Turning, Keryn came face to face with a muscular Pilgrim. His blond hair hung over his forehead and he smiled disarmingly as he leaned against the wall.
“Adam!” Keryn exclaimed, hurrying over to his side. “Yen told me you were around. I was wondering how long it would be before you showed up.”
Much as Yen had done for the months since the memorial service, Adam had written Keryn as well at her request, telling the few stories he had of her brother prior to his death. “Sorry, Keryn. We Infantry grunts don’t get a lot of chances to mingle with the right and proper Fleet people.”
Keryn caught him unaware as she punched him hard in the gut. “Right and proper? You take that back right now,” Keryn scolded while, simultaneously, smiling mischievously.
“Break it up, you two,” Yen called, stepping around the nose of the ship. “We have work to do here.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Adam muttered under his breath. Reaching down, he hoisted a heavy box full of equipment, supplies that the insurgent team would need once they breached the Defiant’s hull.
Keryn turned away from Adam and stepped over to Yen’s side. She quickly changed the subject. “How does the Cair Ilmun look? We ready to put her in the air?”
“She’s perfect,” Yen said, though his eyes were no longer on the ship. “I think she’ll do you proud.”
“I only hope I can return the favor.”
Yen heard voices behind him and turned as the rest of the Infantry soldiers approached the ship. Wearing their heavy body armor and carrying a full complement of weapons, all modified to fire nonlethal shots, the Infantry looked significantly deadlier than did Keryn, who wore only her piloting coveralls.
Whispering, so as not to be heard by the rough soldiers, Yen gave Keryn some advice. “Remember confidence. That should be your watchword while you’re flying. No matter how tough these guys are and how much they may intimidate you, you are still in charge of this ship. Never forget it.”
The insurgent team pulled up short, eyeing their new pilot. Though Yen’s words were still fresh in Keryn’s mind, their meaning seemed lost on her. She raised her hand in a sheepish wave. “Hi,” was all she managed to say.
The soldiers walked past her with barely a hint of recognition, climbing aboard the ship. Keryn cursed herself silently.
Hi? the Voice said condescendingly in her head. These are experienced soldiers and all you could manage was a weak hello? We are definitely going to have to work on that.
“Oh yes, that was the confidence I was referring to,” Yen added, echoing the Voice’s sentiments as he walked past her and climbed aboard.
Keryn frowned, feeling her own irritation. The Voice had been remarkably silent for so long; it was frustrating to hear it resurface. All Wyndgaarts were born with the Voice, a mental culmination of generations of fighting skills passed down genetically to each future warrior. When reaching maturity, it was commonly accepted that a Wyndgaart will merge with their Voice, thereby accessing all the contained memories of their ancestors. The merging, called Initiation, was what allowed skilled students to become the universe-renown Wyndgaart warriors. But, Keryn knew, that knowledge came with a price. With the merger came a loss of individual personality. Instead of the person you were, you became an overlapping personification of hundreds of your ancestors. Keryn had fought against the Voice, often ignoring it, so that she could follow her own path to the Fleet Academy. She was proud of her decision, but while the Voice seemed to find interest in building her confidence, it was also one of the biggest reasons she suffered from indecision. It was difficult to make a proper decision when your own mind was constantly contradicting you.
She turned and followed the others on board. As she entered the crew compartment, most of the Infantry were already seated, their large weapons stored beside them and their bags locked into place above. Already frustrated, Keryn shoved her way past the couple soldiers still standing in the middle of the compartment. She expected a muttered insult or two, but heard nothing in response. If the only thing they would respond to is violence, then Keryn was pretty sure she would give them more than they could handle.
Slipping into the forward cockpit, Keryn found Yen already seated in the copilot’s chair. Without sparing him a word, Keryn sat in her own seat and strapped the throat microphone around her neck. Flipping a series of switched above her, she started the initial sequence to ignite the plasma engines.
“Forget about them,” Yen said as he checked the gauges and computer display. “You want to impress them, show them what you can do at the controls of a ship. Get them where they need to be and they’ll be yours forever.”
