by Linn Schwab
* * * *
As Virginia waited for the airlock to clear, she received an urgent transmission from Lindsey in the control room.
“Virginia, are you still outside Volaris?”
“Yes, I’m still waiting to enter.”
“I need your help with something. There’s an object heading in this direction from the battle zone. The scanners are unable to identify it. Can you intercept it and see what it is for me?”
Virginia spun her fighter around and grimaced through the pain as she pushed the throttle forward. “I’m on my way. Am I looking for something bigger than a fighter?”
“Yes. It’s slightly larger than a destroyer.”
“I think I have it on my scanner. I’ll report back when I’m close enough to see it.”
* * * *
When the controllers caught up with her at the elevator, Major Richards was already trying to determine how she could best make use of them. She pressed the hangar level button on the panel, then stood back and looked at the group as a whole. Most of them were similar in size and height, but Veronica was noticeably shorter than the others. She was easily the daintiest member of the group. The chances of her overpowering a man seemed incredibly remote to the major. She decided the lieutenant wouldn’t be of much use in a fight, but perhaps could prove useful as a distraction. It was just a matter of deciding how to best go about it. She scrutinized each of the girls in turn. “Have any of you had training in hand to hand combat?” she asked.
They all looked at each other and shook their heads. Their response came as no surprise to the major. As far as she knew, it had never been touched upon in Sentinel training.
“They don’t teach us things like that,” Miranda insisted. “We don’t even really know what it looks like.”
“Well...” Veronica observed, “there is a Bruce Lee movie in the archives.”
Bruce Lee? the major wondered. The name was unfamiliar to her, but she saw an opportunity she could exploit and decided to keep her lack of knowledge concealed. “Did you watch it?” she asked, staring intently at Veronica.
The lieutenant seemed hesitant to reply, uncertain of the major’s reason for inquiring. “Yes…” she said with obvious reluctance.
“Good. You’re my security detail.”
“What?” Veronica exclaimed in panic.
The elevator came to a stop and the group proceeded toward the hangar together. “You’ll be fine,” the major assured her. “Just do whatever it was you saw in the movie.” She led the controllers into the hangar and stopped a short distance away from the airlock. A forklift was already in the process of dragging the fighter to a staging area.
The major felt herself trembling now as she got her first look at the enemy plane. Its construction was similar to Sentinel fighters, but everything about it seemed foreign to her: the color, the markings, the pilot’s name painted on the side of the cockpit. She strained her eyes to see in through the canopy glass. There was indeed someone inside there, quietly looking back out at her. Anxiety coursed through every inch of her body. Oh my god, she thought in apprehension, still coming to grips with the encounter’s significance. This is really happening! We actually have a live enemy pilot on Volaris!
The forklift gradually slowed to a stop when the path in front of the airlock was clear. Everyone in the room stood breathless and still, held captive by the scene that was playing out before them. They stared at the enemy plane in awe, waiting expectantly to see what would happen. Major Richards placed her hand on Veronica’s back and prodded her to move closer to the fighter.
Veronica looked back over her shoulder in uncertainty — her eyes open wide, her body shaking like a leaf. “What should I do?” she asked in distress.
The major gestured for her to keep moving as she and the others followed behind. “When he climbs out of the plane,” she said, “I want you to step forward and take him into custody.”
Veronica looked up at the cockpit in terror and waited for the canopy to swing open. As the group continued to advance toward the plane, they passed within reach of a portable tool chest. Major Richards discreetly grabbed several large wrenches and distributed them to the girls nearest to her, pulling their hands behind their backs to impart that they should keep them concealed. She then gestured with a subtle nod toward Veronica, and whispered her intentions to the other controllers. “If he even tries to lay a finger on her ... clobber him!”
The girls looked at each other for support, then stopped a few paces behind Veronica and stood ready to spring to her defense if necessary.
