by Will Crudge
“I found you and brought you back to the Hailstorm.” Darius stroked her matted brown hair.
“Found me?” Kara asked. She realized she really didn’t have a clue what had happened. She reached back into her mind, but her fatigued brain wouldn’t allow for it. She could only recall flashes of combat. The occasional image of Jimma and Sasha entered her awareness.
“Jimma! Is she alright?” Kara said with wide eyes glaring.
“Yes, she’s fine.” Darius nodded. “In fact, she says you were the one who saved her.”
“Me?” Kara tilted her head and gave Darius an interrogative expression. “And exactly how would I save her?”
“She didn’t say.” Darius shook his head. “Sasha seemed to agree with her. I guess you can ask her yourself soon enough.”
Kara decided that thinking about it just made her head throb. The med Nano was dulling her pain, but the pressure of her swollen bits were all too visceral. She just collapsed onto Darius’ chest, and he wrapped his hulking arms around her. She didn’t even care that her cheek was pressed up against cold metal. She was just glad that the man of her dreams was on the other side of it.
Never Die Angry
Location: UAHC Battleship, Hailstorm, CIC, Tangine Space
Date Time: Post Interstellar 08/04/4201 2300 UAHC Standard Zulu
System: Sol, Mid Region
The image of wrecked HAL launchers were difficult to see amongst the wrecked hulls of Crimson ships. The initial sequence of charges had destroyed the HAL power generators, and thus creating a shockwave of debris and burning atmosphere from the ruined section of the stations outer surface. The explosions had caused a cascading power surge, and subsequent explosions that ripped out into space… and taking out hundreds of fighters, support ships, and light frigates along with it.
The secondary sequence of charges had destroyed the HAL’s themselves. Each one of the launchers had a building number of smaller vessels trying to filter in an assumed a tight-fit formation. John didn’t know if the Air Force deep space expeditionary fighters could have withstood a second wave of launches or not. He just was grateful that the Air Force had responded at all.
He reminded himself that the Air Force was only maintaining a space-based fighter force by government mandate only. Centuries of marketing themselves as nothing more than atmospheric patrol and law enforcement for terrestrial planets, was what saved them from being dismantled after the last war. They were allowed to maintain their traditional system of commissioned officers, and a separate enlisted corps. The Fleet Forces and ground-pounders were basically dismantled, and rebuilt in some pseudo-Spartan social experiment.
Reserve forces were essentially dismantled in the process. The only legal equivalent to a reserve force that the UAHC military was allowed to maintain, was a large number of Soldiers that were placed into inactive status. It was always marketed to the political elite, as a standby source of man-power in the event of interplanetary emergency response. But inactive Soldiers were allowed to keep and maintain their armor, and they were required to periodically turn in their archived medical data.
But John let his mind’s wandering come to an end. There was a battle to win, after all. He also had shattered squadron of crippled ships to recover. Most of the flight-worthy ships that remained were devoid of ammunition, or low on fuel depending on the hull type. There was no tactical value in keeping his battered men and women in the line of fire. They’d done their duty. Now it was time for the Hailstorm to avenge his fallen men and women.
The Crimson Fleet was funneling out of the taxiways faster than expected. They were already converging in their pre-planned attack formations. Even though the enemy was well within weapons range, John decided to hold off on an active engagement as long as possible. He figured that if the Hailstorm began pommeling the enemy, then they would respond in kind. Having incoming missiles, energy beams, or KEPL rounds would only make their tattered remnants of the squadron be vulnerable before they could berth in relative safety.
Patience would have to win the day, John decided. He wouldn’t put his own people in jeopardy like the Crimson’s own strategic doctrine allowed for. He shook his head slightly as he thought of all the barbaric tactics that the Crimson Alliance had chosen up until this point.
“Sir, the Crimson have transitioned a dozen heavy cruisers and at least one dreadnaught into slip-space.” Fin reported.
“I’m not surprised, Ensign.” John nodded. “They’re not making any attempt at hiding their plans. Especially since we’ve uncloaked.”
