by Linn Schwab
* * * *
Jenny looked up at the belly pod as one of the technicians finished bolting it to her fighter. “Is it ready?” she asked over the noise in the hangar.
“As ready as it’ll ever be,” the girl said.
The answer didn’t instill a lot of confidence in Jenny. What is that supposed to mean? she wondered. “Does it work, though?” she asked, almost fearing the answer.
Genevieve quietly appeared at her side, still wiping some grease from her hands with a towel. “Oh, it definitely works,” she insisted. “We switched it on for a few seconds to try it out, and the girls up in the control room gave us hell for it.” She shrugged and offered up a guilt–ridden wince. “I guess we probably should’ve given them some warning before knocking out all of their radio frequencies.”
Jenny spun about on her heels and headed for the nearest intercom panel.
* * * *
Virginia was relaxing in the lounge when Jenny’s voice came over the intercom system.
“Squadrons Eighty–Two and One–Seventeen, report to the hangar for immediate launch.”
Along with the rest of the Hornets, she made her way to the elevator shaft and arrived in the hangar a moment later. Jenny greeted the pilots as they entered from the corridor and gathered them together to address them all at once.
“Alright, girls,” she said when all of them were present, “our mission is to capture an enemy pilot and bring him back to Volaris for questioning. I know you’re all aware of what occurred here recently, when our offer to engage in direct talks went unanswered. And I’m sure that every one of us is wondering whether their failure to show up at the meeting was intentional, or if something went wrong that prevented them from doing so.”
From where she was standing in the middle of the pack, Virginia saw several of the girls nod their heads. Clearly they agreed with Jenny’s reasoning.
“Well,” she continued, “this may be our best chance to find out. To put an end to the uncertainty, one way or another.”
Captain Sinclair stepped forward, gesturing for some semblance of caution with her hands. “Jenny,” she said, “what Virginia managed to accomplish was truly inspiring. But the chances of that happening again are slim. Finding an isolated pilot is unlikely enough, much less finding one with both of his engines shot out.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Jenny conceded. “But I think I may have a solution to that problem.”
Virginia suddenly found herself intrigued. Subduing an enemy pilot wouldn’t be easy. What could her captain possibly be scheming?
“Look,” Jenny tried to explain her thinking, “...we fly fighter patrols around our fleets to make sure nothing catches us off guard, right? I’m just taking a wild guess that they do the same. It seems like it should be a common sense precaution. My plan is to sneak up on an enemy fleet and try to ambush one of their fighter patrols. Hopefully we can isolate one of their pilots, and drive him further away from the fleet, where we can surround him and coerce him into flying back here with us. I’ve had a jamming device installed on my plane so we can block his transmissions the instant we attack, and keep him from alerting anyone what we’re up to. If it works, I’m hoping we can pull back to a safe distance before anyone even realizes he’s missing.”
A swell of optimism seemed to bolster the pilots. Virginia saw a grin appear on Captain Sinclair’s face. “That just might work,” Charlie conceded. “Have you cleared this plan with Commander Eldridge?”
“No,” Jenny said, “but Major Richards has already given us the go–ahead. We’re gonna fly out to the Zephyr first and refuel, then sneak around the tip of Pangea from there, and try to locate the fleet that keeps threatening us.”
Charlie nodded and turned around to face the other pilots. “Alright,” she said, “you heard her, girls. Let’s mount up and get under way.”
As both squadrons began moving toward their fighters, Jenny stepped in front of Virginia and blocked her path. “How’s the shoulder?” she asked, exhibiting concern.
“It’s much better now,” Virginia assured her. Without warning, Jenny reached for her shoulder and squeezed, causing her to wince and shirk in pain.
“Uh–huh,” Jenny said, now entirely unconvinced. “You’re staying here. I don’t want you flying into combat again until that shoulder is fully healed.”
“But...” Virginia tried to protest.
“Forget it,” Jenny said, walking toward her fighter. “You’re gonna have to sit this one out.”
