by Linn Schwab
He hurried below and climbed into his fighter. By the time the cargo bay doors opened for him, the ships were already moving forward in formation. The San Gabriel was leading the way, with the Alabama and Johannesburg close on her tail, and the Sheffield bringing up the rear. Twelve squadrons of fighters patrolled the perimeter — half of the Johannesburg’s full complement.
After advancing beyond the San Gabriel, Peter pulled alongside one of the forward fighter squadrons. He waved at the captain and introduced himself.
“Captain Devin Lawlor,” his counterpart replied.
“Captain Lawlor,” he said, “you’re going to act as my lifeline. Make sure you keep the Alabama on your scanners. I’m flying out in front to scout the way, and I’ll need you to relay my reports to the admiral.”
“Happy to oblige. Good luck, Captain Straydel. Be careful out there.”
The Terrapin launched from Volaris first. The Wasp, the Sparrow, and the Coral followed.
“Line up in single file,” Carly ordered. The young captains pulled their ships in behind her. “Good,” she said, “now lock this heading into your instruments so you can use it to find your way back to Volaris.” She gave them a few seconds to complete the task, then spread the ships out in a search formation to maximize their radar coverage.
“Set your scanners on maximum and keep your ears open. We’re currently missing four destroyers in this area. The Gecko, the Violet, the Stingray, and the Pollywog. We’re also hoping to make contact with the Zephyr, or any of the pilots who were stationed on board her.”
The formation moved forward sweeping for contacts. For hours all they found were rocks and chunks of ice, and all their radio transmissions went unanswered. As they neared the tip of Pangea though, the Sparrow’s scanner detected a ship.
“We have a contact,” Trina reported. “It looks like a destroyer, but there are no energy readings.”
“Everyone hold up,” Carly ordered. “Trina, do you have visual contact?”
“Yes, we can see it. The ship is just drifting. There are no lights on.”
“Can you read the name yet?”
“Yes. It’s the Gecko. It looks like it got smashed up pretty bad.”
“Any chance of survivors?”
“I don’t know. We’ll move in closer and shine a light through the windows.” A moment later there were gasps of horror from her crew, and Trina shrieked, “Turn it off! Turn it off!”
Carly closed her eyes and shuddered. There would clearly be no survivors from the Gecko. “Let’s move on,” she said. “We still have work to do.”
The formation moved forward, silent and somber, with all ears focused on the radar alert. Moments later Trina spoke up again.
“Another ship,” she said. “We found another one.”
“Any signs of life?” Carly asked.
Trina seemed hesitant to answer. “No,” she said glumly. “There are no power readings, and no lights on the bridge. But it doesn’t seem to be as badly damaged as the Gecko.”
“What ship is it, Trina?”
“It’s the Violet. We’re almost close enough to see inside the bridge. Jessica,” she said, “turn the lights on again.” The radio fell silent for a moment.
“Do you see anything yet?” Carly asked.
“The bridge looks empty. I don’t see any bodies. It looks like the bulkhead door was left open, so it’s possible they’re somewhere in the back of the ship.”
Carly glanced around at her crew.
“Maybe they went in back when their fuel ran out,” Ellen suggested. “The last heat from the engines might have kept them warm for a while.”
“Someone’s gonna have to go on board,” Carly said. “And the suits are too big for our little sisters. Stay right where you are, Trina. I want all of us to rendezvous at the Violet. We’ll resume the search after we’ve checked out her interior. Judy and Christy, did you hear that?”
“Affirmative,” Judy replied.
“Just a minute,” Christy said. “It looks like we’re picking up a distress signal. It’s coming from straight ahead of us.”
“Can you confirm it’s a Sentinel vessel?” Carly asked her.
“Our instruments say it’s from the Pollywog.”
“Alright,” Carly said after weighing her options, “Judy and Christy, I want both of you to go render assistance to the Pollywog. We’ll meet up with you there after we check out the Violet. Be careful, you two. Terrapin, out.”
