by Dean M. Cole
The officer nodded. "Yes, my Lord." The hatchling grasped the drive controller. "Parallel-jump in five zyxyns. Three, two, one!"
***
Breathless, Jake stepped onto the Helm Warden's bridge.
Fortunately, it had the same layout and design as the Galactic Guardian. Lowering his head, he sprinted to the marked lift point. As he slid to a stop in the pulsing ring of light, the lift grabbed his legs and hoisted him to the bridge's command deck.
At the top, Jake didn't wait to be deposited. He jumped onto the faintly glowing, twenty-foot-high translucent floor and jogged toward its center.
Using his EON interface, he activated the room-spanning holographic display.
Millions of multicolored pixels appeared to pour out of the bridge's antiqued bronze walls. A moment later, the swirling light storm coalesced into a model of the Earth-Moon system that slowly rotated over Jake's head. However, a vast region between the two planetary bodies refused to resolve. There the swarming pixels fell into disorganized chaos, like three-dimensional electronic noise.
Jake stared into the confused mess.
"Damn it, Sandy! Why didn't you tell me?"
The thought brought back the memory of Remulkin's death. The image of the man's plummeting body dwindling to an indiscernible point as it raced moonward ushered a fresh wave of guilt.
The son of a bitch had given his life, and all Jake could think of was Sandy and their unborn child.
He shook his head. If he didn't move fast, Remulkin's sacrifice would have been for naught.
"Pull it together, Giard!"
In his EON's virtual vision, Jake brought up the Helm Warden's communications control.
"What the hell?"
He couldn't activate any of the links. All of the communication icons were grayed out. Floating in his EON's visual feed, the symbols didn't respond to the tapping of his virtual hand. Jake's real hand twitched as the simulated index finger poked the icons again and again.
Nothing.
"Screw it."
Giard connected to the ship's sub-light drive.
Grayed out.
"Son of a bitch!"
But then he saw one icon rendered in brilliant gold.
Jake smiled. "What's this?"
The parallel lines of the twin-shafted three-dimensional arrow that represented the parallel-space drive slowly rotated in his virtual vision. It was available!
He could use parallel-space to jump the carrier into the combat zone.
"Thank God!" Jake said with a sigh.
He flicked his virtual finger through the menus. "One more thing …" Giard whispered as he searched. A moment later his hand gave the stop gesture. "There you are!"
Clicking the new icon, he activated the weapon's panel.
"You're shitting me! Really?"
Now both of Jake's hands spasmed as he tapped multiple grayed-out icons, all to no avail.
Nothing.
He couldn't fire any of the carrier's weapons.
Tekamah had apparently locked out every system that could turn the unmanned Helm Warden into a weapon.
Grinding his teeth together, Jake stared into the electronic noise that polluted the battlefield.
"Screw it," he said again.
Reaching into the hologram with both hands, Jake grabbed the cloud, expanded it and then shoved it to the right side of the image. Releasing it, he focused on the empty region of space to the left of the battlefield.
Colonel Giard poked the area with an extended index finger, and the autopilot accepted his command with its now familiar oilcan pop.
Another twitch of his virtual index finger activated the drive, and the Helm Warden snapped to the new location.
The world beyond the view-wall changed in an instant. Gone was the cratered surface of the Moon's far side. Now the wrath of battle painted its ugly face across the display. Black husks tumbled in the near field. In the distance, Jake saw the Argonian ship wink out of existence again. In its wake, another wasted volley of plasma and kinetic weapon fire burned through empty space.
Giard looked at his watch.
Five minutes!
Looking up, he stared at the protective shell of fighters swarming around the Galactic Guardian.
"Get the hell out of there, Sandy!"
The dreadnought suddenly flared back into existence.
Jake magnified the view-wall image just in time to see one of the Zoxyth lasers burn into the Galactic Guardian, cutting another long slice across its dark skin. Atmosphere and debris exploded from the opening.
