Jack of Harts 2: Angel Flight

by Medron Pryde

  The British captain let out a long, unwilling breath. “They seemed…uncertain of the safety of Third Fleet.”

  “I see,” Wyatt said, her voice even harder.

  “We have to go back,” Jack blurted out, almost without realizing it. Enterprise needed him. The response was so instinctive he didn’t think twice. His eyes scanned the other people in the room and saw the same response in the other fighter pilots. They’d all left people behind and every last one of them was willing to jump right back in without even thinking. He could have kissed them. Even the guys.

  But the ship captains stared at him with horror in their eyes. They’d gotten their people out against all odds. They’d just escaped overwhelming firepower by the skins of their collective teeth. And he could see in their eyes the outrage, and the fear under it, at the jumped up fighter pilot saying they had to charge back into that Hell. He wasn’t certain if any if them would follow such an order at the moment. Jack could have kicked himself.

  “Major. Hart.” Captain Wyatt uttered the words separately, emphasizing both the rank and the name with an Ice Age’s worth of cold, and Jack met her eyes again. There was no fear in them at all. There wasn’t even anger. That surprised him. She sounded angry. Very angry in fact. But that anger didn’t reach her eyes. What did was determination to use every opportunity she had. And she saw an opportunity in his slip. “Did I stutter, and somehow suggest that I was anything other than in command?” she said, her voice still arctic-cold. But the eyes added something else. She had a plan and she needed him to trust her.

  “No, Ma’am,” he returned, once again without pause, and watched the ship captains relaxing in the corner of his eyes. The fighter pilots bristled though. They were all made of different cloth than the ship captains. Pilots always were. Once again, Jack could have kissed them. And there were a few he would have been happy to kiss more than once.

  “Good,” Wyatt said with a curt nod towards him. Then she turned back to the captains. “We leave for Serenity, now.”

  “This is a joint task force of the Western Alliance,” Alexander protested. “Command authority clearly falls to the senior military commander. Admiral Bainsworth---”

  “Is not here,” Wyatt interrupted, giving the man a knowing look. “I suppose you would argue that as long as he continues to not be here, command should devolve to one of his captains?”

  The sound of Alexander’s jaw snapping shut came like a thunderclap in the silence that followed her charge. She smiled as he failed to deliver an answer and shook her head.

  “This is an American task force, operating under American orders. I am the senior American commander and I will maintain American command. You may convoy with us if you wish, but we have a mission to perform, Captain Alexander.” Wyatt cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Am I clear?”

  The British captain nodded jerkily.

  “Good,” Wyatt said, her voice hard as stone, and turned to Gabrielle. “Set course for the Epsilon Reticuli-Serenity Run and initiate at your discretion.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Gabrielle answered and went to work.

  Jack scanned the other captains, seeing approval in the American faces. A mix of resignation and indignation colored the faces of the British officers though. The fighter pilots looked annoyed, as if they’d just missed out on another good fight. They nodded approval towards Jack, followed by reluctant agreement with Wyatt. Then the pilots and captains began to flicker out, one at a time, until only Wyatt, Roberts, Jack, and their cybers remained.

  “Well done, Captain,” Jack said in approval, waiting to see if he’d read her right.

  “Thank you,” Wyatt answered. She examined him for several seconds before continuing. “I could not have done it without you.”

  Jack cleared his throat. “Thank you,”

  “Can you tell me the error you made?” Wyatt asked, raising both eyebrows.

  Jack scowled. “If you’d ask the pilots, I didn’t make one,” he returned, feeling his inner contrarian goat stand up and want to kick something.

  Wyatt chuckled. That caught him off guard, and he cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Yes. You got their approval quite well,” she conceded. “I meant your mistake with the ship captains.”

  Jack winced. “Yes. I…didn’t…”

  “You didn’t think before you opened your mouth?”

  “No, Ma’am.” Jack hated to admit the mistake, but he throttled the angry goat and took her statement as gracefully as he could. He deserved it.