The Wasp and the Coral advanced side by side, continuing their radar sweep of the area. A dark shape slowly emerged from the fog.
“Destroyer ahead,” Rachel announced.
Christy glanced at the scanner output. “Something’s wrong,” she said. “There are no power readings.”
“Then how are they sending a signal?” Brooke asked.
“Right,” Christy said. “It doesn’t make sense. Dim the cabin lights and bring up the targeting display. Open the outer torpedo tube doors. Tabitha, whatever you do, make sure you keep that ship directly in front of us.”
“Christy, what are you doing?” Judy asked her. “We’re supposed to be helping them, not blowing them to bits.”
“Something’s wrong, Judy. This ship is dead. It shouldn’t be able to transmit a signal. Check the power readings on your scanner.”
“Alright,” Judy said, “but we’re going in together.”
Christy looked out through the starboard windows and watched as Judy made the Wasp battle ready.
“Ahead point five,” Judy ordered.
Both destroyers moved in closer. Christy kept her eyes on the ship’s weapon systems. The darkened vessel was slowly rotating, with the starboard side just coming into view. The torpedo doors were closed. The bridge was dark. Her scanner still insisted the ship was dead. When her eyes finally focused on the name of the ship, she realized it wasn’t the source of the signal.
“This ship isn’t the Pollywog,” she said. “It’s the Stingray. The Pollywog must be further on ahead.”
When they flew beyond the Stingray, the signal persisted, confirming Judy’s hunch had been correct. Moments later the Pollywog came into view.
“Pollywog, this is the Wasp,” Judy said. “Do you read me? Over.”
The Pollywog’s crew responded with cheers. “Boy are we glad to see you, little sisters! Do you have any extra fuel you can share with us?”
“Yes we do,” Judy said. “Our tanks are nearly full.”
As the Coral moved in closer to the Pollywog, Christy noticed there were more than seven girls on the bridge. “How many crews are on board your ship?” she asked.
“Three,” the captain told her. “The Stingray and Violet were running out of fuel, so we had to bring both of their crews on board, and bleed their tanks dry just to keep us all alive.”
“So how do we transfer fuel?” Judy asked.
“Just pull alongside us for right now, little sister. I’ll send someone outside to connect the tanks.”
After flying through fog for what seemed like an eternity, Peter finally caught a glimpse of something different in the distance.
“Captain Lawlor, you still with me?” he asked.
“Still with you, Captain Straydel. You got something?”
“I see a speck of light. Can’t tell if it’s moving. Still nothing on the radar, so it might be a star.”
“Shall I inform the admiral?”
“Hang on just a second.” He focused on the light as intently as he could, and suddenly his fighter emerged from the fog. “I’m out!” he said. “I can definitely see stars! Looks like there’s an asteroid field out in front of us.”
“Admiral,” the radio operator said, “another message just came through from Captain Straydel. Says he’s outside the fog, and he can see stars. He can also see an asteroid field dead ahead.”
A sense of relief rippled through the crew on the bridge.
Admiral Sands stared out through the forward windows. “Good. With any luck we
’ll be joining him shortly. Hold course for now. Lieutenant Porter, as soon as we’re in the clear, I want you to see if you can plot our position.”
“Yes, Admiral. Between the fog and the asteroids, it might take a few minutes to get an accurate reading.”
“Just make sure you’re set up and ready to go. Once we’re out in the open, the slightest delay could prove costly for us.”
An alert rang out from the radar console. “Radar contact!” the operator yelled. “Something’s coming at us from the starboard side!”
The admiral turned to him and asked, “What is it?”
“It’s definitely a ship. Looks like it might be a cruiser.”
“Can you tell if it’s one of ours?”
A barrage of shells detonated on the Alabama’s hull.
“I don’t think it’s one of ours,” the operator said.
“Sound general quarters!” Captain Schiffer yelled. “Prepare to return fire! Move us into position to shield the Johannesburg!”
A second barrage of shells struck the hull.