A pressure seal on the fighter’s canopy released, shattering the quiet and stillness in the room. The transparent enclosure lifted upward and back, leaving a single human occupant exposed.
Dave cautioned himself to proceed carefully so as not to present himself as a threat. He raised his empty hands up in surrender, and to reassure his captors that he was unarmed. His gesture was greeted with silence and stares. The mood in the room seemed tense and awkward but devoid of any outward indications of hostility. After a moment, he cautiously climbed down from his fighter and turned to face the girl standing nearest to him.
His first impression was that she was scared out of her wits. Her trembling was visibly apparent to him. The terror on her face was easy to read. But though she could not conceal her fear, she seemed determined to confront him anyway, and inched her way toward him in tiny steps, exhibiting a deep sense of wariness and caution. He considered trying to say something to her, to reassure her that he meant her no harm. But his thoughts quickly shifted to another concern — a burning question that could not be ignored. Are there any men here? he wondered, glancing around the room in curiosity. The faces he saw were decidedly suggestive of their gender. Every last one of them appeared to be female.
A darkness descended at the edges of his vision, and weakness now overtook his muscles. He remembered the wound in his lower left leg and realized now that he must have lost too much blood. The exertion of climbing down from his fighter had been enough to drain the remainder of his strength. He looked at the girl standing closest to him and struggled to keep her face in focus as his body went limp and crumpled to the floor. His last thought before blacking out completely was that there were likely to be no men present on the station if such a delicate creature had been sent to confront him. No men, he anguished as he slipped into darkness. No men here, either. Only women.
ENEMIES 060
Reacting swiftly to the enemy pilot’s collapse, Major Richards dropped her wrench and ran to his side. She kneeled near his body and checked for a pulse. “Bring a gurney!” she yelled. “He needs medical attention!”
Miranda ran to an equipment locker and retrieved a gurney kept there for emergencies.
“Help me lift him!” the major ordered. The controllers crowded in and grabbed onto his limbs, then raised him up as high as they could. When they attempted to maneuver him over the gurney, his head slammed into the side of its frame, resulting in a disconcerting audible thud. Fearing the collision would jar him awake, Veronica winced and let out a faint gasp. The pilot remained unconscious, though, and they managed to slide him onto the gurney. They then grasped onto the gurney’s handles and immediately began wheeling him toward the infirmary.
Major Richards’ mind was spinning already, with precautions, and procedures, and emergency protocols. The importance of keeping this patient alive eclipsed anything she’d ever been faced with. Now, to a greater degree than ever before, she could feel her body shaking, her hands quivering. As the others pushed and pulled the gurney forward, she scurried alongside them, frantically mumbling, “Blood sample, blood sample, I need to get a blood sample,” as if her greatest fear was that it might somehow slip her mind. She looked at the others and pleaded with them, “When we get him to the infirmary, don’t let me do anything until I get a blood sample!”
The gurney’s casters rattled in protest as the girls pushed it forward at a frenzied clip. As they rac
ed along through the corridor, they overtook Christy Allison and yelled at her to get out of their way. Christy jumped aside when she heard their warning and flattened herself against the wall. She caught a quick glimpse of the gurney’s passenger and stood there in shock as the others raced past her with Major Richards right on their heels.
In their fervor to get him inside the infirmary, the girls approached its entrance too quickly. The gurney collided with both sides of the door frame, careening back and forth between them with a raucous clash of metal striking metal. Its passenger spilled forward onto the floor, landing with a perceptible hollow–sounding thump. Major Richards immediately rushed to his side, but Miranda reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders.
“What are you doing!” the major yelled at her.
“You said not to let you do anything until you get a blood sample!”
