The Forbidden Wilds III: An Inevitable War

by Saxon Andrew

“Are you certain?” Jingle asked.

  “Do you have a week for me to tell you all my reasons?”

  Jingle lifted her left shoulder, “No, but you have to understand why I feel this way?”

  “You’re worried that I’ve never had a personal relationship before?” Alex glanced at Jingle and they nodded. “I’ve had the opportunity to watch my classmates go in and out of relationships because I couldn’t be in one. I’ve watched the good, the bad, and the ugly as my friends went through some good and bad relationships. I’ve learned that relationships are built on three things. If they’re not present, the relationship will fail.”

  “What things?” Alex asked.

  “Honesty, integrity, and physical attraction. You can have two of the three, but the missing part will end a relationship. Barry is honest, to a fault, and you can count on him to do the right thing, even if it hurts.”

  “What about the third element?” Jingle asked.

  “I’ve been wanting to jump his bones for two years. He’s so handsome and he doesn’t even know it. Now that I’m older, I can hold my own in the looks department with any of the female cadets; I look like you, Mom.”

  Jingle looked at Alex and saw him shaking his head. “What are you thinking?”

  Alex chuckled, “The poor boy doesn’t stand a chance.” Belle and Jingle burst out laughing as Alex added, “Trust me; I know!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The top fifty-percent of the new graduates were gathered in the auditorium to decide what warship they wanted to train on. The top ten graduates were promoted to Captain and would make the initial choices. Belle and Barry were the first to choose and they chose to train on the Warscouts. The next six graduates chose to train on the Terminators. Barry leaned in to Belle and whispered, “They’re going to regret that decision.”

  Belle shrugged, “Size is important to some people.”

  Barry chuckled and Belle turned to him, “What?”

  “Nothing…nothing at all.” Belle saw him smiling but couldn’t figure out what he found humorous.

  • • •

  After the selections were made, the cadets reported to Fleet Operations to receive their assigned ships. Belle told the Captain making the assignments that she already had her ship.

  “Exactly where did you get it, Captain Berringer?”

  “I’ve had a Warscout as a personal vessel since I was five-years-old. I’ll use that ship.”

  “That’s an old model, Captain.”

  “It’s been regularly updated and has all the modern updates.”

  “I’ll have to clear this with Admiral Glennon.”

  “Please do.”

  “How is that ship registered?”

  “It doesn’t have a numerical rating; it’s named Ringie.”

  The Captain pulled up the ship in the database and after a few moments looked up, “It is certainly up to date. If I don’t contact you, then Admiral Glennon has approved your choice. You will have to move the ship to the spaceport to assemble with the other warships.”

  “Yes Sir.”

  • • •

  Belle walked away and Barry smiled at the Captain, “Sir, are we allowed to name our ships?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I want to name my ship Liberty Bell.”

  The Captain stared at Barry and saw the silver star on his pocket. He smiled and said, “If the number one graduate can name her ship, you should be allowed to do it as well. But no one else will name their ships until after maneuvers are completed. I feel reasonably certain you will do a good job in them.” Barry smiled and walked away.

  • • •

  The graduates spent the summer training on how to fly their chosen warships. The first six weeks were spent on simulators and then on their ships with an experienced pilot on board. The three months flew by and then September arrived. Fall fleet maneuvers didn’t just include the newly graduated officers but also included any naval personnel that were promoted to fly a warship. It also included pilots that transferred from one type of ship to another. A pilot that commanded a Terminator and transferred to a Warscout would have to go through the training as well as maneuvers. The reverse was also true.

  The new ship commanders were as ready as the trainers could get them. 96,000 new pilots were divided into sixty-four units. Half of them were placed in one of thirty-two brackets and the others were assigned to another bracket. Every bracket started with 1,500 warships in each unit and they would face the ones in their units first. After ten hours, those still in the maneuver would move on to the next round of sixteen in each bracket. If the numbers weren’t even in the survivors, they would be adjusted after each round.

  The first maneuvers would start on Saturday, September 7th. Each bracket would be reduced to sixteen units in each and three days later on Tuesday, the sixteen surviving flights would face off. On the Friday the 13th, the round of eight would face off.

  The survivors in the four remaining flights in each bracket would have the weekend off and the round of four would start on Monday. The surviving two units in each bracket would face off after one day of rest on the eighteenth. The surviving pilots from each bracket would form the final unit and then face off on September 20th. The very next day, every survivor of the two final units would face off and would continue the maneuver until only one survivor emerged on September 21st, Belle’s birthday.

  The Fall Maneuvers were designed to force long, difficult combat situations closely mimicking actual space battles. Fatigue would be an element that would affect the final outcome.

  • • •

  The first round of sixty-four took place in sixty-four areas in open space outside of New York’s planetary system. The areas were separated, and electronic buoys set up the boundaries the warships had to stay inside. If a warship moved outside the borders of the competition, they were eliminated. The Fleet’s computer system gave the participants their starting position and they were free to move around the area once the maneuver started.

