19

“The UFS Dark Lance has made significant repairs and no longer seems to be disabled.” Jelly updated me as frequently as possible, which I appreciated.

“Where the hell is Rejon?” Elise asked. “He should be here telling us how long his people’s super weapon will affect Nebs’ ship.”

“He escaped in a shuttle and headed for the planet,” I said. “As their leader, he acts like he’s obligated to go down there and die with them. Weird, I know.”

“What?” Elise looked alarmed.

“Shit happens,” I said. “It was a matter of time before he bolted. I know the type. Jelly, have we been detected?”

“Not at this time, Captain,” Jelly said.

“You just let him leave.” Elise stared at me like I was an irresponsible asshole. “He claimed to be their leader. That doesn’t mean he is their leader.”

“He wasn’t our prisoner,” I told her. “Is that what you want, to start treating everyone we meet as enemies or prisoners?”

“Most of them are,” she shot back.

“Statistically, she is correct,” X-37 said.

“Screw statistics,” I said, then listed all of the people who had joined us since Dreadmax: Tom, Path, Henshaw, Locke and his people…”

“We get it,” Elise said. “I just thought you would be on top of this type of thing. Rejon has information we need, and for all we know, he’s warming up that ship stunner to use on us.”

“That is a possibility,” X-37 admitted. “Shall I make a note of your oversight, Reaper Cain?”

“No,” I said. “I mean, it wasn’t an oversight. Let’s just move forward. Nebs is the enemy, remember. Jelly, what else can you tell us?”

There was one person on the bridge I wasn’t used to—Bug. He sat at a terminal, watching everyone and everything with silent intensity. I was tempted to bring him into the conversation, but something warned me to leave him be. He talked tough, ran his mouth like a street thug when confronted, but it was clear he was way outside of his comfort zone. The boy had grown up in a surveillance tower with little or no parenting.

“X, keep an eye on Bug,” I said quietly.

“Of course, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “He has been playing with all surveillance systems accessible from the bridge without questions, comments, or opinions. The only other thing he has done since boarding the Jellybird is search the galley for cheese crackers.”

“Okay, good. Give me the lowdown on what Nebs has left,” I said.

“There are several active patrols of micro-fighters. Many of the craft that were orphaned when we took the Nightmare and after the destruction of the Black Wing have been recovered by the Dark Lance. There isn’t room for all of them to land onto the surface of the carrier, so they are maintaining constant patrols with well-coordinated refueling operations. I assume their pilots eventually get to sleep,” Jelly said.

“Novasdaughter told me that it isn’t uncommon for pilots to be ordered to sleep in their micro-fighters,” Elise said. “She said it can be relaxing.”

I pulled a face. “No thanks. The micro-fighter I flew was about as comfortable as handcuffs and leg restraints after getting beat down by angry prison guards.”

“Uh, okay,” Elise said. “No one but you has had that unfortunate experience. My point is, I can believe they are keeping those tiny fighters on patrol for days at a time.”

“Jelly, take us past their patrols,” I said. “Give me your best Union evasion tricks. The sooner I get to Nebs, the better chance we all have for survival.”

“Yes, Captain,” Jelly said, then altered course to weave closer to Nebs’s new flagship.

“How many times have you lectured me about rushing to failure?” X-37 asked privately.

I put a hand on my forehead and massaged my temples, a behavior I sometimes adopted to cue my friends I was having a private discussion with my LAI.

“I don’t lecture, X. I just point out your mistakes,” I said.

“Would you like an accounting of how many times I was wrong versus how many times you were wrong?” X-37 asked.

“No.” Why would I need that kind of abuse? Being a Reaper didn’t pay enough for this kind of harassment. “Let’s call it even.”

“My records indicate that we are nowhere near even,” X-37 said.

“Hey, Jelly, can I get an update on our position?” I asked, even though I knew exactly where we were and how far we needed to go.

“Certainly, Captain,” Jelly said. “I was just about to recommend battle stations and advise you of enemies approaching.”

“Can they see us?” I had my fingers crossed.

“Not exactly,” Jelly clarified. “Nebs’s fighters have refined a method for searching a three-dimensional grid. One of the squadrons will have us boxed in, after a fashion, even if they don’t know they’ve caught us.

I prepared to take the controls again. Sweat ran down my back and made my palms soft with perspiration. This was going to get ugly. All the people I considered friends were probably going to die and it would be my fault.

For several seconds, I considered reversing my decision. It didn’t take long to understand there really wasn’t any place to go. I couldn’t see a solution to our problems that didn’t involve eliminating Nebs. The only way that would work was if I did it.

