Ghost Squadron

The Ragnarok Saga Book 5

Kevin McLaughlin

Role of the Hero Publishing Company

Exclusive for fans of the Accord series!

Find out how the story started… When Captain Nicholas Stein set out to stop one enemy ship, and set in motion events which shaped the course of human history for decades to come.

http://kevinomclaughlin.com/accordoffire/

One

Sam thought calling this place the 'Oort Cloud' was a misnomer. It wasn’t a cloud at all. There was stuff out there, for sure. Bits of rock and ice. But they were scattered about, so distant from each other that the whole region felt as empty as any other part of space. From her point of view, it was less a cloud and more a zone.

Whatever they wanted to call it, patrolling the place was damned dull. They were supposed to be out looking for trouble. If the alien ship which escaped the scuffle at Neptune was still somewhere in the solar system, the most likely place for it to be hiding out was in the Oort Cloud. Far enough from Earth that it would be nearly impossible to spot, but close enough that it could have made the trip without resorting to a jump with its Alcubierre drive.

That, they would have spotted. The energy surge when a ship went into a jump was nowhere near as dramatic as the one expelled when it arrived at its destination, but it was still easy enough to spot from a far distance. They hadn’t seen a jump signature. So unless the aliens had been extremely sneaky about their departure, they were still in the neighborhood

“Harald, you seeing anything at all out there?” Sam asked over her radio. There was a brief lag before she got a response. Her squadron-mates were all flying at a distance of several light-seconds from each other, spread out to cover more ground. It was still woefully insufficient. A ship trying to hide out there was a needle in a haystack, and they were combing through the stack one straw at a time.

“Still nothing, just like last time you asked,” he replied.

He’d been growing testier by the week. Ever since the battle over Neptune, he’d become more distant and reclusive. Instead of hanging out with the other pilots during downtime, he’d resided in his fighter. Sam stopped by a few times when he started the practice. He was only grudgingly talkative and mostly stared out into the stars. She wondered what he thought about while he sat there all alone. God knew they all had enough demons chasing them at this point.

Sam was evading hers by staying busy. There was a new crop of pilots to train up. Few of their original fighter wing had survived. But the core concept - using digitally uploaded minds as pilots of fighters, because they could survive accelerations and vector changes that would kill an ordinary human - was deemed a rousing success, anyway. Another recruiting drive brought in a host of fresh meat, and it was her job to turn them into a cohesive fighting force.

Easier said than done. Even after a few weeks in space, the pilots were still green as hell. They were all recruits from Valhalla Online, a digital afterlife where you got to play a fantasy game for all eternity. On the plus side, that meant all her new recruits were used to the idea of fighting. But they were also used to respawning after they ‘died’ in the game. A death in Valhalla Online might hurt, but it wasn’t the end of the road.

A condition the United Nations placed on allowing them to run around loose in the outside world was that each digital mind was encoded with a high-grade DRM. Copying them was supposed to be impossible. Sam knew nothing was truly unhackable, but it made it impractical at best to make copies of a freed digital mind. No copies meant that if the fighter your program was uploaded to blew to bits, you were gone. End of story, end of life.

Teaching these new recruits to take death seriously had been a struggle, especially since dying in a simulation was just like what they were used to in Valhalla. They ‘died’ and came right back again to run another sim. It would be very different when they got out in real combat though. The enemy’s guns would cause real damage to their fighters. When they blew up - and Sam knew some of them would die - they’d be gone forever. Wiped from existence. It was a tough concept for them to adjust to.

Sam spotted a flash of light in the distance, out ahead of them. She lit it up with active scanners immediately. The fighter’s instruments fed data back to her about the energy discharge. It was an Alcubierre drive exit explosion, all right. When a ship came out of a jump, it brought with it a swath of highly charged particles that released all their pent-up energy in an instant. The resulting light show was impressive. At close range, it could blow apart a spaceship. Sam knew, since she’d seen it happen.

But this wasn’t enemy action. The friend-or-foe systems on board her craft identified the ship at once. It was the Intrepid, the one human vessel capable of making jumps. Well, it was more or less capable. The first time they tried, it had blown out the jump drive. They’d since made adjustments to get the system more or less working, but it was still new tech. Flying around in the Intrepid when it made a jump was a little like riding a C-130 full of nitroglycerin. It would probably make a safe landing. But if it didn’t, the explosion would be spectacular.