  Wyatt nodded in approval of his honesty. “Rule One of command is to never give an order that will not, or cannot, be followed.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Though the pilots would have followed it.”

  A curious smile filled her face, and she nodded slowly. “Yes, Major, they would have. You fighter pilots are truly a strange lot.” She shook her head and sighed. “But I do not believe Admiral Aneerin sent you all this way to charge into a battle that is almost certainly already over, one way or the other. Do you?”

  “No, Ma’am,” Jack answered through gritted teeth.

  “Yes,” Wyatt whispered. “He is always careful of which fights he engages in, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Jack answered again, hearing Aneerin’s voice in his head.

  “Never willingly engage in a fight guaranteed to end your ability to fight the next fight, unless it is indeed your very last fight.” Aneerin had waged both war and peace for two thousand years, and had not yet found that last fight. He would be disappointed if Jack found it in a mere two.

  “Good,” Wyatt said, and nodded towards Betty. “Now go take care of your people, Major. I do believe you have a situation.”

  Jack turned to see Betty nodding in agreement. “Yes, Ma’am,” Jack said once more, saluted Captain Wyatt, and turned to leave the briefing room. Moments later they were back on the lift, alone this time, and Jack aimed a set of raised eyebrows at Betty.

  Jasmine flickered into being beside them, shaking her head. “It’s Natalie. I’m trying, but she isn’t doing good. We’ll lose her if we can’t do something,” she reported.

  Jack nodded very slowly, considering their options. He needed to do something fast. He just didn’t know what. The lift opened into the hangar bay again and he saw android avatars at work, reloading both Hunter’s Hellcat and his Avenger. Jack froze, taking the sight in and feeling an idea somewhere.

  It clicked. He considered the idea, turned it around inside his mind, and finally nodded. It just might work.

  “Get me Recovery,” he ordered and strode onto the hangar deck with renewed purpose. He did indeed have people to take care of and he might be able to mend some ruffled feathers at the same time. Two birds with one stone was a challenge he savored.

  When I grew up, there weren’t many cybers around. We were a vacation community, a place to get away from all the hectic worlds. Part of the charm was really limited computer networks. I met my first cyber on a school trip to the Minnesota State Capitol. She said that we’re all human. We’re all created equal. We have the same rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I didn’t understand back then, but I think I do now. I try to let that understanding lead my actions.

  Recovery

  The Avenger’s cockpit locked shut, sealing Jack into the home his fighter had become once again. It was odd. Before Yosemite he’d never set foot in a real fighter. He’d played simulations of course. Who hadn’t? But now that he’d lived the real thing, he recognized just how limited those were. For one thing they lacked the two people that had enriched his life for the last two years.

  Betty and Jasmine flickered into existence atop the console, their uniforms already fading away. A sundress came into focus on Betty and Jack took a moment to smile as the color registered. Pink. Then Jasmine’s grey jeans and blue tank top appeared and Jack’s smile grew. So this was going to be an experimental day. He gave them two thumbs up and got down to business.

  “Reco
very?”

  “She’s coming in now,” Betty answered and looked to the side as another form began to appear.

  The name Emily came into focus first, followed by a soft face topped with brown hair. Then her torso, arms, and legs came into focus. The standard white and black British naval uniform snapped into existence in time with the scowl that covered her face. “Captain Hart,” she said in a frosty tone. She was obviously not happy about the recent briefing. That just made this more challenging.

  Jack gave her best winning smile and spread his arms out wide. “Ah, you’re just the ship I need.”

  The cyber’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What do you want?”

  “Why, only your expertise.” Jack said in a bright tone. “I hear you’re the best.”

  Emily crossed her arms over her white uniform shirt, recognizing the flattery for what it was and not trusting him at all. “I do not have all day.”

  Jack swallowed and sucked in a deep breath. She was not going to make this easy. Oh well. If it was easy anyone could do it. With that thought filling his mind he dove into his attempt to save a friend. “I’ve got a cyber that lost her pilot. She’s still kicking, but without something to make her want to stay she won’t much longer.” The other cyber nodded in pained understanding. “Can you build her an android avatar for me?”