Face to face. With my arm blade. Or whatever was lying around that might provide sufficient trauma to end his life.

An alarm sounded.

“We’ve been detected,” Jelly warned.

“Call Tom back to the deck. Locke, get your people ready to repel boarders… or maybe abandon ship. Elise, you’re on weapons with Tom when he gets here.”

“Right away, Captain,” Jelly responded.

Elise didn’t bother responding. She merely flipped over her control station, activated weapons, and started shooting the first micro-fighters to arrive. “This won’t be enough. There are too many of them.”

“When Tom gets here, tell him to take over then get back in that micro-fighter you love so much,” I ordered.

“Hell yeah.” Her face lit up at the prospect.

I wanted to share her enthusiasm but understood what our odds were against trained Union pilots. If they were half as good as Amii Novasdaughter, we would have problems.

“Reaper Cain, I have begun analyzing the capabilities of the experimental micro-fighters you and Elise will be flying,” X-37 said as I ran to the landing bay.

The Union fighters were meant to be launched from the exterior of a stealth carrier with small explosive charges. Nudging them out of the Jellybird’s hold wasn’t going to have the same effect and I was convinced it would put us at a disadvantage. I told X my thoughts.

“Then why do it, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked.

“Because I’m using every resource to win,” I said. “More guns in the fight.”

“Even if you die, Reaper Cain?”

I hesitated, knowing this involved my LAI in a way we’d never discussed. When I died, X died. Would he try to stop me from diving into a truly hopeless situation?

“No one gets a guarantee. People die. There’s no reason I have more right to live than anyone else in this battle.” I climbed into the micro-fighter.

“Who has a right to live and who doesn’t is irrelevant,” X-37 said.

“I don’t disagree with you.” I flipped switches and checked the power displays one after another. “I’m just saying anything could happen and I don’t have time to worry about it.”

“Ah, gallows courage,” X-37 said.

I shook my head. “I plan on surviving. I also know that thinking too much about dying gets people killed.”.

The engines whined. Lights flashed, indicating the weapons of the experimental micro-fighter were ready.

“So does being reckless and making poor decisions,” X-37 continued.

“X, can you tell me why no one bothered to take one of these fighters during the ship evacuation?” I asked.

“There are two reasons I was able to find while snooping through the Black Wing’s systems,” X-37 replied. “One: access to the area was restricted. No one could have entered the area until well after the ship was coming apart.”

“And the second reason?” The ship was ready, so I tapped a thruster and slid free of the Jellybird, unable to see where Elise had gone.

“Several of the test pilots died from the raw acceleration of this vessel. I recommend you pretend like it doesn’t have the third thruster switch. It will only get you in trouble,” X-37 cautioned.

“Or dead,” I added.

“Or that,” X-37 said. “I was attempting to be polite.”

“A little help would be nice, Reaper,” Elise broke in, slightly out of breath. Probably because she was grunting the words through clenched teeth while making a hard corner. “Yeeeeeeeeeee!”

“Elise has put her micro-fighter into a quintuple spin and roll out,” X-37 observed.

“Yeah, I saw that,” I muttered. “Hey, kid, take it easy on the acceleration or you’re going to crush your insides.”

A swarm of Union micro-fighters raced after her. I nudged my little death ship into their wake and opened fire, destroying two and damaging two others before they had time to react.

“This isn’t so hard,” I said. “Elise, don’t use the third thruster switch. It will turn your brain to mush.”

“Like yours.” She laughed. “Thanks for the save, wingman.”

“Not your wingman,” I said.

“Are.”

“Am not.”

“You’re totally my wingman,” she said. “Watch your six.”

“Damn!” I jammed the controls as hard as I could to one side, trying to remember everything I could about my Reaper flight training. It had been extensive but it never intended to prepare me for a fight against the best the Union had to offer.

“You will pass out in nine seconds,” X-37 said.

“If I had a credit for every… time… I heard that”—I pulled out of my evasive maneuvers, secretly hoping Elise had killed the jackwagons after me—“I could retire.”

“That is a completely irrelevant goal in your situation,” X-37 said. “Now could you flip this ship over and shoot at your pursuers?”

I did as X suggested, banging my head, even though I was wearing a helmet and the helmet was tethered to the flight seat. When I opened fire, my vision was blurry from rapid changes in my blood pressure despite my pressurized flight suit. Or maybe it was from being hit on the head. Or going into nicotine withdrawal. Or what the fuck ever.