“That was fast,” the admiral observed. “They shouldn’t have had enough time to reload yet.”
“There’s more than one ship now,” the operator said. “The scanner shows two … no, make that three enemy cruisers. And it looks like there may be fighters as well.”
“How far are we behind Captain Straydel?”
“We’re trailing him by approximately six minutes, Admiral.”
“Captain Schiffer, let’s pick up the pace a little. We need to get outside this fog so we can see what we’re fighting.”
With the Cricket flying along the fog’s outer edge now, the reach of Robin’s scanners was greatly improved. Only to her left did the radar sweeps come up short. And left was where she needed to go right now. The near edge of Pangea was coming up on her right, which meant she was getting very close to Orion.
“Virginia,” she said, “are you sure you want us to stop at Orion? It looks like it’s still buried pretty deep in the fog.”
“Can you give me a heading?” Virginia asked.
“From our current heading, it should be thirty–seven degrees to port, at a range of sixty–two kilometers.”
“No,” Virginia said, “we’re not going in there. Let’s just keep flying straight through to Volaris.”
Within moments they were flying along a narrow gap, with the fog to their left and Pangea to their right. The Cricket’s scanner began sounding incessant alerts regarding motion inside the asteroid field.
“Virginia, is your scanner acting up?” Robin asked.
“Yes. There’s a lot of activity inside Pangea. But I think it’s just rocks bouncing off of each other. That comet must have really stirred things up in there. It could be a while before it settles down again.”
As he waited for the others to emerge from the fog, Peter continued flying on ahead, and quickly realized his scanner was giving him fits due to motion in the asteroid field straight ahead of him. He reached for the controls and said, “You’re not being helpful. How about we search for something a little more specific.” He set the scanner to focus on metallic objects, and right away the results died down to nothing. Satisfied, he swung his fighter back around to see if the small group of ships had appeared yet. Through the fog he noticed a bright flash of light that could only have come from the Alabama’s guns.
“Captain Lawlor, what’s going on back there?” he yelled.
“Oh, crap! We just got strafed by enemy fighters!”
“See if you can lead them to me!” Peter said. “I think I can see you! Just keep coming straight forward!” He put his finger on the trigger and waited for a target. Captain Lawlor’s squadron raced out of the fog and immediately broke hard to their right. On their tails was a squadron of enemy fighters struggling to hold their formation together. He squeezed the trigger when they entered his sights, scoring hits on three of the eight as they passed. One of them broke apart and tumbled away in pieces. Another swerved off course briefly, then regained control and continued onward, leaving a small trail of smoke in its wake. Blood in the water, Peter mused, and pushed his throttle forward to chase after her.
He caught her before she could rejoin with her squadron. His finger hesitated on the trigger. The trail of smoke was growing thicker, suggesting this pilot no longer posed a threat. Thoughts of mercy entered his mind, just like they had so many times before when he’d been faced with the decision of taking a life. But this time was different. I shouldn’t be here, he realized. And if not for an act of mercy, I wouldn’t. If I spare you, he wondered of the pilot he was chasing, will that inspire you in turn to spare someone else in the future? In that instant, one of the Johannesburg’s fighters flashed by him, and the fighter he was following burst into flames. Another pilot had made the decision for him. It seemed mercy was a difficult commodity to come by.
After enduring a few minutes of alarms from the scanner, Robin decided she’d had enough. The sound of the alert chime was wearing on her nerves. Not only that, but it was very distracting, and seemed to offer little benefit for all the annoyance it was causing.
“Sheri,” she said, “is there any way you can adjust that thing so it will only report what’s out in front of us?”
“I don’t know. I’ll see what I can do.” Sheri reached for her controls and made a few adjustments. The audible alerts gradually began to die down.
“Did it work?” Robin asked when the scanner fell silent.
“I’m not sure. Is there anything out in front of us right now?”
Robin looked at the forward camera feed, and could clearly see a rock straight ahead in the distance.
“Yes,” she said. “I guess that means it isn’t working.”