  Betty and Jasmine gasped on either side of him and Recovery’s cyber frowned. “Doesn’t that go against American regulations?”

  Jack shrugged. “Technically, maybe.” He sighed at her knowing look. “Look, her pilot is dead. That opens up all kinds of contract loopholes for her. And besides you’re British. You don’t have to follow American regulations if you don’t want.”

  Emily’s frown deepened. “So you let Wyatt give us the heave ho when you don’t need us and now you ask me for a favor? Why should I help you?”

  “You’re not helping me,” Jack answered quickly, hoping to stave off her decision before it was made. “You’re helping a fellow cyber recover from a soul-wrenching loss,” he said, making sure to emphasize the name of her ship.

  The emphasis was not lost on the cyber and she pursed her lips at him. She didn’t like him using her name against her, but he could see her thinking about it. So Jack played another card. “She’ll die without you. Will you help me save her?” Jack paused a moment to gauge her reaction and then played one more. “Please?”

  Emily’s suspicious eyes locked onto him, gauging the sincerity of his words. He looked right back at her so she could see that he really meant it. Yes. An American was humbly asking for help. He would let her chew on that for a moment.

  Emily shook her head in resignation. “Very well. Give me her information and I will do what I can.”

  “Excellent. We’re on the way over right now,” Jack said with a nod towards Betty.

  “Wait a second,” Recovery’s cyber said in surprise.

  “You’re a real life saver,” Jack said over her objection and Emily’s jaw nearly clicked shut. Her eyes narrowed as the Avenger slipped out of Los Angeles’ hangar bay. He’d boxed her in with that comment and they all knew it. Still, she wasn’t done.

  “You can’t fit inside my hangar bay,” she pronounced with finality. She sounded and looked like God, pronouncing a law of nature.

  “We’ll walk over,” Jack rejoined with a smile, dodging the law she laid down. The Avenger vibrated around him as the main engines came to life, and they accelerated away from Los Angeles.

  She crossed her arms again and raised an eyebrow. “If you walk over here, I will have an android avatar ready for her by the time you arrive.”

  “Sounds like a date,” Jack answered and smiled at Betty.

  Betty just rolled her eyes and swung them around Adams. She weaved their fighter between Mendoza and Vargas, and the engines came to full standard power, shooting them towards the three British ships at the end of the formation.

  “I don’t see you walking yet,” Emily said, head cocked to the side.

  “I didn’t say I’d walk the whole way,” Jack returned as they passed Eclipse and Assault. The engines reversed, sending blue flames ahead of them into hyperspace, and the Avenger slowed to match speed with the medical frigate.

  Emily frowned at him. “You tricked me.”

  “I did no such thing,” Jack returned, his voice filled with innocence. Betty smiled on the console and brought them around to match course with Recovery. “And now, I do believe it is time for me to walk,” he added, examining the outside of the frigate. She was tall and narrow, like most British ships, narrowing to points fore and aft. Her thick middle section would be where most of her living quarters were, and one of her hatches should be just…about…there. He smiled as he saw it. “Betty?” he asked.

  She nodded and spun the Avenger so he could look straight “up” at the hatch, and he heard the air sucking out of the cockpit. The force field linking his cowboy hat with the collar of his uniform snapped into existence, and he took in a deep breath of canned air. It smelled stale. Even the best uniforms money could buy couldn’t get rid of that smell, unless they resorted to perfumes that one Jack Hart was not prepared to entertain. A man had to put his foot down somewhere after all.

  Once the air pressure in the cockpit read zero, the canopy opened him to space and Jack smiled for a moment. Then he disengaged his harness, swung his feet around to brace against the bottom of his chair, and kicked off. Betty gave him a boost from her gravity generator and hyperspace opened around him. He was alone in hyperspace, drifting with no ship around him. The roiling waves of gravity filled his view until they faded away in the distance, even making Los Angeles indistinct at the head of the formation. He flew towards Recovery and once again wondered why they called it space walking. He certainly wasn’t doing any walking at the moment.

