rumbled, shaking his head. And then the rest of the Cowboys laughed, shaking their heads. It was a short laugh, only lasting a few seconds, but it broke the dam.
Jack chuckled with them until it died down, and took another drink from his mug. He looked at Charles to see a smile of approval. He felt a soft touch on his shoulder and turned to see a matching look on Betty’s face. He took another drink, kept himself relaxed, and watched and listened as the Cowboys began to talk about Chad and Julie.
They spent the next several minutes drinking to their lost friends, talking in hushed tones. Jack smiled and joined in, letting the wake do what it was meant to do. They were never there for the dead. The dead didn’t care. Wakes were for the living, to give them a time to get over the loss. He emptied the drink, filled it at the mini-bar, and smiled as the Cowboys began to move on.
As the minutes stretched out to a quarter of an hour and beyond, the Cowboys grew louder and more animated. Hands pantomimed close escapes and amazing shots. The sound of men and women laughing, really laughing at amusing stories, filled the room as they remembered Chad and Julie’s lives.
Jack had just finished a story about a bar fight back in Texas, when Betty tapped him on the shoulder. He looked at her and she moved her head to the side, pointing out his favorite chair. He smiled and followed her hint, sitting down in it and relaxing as she occupied the chair next to him. He aimed a questioning look at her.
Betty smiled and looked back at the group of Cowboys.
Jack followed her gaze and saw Charles and Dorothy already occupying their seats. He shifted his eyes to watch as Winona pulled Jay over to his couch, and the two sat down as well. Jack chewed his lower lip and watched as, one by one, cybers guided their pilots out of the discussion. He smiled and patted Betty’s hand. They did it masterfully, one pilot at a time, letting the wake slow down to silence across the span of minutes.
After the last Cowboy sat down, Charles stood up again and cleared his throat. “I know this is a hard time for all of us.”
The Cowboys nodded and most took another gulp from their mugs. Jack smiled. It was a good thing the Peloran ale wasn’t very intoxicating, or they’d be in serious trouble by now.
“It will not get any easier,” Charles added. “So, are you ready to get back into The War?” he asked in a serious tone.
He received several subdued nods and seemed to accept that as good enough.
“Good. Because if you were not, I would have told you tough luck and to be ready,” he said in a dangerous tone.
The Cowboys laughed and saluted him with their mugs.
“Good,” he said with a smile and paused for several seconds. He finally let out a long breath, nodded, and began to speak again. “I have received some interesting reports that could affect The War and you need to know them.”
The Cowboys sat up straighter in their chairs and couches.
“Based on those reports, only twenty-four of the Shang ships escaped. We are going to need to watch for them, but their strength is broken for now. We do not know how many ships they have out in the colony regions, but we have accounted for the vast majority of every single ship we believe they have near Earth.”
Jack smiled and took another sip from his mug. It was good to see the Shang reduced after what they did to Yosemite.
“Our estimates on the Chinese are more complete,” Charles continued. “We know we just destroyed their entire Earth-based fleet. They may have twenty warships left within fifty lightyears of Earth. They will need to call in fleets from the colony regions to make up these losses, and that will take weeks, if not months. Unless both they and the Sha
ng are hiding something, I believe we have bought ourselves enough time for the Peloran Battle Fleets to arrive.”
“Oorah,” several of the Cowboys said. Jack smiled and drank more ale.
Charles smiled at them and raised a hand before continuing. “The important thing is that since we controlled the fields of battle, we obtained the salvage. I received estimates that up to fifty of the Chinese and Shang warships are in repairable condition. Aneerin has claimed ten of the Shang ships too damaged to move far, but with working fabricators, to use as the nexus for a new repair base. The British, French, and Germans are claiming the rest, and intend to refit them for use against our enemies. This will take months at best though. In the meantime, we have to rebuild our own combat effectiveness. I have been working on reinforcements to make up our combat losses. It has been…complicated,” he finished with a wince.
“How?” Jack asked and took another swig from his mug.
Charles rubbed his chin. He finally grunted and shook his head. He sat down on the arm of a chair and sighed. “I will be honest here. The nets all over the Terran and Alpha Centauri systems are full of our battle footage right now. At Fort Wichita, we rose out of hyperspace and blew away the Shang flank.” Charles shook his head again. “The talking heads are saying we saved the Peloran with that maneuver.”
Jay grumbled something that Jack couldn’t translate. It was probably in Navajo, but Jack understood exactly what he meant. He was willing to bet that if Jay’s momma was here she’d be washing his mouth out with soap right now.
“I could not agree more,” Charles answered with a wry smile. “Then we fought beside the Peloran and saved the British. Every red blooded American likes to remember all the times we saved their asses.” Charles rubbed his forehead as the Cowboys chuckled. “And then we destroyed a Chinese squadron without help, incidentally while taking the pressure off another British fleet. And I can tell you that the net is full of our latest escapade, flying through the middle of what they are reporting as the Shang Grand Fleet and ripping it apart. Once again saving the British’ collective asses.”
Forge of War (Jack of Harts) Page 22