  Belle sat on Ringie and looked at her scanner. She wasn’t in the dead center of the area, but she was close. She was going to have to fight her way out and get some clear space around her. “Ringie, what do you see?”

  “I think four of the ships above us have turned their bows in our direction. Taking out an Admiral’s daughter will be a feather in their bonnet.”

  “Move away from them and pick the best path out.”

  “Got it on the monitor. Remember, you only have sixty defense-missiles, so use them wisely.”

  “Ringie, you decide when to fire a missile. I’ll focus on using the blaster.”

  “Just move when I tell you. We’re faster than a defense missile but that will require a hard turn most of the time.”

  “Will do. Five minutes to start. Remember, we run first and fight if we must.”

  “I’ll keep you up to date over our link.” Belle nodded and watched the countdown. It hit zero and an alarm went off in every ship. Belle saw four ships turn away from her and she moved in behind them allowing them to clear a path for her to get out of the center of the maneuver. The four ships focused on her at the beginning were taken out from the sides before they ever moved in close enough to fire.

  • • •

  Belle spent the first five hours whipping the ship out of dangerous situations. She fired her blaster when an opportunity presented itself but most of her attention was devoted to staying away from other ships. She used the Terminators to shield her from many of the Warscouts and didn’t hesitate to whip her ship around them just outside the range of their blasters. They’d launch training defense missiles at her that usually broke lock and took out a ship pursuing her.

  Half of the warships in the exercise were destroyed in the first ten minutes. That opened a lot of space as the losers left the area and Ringie focused on any ships moving toward them while Belle focused on ships attacking other ships. She’d flash in and open fire on the attacker and then fly away at h
igh speed.

  Whenever a ship tried to lock on them, Belle would run them by one of the surviving Terminators and many of the attackers chasing her didn’t get the opportunity to use a defense missile or a blaster as the Terminators took them out of the exercise.

  Belle’s link with Ringie was ten-times faster than the links the other pilots had with their new ships and it was a huge advantage. She reacted faster and fired her weapons at optimum distances.

  The ten hours flew by and Belle saw there was only ten minutes remaining. The surviving ships were just trying to stay alive until the clock ran out and Belle said, “Ringie, we still have fifteen defense missiles.”

  “What do you suggest we do with them?”

  “Pick five Warscouts and I’m going to fly in behind them at full speed. Launch three missile surrounding them and I’ll break away.”

  “I’ve chosen five ships that are isolated inside the boundary. First one is directly ahead.”

  Belle knew the Warscout’s blaster was on the bow of the ship and if she stayed behind them, they’d have to launch a defense missile that would have to make a radical turn to attack her. All five Warscouts were hit and knocked out of the competition before time ran out. Belle collapsed in her chair and said, “Ringie, take us home; I’m worn out.”

  • • •

  The Senior Admirals watched the competitions using various monitors to track the activity in each area. Alex kept his attention on Belle; Jingle kept her attention focused on the young man her daughter insisted she was going to marry. At the end, Alex turned to Jingle, “Belle did an outstanding job.”

  “Her beau was lucky he wasn’t knocked out of the competition.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Seven or eight times, he was under attack and another ship took out the ship chasing him.”

  “Do you think he was setting those ships up?”

  “If he was, he’s a freaking miracle worker! I believe he was just really lucky.”

  Alex shrugged, “We’ll ask him after the competition is over; no one is allowed to communicate with any of the crews taking part in maneuvers until they’re over and a champion crowned.”

  “They’re really not fair, Alex. Some very good pilots were eliminated due to bad luck.”

  “But even those pilots will have learned something from the effort and not make the same mistakes again.” Jingle sighed and agreed he was right.

  • • •

  Belle sat on Ringie at the spaceport and tried to get up enough energy to go to her quarters. “Fleet has reassigned the survivors into the sixteen units in each bracket.”

  “Why didn’t they do that before the first maneuver?”

  “I suspect they didn’t want anyone to know who they were up against. Friends might try to work together and not only is that against the rules but also wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Where’s Barry?”

  “He’s in the other bracket and we won’t have to face him unless both of you make it to the final two units,” Ringie answered.

  “Are we in the same unit?”

  “No, there weren’t many survivors in our unit, so we’ve been moved to another unit that had numerous survivors.”

  “Does it have the same number as started the last exercise?”

  “None of them have the same number,” Ringie replied. “Each unit now has slightly less than a thousand warships in them.”

  Belle sighed, “At least that will give us more room to start. I’ll talk with you in the morning. I’m going to get some sleep.”

  • • •

  Tuesday found Belle in a familiar place. This time she was in the dead center of her unit. She sighed and said, “Anyone gunning for us?”

  “It appears every ship around us has turned our way.”

  Belle shook her head and replied, “Do you think they’ll all start toward us at once?”

  “That’s what I suspect will happen.”

  “How many ships are there?”

  “Ten.”

  “Target each of them with a defense missile now.”

  “But the exercise hasn’t started, Belle.”

  “Show me in the rules where I’m forbidden to plan my first move.”

