The Veil Rising
Page 5
The admiral cocked his head. “Eden, what are you doing?”
“Permission to fly, sir!”
Admiral Byrd unfolded his arms and turned his head toward the vid screen, hesitated, then replaced his hands behind his back. “Request denied.”
Eden took a step forward, her gaze flitting around the room, not settling on anyone, and unsure if her next statement would get her thrown into lockup. “Admiral. I must! Please.”
He turned, about to speak, but Brigger interrupted. “Weapons lock! We have engaged the enemy.” He smiled at the admiral, then dropped his gaze back to the HDC. His smile faded as quickly as it came. Then he shouted, “Thunderbirds down! Thunderbirds down!”
Commotion rippled throughout the bridge, and although the admiral's attention was focused entirely on Eden, the voices on the bridge softly echoed into his mind, muffled like people yelling through a wall.
Admiral Byrd wanted to shake his head, but Eden shook hers first, pleading for him to give her a nod and grant her request.
I can't let you go, Eden. I need your expertise, thought the admiral. When the words came out of his mouth, he heard himself say something very different. “Suit up. Command from the air.”
“Excuse me?” asked Eden.
“You heard me. Leave before I change my mind.” He turned, staring back at the vid screen encircling the bridge, placing a hand over his mouth as he combed his lips with his index finger, thinking.
She relaxed and bowed her head. She was sure she could help much better from a pilot's point of view versus a command desk. “You won't regret it, sir!”
“You better be right, lieutenant.”
Eden ran out the door of the bridge just as the admiral turned around to watch her leave, wanting to yell at her to stop. Instead, he watched the door close vertically behind her. He rubbed the back of his neck. His stomach churned. He didn't want his best pilot joining the fight. Eden was too important, too intelligent, and too brave for that.
“Admiral, we’re taking heavy losses!” said Brigger.
The Admiral did a quick exhale. “How's the enemy fairing?”
“They’re taking losses too, although not many.”
“Give me exacts, Brigger.”
Brigger fumbled in his chair, glaring at the HDC in front of him. “28 of ours...no, now 29 of ours down. Only twelve of theirs, sir!”
The Admiral wanted to drop to the ground, cover his ears or at least scream. Holding back, all he managed to do was bite his lip.
“Eden away, sir!” sounded Brigger, letting the Admiral know that Eden had left Brigantia in her Thunderbird.
Captain Stripe left the helm and walked over to the admiral. She rested her hand on his shoulder and whispered, “We need a miracle.”
He could feel her hand trembling as he glanced at it, then at her thick lips, looking anywhere but into her eyes. “That's what I'm praying for.” He reached his hand into his pocket, feeling the texture of his pendant. Knights Templar, be my miracle. He blinked a couple of times. “Louise, in times like these, act like hope is always on your side, and that a miracle is always on its way no matter what.”
The captain lifted her brow, wondering what he was talking about.
“36 Thunderbirds down, sir, and 17 enemies,” reported Brigger.
Captain Stripe shot a glance at Brigger, then looked back at her admiral. “Suggestions?”
“Let's take Brigantia and Taranis for a ride. We meet head on with those pyramid flying pieces of starshit and blow some holes into them.”
She crossed her arms and dipped her head. “Indeed.”
Admiral Byrd pointed to Brigger. “Open com link to Taranis.” A crackle came over the link. Admiral Jenkyns' hologram appeared.
“Yes, Fleet Admiral?” Admiral Byrd sensed panic in Jenkyns.
“We move on the pyramids, full speed ahead.”
Jenkyns paused, clearly calculating strategies in his head. “That doesn't feel like the best option, admiral.”
“Do you have any alternatives?”
Again, Jenkyns paused, looking down. “We retreat. We run.”
“Jenkyns, we have four hours until hyperdrives are online and functional. Until then, we can't jump. We have no way to run. We have to fight.”
Jenkyns touched his temple. “Our hyperdrives are functional, sir.”
Admiral Byrd tilted his head, knowing what Jenkyns meant, but asked anyway. “What are you saying?”
“If we move on the pyramids, we likely all die, although with honor. However, the human race can survive if Taranis jumps. We can give our species a chance.”
