Oblivion: The Complete Series (Books 1-9)

by Joshua James

  “Sorry, lady,” Wan said. “I wish you luck, I really do, but this ain’t our fight, so we ain’t gonna die in it. Falcon, plot a course for the nearest Jupiter station. Use the Waterman-Lau ID codes. They’ll just think we’re freelance delivery fliers.”

  “With pleasure,” Falcon replied. He used the nav system in his highly advanced HUD and pinpointed the coordinates to the nearest Jupiter station.

  The Jupiter stations, in the gaseous planet’s orbit, were much like sanctuary stations in that they were neutral ground, free from fighting. That said, each station was operated by private companies, who were often funded by either the AIC or UEF, so depending on your allegiance in the war, you had to choose your station carefully. It wasn’t unusual for, say, AIC spies to get discovered, be subdued, and wake up in UEF prisons if they chose the wrong one.

  As Falcon went about redirecting the Orion, LeFay silently rebelled. Yes, the pirate pilot had evolved and installed a highly advanced system and plugged himself into it surgically. She was one step past that. Those highly advanced systems were literally built into her body. Infiltrating a foreign OS and taking control of some of a ship’s functions, well, it was child’s play for her. It was one of many reasons she was among the AIC’s elite assets.

  “Okay, we got clearance for Jupiter Station Vector. Heading there now,” Falcon informed them as he started to turn Orion. But before he could get very far, an alert sounded inside the bridge.

  “What the hell is that?” asked Wan.

  LeFay smiled as she stared straight ahead through the bridge’s viewing window.

  “Sir, one of our missiles has been armed.”

  “Well disarm it.”

  “I can’t!”

  “What do you mean—”

  “I’m locked out. I can’t override it!” Tonga panicked as he realized a missile was armed, loaded, and ready to fire, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  “I’m getting us out of here,” Falcon said. But before he could complete his turn away from the blockade, the missile fired.

  At least he’d managed to angle the corsair around so the errant missile wasn’t fired at any UEF ships. But the resulting explosion in open space did catch the UEF Navy’s attention. In less than a minute from the time it was shot, a compliment of three fighter ships left the blockade and approached the Orion.

  “What the hell was that?” Wan asked. He actually got up out of his chair. He must be really angry for once, LeFay thought.

  “It just did it,” Tonga said, completely bewildered.

  “There was definitely some pushback on the controls,” Falcon said. “Someone else must’ve taken control of the ship.”

  Wan spun to face LeFay, but before he could say anything the Orion’s bridge speakers came to life. “Attention, unidentified corsair. This is Cpl. Kelly from the UEF 113th Space Force. Identify yourself.” The hail was from one of the fighters that drew closer with each passing second.

  Wan pointed angrily at LeFay. “You did this.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she said. “But it looks like our options are limited now. And one way or the other, we better make for that moon. Who knows if we’ll have another malfunction like that?”

  Wan muttered under his breath as he leaped back into the captain’s chair.

  “Attention, unidentified corsair,” boomed the voice from the bridge speakers again. “Identify yourself immediately. You have five seconds before we consider you hostile and will open fire.”

  “Now what? You got a plan? Or did you just sentence us all to death?” Wan glanced at his pilot. “Falcon, can we jump away?”

  “The engines need some more time to cool down.”

  “I don’t care what they need. What can they do?”

  “They can fire now,” he said. “At least, I think so. But those fighters will easily match us.”

  “Wait for it,” LeFay said. Her digital fingers deep in every communications network for millions of light years in every direction. The powerful computer that was her brain processed and sorted out those that mattered, that were relevant to their current predicament.

  “We can’t wait for anything now, thanks to you,” Wan snapped angrily. “Can we fire on them to create separation and make a run for Jupiter? If we plunge into all that gas and shit, that should scramble their radar, right?”

  “Three seconds,” warned the UEF fighter.

  “I doubt we’ll even make it into the planet’s orbit,” Falcon said.

  “Two…”

  “Wait for it,” insisted LeFay again.