Managing little more than a grunt in recognition, Keryn pressed a button and the exterior doors to the ship slid shut. The radio crackled as the Squadron Commander activated the internal ship channel.
“Revolution Squadron, this is Squadron Commander Garrix,” the gravelly voice called to the ships as they all began preflight warm ups. “Have all ships in position in three mikes. We will decompress the hangar at that time and begin the combat scenario.”
Piloting one of the Cair ships, Keryn knew that she had a while before she would be required to pull her ship out of its alcove and get on line. Through the thick window of the cockpit, Keryn could barely make out the dozens of Duun fighters as they rolled into their start positions.
“We have a couple minutes before you have to move,” Yen said, “so let’s go over everything one more time.”
Keryn nodded and began reciting the training Yen had been drilling into her since her arrival onboard. “Hang back. Let the Duun’s engage. Look for an opening. Stop for nothing.” She knew that Cair Ilmun wasn’t made for head-to-head combat. Like she had learned in the Academy, her role in combat was to keep her crew alive long enough to board an enemy ship. Once the Duun fighters had the enemy ships sufficiently engaged in combat, she would fly through any gaps in the sea of machine gun and missile fire until finally docking with the enemy vessel. Tapping her nails impatiently on the console in front of her, Keryn ran through the multitude of things that could go wrong in those four simple steps.
“You forgot the most important one,” Yen added. “Relax! You’re making me nervous.”
Keryn smiled weakly. “I just want to make sure I do this right. I’m the most junior pilot in the Squadron. I’ve got a lot to prove.”
“Then go out there and do what you do best.” Looking down, Yen watched the blinking red light turn a solid green. “It’s time to get into position.”
Rolling the Cair Ilmun forward, she took her place at the back of one of five lines of ships. The sheer volume of fighters and transport ships filling the hangar was staggering. The thought of all those ships, and an equal number from the Defiant, all weaving through one another in open space seemed overwhelming. The Academy had put her through a litany of simulations and shown her video of space combats during the Great War between the Alliance and Empire, but it was nerve-wracking to know that she would soon be fully engaged in a similar combat.
The lights in the hangar dimmed, replaced by a harsh red illumination. A dull roar filled the room as the breathable oxygen was vented from the hangar bay. As the massive door on the far end of the bay cracked open, the sea of stars and distant galaxies glowed against the inky curtain of empty space.
“We are a go!” Garrix called over the radio. “Launch in sequence!”
As the ships fired their plasma engines, they launched from the hangar bay, exiting into the void beyond. In Keryn’s eyes, having never seen an assault on such a grand scale, it reminded her of angry insects swarming from a disturbed hive. The ships flew from the Revolution, spreading as they exited and filling the space beyond.
Turning her ship and taking her place near the top right of the Revolution’s hull, Keryn was able to see the distant Defiant moving into position. As the hangar doors on their rival ship opened, distant specks poured from the ship’s underbelly, filling the area in front of the large Cruiser. For
a moment, though Keryn knew it to be false, there was an illusion that time had stopped. The two forces seemed to hang in empty space, staring at one another in eager anticipation for the other side to make a move. But Keryn knew that more was happening than she could perceive. Though there was no sound and no true sense of motion, Keryn’s gauges said otherwise. The two forces were hurtling forward at incredible speeds, covering the distance between the Cruisers, eventually crashing violently into one another.
The Duun fighters from both ships disappeared into a sea of exchanged laser fire and faux rocket launches. Many of the ships’ hulls were instantaneously illuminated by red lights on their hulls, a signal that they had been incapacitated or destroyed. Shutting down the engines, the pilots drifted as no more than obstacles around which the other Duun fighters danced in their brutal ballet.
To Keryn’s left and right, a few of the other Cair ships launched forward. She had to assume that they saw openings that she did not. In honesty, though, Keryn found it difficult to believe there would ever be a sufficient gap through which she could fly the Cair Ilmun. The Duun fighters created a wall of armored hulls and exchanged gunfire that seemed nearly impenetrable.