Virginia sulked and let out a sigh, upset over being left behind. It bothered her that she wouldn’t be there for the others, to watch over them and keep them out of harm’s way. I’m ready, she tried to convince herself, but the pain was still there when she rubbed her arm. As she stood there battling feelings of guilt, she noticed Zoe had apparently come back to console her.
“Hey,” Zoe said, trying to offer some support. She pulled out her personal archive interface and placed it firmly in Virginia’s hands. “Find us another story like the last one. With elves, and dwarves, and magic things.” She smiled and hurried off to join the others. Within seconds, the hangar was alive with engine noise, and the planes began heading single file toward the airlock. Virginia watched every last one of them leave, then returned to the lounge to begin the long wait. At a minimum, she knew they’d be gone for several hours — an eternity to languish in worry and helplessness.
* * * *
Jay’s squadron crept up on the target area and paused for a moment to survey their surroundings.
“Looks pretty quiet,” Thomas observed.
“We wouldn’t be going out there if it wasn’t,” Jay said. The empty expanse in front of his fighter seemed to taunt him, as if daring him to cross some imaginary line, and return to the field of slaughter that had proven so costly.
“Needle in a haystack,” Angelo complained.
Jay found himself quietly nodding in agreement. “Switch your scanners to optical settings only, and start searching for indications of metallic surfaces.”
“Trouble is,” Angelo reminded him, “most of the metal in this area is ours. And most of the blood, and...” He fell silent.
“Yeah,” Jay said, then fell silent as well. There was nothing more that needed saying. “Let’s split up and search the area in pairs. Maybe that’ll speed things up a little. Thomas and I will go long and deep. Angelo, you and Jason stick close to the asteroid field. Try to use it as cover as best you can. If you see anything that looks like enemy activity, turn around and get the hell out of here, fast.”
“Yes, sir,” Angelo replied.
“Alright,” Jay said. “Let’s get moving. When your fuel reserves are down to twenty–five percent, head back to the fleet, whether you’ve heard from us or not.”
* * * *
The refueling on the Zephyr went as planned, and before long the Hornets were on the move again. Shortly after entering the asteroid field, Jenny spotted a destroyer coming their way. Seconds later she received a call from the ship.
“Sentinel fighters, this is the CVS Terrapin. Captain Carly Russell, speaking.”
“This is Captain McNeil,” Jenny said. “Is there something I can help you with, Captain?”
“Captain McNeil,” Carly said, “I’m so glad you’re here. We were just about to transmit a message to Volaris. We’ve been observing some movement off the tip of Pangea, but we’re not sure what to make of it. Whatever’s out there, it’s too small to be a ship. And if it’s fighters, we don’t dare get any closer without an escort.”
Jenny felt a burst of excitement inside her. This was almost too good to be true. If there were indeed enemy fighters nearby, there might be no need for them to track down a fleet, and expose themselves to an onslaught of gunfire. She looked to her left and saw Charlie smiling back at her, obviously thinking the same thing she was. “Thank you, Captain Russell,” she said. “Maintain radio silence for now, and stand by to help cover our retreat if
needed.”
“Understood. Terrapin, out.”
“Switch to infrared communications only,” Jenny ordered. “Let’s not give them any warning we’re coming.” She turned her fighter toward the tip of Pangea and smiled as the others followed her lead. The formation of fighters snaked its way between the rocks, winding ever closer to its unsuspecting prey, preparing to lash out with a sudden, swift strike. It didn’t take long to make visual contact. Two enemy fighters. Only two of them! She reached for the jamming device control, and in the space of a heartbeat, the chase was on.
The two Earth fighters veered off and tried to make a run for it, but couldn’t build up speed quick enough to get away. When it became clear that they were both going to be overtaken, they ducked inside the asteroid field in desperation, and tried to shake their pursuers by weaving between the rocks. The Sentinel fighters swarmed in behind them, keeping the pressure on, and forcing their quarry to take ever steeper risks as they fled through the treacherous obstacle course.
Eventually, the Hornets’ patience paid off. As the fleeing pilots rounded a large asteroid, a cluster of smaller rocks appeared in their way, forcing them to separate and follow different paths.