A signal came in from the Intrepid a few seconds later. “Ghost Squadron, any contacts?”

That was Admiral Thomas Stein, the captain of the ship. Technically, Stein was in command of the entire human space navy, but he’d taken direct control during the battle for Neptune and never relinquished it after. Sam wondered how long a member of the top brass would be allowed to remain in the field like that. It wasn’t for her to question his decision, but it seemed unwise to have him on the front lines.

“Negative,” Sam replied. “This sector is clean.”

“Understood,” Thomas replied. “Return to base to refuel and rest.”

“We’re still good for another sector if you want,” Sam said. Her tanks still had plenty of reaction mass left to convert into energy for her drive. They’d been coasting at high velocity for the last couple of days, not using much power.

“Negative. Your people need downtime to stay sharp. Bring them in. Rest, let the techs look over your ships, and then we’ll hit the next sector.”

“Understood, sir. Passing the word along,” Sam replied.

The downtime would be good. It was hard on the mind, being out in the black for too long. Even though the pilots could all connect to each other and talk whenever they wanted, the brief lags in conversation caused by distance shut down discussion. That left all her pilots with a lot of time to sit alone in their fighters and think. Sam wasn’t sure how the rest of them were reacting to that, but it had worn on her enough that she welcomed a respite.

Two

The virtual space on board the Intrepid still wasn’t quite up to the standards of the one they’d had on the Hermes. Their original ship had been carefully set up to accommodate a crew of digitized beings. All the life support and crew areas were ripped out, much of that space filled back in with computer hardware to support the Ghosts.

But the Hermes was gone, blasted to bits in the last, desperate fight over Neptune. The Intrepid was a more massive ship with enormous built-in computing power, but it wasn’t designed for housing the Ghost Squadron. They’d made what adjustments they could as quickly as possible, so it was working. It just didn’t quite feel like home yet.

Something about the simulated environment was off again today. The only way Sam could describe it was that it felt fuzzy around the edges, like some of the sensory stimuli her mind was being given was incomplete. It wasn’t enough to make her genuinely uncomfortable, but it was an ever-present nagging at the edge of her thoughts. She’d have to talk with Gurgle later. He was proving to be a fantastic hand with the computer systems. Maybe he could help redesign the specs so they’d feel more real for all of them.

Sam walked through the rec area. A few other fighter pilots had beat her there, and more would be flowing in shortly. After so long alone in the void, they all craved the presence of other people. Even simulated, the contact was essential. She understood now how bad solitary confinement could get for prisoners. They were never entirely alone out there in space, but they might as well be. Messages took long seconds to send, and more time for responses to come back. Even though they each knew the others were out in space with them, the inability to see anyone wore on the mind after a while. Admiral Stein had made the right call, bringing them in. If they wore down too much, people would start making mistakes they couldn’t afford.

“Captain! Come join us if you’d like!”

Sam glanced over and smiled. Three of the pilots from her wing were already seated at a table, drinking imaginary mead. Of all the drinks to program into the computer, of course mead was the first they’d choose. All of the pilots in her squadron were from Valhalla Online, a simulated Norse afterlife. Even new recruits like the three inviting her over had all spent a year or more living the role of a dead Norse man or woman. Mead played prominently in the Valhallan culture. It was sweeter than beer - and frankly, Sam found herself craving a good virtual IPA - but the taste had grown on her, too.

“Sure, Nick,” Sam said, walking over. Nick Holmes was one of their newest recruits. He’d opted to go by his old world name, the one he’d used before Valhalla. For day to day use, anyway. Most people picked a suitably Norse name for themselves when they were uploaded to Valhalla. Some folks had grown so used to that new name that it was all they wanted to be called. Others were new enough to Valhalla that they wanted to use their old, real-world names again now that they were back in the outside world.

Harald was one of the former. Sam didn’t even know what he’d been called before he was uploaded. He’d never told her. She knew damned little of his background, other than the fact that he’d once been a Marine and was 'given an offer he couldn’t refuse' to join the Valhalla Online alpha tests.