Giard stared with mounting horror as again he saw that some of the detritus had flailing arms and legs.
"Damn it!"
***
Sandy jumped as the Zoxyth ship popped back into the battle. This time, it dropped in so close to her fighter, the dreadnought filled her entire field of view. Instinct took over; all of her weapons fired before she knew her hands were on the controls.
Between earlier attacks, Newcastle had pulled the other fighter wings off the perimeter of the combat zone and redeployed them in defensive positions around all of the battlecruisers. He'd placed 1st and 6th Fighter Wings around the stricken remnants of the Guardian. If the defenders could disable the dreadnought, Vampire squadron would swoop in and take out the floundering enemy ship with their slower but incredibly powerful nuclear bunker busters.
However, since the starfighters had repositioned, the enemy had adapted their tactics, shortening their attacks and varying their ingress locations.
Presently, volleys of weapon fire converged on the enemy ship, scoring multiple hits. Asteroidal debris rocketed away from its lumpy surface. Some of it flew straight at her starfighter, but it easily evaded the incoming rocks.
The outside world made another lateral shift, and her cockpit suddenly warmed.
"Shit!" Sandy said.
The Zox ship had fired directly at her. The fighter had dodged the worst of the laser's assault, but for the first time, its external skin glowed red. Multiple system warnings flashed in her virtual vision.
"Damn it!" she said in a frustrated growl. "That was close!"
Sandy canceled the alarms and scanned the systems. Nothing too bad. All of the critical ones still functioned. The plasma weapon's containment field had shifted to amber, but the rest of the armaments showed green.
Another brilliant river of light burst from the alien ship, slicing across the width of her immersive display. Barely missing her fighter, it tore another large hole in the unshielded Galactic Guardian.
Grinding her teeth, Sandy growled and fired another volley at the enormous ship's nearest asteroid, but the son of a bitch winked out of existence again!
Sandy's growl morphed into a scream. "Damn it!"
Colonel Newcastle's voice burst from the silent command net. "Report!"
"Gunfighter Squadron is down another man," said a nervous-sounding female. "We lost Major Hill, sir."
The news hit Sandy like a slap. She felt her face reddening as her anger boiled over. She knew Hill. He was a good man. But hearing the woman say they were down another man felt like they had already given up on Jake, written him off as dead.
Jake was fine! She would have known if he wasn't!
Sandy began to toggle her radio so that she could tell the bitch as much. But then Richard opened their personal EON connection. The interference had eased enough to permit limited, short-range use of the network. She still hadn't been able to link to Jake, but then again, neither had she with those in the Guardian.
"Let it go, Fitzpatrick," Richard said. "You and I both know he's out there, that he's okay."
Before Sandy could answer, he added, "And we will find him as soon as this battle is over."
Colonel Newcastle's weary voice returned. "Okay, Gunfighter. Is this Major Withers?"
"Y-yes, sir," the female said stutteringly.
"Thank you, Major. You're my new wing commander. Hang in there a little bit longer, and we'll get through
this."
"Yes … Yes, sir!" the woman barked, trying to put up a brave front. "Sixth Fighter Wing is a go!"
"First Fighter Wing is a go," Richard said.
The multinational commanders of 2nd through 5th Fighter Wings checked in. Then Newcastle opened the connection with the carrier.
"Galactic Guardian Actual, this is Commander Air Group," he said over the fleet-wide network. "All Terran fighter wings remain combat-effective. What is your status?"
"Roger, CAG," Johnston said. "I'm not sure how many more of those attacks this ship can handle."
"Copy that, Admiral," Newcastle said. "Is there any chance of bringing your gravity drive back to one hundred percent?"
"No. Looks like this is all we get. But that'll be a moot point soon," Johnston said. "We have less than two minutes before their gene weapon is back online. Admiral Tekamah and I want you to get your fighters to safety before that happens."