Admiral Byrd glanced at Captain Stripe, who gave him a nod. She agreed. He closed his eyes for a moment, placing his hand in his pocket, touching the pendant. Knights Templar, hear my prayer. I know you're not a myth. I know you must be a part of our history, somewhere. Please come to our aid!
“Ten more birds down!” yelled Brigger.
“Orders, admiral?” asked Jenkyns.
“You are to jump on my mark!”
“And, what about my Thunderbirds, sir?”
Admiral Byrd shook his head. “They stay. If we can last four more hours, we’ll have all birds dock here and we’ll rendezvous with you at your coordinates. If, after approximately five hours we don't show, jump again.” Admiral Byrd glanced at Brigger, making sure he patched coordinates to Taranis.
Brigger pressed several buttons, then looked up at Admiral Byrd. “Completed, sir.”
Admiral Byrd gripped his pendant. “Admiral Jenkyns, mark time at five hours.”
Jenkyns took a deep breath and crossed his arms, touching two fingers to his brow in a quick salute. “It has been an honor, sir.”
Admiral Byrd pulled his hand out of his pocket, slightly bowed his head as he pressed both hands flat on his chest. “And, it will still be an honor when we jump to your coordinates.” Then he stiffened and dropped his arms to his sides, standing erect. “Jump on my mark, Jenkyns.” The hologram bleeped out. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One—jump!”
Starship Taranis brightened like a small star on the vid screen, then collapsed into itself, successfully jumping to another space. Admiral Byrd kept his eyes where Taranis had been, observing the remnants of the energy disbursements of a jump, seeing them slowly fade away. He wondered if this would be the last time he’d ever see energy remnants, then yelled, “Full speed ahead!”
∞
Lieutenant Eden's Thunderbird rocked backwards for a second as an explosion burst in front of her. She propelled her bird over two thousand miles per hour through a fiery cloud, flying through yet another one of her kills. She pulled to the right on her control stick, surprised to see another enemy already in her sights. She pulled the trigger, hit her mark and flew through the glittery entrails of a once fully intact enemy fighter. Behind her, now more than a hundred miles away, was her home, Brigantia.
Sweat seeped through her hair, wetting the soft inside lining of her striated helmet. Outside, blasts coming from friend and foe dotted space. Everything was chaos. Shouts, incoherent dialogue with screams carried through her com link in a nonstop stream. It all filled her mind, combining into one monotonous cry—reminders of the deceased, the exploded, the dead.
Her Thunderbirds were outnumbered four to one and the commanders who had led them into battle were the first to fall, leaving her as the last one in charge.
Checking her HDC, she spotted Brigantia's Alpha Group, the combination of three teams totaling 52 Thunderbirds. She saw Brigantia's Delta and Gamma group still holding their own, but they had only 26 Thunderbirds remaining.
Taranis groups were fairing much better, totaling 108 fighters in all. They had always been better trained than the other starship fighters, especially Brigantia that was famed more for its Marines—the Brigantia Guard. The pilots of Taranis were the usual winners of the starfighter games held annually on Lumus.
Lumus. Eden shook her head. For a moment she had lost her concentration, thinking about
what was lost and what she may never see again.
But, she quickly wiped a sweaty palm on her flight suit and spun out of the way of an oncoming attacker, barely missing its heavy laser impulse fire. Her heart beat picked up and she blinked several times. That was a close one and she knew she had to come up with a plan of action. They were losing the battle, and losing big.
Torquing her Thunderbird to the right, she disengaged from the fight, noting zero enemy fighters on her six.
She turned off the com link. “Power down.” Instantly, her Thunderbird powered off. Any heat or electrical signatures coming off her bird would be invisible to all sensors, buying her some much needed time to devise an attack plan. In a sense, she was invisible.
As her Thunderbird floated in space, she observed the occurring devastation. Thunderbirds and enemy fighters alike were ballooning into fire. Ion cannons and laser impulses traced the black space before her, missing and hitting targets. And, two large red pyramids, probably similar to starships, were coming closer and closer to the fight.