The major’s eyes opened wide. “Right! Pull his left sleeve up!” she said, running toward a storage cabinet near the wall. She prepped a syringe to draw some blood, but her her hands were shaking so violently that she dropped it twice as she searched for a vein. Finally, the needle sank into his skin and its barrel began to turn crimson red. She forced herself to take deep breaths as it filled, aware that she needed to calm herself before attempting to treat his wounds. As soon as the syringe was filled to capacity, she extracted it and placed it in a refrigerator. “Get him on the operating table!” she ordered. She reached into a nearby drawer and withdrew a syringe and vial of sedative. “Veronica, grab the scissors off that tray and start cutting the pant leg away from his wound. Miranda, see if you can get his boots off. Ariel, I need you to monitor his pulse and let me know if his heart stops beating!”
* * * *
Virginia’s eyes detected a metallic glint in front of her, rotating slowly in an awkward spiral as it tumbled forward at a leisurely pace. She reversed course and flew alongside the object so she could get a closer look at it’s structure. It didn’t take her long to realize what it was and determine that it didn’t pose a threat to Volaris.
“Lindsey, are you still there?” she asked.
“Go ahead.”
“I have your radar contact in sight. It’s just a derelict hull fragment. Looks like the nose of a heavy cruiser, with some scattered loose contents trailing behind it. I’m returning to base now. Over.”
“Understood. Thank you, Virginia. Volaris out.”
* * * *
Robin’s battalion gathered near the center of the cafeteria and huddled together around several tables. The atmosphere in the room bristled with anxiety and tension. The threat of attack overshadowed all other thoughts. The girls showed signs of feeling stifled and helpless, like their lives were being held captive by the whims of fate. It felt to Robin like being caught in a powerful thunderstorm, not knowing when or where the next bolt of lightning would strike, or if by chance it might smite her and snuff out her life. There was no way to know what was going on outside. The uncertainty kept everyone in the room on edge.
Chrissy took a seat close to Robin and looked to her for some sign of reassurance. But Robin’s expression did little to mitigate her fears, and the quiet in the room only added to her sense of unease. “This is scary,” she said, squeezing her hands between her knees. “Is it always like this here?”
“No,” Robin said, “not always. But you definitely would have been safer back on Valhalla.”
Chrissy swallowed and looked down at the tabletop. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”
Robin reached over and laid a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll think of something. I promise. We won’t go down without a fight.”
Chrissy flashed her a nervous smile, then stood up and grabbed her duffel bag off the floor. She laid the bag on the surface of the table and started unfastening the buttons on her blouse.
“What are you doing, Chrissy?” Robin asked her.
“If we’re gonna fight,” she insisted, “I want to make sure I’m wearing the right uniform.” She proceeded to remove her blouse and skirt while Robin unzipped the duffel bag and held the new uniform up in front of her.
“Let me help you,” Robin said, positioning the dress over Chrissy’s head. Chrissy obediently held her arms up and allowed her to pull the dress onto her.
As Robin attempted to straighten the dress, Chrissy looked into her eyes and grinned. “I remember when you used to help me get dressed in the nursery.”
Robin couldn’t help but break into a smile. “I remember that too. Did someone else help you after I left?”
Chrissy thought it over for a moment. “I don’t remember. I just remember you helping me.”
Robin felt a tingle of emotion inside her. She suddenly began to realize just how grateful she was for Chrissy’s presence. The pleasant memories were a welcome distraction from an otherwise very unpleasant situation.
Chrissy took a step back from her and stood at attention. “So, how do I look?” she asked.
Making an effort to mimic a formal inspection, Robin briefly scrutinized the younger girl’s appearance. She tried to refrain from revealing any outward expression, but she couldn’t keep the smile of enjoyment off her face. This had to be the smallest green uniform dress in existence, and it looked absolutely adorable on Chrissy.
With an uncontrollable grin on her face, Caroline sprang up from her seat at the table and wrapped both arms around Chrissy from behind. “You look like a pint–sized bundle of fury. If those Earthlings know what’s good for them, they’d better not come anywhere near you.”