  He felt Recovery’s gravity generators grab him, slowing his approach towards the target hatch, and he smiled. The hatch opened, he slipped in, and it closed as he stepped lightly onto what the warning bars told him would be a wall in a few seconds. Gravity disappeared and he kicked off the wall, spinning with care to place his feet on the future floor. When gravity came back on, he hit the floor with the balanced stance of a man accustomed to flexible definitions of up and down. The sound of air rushing into the airlock came through the force field, and it shut down a few seconds later.

  Jack pulled in a deep breath of Recovery’s air and nodded in appreciation. Every ship had a different smell, some pleasant, some not. He had to admit that this one was not the worst. He could pick up the taint of disinfectants and other medications in use. She was a medical frigate, so that went with the territory. But he also picked up the smell of true, living flowers and other plant life designed to mask the hospital odor.

  The inside hatch opened, and Jack stepped in to see Emily waiting for him in all her full-sized glory. A quick glance proved it was her true android avatar, not a holoform, and Jack smiled. It seemed he rated her personal attention.

  “I’m here,” he said, spreading both arms wide. “How goes the avatar-creation process?” he asked, waggling both eyebrows at her.

  “Faster than you ever thought,” Emily returned with a pointed look and turned to lead him down the corridor. “I have an avatar on the bench now. All I need is her specifications to begin the final personalization phase.”

  “Wow. You are quick,” Jack said, making sure to sound approving. “Betty?” he asked.

  Instead of nodding she looked to the side with a worried look. Jack followed her gaze to see a holoform flashing into existence in time to a slight increase in the hum coming from his uniform’s holoemitters. Black hair appeared first, followed by a disapproving face. The rest of Natalie’s form came into focus and Jack pursed his lips when he saw that she was most definitely not in uniform. Casual black pants and a floral-pattern blouse covered her frame, clashing with the harsh face.

  “No, Jack,” were the first words out of her mouth. “I know what you’re trying to do and
the answer is no,” she added.

  “Oh come on,” Jack mollified with raised hands, but continued to follow Emily. “I have faith in you. You’ll get the hang of a new body right soon.”

  Natalie shook her head as her holoform walked with him. “Not that. That’s easy.”

  “Then you’re halfway to recovery.” Jack waggled his eyebrows at her in amusement.

  Natalie shook her head at the bad pun. “I was born to be with him.”

  “Yes.” Jack let out a long breath and proceeded to give her serious advice he doubted she would like. “Move on.”

  Natalie’s lips pursed into a thin line. “You have no idea how hard that is.”

  “Actually I do,” Jack corrected.

  Natalie lowered her eyebrows at him in doubt. “How?”

  Jack looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Were you alive when the Shang attacked?”

  “No.” It was a simple statement but Jack remained silent, waiting for her to elaborate. Finally she sighed and continued. “Louis volunteered after the strikes. But my mother told me everything.”

  Jack sighed. “I saw it. Live and in full color. Me and my dad were fishing when the missiles started raining down on Washington. And I watched the missiles striking Yosemite Yards. My dad couldn’t see so well, but I got eagle eyes.”

  Natalie nodded.

  Jack cleared his throat. “I watched Yosemite fall. Pieces of it at least. I didn’t actually see it hit California of course, curvature of the Earth and all, but I could see not all the pieces were going down. They were spreading out before falling, and I saw them coming our way. I lived in northern Minnesota. One of the bigger pieces landed in the Boundary Waters, not far from my hometown.”

  “I’m sorry,” Natalie whispered.

  Jack shook his head. “I’m not finished.” He met her gaze and held it. “Me and dad got home as fast as our boat could take us. We got there before the wreckage hit. Barely. I opened the storm cellar and mom, dad, and me went down. We almost made it.”