The main thing was that I wasn’t the kid’s wingman. We couldn’t even see each other, much less fly in formation. This was less of a dog fight and more of a violent space brawl at speeds I could barely comprehend.

Small, deadly projectiles streamed from my guns, slicing one ship to pieces. I veered away and was pursued by two ships this time.

“X, I know this thing has freakishly dangerous acceleration, but is there another reason it is experimental—something that might have gotten some of those test pilots killed?” I asked.

“Why do you ask, Reaper Cain? Is it that flashing button you’re dying to push?” X-37 asked.

I swerved right, then left, then went straight down before leveling out to check for pursuers. The ship demanded I acknowledge an error caused by my cybernetics, which I handled without thinking, then answered X. “Yeah, X. I really want to push it.”

“That particular button illuminates when the plasma burst is ready,” X-37 said.

“There’s no way a ship this small has an energy weapon like that,” I said, firing the standard guns and missing.

Elise and two pursuers streaked in front of me.

“Not your wingman!” I shouted.

“It is unlikely her comms picked up that rather spontaneous transmission,” X-37 pointed out—like I cared.

Elsewhere, the Jellybird was taking a beating from small ships and the UFS Dark Lance. We needed to finish this fight now.

“Tell me what I need to know about the alleged plasma weapon,” I said, assuming it was something that had the appearance of a plasma device but was really just a hyped-up battery with one or two charges.

“I am only reading the manual,” X-37 said, “for the one hundred and thirty-fifth time. Benefits of being an advanced cluster of algorithms. There is some fine print indicating the plasma gun, or PG as they call it, has a limited number of charges. Suspicious.”

“That’s kind of what I thought,” I said, then aimed and jammed my finger on the button.

Light burned all around me. I couldn’t tell if the weapon worked or if it had fired in the direction I had the ship pointed. Heat warnings flashed on every system I could monitor from inside the cockpit. Alarms blurred in my helmet. It sounded like someone was laughing at me.

Only extreme force of will kept me from passing out or pissing my pants.

“Good work, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “You badly singed one enemy micro-fighter.”

“That’s all!”

“You are also the first to survive using the weapon in combat conditions. All of the others panicked and ejected,” X-37 said.

“I didn’t know that was an option!” X didn’t seem to be listening, so I added a few of my favorite swear words.

“Other micro-fighters are avoiding you,” X-37 said. “I recommend making a run at the Dark Lance and using the weapon one more time.”

Thoughts of dubiously experimental weapons and our recent conversation about dying filled the moments it took me to change course. “Check on the Jellybird.”

X-37 utilized the micro-fighter’s systems to communicate with Jelly. “X-37 for the Jellybird, what is your status?”

“Taking heavy damage.” Tom’s voice was strained and he didn’t offer elaboration.

“I’m making a run at the Dark Lance,” I told him and thought about how far short my plan had fallen. My intent was to board the flagship, slip past the guards, maybe fight the Archangels, and eliminate the vice admiral.

I’d been worried about the Archangels but never even reached them.

“It’s been nice knowing you, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“Nice timing, X. That was your best lame-ass attempt at a joke yet,” I said, noticing that Elise had fallen in formation slightly behind and to my left.

“It is nice of you to say so, Reaper Cain.”

Elise interrupted. “I’m not your wingman.”

“Sure, kid,” I said. Just keep those bastards off me while I make this run.”

“I have the same weapon,” she said. “After you fire, peel off, and I’ll take a shot.”

“No way,” I said.

“Why not?” She sounded pissed.

“Because it about fried me when I tried it and I nearly ejected, which is how most of the test pilots died, according to X,” I said, paraphrasing a bit.

“I’m taking a shot and you can’t stop me,” she said, all attitude.

“I can give you a really dirty look when this is over,” I said.

“X-37 is way funnier than you.”

“That hurts, kid,” I said then dove through the streams of point defense guns, rockets, and hastily deployed mines.

Elise held formation.

“Talk to me about a target, X,” I said.

“My recommendation is the communication antennas on the prow of the ship,” X-37 said. “They are the only piece of critical infrastructure that is even remotely vulnerable.”

“Hey, I’m about to fire a super weapon,” I said.

“It will have little effect against a ship this size,” X-37 said. “However, your efforts have drawn the Union micro-fighters away from the Jellybird, allowing her to escape.”

“Sweet,” I said. “That’s all I wanted anyway—other than to board the Dark Lance and eliminate Nebs once and for all.”

“If you survive this attack run, I will do everything in my power to assist you with that goal,” X-37 promised.

OceanofPDF.com