"But, sir, we're hurting the bastards. They'll have to—"
Admiral Johnston cut him off. "Zach, I appreciate what you are trying to do, but your pilots and their ships are our last hope. Fallback, and when the bastards deploy their weapon against us, you'll have a small window to jump in and take them out before they can parallel-jump out of the system."
"But, Admiral, there must be thousands of personnel still alive on the Galactic Guardian."
"You have your orders, Colonel," Johnston said. Then his voice softened. "Go now, Zach. You've done all you can here."
"Yes, sir," Newcastle said almost too weak to hear. "It's been an honor, Admiral."
"It has been an honor for me as well, Colonel. You have less than a minute. Get the hell out of here! Galactic Guardian Actual, out."
"All squadrons!" the colonel said over the tactical radio, his voice back to full volume. "Fallback to point Alpha in three …"
Trying to swallow down the huge lump in her throat, Sandy blinked away a tear. Reaching for her drive actuator, she counted down with Newcastle. "Two, one—"
Before she reached zero, the Zoxyth ship, already firing its laser batteries, dropped back into real space directly in front of Sandy's fighter even closer than last time.
The universe lurched sideways, but the fighter's interior atmosphere instantly felt like a blast furnace, as if Sandy had stuck her face into an oven.
She squinted against the radiant heat. In her virtual vision, she saw the fighter's entire complement of system monitors trip red and then die.
In an instant, her starfighter filled with swirling smoke.
As the blaring horns expired, a hissing noise slithered into her ears. Adjusting to the crashing air pressure, Sandy's inner ear popped like a machine gun. As the whistle ramped up to a piercing, high-pitched wail, the helmet flowed from her suit's neck and locked her into its protective atmosphere.
Sandy coughed, trying to clear her lungs. Then the suit's nanobots filtered the air, and she breathed easier.
Suddenly, her flight couch melted back into the bottom of the sphere. Then the last of the fighter's power core collapsed, taking the gravity field with it.
Sandy began to drift away from the floor. As she did, the forward half of the spherical display's concave surface started to balloon outward. All the cabin smoke streamed toward its top left quadrant.
Wide-eyed and beginning to float higher, she made a desperate grasp for the control console—the only cockpit element still protruding from the sphere's inner surface. Catching it with one hand, she pulled herself down and hugged the small pedestal with both arms and legs like a flood victim grasping the top of a telephone pole.
Looking over the top of the console, she stared at the visibly flexing wall. It undulated like fluttering paper. Even through her suit's helmet, the shriek of escaping atmosphere became an unbearable roar. Then the forward portion of the starfighter blew out, plunging Sandy into deafening silence.
After a moment, her traumatized ears registered the sound of her frantic breathing. The wet click of a nervous swallow interrupted her panting.
A nightmarish image stared back at Sandy as she looked through the huge hole left by the explosive decompression.
With gleeful malevolence, the sculpted alien face chiseled into the front of the Zoxyth dreadnought appeared to glare at Major Fitzpatrick. As she peered through the void, nothing but empty space sat between her and its monstrous, snarling, skull-chewing visage.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Jake looked at his wristwatch.
Less than a minute remained before the enemy could fire their gene weapon!
A moment ago, the dreadnought had jumped out of the battle again.
The damn hologram was still of no use. Giard couldn't see where the bastards had gone, but he knew they'd be back.
He zoomed the view-wall image until the remnant of the Guardian filled the center third of the Warden's display. At that magnification, he could make out details of individual starfighters.
During the last engagement, Jake had seen the destruction of one of the dots he'd previously identified as a fighter.
Now that he'd magnified the image, he spotted Sandy's ship. "There you are!" he said. "Thank God!" he added as he released the breath he'd been holding since seeing the destruction of the unknown starfighter. "Now get the hell out of—"
Suddenly, everything changed.
Like high-speed action captured in a brilliant camera flash, three things appeared to happen simultaneously.
The dreadnought jumped back into the battle, lasers already firing.