  “One. Unidentified corsair, shut down your engines right now, or we will open fire.” The three UEF fighters reached the Orion and surrounded it, their cannons and missiles pointed straight at the pirate ship.

  “What the hell are we waiting for, LeFay?” hissed Wan. “You have some magic trick you want to share with the group?”

  “As a matter of fact...” she said.

  There was a series of loud booming noises out of nowhere. More and more came, until it became one long extended sound. Ships—AIC warships, fighters, battleships, and dreadnoughts—appeared all around Orion.

  “We’re waiting for them,” answered LeFay. She hurried back to her seat and strapped herself in. “Ship’s all yours again,” she said. Then she winked at Wan. “I mean, if you ever lost control or anything.”

  Wan shook his head. “Um, Falcon.”

  “Yeah, boss?”

  He saw what everyone else on the Orion saw: that they were about to be in the middle of maybe the largest space battle in the history of mankind. They needed to get out of here before they became collateral damage.

  “Kindly get us the hell out of here.”

  The sheer amount of ships out here in the space outside Europa was staggering. Their little corsair was nothing compared to what must have been, collectively, over ten thousand vessels.

  “Yeah,” said Falcon. “I think I’ll do that.”

  Wan sat back down in his chair and slowly buckled his seat belt as his eyes stayed glued to the unbelievable sight outside.

  Falcon, also mesmerized, managed to turn on the shields and slowly descend. The UEF fighters that surrounded the Orion were already well on their way back to their friends.

  “Guys, you might want to take a seat,” suggested Clarissa. She pointed to the wall, where there were more fold-out seats. Ada and Tomas took her advice, sat down, and strapped themselves in.

  Wan swallowed hard as he and his fellow Orion passengers watched one single missile fired from one of the AIC dreadnoughts. They watched the little white dot, with a blue glowing exhaust behind it, make its way towards the UEF blockade. What made them nervous wasn’t only that the first shot was fired, but that they knew it was a mini-nuke.

  The UEF blockade knew that a mini-nuke was heading their way as well. Naturally they opened fire, trying to shoot it before it reached them. They succeeded as a huge bright flash was followed by the almost dreamlike visual of an atomic explosion in space. It got close enough to take out a good amount of their ships. As soon as the explosion dissipated, it was on. Both sides went off on each other, and the Sixth Battle of Europa began.

  Watching a space battle unfold was a surreal experience, even for those that had been in one before. Not only was it the world’s deadliest light show as super-heated high-velocity cannon rounds were exchanged back and forth in every direction, but there were explosions; missiles whizzed by, and debris and bodies were always everywhere. But this was all in silence, in the vacuum of the great void.

  Falcon had his work cut out for him. Though he had no intention of joining the fight, he had to dodge, roll, and dip around all manner of projectiles, and even ships themselves.

  “Orders, Captain?” Falcon’s artificial eyes darted left, right, up, and down as he did his best to avoid cannon fire and missiles, which looked to be fired with reckless abandon. An AIC fighter got hit and blew up right in front of Orion. It was too close to avoid, so
Falcon plowed through the blast, rattling the ship. Thankfully the shields held up.

  “Don’t get us killed feels about right!”

  “There’s only one way through this,” Ada said to the others under her breath as Wan and the others worked to stabilize the ship.

  “We got to go through it and head straight to Europa,” LeFay said.

  “And you think we can do that undetected?” Ada said.

  “In this chaos? Absolutely,” she said.

  “You planned this all along, didn’t you?” Clarissa asked, even though she already knew the answer to her own question.

  “I know. I’m brillia—” LeFay was interrupted as the Orion took a violent hit. Thankfully it was from one of the cannons from a smaller warship, a UEF man of war, not a dreadnought. Otherwise they’d be dead.

  “Yeah, super smart,” Clarissa said. “In no way is this suicidal.”

  “I hear y’all chatting back there,” Wan said. “Any suggestions?” His knuckles were white as he gripped the armrests on his chair. Apparently there was a limit to how exciting he found all this.