Sam glanced around the room as she sat down. He was nowhere in sight. She wasn’t really expecting to see him. Harald had begun spending most of his downtime inside his fighter. The computers aboard the fighters were where their minds were stored, anyway. The little Wasp ships were their bodies, in effect. They could project their awareness into this virtual shared space, but it wasn’t where their data was stored. She’d stopped by several times to see Harald just sitting alone, staring out into the void of space. The idea made Sam shiver. He was too much apart. It wasn’t good for anyone, and she worried about her old friend.

“How did the flight go?” Sam asked as she took a seat next to the recruits. She called for a mug of mead, which appeared on the table in front of her. Imaginary mead still tasted something like the real thing, or so she’d been told. Having the flavor without the calories was a plus side to this life.

“Boring. Is it always that bad? I brought books along to read, but we had way too much time on our hands out there,” Nick said. “Nothing to do but stare out at unmoving stars. For days.”

Sam chuckled. “Boring is good. When it’s not boring, it tends to be way more exciting than anybody really wants.”

“Why? Excitement is good!” the recruit next to Nick said. Sam glanced down at the uniform his avatar wore, to check his name. LeBruin, it said. She didn’t recall his first time.

“Mostly because excitement in a fighter involves people blowing up around you,” Sam said. “It’s not all fun and games.”

“Yeah, but we blew up a lot more of them than they blew up of our ships,” LeBruin said.

Sam blinked, considering her response before replying. How to explain combat to someone who’d never seen anything but simulated battle? These guys were fresh from Valhalla. Every death there was glorious because you’d be right back fighting again the next day. Out here that attitude was going to get people killed, permanently. She needed to continue working to quash it.

“We did beat them soundly,” Sam said. The recruits smiled and raised their mugs like they were about to toast her words. But she had more to say. “That won’t bring back any of my friends who died in the process. They’re gone. Forever. Remember that, when you’re out there. They died to defend our world. Some of us will die if we have to fight the aliens again.”

They looked suitably chastised. Sam wondered if she was going to get any more invitations to join them at their table. She had a feeling she might not, and that was fine. She was the squadron commander, second only to the Intrepid’s non-digital CAG for all their flight groups. That the ship had a regular person as CAG didn’t bother her. Half the fighter compliment was regular people, half digital ones. Overall command went to Keladry Stein, the admiral’s wife. If it had been nepotism, Sam might have raised a fuss about it. But Kel was one of the most gifted pilots she’d ever seen.

A ping on the communication system tore her attention away from the conversation at the table. She had an incoming message. Sam checked the sender identity and stiffened with surprise. It was Samantha - the other Sam, the physical one whose uploaded mind had become the person Sam now was. She’d sent a letter. Sam wondered what was up - they didn’t communicate with one another all that often. It felt strange and uncomfortable, like talking to yourself, only not. She excused herself from the table and stepped aside to check the note in privacy.

Three

Once she was safely away from the others, Sam opened the message. It was a video recording, which in some ways made the sense of strangeness she felt even more intense. It was like watching herself say words she’d never spoken. She shook her head, trying without much effect to clear the feeling. The hell with it. She might as well hear what her ‘sister’ had to say. She pressed play.

“Sam, I hope this recording finds you well. I know you folks have been super busy out there. But with you out of Valhalla at last, I thought you might appreciate some updates from the home front,” Samantha said on the recording. “The news about Neptune leaked at last. It’s a mess. Just the idea of aliens trying to invade has people upset. Protests broke out all over the world. Celebrations at the fleet’s success broke out, too. Right now some folks are thrilled we won, and others are being pissy about not being told right away that it was happening.”

That made a certain degree of sense. Governments had been keeping their people in the dark about important things for ages. It was probably something thought up by the very first government, whenever that had been. But people didn’t usually like it much when they discovered that sort of secrecy. The United Nations had kept some dangerous secrets just a decade before. The new regime was operating under a policy of openness and full disclosure. Sam wondered how much they’d damaged public opinion by keeping the invasion secret as long as they had.