Laughter erupted around the table, and the other girls pulled themselves to their feet. One by one, each of them came over and embraced her, finishing with, “Welcome to ECHO 5, Chrissy.”
The exchange sparked feelings of jubilation all around, which served as a welcome release of tension. Those feelings were soon interrupted, though, when Christy Allison stepped into view. She was only a few paces inside the room when the other girls noticed her and hurried to her side. The empty look in her eyes gave them reason to wonder if another of them had fallen victim to misfortune. Robin stepped forward and gently grasped Christy’s hands. “Did you find out what happened to Tabitha?” she asked.
Christy answered with a silent nod. “I think she might be on the Calypso. Someone told me they saw her with Delia.”
Robin let out a restrained sigh. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll be alright. She might even be safer than we are. We could all—”
“Robin,” Christy said, cutting her off, “...there’s a man on Volaris.”
The girls all reacted with empty stares, wondering if they’d heard Christy's statement correctly.
“A man?” Robin said. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes. I saw him with my own eyes. There’s an enemy pilot in the infirmary right now.”
A wave of murmurs rippled through the group.
“Is he alive?” Caroline asked.
Christy shook her head in uncertainty. “I don’t know. He wasn’t moving when I saw him, but it looked like they were trying to save him.”
The girls fell silent in contemplation as they pondered the significance of this news. Several long minutes passed by before any of them uttered another word.
* * * *
An uneasy feeling gripped Commander Eldridge when the enemy ships began to withdraw. It wasn’t like them to give up so easily. Her instincts were telling her their actions were suspicious. Captain Russell instructed her pilot to pursue them, and selected a cruiser as a possible target. But the commander immediately overruled her. “No, wait!” she said. “Something isn’t right.” She rushed to the communications console and addressed her other forces over the radio. “This is Commander Eldridge,” she said. “Do not pursue! I repeat, do not pursue! All Sentinel forces, fall back and regroup! Check in with me before taking any further action!”
Seconds later, Captain McNeil responded. “Commander,” Jenny said, “our pilots need to land and refuel. Permission to return to
Volaris?”
The commander briefly considered her request. “No. I want to keep our forces closer to the combat zone for now. The carrier Zephyr is parked in that wreckage field behind us. She should be fully stocked by now. You can land and refuel your fighters there. Make sure they keep an eye out for enemy activity. There’s something unusual going on here.”
“Yes, Commander.”
* * * *
Delia watched the enemy ships pull away, then stood up and walked to the auxiliaries console. “How are you doing?” she asked Tabitha.
The younger girl’s face was white with fear. “I’m okay,” she said in a wavering voice. Her entire body appeared to be shaking and her hands were tightly clenched to the edge of the console. Just inches in front of her on the panel’s surface were several holes left by enemy bullets. Another had passed through the back of her seat, missing her head by mere centimeters.
“It’s not fun getting shot at,” Delia said. She wrapped an arm around Tabitha’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I got you into this. You’re very brave for someone your age.”
Tabitha looked out at the enemy ships as they continued to shrink away in the distance. In retreat, they didn’t appear quite so menacing. “Why aren’t we going after them?” she asked.
“Because, that’s exactly what they want.”
Tabitha looked up at Delia in confusion. “How do you know that’s what they want?”
“We barely even scratched them,” she explained. “It doesn’t make any sense for them to withdraw yet. They could be trying to draw us into an ambush. But we’re not going to fall for their trick. It’s obvious that they’re up to something.”
“So ... what do we do now?”
Delia glanced at the scanner readings to see if there was anything that looked suspicious. “Now, we wait for them to make their next move. And whatever it is, we make sure it doesn’t work.”
* * * *
Jay waited for all the other fighters to land before he approached the Melbourne’s airlocks. The carriers had been ordered to meet up with the fleet so the fighters could land for a while and refuel. After guiding his plane inside the hangar, he climbed down and headed for the nearest exit. Thomas and Angelo were waiting for him there with sullen expressions on their faces.