  “Head for the moon!” LeFay yelled back. “There’s no way we can reach any of the Jupiter stations or back out of this fight!”

  Wan heard LeFay and looked out the bridge’s viewing window. It was pure, unadulterated chaos. Ships were being blown up left and right. There weren’t any more sides. The AIC ships were intertwined with the UEF ships; only their ID beacons would be able to tell them apart.

  A thick and deep wall of cannon fire stood between Orion and Europa. An even bigger one stood between Orion and Jupiter.

  “I hate you, LeFay,” Wan said. “I really do!”

  LeFay just shrugged.

  “Can you make it?” Wan asked Falcon.

  “I can try.”

  “No pressure, but it’s all on you.”

  “No pressure,” Falcon said.

  Eight

  Inbound

  Through Falcon’s eyes, the Sixth Battle of Europa was a vast expanse of math equations. He wasn’t like Clarissa, where his piloting skills came from instinct and reaction time. No, everything was calculated to him.

  In a split second, his advanced HUD plotted a course through the chaos at an angle and speed that, according to the math, would get them through, out and clear, behind the UEF blockade. But that was if everything went according to plan and prediction. In war, one could rarely if ever count on those two things.

  Falcon had to punch it to get through the maelstrom of floating death. Without warning he pushed hard on the accelerator, and let the computers he’d installed into his body take the piloting stick.

  “Put on your life-support masks,” he ordered. “Turning off all unnecessary systems and redirecting that power to the shields. And hang on. This is gonna be rough.”

  At first, though going fast, it seemed like the Orion wasn’t being pushed to its limit. That was about to change.

  Everyone aboard the Orion heard Falcon’s order. Everyone obeyed. As they were marked by clearly visible blue boxes, it was easy to find life-support masks anywhere on the ship. Without delay, they put them on and prayed for the best.

  As soon as his calculations demanded it, Falcon pressed the accelerator to the max. It was as hard as he could possibly push the engines without risking total and complete failure. Those on the bridge were pushed back into their seats by the gravitational forces that echoed those felt on the fastest of fighter ships. Those unlucky enough to not already be sitting down were thrown off their feet into whatever was behind them.

  It wasn’t about just going fast. Falcon also had to maneuver around the countless hazards all around Orion. Life and death was a matter of split-second decisions and actions. If his body’s chemicals weren’t carefully regulated via computer programs, his adrenaline would have been spiking. His eyes would’ve been wide and bloodshot as he avoided close call after close call, and he would’ve been drenched in sweat.

  Instead, Falcon was focused, calm and working ahead of himself. He let his custom programming handle what was happening in the moment as he tried to figure out three or four moves ahead. That was an effective system for the normal circumstances he often found himself in. It was great for running from authorities, finding safe routes in and out of restricted areas, staying undetected. But it wasn’t so great for flying through a massive battle involving countless variables that were all thoroughly unpredictable.

  Falcon dramatically pitched Orion to the right to avoid a UEF fighter that screamed by, firing its cannons at an AIC fighter behind it. There was no time to think about his next move as a burning fighter he couldn’t identify came straight towards the pirate corsair. He had to take just as dramatic a turn to the left. Tonga threw up in his life-support mask.

  As Tonga cleaned his own vomit off his face, he unbuckled his seat belt. He needed to get another mask, or he was gonna be real short of breath real soon. Much to his dismay and physical well-being, seconds after unbuckling his seat belt, the Orion collided with another ship.

  Falcon couldn’t avoid the oncoming UEF man of war. The Orion was going so fast, with two extreme turns, that it couldn’t physically handle another immediate one before leveling off. Realizing this, he quickly redirected more power to the forward shields and hoped for the best.

  The Orion hit the side of the man of war and bounced off. Luckily the shields absorbed most of the impact, only leaving slight denting on the front of the corsair. But it spun the smaller vessel, leaving Falcon desperate to regain control and Tonga flying around the command bridge.