  “Well, there’s nothing written preventing it, but I guess I assumed from the instructions we were given that we couldn’t improve on our starting position. Targeting ships prior to the start of the exercise would be improving our position, wouldn’t it?”

  “No! We’re not changing our position and those ships have turned their ships toward us before the exercise starts. That’s improving their position more than targeting them.”

  “Ok, I’ve locked a missile on each of them.”

  “Once the missiles hit or miss, pick a route for us to get to open space.”

  “That would be to the rear of our current position.”

  “Then fire and I’ll whip the ship around. Keep me informed of any new attackers and I’ll focus on using the blaster to get out of this mess.”

  Belle waited and when the alarm sounded starting the exercise, Ringie immediately launched ten training missiles. All ten attackers had barely moved when they were knocked out of the competition. They filed a formal protest but were told they made a critical mistake and didn’t move out of range of a competitor’s weapons. Maybe they would learn from that mistake.

  Belle was off and running and saw there were fewer Terminators to use to avoid attackers. It really didn’t surprise her; they just weren’t fast or maneuverable enough to escape the Warscouts. But there were enough for Belle to use to set up numerous Warscouts foolish enough to go after her.

  Belle developed a new trick. She would entice a competitor to come flashing in from the rear and she would pass just out of range of another competitor. The competitor would then take out the ship pursuing Belle. But winning in this second competition was far more difficult than the first round. But Belle’s faster link with Ringie made the difference. She was two steps ahead of any of the ships in the exercise. She spent the last hour avoiding other ships. She still managed to knock ten ships out of the competition, but she had numerous close calls. The alarm sounded ending the maneuvers and Belle blew out a breath. She wasn’t as tired this time; she was starting to get her combat conditioning. But she would have no issues sleeping that night.

  “Ringie, how did Barry do?”

  “Give me a moment; Fleet is just now downloading the names of the surviving pilots.” Belle waited and Ringie finally said, “He’s still in it.” Belle sighed and headed toward the spaceport. The earlier she could arrive, the more time she would have to rest.

  The Round of Eight was actually easier than the first two rounds…until the end. There were only five-hundred warships in her unit this time and all of them started outside the firing range of the ships around them. Ringie found a route through the ships around them by keeping tabs on where their bows were pointed. But…she made a mistake and allowed a competitor to launch a missile directly at her. She saw the missile moving in at high speed and Ringie announced, “Changing course won’t make a difference.”

  “Give me a scan of that missile!” Belle looked at the monitor and saw the missile was flying in slightly above the ship. Belle moved the bow slightly up and the missile moved its warhead slightly higher. Suddenly, Belle went to full thrusters and dove below the missile’s line of flight. The missile was fast and that was what caused it to miss; it couldn’t match Ringie’s speed in the dive. It flew over them and lost lock. Bell snapped fired a missile at the ship that had broken away after it launched, and the missile tracked in and knocked it out of the exercise. Belle saw it turn red on the monitor showing it was out of the competition. Thank goodness for that. That pilot was good!

  The exercise turned into avoiding being attacked. Belle noticed that all the other ships still in the competition were moving away from her whenever she turned toward them. That was fine with her; her goal was to simply survive. Toward the end of the competitio
n, two of the survivors ganged up on her.

  “OH, IS THIS HOW IT’S GOING TO BE?” Belle flew past numerous ships that had an open shot at her pursuers but didn’t take it. The survivors wanted her out of the competition.

  “They’re trying to pin us against the boundary, Belle! If we turn we’ll move into range of their missiles!”

  “How many missiles do we have remaining?”

  “Twelve.”

  Belle saw the boundary rapidly approaching and made a decision, “Ringie, “I’m flipping the ship and coasting toward the boundary. As soon as I flip the ship, fire four missiles at each of those ships. If they change course, be ready to launch two of our remaining missiles at each of them.”

  “But you will cross the boundary.”

  “Ringie, I’m going to maximum thrusters before I cross it. I’m buckling in tight and if I pass out from G forces, keep us out of trouble.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  Belle saw the boundary rushing toward her and she flipped the Warscout and leaned back in her chair. Ringie launched eight missiles and Belle pushed the thruster handle fully forward. The Warscout moved within eight feet of the boundary before it stopped and accelerated forward. The gravity handlers were screaming, and Belle felt like an iron elephant sat down on her chest; she passed out.

  • • •

  When she regained consciousness, it took a few minutes for her to get oriented. “Belle, are you all right?”

  “Give me a moment to unwrap my lungs from my backbone. What happened?”

  “The exercise is over, and the two ships working together were knocked out with the first missiles we launched at them; they didn’t have enough time to launch a missile and avoid the ones we fired at them. They’ve been reprimanded by Fleet for breaking the rules to not gang up on a ship.” Belle sighed and winced. “The eight warships that had a shot at them when we passed and didn’t take it have also been eliminated from the competition.”

  “How long have I been out?”

  “The exercise ended thirty minutes ago, and Fleet is asking if you need medical attention.”

  “Tell them no! Take us back to the spaceport.”