Yen noticed her hand twitching near the controls. “Not yet,” he said calmly. “Wait for an opening.”
More and more of the Cair ships moved, though she already saw a number of them disabled in the cloud of dodging ships. Keryn remembered Yen’s words about winning over the Infantry by keeping them alive. She couldn’t imagine the irritation the other insertion groups must be feeling, drifting in a lifeless ship, knowing that they had been killed without ever being able to lift a weapon in their own defense.
“All Cair ships, move forward,” Garrix ordered over the radio.
“Not yet, Keryn,” Yen said sternly.
She looked left and right, realizing that she was the only ship not moving forward. Her hands itched, jumping at the opportunity to fire the plasma engines and finally engage in combat. What did all the other pilots see that she did not? They were all moving confidently, as though they stood a chance of making it through the hail of gunfire between the two Cruisers. Maybe the Squadron Commander was right.
“Cair Ilmun,” Garrix called. “Why have you not moved forward? Move out now.”
“Don’t do it,” Yen warned.
Listen to him, the Voice agreed. It’s not time, not yet.
“Cair Ilmun, you will engage.”
Keryn saw over half of the other Cair ships floating, already destroyed during their mock combat. Fear rose in her throat as she realized the technique they had adopted. It was a war of attrition. No matter how many Cair ships were destroyed, always enough slipped through to invade the opponent’s vessel. More than anything, Keryn didn’t want to wind up like all the others that hadn’t made it through. Fighting a war of attrition just didn’t make sense to her.
“What is the problem, Magistrate Riddell?” the Squadron Commander barked over the radio, his gravelly voice full of irritation.
“Hold your position,” Yen said over the aggravated Commander. “Don’t listen to him.”
Keryn’s hand moved to the console, but her fingers remained hovering above the keys to engage the engine. She didn’t know who was right and who to trust. She believed Yen and knew that he had her best interest at heart, but he had been serving in the covert operations during all his combat experience. He didn’t have any combat experience as a pilot. On the other hand, Keryn seriously doubted Garrix had any experience either.
“Magistrate Riddell, I am ordering you to move out!”
He’s wrong, the Voice replied. He’s going to get you killed.
Conflicted, Keryn let her hand drop and activated the engine. The Cair Ilmun shot forward and dove toward the weaving Duun fighters. Scanning side to side, Keryn searched eagerly for any opening in the sea of ships, some miraculously obvious pathway through the throng of fighters that would lead her to the Defiant. Though she searched, nothing became apparent.
“Watch on your left!” Yen called out.
Keryn saw the Duun fighter breaking contact and diving toward her ship. She saw the fire leap from the spinning machine guns as she dipped her own wings, sending the Cair Ilmun into a roll. Though she saw numerous flashes of near missed shots, she moved out of range without being shot down. She smiled slightly and sighed, but her relief was quickly washed away as two more Duun fighters moved toward her ship. The Duun fighters, aside from eliminating one another, were tasked with the sole responsibility of destroying missiles or boarding ships that threatened their Cruiser. Even a single boarding party had the capability to completely destroy a Cruiser with a well-placed series of explosives. The Duun fighters would do all they could to destroy Keryn long before she could reach the Defiant.
Dodging left and right, Keryn saw the streak of a mock missile nearly miss their right wing. Tilting the ship upward, Keryn opened fire. With great satisfaction, she saw red lights flare on the leftmost Duun as she eliminated it from combat. In her celebration, however, she failed to notice the other Duun drop from behind the first, using its destroyed hull as cover. The flashes of machine gun fire glared through the thick cockpit window. Red lights lit up across the console, warning of multiple strikes to their hull. A warning claxon sounded loudly throughout the ship moments before her engines began to shut down.
Across the console before her, a single word replaced the gauges and screens: Destroyed.