“What do you think they’ll do, Sir?” Fin asked. Normally it wouldn’t be an Ensign’s place to directly ask a commanding Admiral a question like that. But John didn’t mind. His crew deserved to exercise their humanity. Especially when they were in the sights of a fleet of animals.
“War Master?” John turned to Jep. “Would you like to answer the question?”
“Certainly, Admiral.” Jep nodded in response, and then looked at the young Ensign. “They’re just surrounding us. They’re using FTL to quickly disperse their forces in a tight bubble around us. If they execute the maneuver properly, then we should see them re-emerged from slip-space in unison and have every possible avenue of escape covered.” Jep spoke as if he were calmly giving a lecture in a University.
Fin just nodded. “That’s what I figured, but I second guessed myself.”
“How so?” Jep asked.
“I figured it was too obvious.” Fin shrugged.
Jep smiled and put his hand on Fin’s armored shoulder. “Sometimes, the absence of deception is effective deception in of itself! Besides, they have us outnumbered one hundred to one. Why bother winning by deceit, when you can just cruise right in and smash your outnumbered enemy like a bug!” Jep laughed.
“I suppose you’re right.” Fin just raised his eyebrows. “At least we have three fully operational Air Force Squadrons to watch our flanks.”
“Good for you!” Jep said with an approving nod. “Stay positive... even in the face of certain death! There’s no point in dying angry!”
This guy must be a War Master, after all! Fin smiled. He even decided it didn’t hurt to push back his own fears, and he reached down to scratch Growls’ belly. But the gigantic wolf just curled his lips to reveal six-inch fangs instead.
“Seriously?” Growl’s voice module bolstered the wolf’s own larynx and facial gestures in order to form human speech. Fin yanked his arm back up in sheer terror. Jep just began laughing hardily.
“S-sorry, Mr. Wolf… I – I don’t know your name… sorry.” Fin’s face went pale in terror, and Jep’s laughed died down.
“I’m just fucking with you,” Growl grumbled but didn’t even lift his head from the deck’s surface. “You can scratch my belly, if it makes you feel better about dying.”
“Aren’t you worried too?” Fin looked down at the fully relaxed wolf.
“Why should I be? I’m not an atheist… besides, what’s the point in dying tired? I might as well nap, and get my belly rubbed.” Growl replied, and then his mouth formed a massive yawn. Dagger-like teeth were on full display, as the mighty beast relaxed back into his napping position once more.
“I didn’t think wolves… or any animals were religious.” Fin tilted his head in surprise.
“I didn’t say religious. I’m just not an atheist.” Growl mumbled. “Don’t get believing in divinity, and following religious doctrine mixed up… apples and oranges, buddy… apples and oranges.”
“No need in debating spiritualism at the moment, my boy!” Val Said as he walked up within a few paces of Fin’s workstation. The Ensign’s eyes scanned the ancient monk up and down. Val could sense a deep level of curiosity building up inside the man’s mind.
“Are you some kind of Life Priest?” Fin asked inquisitively.
Val just smiled and gave a half nod. “Something like that, I suppose.”
“Where is your nine-pointed medallion?”
“Oh, I d
on’t have one,” Val said empathetically. “I’m… more of an academic… of sorts.”
“You’re wearing the typical hand-woven simple garbs of a Life Priest, so I just assumed.” Fin shrugged. “My parents were Lifers, so I grew up listening to sermons of peace, and love, blah – blah – blah…” Then Fin immediately stopped himself, and his face slightly flushed red. Val could tell the young man made the words slip out, and he seemed embarrassed that he’d offended the monk.
“Trust me, I know what you mean!” Val chuckled. “I’m Val, by the way.”
“Ensign Fin. Nice to meet you… but I have to ask…” Fin’s head tilted, and his eyes went into a half squint. “What is clergy doing on the CIC of a UAHC ship… in the middle of a battle?”
Val just chuckled, and then folded his hands behind his back. “Because, my boy… I’m the Sovereign of Unum.” Val winked.