Jenny’s heart was racing now. This was exactly the chance she’d been hoping for. “Let’s split up!” she ordered. “We’ll focus on capturing the one who veered right, and try to keep the other one from circling back to him!”
The Hornets peeled off into two main groups with each pilot simply following the target closest to her. After a moment it became clear that it wasn’t a clean break. Both groups contained pilots from each of the two squadrons.
“Pair up as best you can,” Jenny ordered. “I don’t want anyone getting left behind in here.” This won’t be a problem, she assured herself. Most of us have been flying together for years.
* * * *
“Mayday, mayday!” Angelo yelled into his microphone. “Jason and I have come under attack!” The radio gave him nothing but static. Long range communications were still being jammed.
He cursed and looked frantically over his shoulder, trying to guess how many fighters were still pursuing him. It looked as if most of them had gone after Jason. At first glance, only five of them were still on his tail.
Five against one, he told himself. Maybe I can fight my way out of here now. Curiously, the enemy hadn’t fired a shot yet. They must be conserving their ammo, he decided. Maybe they were launching a large scale assault, and we just happened to get in their way. He decided he somehow had to warn Jay and Thomas, even if it meant leaving Jason behind.
“Jason,” he said, “can you hear me, buddy?” He waited, but there was no response. Either Jason was already dead by now, or the two of them were out of infrared communications range.
* * * *
Virginia felt someone shaking her awake. Her eyes opened to a view of the observation lounge. Must’ve dozed off, she realized. She was still curled up on one of the benches where she’d tried to relax as she awaited the return of her squadron. From the depth of the sleep she was waking from, she could tell that several hours had passed. Lieutenant Marlowe was leaning down over her, peering directly into her eyes.
“Virginia, wake up!” Veronica insisted. It was difficult to interpret the look on her face through the fuzzy vision that followed deep slumber.
As Virginia sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she heard the sound of hastening footsteps in the distance. Someone was in a hurry to get somewhere. “What’s happening?” she said, suddenly concerned.
Veronica tendered a cautious smile. “They’re coming back!” she said, then broke into a grin and exclaimed, “They got one!”
What followed was a blur of walking and running and dodging personnel on her way to the hangar. When she arrived there, she could see that she’d missed out on something. The enemy pilot had already climbed out of his plane. He was standing close to the center of the hangar, surrounded by Sentinels on every side. The encounter had the look of an uneasy standoff, with both sides exchanging anxious, silent stares. Since no one appeared to be willing to speak, Virginia pushed her way through the crowd, determined to get a closer look at their captive.
Several of the Hornets had gathered in around him, though they were careful to remain safely out of his reach. As Virginia joined her squadron members at the front, she noticed several of them were holding large wrenches behind their backs, presumably for use as weapons if necessary. She positioned herself between Jenny and Nancy, and analyzed the enemy pilot’s appearance. He looked younger than Dave, and more uncertain. There was a definite display of fear in his eyes. A name was embroidered on the front of his flight suit, just as Dave’s name had been embroidered on his. Lt. Jason Elliot. But there was something different that caught her eye. A small emblem, slightly offset from his name. An emblem that distinctly resembled a shark tooth.
Virginia’s eyes shifted to the pilot’s plane, parked off to her right a short distance away. A fit of rage took her when she saw the shark teeth. A shudder of anger passed through her body. Before she even had time to think, she snatched a wrench out of Jenny’s hand and rushed toward the pilot, raising it aloft, intent on battering him to a pulp.
A pair of hands grasped her right arm from behind, then a second pair latched onto her left arm as well, restraining her before she had a chance to strike. “Noooooo!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, fighting to break free with all of her might. “Kill him!” she sobbed, squirming and thrashing, but Jenny and Nancy pulled her in tight, and proceeded to drag her out of the room. The whole way, she kept her eyes fixed on his face as he looked back at her in shock and surprise. Kill him! her own voice kept repeating in her mind. We have to kill him! We have to kill him!
Outside the hangar, Jenny found a bench and planted Virginia firmly in its seat. “We didn’t bring him here to kill him,” she calmly explained. “You’re gonna have to put your hatred on hold for a while.”