“Anyway, the UN decided if the alien cat was out of the bag, they might as well spill the rest. They released a statement about the Ghosts - that’s what they’re calling you, did you know? The Ghost Squadron,” Samantha’s voice said.

The squadron had named itself, right before that final fight. Very few of the original Ghosts were still around. Most died in that final battle. But the name had stuck, and Sam was glad. It fit, after all. They were the ghosts of dead people, come back to defend humanity in their moment of greatest need. Her mouth quirked a small smile. It was like something out of legend, which felt fitting.

“People still aren’t sure how to handle that news. Just like the invasion news, some folks are upset. Others are just happy we found a way to win. Your people might be hailed as heroes or…not so popular. Or maybe both at the same time. I’m not sure how it’s going to come out just yet, but I’m keeping my ear to the ground as much as I can,” Samantha said. “I’ll fill you in as I learn more. Oh - one more thing.”

“I haven’t told mom and dad about you, yet,” Samantha said. “They’re well. Seattle isn’t one of the protest hotbeds. People there are more in a partying mood, from what I hear. So no worries about their security. I talked to them yesterday, and they’re both pretty healthy and happy. I still think we ought to break the news to them, sometime soon. About you, I mean. I can do it solo, or you can come with me if you wanted.”

Sam paused the message. Her mind was racing so fast she could barely control her thoughts. Talk to them? Her parents? No way! That wasn’t happening anytime soon. What the hell was Samantha thinking?

If she had a heart, she knew it would be hammering a mile a minute. She didn’t have an adrenal system, but her mind could still go into overdrive when something made her anxious. Sam could recognize the symptoms and made an effort to relax. Samantha hadn’t gone to her parents, after all. She probably wouldn’t without talking to Sam first. And what was the worst that could happen, anyway?

The worst? Her imagination fed her images of the parents she remembered being her own finding out the military had made a digital copy of their daughter’s mind, in violation of every law and ethics rule on the subject. Worse, that the copy was still alive, was active in the military, living her own life as a digital person. Sam’s very existence violated a number of international laws. The UN Navy had bent a bunch of rules and fudged many records to allow her to join them. It helped that her existence also implicated various people high up in the US military of serious crimes. Nobody wanted that secret going public.

But telling her parents wasn’t really public. The worst thing they could do was what Sam figured they almost certainly would: reject her. What other choice would they have? They already had a daughter named Sam. Why would they recognize the digital copy of their daughter?

No, she felt sure they would turn her away. She wasn’t sure she could stand that if it happened. Better by far for them to go to their graves never knowing she existed at all. Sam missed her parents with an intensity that surprised her. She still recalled every moment they’d ever spent together. But as much as she would love seeing them again, she didn’t think she could survive the horror they would feel when they discovered what had been done to their daughter.

“Is OK?” someone asked from beside her.

“Hmm? Oh, hi, Gurgle. Yeah. I’m fine,” Sam replied.

“Is leaking from eye. Sure OK?” Gurgle asked, pointing at her face.

Damned simulation really was getting better, if it was representing her emotional state that well. She rubbed a palm against the treasonous eye, wiping away her tears. “Yeah, I’m OK. Just got an emotionally charged letter from Earth. Take a look.”

She’d always valued Gurgle’s observations. He didn’t understand human reactions completely, but Gurgle had the advantage of not being human when it came to cutting right to the heart of things. He was a digital personality sprung entirely from an algorithm, something weird created inside Valhalla Online itself. The place had spawned two true AIs. Sam had killed them both. She had a feeling that Gurgle might be a third, though - or something very close to one, anyway. She played the video for him, curious what he would say.

“Is your parents she talks about, too. Yes?” he asked.

“Well, sort of. I mean, I remember them that way. But they don’t know I exist,” Sam said.

“They is good people?” Gurgle asked.

“Yes. Some of the best people I knew,” Sam replied without hesitation. Her parents were where she’d learned about honor in the first place.

“Then is fine. Good people will like you fine. No worries,” Gurgle said, flashing her a smile.

“How can you be so sure?” Sam demanded. “They could very well decide they hate me.”