Fin’s posture stiffened, and he seemed to hesitate. He was obviously trying to decide what protocol he needed to follow in regard to addressing an allied head of state.
Val just raised a single palm. “It’s alright, young man. I’m anything but formal.”
Fin relaxed a bit, and then released a nervous breath. “So – So, why is a Lifer clergy member the head of state of Unum? Seems totally opposite from Lifer teachings.”
“Oh, you mean the fact that Unum is the largest supplier of military and law enforcement tech in the entire human sphere?”
“Exactly! You guys are supposed to be ‘anti-violence’ and all. Not to mention, you’re supposed to be non-materialistic. I was always thought that the means to ascend from the mortal shell and find enlightenment, was to reject any form of violence, wealth, or the pursuit of physical pleasures.”
“Yes, it is.” Val nodded. “But the modern Life Temple’s current doctrine is watered down from the original teachings. It was never intended to be a religion at all. It was only a system to follow in order for each human being to take control of their own lives, and seek truth from within. But the church evolved into the opposite of why I’d originally intended. Any teachings that didn’t seem relevant, was re-written. But no clergy will ever admit it… most of them are the products of several generations of indoctrination, and they’ve evolved into a more – external – form of organized religion.”
I’d originally intended. Those words stuck in Fin’s mind. He couldn’t fathom that this man had chosen those words intentionally. He figured that he might be from some fringe sect of the modern temple and couldn’t possibly have been around for thousands of years. “I never knew that.” Fin rubbed his chin, and appeared to stare off for a moment to let Val’s words sink in.
“So, what about you?” Val asked. “What do you believe?”
“Nothing.” Fin said. “I’m purely an atheist. Religion makes no practical sense… any of them. Christians, Buddhists, Sun-worshipers… they’re all deluded.”
Val just nodded. “Well, I’m not going to try and talk you out of your beliefs.”
Fin’s head tilted in confusion. “That’s odd… Normally that’s the first thing a Lifer does when I tell them that!”
Val chuckled. “Because they follow a modern – external – doctrine. They believe that they have to spread their message by trying to reason with non-believers, or believers of other faiths. But I don’t believe in it.”
“That’s totally different. Why not?” Fin asked inquisitively.
“Because your self-identity is built around your non-belief. You either truly don’t believe, or just simply have rejected organized religion, and formed a layer of emotional defenses. Your ego uses this identity as a shell of protection. It’s the same with any who firmly believes in either religion, atheism, or even their favorite sports team. That form of association we build for ourselves is divisive. It forms a wedge between ourselves and others by categorizing one’s self. People can’t easily be talked out of who they’ve decided they are, can they?”
Fin nodded and his eyes widened. “That’s extremely… wise!”
Val smiled. “Recognizing wisdom is the easy part. Finding that same wisdom from within you is much harder. I only share my philosophy with people that are prepared to step outside of their own egos, and are in the state of awareness to receive inspiration. But inspiration is all it is. I can’t enlighten anyone by spreading wisdom. If it were possible to do that, then organized religions would serve no purpose. I can only guide someone to find the truth within themselves. Nothing more.”
Fin seemed to wrinkle his brow, and Val supposed he’d struck some kind of nerve with the young man. “That’s all well and good, but that doesn’t make me think I’ll ever believe. If we die in this battle, then I won’t really care. I have to meet oblivion at some point, so I might as well die by doing my duty.”
“Well, I suppose you’re right!” Val laughed. “There’s only so much we can do to control life and death. So, there’s no point in worrying about it too much!”
“If you don’t worry about it, then why do you even do anything?” Fin asked.
“Because I have free will. I decide to dedicate my energies towards something larger than myself. I could be just as content meditating myself into an early grave. But in my many – many – years of life, I’ve come to the conclusion that humanity is one of the greatest achievements that this universe has ever managed to muster! I’d rather guide it to its ultimate destiny, or die trying, than just selfishly garb myself with the pursuit of enlightenment…. Besides, if you have to spend your life seeking enlightenment, then you’ll waste it looking in the wrong place.” Val winked.