Virginia closed her eyes and cried, picturing squadron 57 in her thoughts. After a moment, the hangar doors opened again, and a procession of Sentinels, including Major Richards, passed by her escorting the captured pilot. Most likely on their way to the infirmary, she figured. Jenny and Nancy both remained by her side until the object of her hatred was safely out of sight. She watched him pass. He eyed her with concern, as if expecting her to leap to her feet and attack him.
When he was gone, Nancy sat down beside Virginia and wrapped a consoling arm around her. “Remember,” she said, “this is important. We’re trying to stop the fighting, Virginia.”
She lowered her head and tried to relax, focusing her efforts on cooling her temper. After a moment, Jenny and Nancy walked away, leaving her to wrestle with her own inner demons.
CAPTIVE 084
“What’s that for?” Jason asked nervously as the woman in the black dress poked a needle in his arm.
“Just a blood sample,” she assured him. “Don’t worry, I won’t take enough to kill you. By the way, you can call me Major Richards.”
“Jason Elliot,” he said with a respectful nod. He took a deep breath and tried to relax as she finished the draw and extracted the needle. “Any reason in particular you need a blood sample?”
The major shrugged. “Do you object to giving one?”
He watched her place the sample in a refrigerator unit. It’s a little late to ask me that now, he thought. “I guess it beats having my skull caved in,” he said, then glanced through the open doors of the infirmary. Several females were still standing guard outside, armed with shiny open end wrenches in sizes larger than he cared to think about. To his relief, he didn’t see “her” standing there — “her” being the girl who’d attacked him in the hangar.
He’d recognized “her” as soon as he’d seen her, weaving her way through the crowd toward him. Her hostility had taken him completely by surprise, yet it seemed that she didn’t recognize his face. It was the markings on his plane that appeared to set her off. He g
lanced down at the shark tooth emblem on his chest, and wondered if she even suspected they’d previously engaged one another in combat.
“Mr. Elliot,” Major Richards said, “I have some important questions for you.”
He sat up straight and steeled himself to resist revealing crucial information, regardless of whatever interrogation practices she might use.
“First of all,” the major said — and she seemed to be struggling to get the question out — “are you familiar with Lieutenant Dave Samuels?”
What? Jason thought, both surprised and confused. Is she trying to trip me up with trick questions? he wondered. He’d expected her to grill him on more strategic matters, such as the size and disposition of the forces in his fleet. “No,” he replied. “Never heard of him.”
“Are you sure?” the major pressed. “He’s one of your pilots.”
“One of our pilots? If he’s one of our pilots, then how would you know him?”
“Same way I know you, Mr. Elliot. He was here not more than a few days ago. We released him with an offer to negotiate a truce, but we never received a reply from your leaders.”
Jason’s head started spinning now. Could what she was saying actually be true? Or was she just misleading him in the hopes he’d reveal secrets her forces could exploit. In the back of his mind he remembered hearing something, though. A rumor was circulating through the fleet recently. A missing pilot returning to his ship had met with a decidedly unfortunate fate. “Would you happen to know,” he asked, “which ship this Lieutenant Samuels was stationed on?”
The major shook her head. “He didn’t say. Not that I can remember, anyway.”
By now, Jason was beginning to suspect that he knew what had happened to Lieutenant Samuels. But he could tell from the look in the major’s eyes that she clearly had feelings for the missing pilot, which made it somewhat awkward to be open and honest with her. “Look,” he finally said to her, “I really hate to tell you this, but I think your pilot friend might be dead. I heard a rumor that a pilot died recently while attempting to return to his carrier, following a lengthy unexplained absence. I’m not clear on all of the details, I’m afraid. And like I said, it might just be a rumor. But someone apparently thought it seemed suspicious, and posed a possible threat to our forces. One thing I can tell you for certain is that we just revised our recovery procedure for pilots who get separated from their squadrons. A smaller ship will be sent out to retrieve them now, to minimize threats to the rest of the fleet. That would seem to suggest that the rumor is true.”