Dead in the water, the Cair Ilmun drifted in space as the battle raged on. The only sounds Keryn could hear were the disappointed cursing of the Infantry now trapped in the back of her ship, dead without ever being able to lift a weapon in their own defense.
Walking down the hall, back toward her living quarters, Keryn bit back tears of frustration at her loss during the battle. After landing, none of the Infantry had bothered to spare her a second glance as they disembarked and walked back toward the debriefing room. Only Yen and Adam had stayed behind, though conversation was minimal and terse.
She didn’t turn as she heard a hurried set of running footfalls behind her. A hand closed over her arm and spun her around. Yen stared at her, the jovial smile gone from his face. She matched his intensity with an angry look of her own.
“You here to tell me how much I screwed up?” Keryn growled. “Believe me, I can take care of reliving my failure all on my own.” Jerking, she broke free from his grip.
“That’s not why I’m here,” Yen replied sternly. “Yes, you screwed up, but you screwed up because you didn’t listen. If you do something like that when we finally face the Terrans, there won’t be another chance to beat yourself up. We’ll all be dead.”
“Don’t you think I already know that?” Keryn yelled at him. “And I did listen. I was ordered by the Squadron Commander to engage, and I engaged. I follow orders, Yen.”
“You’re right, you do. But that’s the one thing that you did wrong. The one thing you need to remember above all else is that when you’re in the cockpit, flying the Cair Ilmun, there is no one else that has a better view of the combat than you. Not Garrix, not the Revolution, not even me. When we’re in combat, you are the Captain of the ship. You answer to no one else. If it looks wrong, you disobey orders because, deep down, you know that it will save lives. You listened to someone who thought they knew better than you. But up there, no one knows better than you.”
Keryn sighed heavily. “And what do you propose I do next time?” she asked flatly.
“You want to find out? Then I propose you go out to dinner with me tomorrow,” Yen said. Keryn arched an eyebrow in confusion. “I have some ideas that I think will help us out next time we fly. If you’re interested, come to dinner with me tomorrow night and we can talk tactics.”
Feeling some of her animosity flood from her body, Keryn allowed herself a little smile. “When you asked me out to dinner, this isn’t exactly what I expected.”
“Business first, fun later,” Yen explained with a broad smile.
“Fine,” Keryn conceded. “Tomorrow night. It’s a date.”
She turned before Yen could figure out a quick witted retort and stepped onto one of the lifts. As the doors closed, she gave him a playful wave. Yen shook his head in wonderment as he took the next lift down to his own room, still not sure if Keryn was the single most brilliant pilot he had ever encountered or the single craziest. In the end, he realized he really didn’t care one way or the other.
CHAPTER THREE
The twelve Alliance Cruisers orbited the bloated gas giant, each in their own elliptical path, pacing the empty space like caged animals hungry for their next meal. Captain Hodge, sitting in the Captain’s chair onboard the Revolution, looked nearly as agitated and feral. Her feathery white wings shook in irritation as she frowned, unhappy with the current situation.
“Anything yet?” she asked Magistrate Young, the Uligart Communications Officer.
Young looked nervous as he replied. “Sorry, ma’am. Nothing yet.”
Captain Hodge sighed as she sunk deeper into her chair. For weeks, the Revolution and her sister ships had been on high alert, knowing that they could be called to duty at any time; called to hunt down and eliminate the Terran Destroyers. Yet, for all their bluster and repetitive training, no assignment had been forthcoming. She could nearly sense the tension seeping through the ship. Small fights had broken out, mainly between Infantry and Fleet soldiers. In garrison, such rivalries were ignored, often times welcomed, since the competitive nature drove both sides to excel. In a time of war, especially the first major public confrontation between the Alliance and the Empire in nearly one hundred and fifty years, Captain Hodge had neither the latitude nor the patience to deal with any disagreement that left a member of her crew in the infirmary.
A gentle cough woke Captain Hodge from her meditation. Looking over, her head leaning heavily on her hand in a show of discontent, the Captain noticed Young’s patient look. “Yes, Magistrate Young?”
Fall of Icarus Page 3