At the same instant, Sandy's ship lurched sideways, and half of its exterior skin glowed like an autumn sunset.
Concurrently, all of the other starfighters vanished, only the after-image of their parallel jump's blue halo remaining in their wake.
"No, no!" Jake screamed.
Then the glowing skin of Sandy's fighter ruptured, exploding outward.
Even if she hadn't been cooked alive, her fighter was dead in the water.
"No!" Giard yelled at himself. He wasn't going to give up hope. They weren't dead! Sandy and their baby were on that starfighter.
Remulkin had been right. Jake needed to save his family.
He glared at the sweeping second hand of his watch.
The colonel had one option and only seconds to do it.
Reaching for the parallel-space actuator, he whispered a quick prayer.
"God, if this works, I'll never know it. Please watch over Sandy and our baby. Help her understand."
Jake closed his eyes. As he mashed the virtual button, he added, "Help her forgive me—"
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Through the hole in her fighter, the stone visage continued to glare at Sandy.
Now unopposed, the dreadnought hung motionlessly across from her as if savoring the moment.
She knew that the Galactic Guardian, also dead in the water, hovered just behind the husk of her destroyed fighter.
Still clinging to the pedestal, she raised her wristwatch to eye level.
As the final seconds tick, tick, ticked from her life, Sandy closed her eyes.
"Goodbye, Jake, I love you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about our baby."
She felt tears puddling around her lashes.
"Goodbye, Momma," she said. A whimper escaped her lips as she added, "Daddy! I—"
Sandy flinched as white light flooded through her squeezed-shut eyelids.
Releasing the pedestal and floating free, she spread her arms wide and said, "I love you, Daddy!"
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
The gene weapon bathed Sandy in its life-stealing effulgence. Wrapping her arms around her mid-section, the floating, unrealized mother hugged her abdomen and braced for the end.
An eternal moment later, her eyes snapped open.
Where was the pain? During her first brief encounter with the weapon over California, it had felt as if her insides were boiling. However, now she felt none of it. The only sensation working through her abdomen was th
at associated with weightlessness.
Somehow, she was still alive.
Brilliant light continued to stream through the blown-out wall, but its luminosity was already subsiding. Then the last of it faded, plunging Sandy into an inky blackness punctuated by blue afterimages. After another moment, she blinked away the last of the azure spots, but still couldn't see anything.
Sandy floated in complete, unrelenting darkness as if she'd fallen into a sensory deprivation tank. In her silent universe, each beat of her heart sounded like a thermonuclear detonation.
Finally, shadows began to emerge from the void. Adjusting to the dark, her eyes started to pick up shapes within those shadows. The ragged edge of the fighter's missing wall still hung ahead of Sandy. Through it, she saw … nothing?
No, something was out there, a hint of stars, but too dark, as if seen through black tinting. Starting and stopping, the blacked-out stars appeared to scroll from the bottom of the field of view. Eventually, their zigzagging path carried them out of view at the top of the torn-out wall.
"Is that—?" Sandy said but then screamed as something touched the top of her helmet.
A few skipped heartbeats later, she realized that, still floating, she had bumped into the fighter's ceiling.
Releasing her abdomen, she extended a tentative hand toward the smooth featureless surface.
As her thumb and first two fingers touched it, they stuck to the surface. Sandy sighed and whispered, "Thank God."
Like smart velcro, the nanobots in the suit's glove gave her purchase on the smooth panel. Sandy began to walk hand-over-hand toward the jagged edge of the blown-out wall. When she tensed her hand to grip the ceiling, the nanobots held like glue. To let go, she simply relaxed her grip, and they released.
She reached the opening. A spectacular, surreal panorama blotted out half of the visible universe.
Like a hole in space, an incredibly dark and massive vessel now floated where the Zoxyth ship had been only moments before. But, as she'd seen earlier, the region wasn't entirely devoid of light. Now limited to the hole in the star field, the scrolling points still followed their zigzagging path across space.