Fin just nodded in acknowledgment. “Very strong words, but I’m still convinced there’s nothing but random chaos, and that we’re simply residue from a random cocktail of chemicals and elements.”
“Then I respect your beliefs and leave you to them.” Val smiled, then reached down to pet the lazy grey wolf. Growl thumped his enormous tail on the deck plate, as he seemed to welcome the affection.
The flash of a proximity warning caught Fin’s attention, and he spun around to his scanning displays. “Incoming heavy cruisers… sending RBA data to tactical displays!” Fin wasn’t entirely sure if the non-military personnel within the CIC had any clue what RBA data was, so he leaned over and whispered to Val. “RBA means Range, Bearing, and Attitude of a track on scan.”
Val smiled. “I well aware, my boy. Back when I was a helicopter pilot on Earth, we used Bearing Range and Altitude to triangulate radar and IR tracks. Same concept… different type of battlespace.
“What’s a hero-cloptic?” Fin asked.
“Helicopter,” Val repeated, but slower this time. “A rotary winged aircraft that lost its tactical significance a long time ago. It looks like this…” Val lifted the front of his shirt and exposed his bare chest and mid-section. Fin’s eyes got wide, and his jaw dropped at what he saw. It wasn’t the monk’s unrealistically chiseled physique that took him back, but the tattoo in the center of his chest. It appeared to be a detailed image of a Life Priest’s nine-path medallion, but slightly different. It almost appeared to be some kind of military insignia of sorts. And bore the words - US ARMY AVIATION.
“I – I can’t believe it!” Fin swallowed, and Val lowered his simple tunic once more. “Clergy isn’t allowed to have tattoos! And certainly NOT of that nature! Isn’t that a bit blasphemous?” Fin remembered his upbringing in a flash. He’d always been told that the Temple’s founding prophet bore the mark of the nine path medallion on his chest. Lore had alluded that it was an image from birth. A divine symbol of the teachings that were to come. But yet, here was a clergyman with a tattoo on his chest with a medallion.
“That’s a modern construct of the current temple teachings.” Val nodded. “But let’s just say, this tattoo – pre-dates – that tradition.” The ancient monk winked.
Fin’s mind was racing. There’s no way this guy is the ancient prophet! That was almost three thousand years ago! “How old are you?” The question spilled
out, and Fin immediately regretted it.
“Four thousand years… Not including another thousand years in stasis.” Val stated as a matter of fact.
“That’s impossible!” Fin scoffed and folded his arms as if he were catching a child in a fib.
“That’s what I thought too, Ensign.” Fleet Marshal Darius chimed in. Fin straightened his posture in response. “But after you see a scruffy looking man catch an armored piercing slug with his bare hands, then you begin to rethink what you know.” Darius winked, and then stepped back over to the command console.
“Incoming missiles!” Fin shouted. His scan display was flashing red. Admiral John just kept his eyes on his own display and raised a hand to acknowledge.
The main display showed four heavy cruisers coming in a very precise formation. They were at all evenly spaced in a ten by twenty-kilometer-wide bracket and formed a rectangle.
“Line of sight analysis, now!” John said. Darius gave him a glance and nodded. Fin didn’t have a clue why that was necessary, but it wasn’t his place to ask. He did as he was told, and lines began to form on the battle overlay.
“The lines are converging on us, and tracing back to our rear, Sir. They are corresponding with four heavy cruisers about one hundred twenty clicks off of our stern,” Fin replied.
“They’re forcing us to change our attitude to engage their heavy cruisers with our heavy armament,” John pointed out. “They’re figuring out that their energy weapons are useless, and they’re forcing us to react to the incoming threats. If we don’t respond, then we’ll be sitting ducks for the cruisers at close range. If we do respond, then we’ll expose our thruster arrays to the cruisers behind us, so they’ll have an optimal engagement condition for their KEPL’s.”
“Exactly, Admiral.” Darius nodded. “Taking evasive maneuvers will only delay the inevitable if they have us bracketed in.”