She tapped her forehead between the eyes—a strategy she used for tests and for staying focused. It also helped her to think outside of the box and it usually worked. “Think, think,” she muttered, continuing to tap.
The enemy fighters were precise, rarely making mistakes. They worked as a team. But what was baffling was that for such elite attackers, these enemies didn't seem to know what to do when you got behind them. They became sitting targets, as if they had never experienced being chased. There was the random enemy that could skillfully evade an attack, but most of them were very poor at it. The only problem was actually getting behind them.
“That's it!” No, she shook her head. It couldn't be that simple. Watching more closely as the battle transpired, she singled out one Thunderbird being chased by an attacker. Another Thunderbird came in and around that enemy, flying right behind it. In seconds, the enemy was a fiery mess, and had taken no evasive action while being followed from behind.
It couldn't be that easy. They don't know what to do while being chased, or they don't understand the element of being surprised. They lock up and allow death to come? Why?
Why didn't matter. If simple works, she had to do it.
“Open com link.” She swiped the salty sweat from her lips. “Alpha group, teams one, two, and three, we change our plan of action.” She found an empty sector on a map on her HDC. It was perfect. “Move to zero-one-six, I repeat, zero-one-six. Now!”
She powered on her Thunderbird, pressing it forward to the coordinates. She watched as her starfighters immediately disengaged, taking evasive maneuvers as they headed for the rendezvous point.
“Team One and Two, form a flock. Team three, create an arrow. When we meet at the specified coordinates, you better bet you'll have a hundred fighters on your asses.” She looked at her HDC. She would get to zero-one-six in less than a minute, just before the teams. “Team One, when I give the order to break left, I will say 'one'. Confirm order!”
Team One confirmed and she continued, “Team Two, when I give the order to break right, I will say 'two'. Confirm!”
Again, voices confirmed. “Team Three, you are the closest group to the coordinates. Continue arrow formation and swing around behind me. I'll be at the coordinates before you. When you are there, turn off your Thunderbirds and float. We’ll be invisible to their sensors. When the enemy flies by us, we’ll re-engage thrusters and blast them to dust! Do you confirm?”
Hearing their answers and knowing they'd do what she asked, she reached zero-one-six quicker than she thought, then turned around and shut down her Thunderbird. “Team Three, get behind me. The rest, don't mind us and continue to sector.” She looked at her HDC and saw hundreds of enemy fighters hot on the tails of her starfighters. She floated, watching Team Three flying directly at her. When they arrived, they did as requested and swung around behind her and shut down their birds.
So far, so good.
Up ahead, Teams One and Two were flying in flock formation, heading straight toward her, but more importantly, hiding her and Team Three from enemy view. She floated with Team Three and waited, placing her finger on the trigger. Her eyes closed, her mind spinning. She hoped this worked. If it didn’t, they’d be a pack of floating craft just waiting to be blasted, and this could be the last time she’d ever have a thought…the last time her heart would ever beat. Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath, then glanced at her HDC. It estimated that Team One and Two would arrive within twenty seconds.
She clenched her teeth. She had to get this right. She was setting up an ambush and the timing had to be perfect. If she was correct, this would increase the odds of their survival. If she was wrong, she'd be another fiery dust cloud in space. She figured that since chasing the enemy made them vulnerable, once they flew past, she and Team Three would fire up their Thunderbirds, sneak up on the enemy from behind and blast a bunch of them to smithereens!
The enemy, she thought. Who the hell are they? It didn't matter. What she was attempting to do was an untested gamble but she was fresh out of options, other than watching her friends all die trying to save what was left of their fleet. This, at least, might give them a chance.
Ten seconds displayed on her HDC. Hold tight, everyone. Trust me on this.
An explosion of fire erupted at the back of Team One's flock formation. One of her friends, perhaps someone she had trained, now gone.
Four seconds.
“One!” she shouted. “Two!”
Team one broke left and team two broke right, suddenly parting. She could see that the enemy craft hadn’t detected her or Team Three at all. They simply continued to chase Teams One and Two.
“Team Three, fire at will!”