“No,” Gurgle said. He poked her in the stomach. “You is good person. Other good people see that, know that, trust you, like you. If parents are good people, they like you too. Maybe not like you same as other you. But like you for you. Like Gurgle does.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile at his candor. It was perhaps one of the things she valued most about her friend. She reached over and gave him a hug. “Showing you that video was definitely the right call. Thank you, Gurgle.”

She still wasn’t sure how best to proceed with the parent issue, but it wasn’t a problem she had to solve right this second, anyway. When the time was right, she’d find a way to deal with her fears.

Four

“You two look incredibly serious. What’s up?” Harald asked from behind her.

Sam whirled, hoping she’d been careful enough to wipe away all traces of the tears from her face. From the quizzical look in Harald’s eyes, she hadn’t quite managed it. Damn it! He was too good at reading people. That was supposed to be her specialty. But Harald knew her well. They’d been through too much over their time together in Valhalla for him to not notice if she was distressed.

“Just a letter from Earth,” Sam said.

“From…that other you?” Harald asked. He shook his head, frowning. “Nothing good can come of that, Sam. We’re dead, so far as the people we left behind are concerned. If we pop back into their lives now, we’re not doing them any service. It’s even worse in your case. They’ve never even grieved your death. To your family and friends, Samantha is still alive.”

“I know,” Sam said, staring down at her feet.

“You enter their lives, all it will do is stir up confusion and hurt. Is it worth it? Do you need to see these people that badly?” Harald asked. “It’s not like you ever actually knew them. Not this you, anyway.”

“But I have every memory of them that the other Sam does. To me, it feels real,” Sam protested.

Harald shook his head, more firmly this time. “It’s not real. That Sam is real flesh and bones. A person. Just like I was before I died and was uploaded into Valhalla. But us? You named us the Ghost Squadron, and you were right. You compared us to the Eirenhar, and I think you were correct in that, too. We’re not alive, Sam. We’re just ghosts of people who used to be.”

There was much about what he said that felt true. After all, they were simply echoes of what had been. There wasn’t a lot of studies done on exactly what the nature of a digital mind was, either. Were they able to truly make new decisions, or would they be locked into computer algorithm calculations of what the person they once were might have done? Was there even a difference either way? The complexity of wondering about it all made Sam’s head hurt. She could understand why Harald wanted to look at things from a more straightforward point of view.

“If you just ghosts, not real, what that make Gurgle?”

They both looked down at him. He was still in the form of a dragon that he’d worn when they were last in Valhalla, although this simulation had him as a person-sized one, instead of a massive beast Sam could ride into battle. Sam wasn’t sure how to respond. More, she wanted to know how Harald would respond. Harald had objected to Sam’s attachment to Gurgle at first, but those objections faded over time. He hadn’t said anything negative about her strange friend in quite some time.

Harald knelt in front of Gurgle, bringing his face down to about the same level as the dragon’s eyes. Sam listened intently to hear what he had to say.

“Gurgle, I am a simple man. Always have been. You’ve proven yourself a hundred times over to be brave and honorable. You’ve had my back, and Sam’s back, every time you’ve ever been needed,” Harald said. “I don’t know what you are. I don’t really care, either. You are my friend, and that’s enough for me.”

He stood back up. “We are all each others’ friends. That should be enough for all of us. We are all we need. Let the living tend to each other. They have already grieved for us.”

Then he walked away, leaving Sam and Gurgle to stare after him. Sam wondered at the last words he said. Who was grieving? No one mourned for Gurgle since he’d never known people from the outside world. He’d been ‘born’ inside Valhalla. Her living body was still out there, so no one was grieving for her. They all still had their version of Samantha. None of her friends and family even knew the digital version of her existed. Which meant he was speaking about himself.

“Who grieved for you, Harald?” Sam whispered. Who was he missing so badly that he would rather avoid the living altogether than risk contact? She felt sad for her friend. Sam knew what it was like to want to see someone again, but dread the idea at the same time.

An alarm sounded. The virtual reality around her shimmered, then solidified. That only happened if the ship was transferring computer cycles to some other purpose. Sam tapped a button on a wall that opened up a communication channel from the simulation to the rest of the ship.

“Get me the CAG,” she said.

Moments later Keladry responded. “Get your people scrambled. We’ve picked up an energy surge. About to make a jump there to investigate.”