  “Fuuuuu—!” yelled Wan, muffled by his life-support mask. Looking through the viewing window was nauseating, but he and everyone else on the bridge did it. Tomas and the captain both threw up as well.

  Tonga’s body ragdolled around the bridge. His head was gashed open on the edge of a console. One of his arms broke as he was thrown off his own seat. He only came to a stop when he ran into LeFay, who grabbed and gripped onto him, securing his head and torso, only leaving his limbs free to flail.

  “Hang on!” yelled Falcon. He was in a bit of a pickle. Somehow, someway, he’d have to level Orion out. Otherwise it would spin apart and, worse, everyone on board would pass out. Maybe even himself. Augmented as he was, he was still human, with a human brain, with human blood running through those veins.

  What options did Falcon have? The main engines were still too hot. The landing thrusters were all he had, and even though they weren’t supposed to be used at this distance since he’d be on fumes later, he had them both firing at max. He could shut off the thruster on the side of the Orion going into her spin, and hope that would even them out, or he could completely shut off the landing thrusters and go into a free fall. Then, all at once, he’d have to accelerate hard, fast and sudden. The problem was, they weren’t in a void, a perfect situation where there was open space.

  Falcon wasn’t sure what had hit the Orion during their spin. It could have been flak or a missile. One of the smaller ships—but bigger than a fighter like the man of war they’d collided with—or a carrier could have hit them. Whatever it was, it wasn’t big enough to destroy them or completely take out their shields, but it was enough of a shock to the system to render the pirate ship dead in the water.

  “At least it stopped spinning,” pointed out LeFay. She looked down at Tonga, who was in rough shape. One arm was pointed and bent in the most unnatural way. His face was a crimson mask, and the vomit mixed with blood on his chin and shirt. “Boy, you are a mess. Let’s get you one of them masks.”

  Tomas reached into one of those blue containers and grabbed an extra life-support mask as Orion’s bridge still spun in his vision, even though the spinning had slowed down dramatically. He swallowed down his own vomit and handed the mask over to the barely conscious Tonga. The big man wasn’t even cognizant enough to take it from him, so it fell to the bridge floor.

  “What’s…?” Wan had to get hold of himself. Like Tomas, his world was li
ke a whirling dervish. His stomach—full of liquor and cheap snacks—was unstable at the moment, to say the least. “What’s, uh, going on here, Falcon?”

  All the power to Orion was off. The engines were cold. The thrusters were dead. Wan’s precious ship was little more than a floating target / bullet sponge in the midst of space combat Armageddon. Worst of all…

  “No power, no shields, no weapons, no engines,” answered Falcon as he tried to find a solution to the ordeal, of which the seriousness was being severely downplayed.

  “Sounds non-ideal,” said LeFay.

  “No shields?” Wan asked. “No shields?”

  Having no shields out there during the Sixth Battle of Europa was like jumping the fence into the lion’s cage at the zoo, naked, with premium raw steaks attached to your person. Eventually, something was going to go very badly, and people were going to die.

  “I’m working on it,” Falcon said. He was flustered and felt himself trying to control his breathing. Sometimes Wan forgot that Falcon wasn’t like the rest of them. This ship wasn’t just something he rode. He was attached to it.

  “Emergency power?” Wan asked unhelpfully.

  “Everything was diverted to the shields,” Falcon said. “Like you ordered.”

  “Pump it!” Clarissa spoke up from the back. No one answered her, so she spoke a little louder. “Use the manual charger! Pump it as hard as you can!”

  Orion, like almost every spaceship, had precautions against losing power. There was a literal pump under the pilot’s console that, when pumped, used friction to charge and re-spark the engine. The only problem was that Falcon’s hands were attached to the controls, so he couldn’t do it.

  Clarissa recognized Falcon’s physical disadvantage and got up out of her seat. Fighting the dizziness that came with Orion’s spinning, she finally made it up front to him. She sat in the copilot’s seat, the one chair on the pirate corsair that almost never saw any use. Falcon wasn’t big on sharing.