She switched on her Thunderbird and slammed her starfighter to full throttle, quickly catching up to the enemy fighters with weapons locked. She pulled the trigger. Blue ion flashes blasted from her cannons, shooting ion phasers through the black of space, striking and bursting apart her target. She saw ion tracers from her team zipping past her, hitting a myriad of enemy craft. Explosions and flames filled the space in front of her, lighting her cockpit with yellow and red lights, mirroring the external destruction.
And, to her amazement, the enemies weren't even fazed. They continued their pursuit, ignoring the fact that they’d just lost twenty or so of their own craft in a matter of seconds. It was as if they didn't know or care about it. They were not leaving their targets, and not eluding the ion blasts from behind.
This didn't make sense but she had to continue with her strategy, which at the moment was clear-cut. She ordered over the com link, “Pursue the enemy and destroy.”
Team Three, split. Some followed her and pursued the enemy chasing Team two, others went after those chasing Team one.
Eden settled behind an enemy craft and pulled the trigger, destroying yet another one.
A crackle came over her com link. “Eden, move your team out of the way!”
Admiral Byrd? Taking her eyes off another target she was about to blast, she spotted Brigantia heading right toward her formation. “All Teams, 90 degrees out of here!” She glanced at her HDC screen. “Coordinate zero-one-nine.”
As she turned her craft, swinging around to about 90 degrees and heading toward the new coordinates, she spotted the pyramids. Although they were far away, they still had managed to cover a lot of distance within a short period of time. Several small blips on her screen told her that more enemy craft had launched and were coming her way, most likely to intercept Brigantia's sudden offensive play.
Where's Taranis? A bright, white light abruptly flashed between her and the pyramids, then a large object appeared. Eden froze, letting go of the control stick, taking a hold of it a second later. “Oh, no!”
Starbase Matrona, which she thought was gone and dead, had jumped into enemy space with several enemy craft immediately heading toward it. If Eden could have created the worst possible scenario, this would be it.
&
nbsp; A loud beeping sound came from her HDC. Glancing at it, she did her best to control herself. Two photon torpedoes had launched from the pyramids and were heading directly for Matrona. The starbase was defenseless.
∞
Through the hologram, Crystal viewed a broad shouldered humanoid, thicker and much taller than any human she'd ever seen. It was outside banging a strange metallic device against the Mech Bay door. A giant? It can't be. Those are only children's stories.
The humanoid wore a gray and green space suit. It had dorsal fin spines coming off its gray helmet and down the suit's spine. The helmet also covered the entirety of the head and face, masking any facial features. A triangular craft was parked not far away, and was probably the same one that had taken Hendricks' life and then tried to take hers.
Crystal ran over to Daf and slid both of her hands under her armpits. A blast sounded, giving Crystal a start and making her drop Daf back to the floor. Crystal crouched and peeked over a desk. She held her breath. Oh, no! No, no, no! The inevitable had occurred. The bay door was gone, blown off of its hinge and she had to move, had to do something, anything, and fast!
Then she remembered that the door she had opened to get into the office was unlocked! She quickly crawled over to it, reached her hand up to a panel in the wall and pressed a few buttons, locking the door.
Another bang sounded from Mech Bay. She dropped to the floor on her stomach and started pulling herself back toward Daf by using only her arms, as if her legs were inoperative.
What am I doing? Go, go, go! She moved her legs, pressing her knees into the floor. Reaching Daf, she pulled her behind a desk and slapped her. “Daf, wake up. Daf!” Daf remained unconscious. Crystal shook her head. Dammit!
She peeked around the corner of the desk to look out of the office window. She saw the humanoid crouching next to her downed Mech, inspecting it, easily seeing that the Mech's hatch had been opened and knowing that someone had escaped.
The humanoid turned its head and looked into the window. Even though Crystal couldn't see its eyes through its mask, she knew it was staring directly at her. Then it stood to its full height. The enormity of the individual was terrifying and almost surreal. It was as tall as one of the twelve foot Mechs, and just as wide. Crystal ducked back behind the desk and slapped Daf a couple of more times, whispering, “All you did was faint—why are you still unconscious? Wake up or I'm leaving you here!”