Sheri tweaked the controls a little more, and the scanner immediately found multiple contacts.
“Stupid rocks,” Robin muttered.
“No,” Sheri said, “I don’t think it’s the rocks. All of these contacts are coming from our left.”
When Robin looked to her left she saw ships and fighters exchanging fire near the edge of the fog. A rocket impacted on the Cricket’s port side, and a dozen or more fighters raced by all around her, splitting up and veering off in different directions.
“Robin, you need to find a place to hide!” Virginia told her. “It looks we just flew into a battle! Turn to your right and head straight for Pangea!”
“What about you?” Robin protested.
“I’m gonna try to keep them away from you. GO!”
As the Cricket swung to starboard to make her escape, something struck her from below, with a sufficient amount of force to push her stern upward. Though Caroline quickly managed to regain control, she appeared to be compensating for something. “Robin,” she yelled, “we’ve lost engine number three!”
“Take us into Pangea!” Robin told her. Through the port windows, she saw Virginia’s fighter fly away. Seconds later she saw a pair of explosions in the distance.
“Virginia, are you alright?” she pleaded.
“Get to cover, Captain Starling. Don’t worry about me. Your first responsibility is to your own crew.”
An enemy fighter circled in from above, and another rocket came streaking toward the Cricket.
Although counting fighters in the heat of battle was beyond the realm of possibility at this point, Peter decided from what he was seeing that the numbers on both sides were fairly even. If the rest of my squadron was here, he told himself, the odds would be shifting toward our favor in no time. As it was, he’d already destroyed three fighters on his own, and seen several more taken out by the Johannesburg’s pilots. But the enemy appeared to be holding their own. Neither side had yet managed to gain the upper hand.
As he checked his surroundings for threats or targets, he noticed a pair of explosions nearby. Out of the smoke flew a single enemy pilot, who appeared to have another Earth pilot in her sights. Like Peter, she was flying an unmarked fighter, so fresh it didn’t e
ven have squadron numbers on its tail. “Big mistake, young pilot,” he counseled her, assuming she must be inexperienced. “You should never engage an enemy fighter all alone. There’s always someone who will find a way to sneak up behind you.”
He banked to his left to bring his guns to bear on her and carefully placed his finger on the trigger. But her target swerved right, and so did she, forcing Peter to change direction as well. Before he could reel her in again though, his eyes caught sight of an enemy destroyer apparently attempting to withdraw from the battle. Since it posed no threat to him and appeared to be retreating, he gave it no more than a passing glance, and refocused his attention on the fighter he was chasing. But in that quick glance his eyes caught the name Cricket, and suddenly the battle seemed of far less importance. Here was the chance he’d been hoping for to make contact with someone who understood compassion. If he could just get that ship alone for a few minutes, perhaps he could establish some kind of dialogue, or find a way to communicate with its captain.
Before he could go after the Cricket though, he first had to finish off the pilot he was chasing before she could finish off the pilot she was chasing. Regardless of the opportunity at hand, he couldn’t just abandon one of his own while an enemy fighter was breathing down his neck.
With his finger on the trigger, he tried to close the gap so he could get an accurate shot at his target without also hitting his fellow pilot. “Just a little more to the left,” he whispered. She rebuffed his advance by shifting to the right while at the same time keeping her target in front of her.
“Alright,” he said, “we’ll do it your way,” and mimicked her maneuver as precisely as he could. Again she was able to frustrate his efforts without backing off of the pilot in her sights. Once again he steadied his finger on the trigger, even more determined to put an end to her pursuit. Before he could line up a shot at her though, she fired a rocket and rolled out to her right, leaving him to plow through a cloud of fighter fragments.
“Son–of–a–” he cursed, pulling hard to his left to avoid as much of the debris as he could. In that instant his priorities changed. The Cricket would have to wait a while longer. This enemy pilot had to be stopped before she could track down another target. He looked for her as he veered to his left, and finally spotted her circling around to meet him. And then he realized, in sudden and complete astonishment, that he was to be her next target.