“Understood. Any idea what we’re up against? Was it an incoming drive signature?” Sam asked. If a bunch of enemy ships had just jumped into Earth’s system, they could be in for a hell of a fight.

“Negative. The energy readings were too small and steady to be a jump exit. Computer analysis matches the energy readings the Hermes took of the ring while it was still active,” Kel said. “Get everyone to their fighters, fast!”

“Understood,” Sam said. She ended the transmission.

Shit, that was bad. A jump signature would be dangerous enough. But the only jump-capable ships the enemy had shown were relatively small vessels. The larger the ship, the more exotic matter was required to make a jump drive. It got exponentially worse as the ship grew larger. The Intrepid was about the size of an aircraft carrier, and it had taken years of work to create enough of the stuff to make the drive. Hooking an Alcubierre drive onto anything more substantial just wasn’t practical.

But the alien race had figured out a way around all that. After arriving in the Sol system with a single jump-capable ship, they’d constructed a ring that could generate a wormhole portal between star systems. Once it was finished, they started hauling in some truly monstrous ships. Blind luck and superb timing, plus the sacrifice of the Hermes, had been the only things that saved Earth that day.

That one jump ship had escaped, hiding in the outer reaches of the solar system. If it had managed to create a new ring, then they were all in a lot of trouble. A ring activation might mean that the ship was just leaving, running for home. But Sam didn’t think so. It could have jumped for its home system whenever it wanted to. No, if it had built a new ring it was for one purpose: to bring in an assault fleet capable of finishing the job the first one had failed to accomplish.

Sam tapped the wall intercom again, this time broadcasting so her voice would be heard throughout the entire simulation area. Every digital pilot would hear her.

“All pilots report to fighters and prepare for immediate jump and launch on arrival. This is not a drill. We have probable enemy action. Move it, people!”

They all scrambled up, each one popping out of view as they exited the sim to return to their vessels. Sam watched them go. So many newbies in this group. So few experienced pilots. They had more green meat than veterans in the squadron. They’d been training, of course, but that was no replacement for real action. If it came down to fighting today, some of those pilots were going to die.

Sam blinked back to her Wasp and started running her pre-flight checks. A ring activation changed everything. They’d been hunting for the enemy to prevent them from doing precisely this. If they’d found the ship before it could build a new ring, stopping it would have been relatively easy. But they were too late. This particular needle had been too well hidden in the hay, and now they were going to be in for the fight of their lives.

Five

One look at the scans as they cleared was enough to tell Thomas they weren’t going to win this fight. As the scan resolved, he could see what looked like the same jump-capable ship they’d fought before, which he expected. And an active ring, which also wasn't a shock. But the aliens had already managed to bring four other vessels of similar size and two of their dreadnoughts through. Buzzing around them was a veritable horde of small fighter craft.

He was a good ship’s captain. His crew was excellent, the fighter pilots on board the very best they could find. None of it would matter, not in the face of such overwhelming odds. They might be able to do a little damage before the enemy blasted them into atoms, but even that would take a miracle.

“Abort the rest of the fighter launch,” he said. “Recall all fighters. We’re getting out of here.”

The Intrepid was the only jump-capable ship humanity had, and they were incredibly difficult to build. There weren’t going to be many new ones anytime soon. Humankind had other ships, but none that could reach this far from Earth in time to do any good. If he lost the Intrepid today, that was it. Earth might win a few battles in the future, but the war would already be decided.

“Railguns, open fire as you bear,” Thom ordered. “Target their smaller ships. Let’s see if we can take one out.”

The dreadnoughts wouldn’t have jump drives. Otherwise, the aliens would have sent them in directly via jump rather than waiting to build another ring. He wasn’t as sure of the smaller ships. At least one of them was jump-capable. That’s how they’d gotten into this solar system in the first place. Was it just the one, or were all four support ships able to jump? If they could all chase the Intrepid, then even running for it might not be enough to save them.

Thom ground his teeth together in frustration. The fighter wings from Ghost Squadron were already out there, and they were growing dangerously close to entering the engagement box with the alien fighters. Once they got embroiled in a skirmish, it would be damned hard to recover them.

“What’s going on with our fighters?” Thomas asked.

“They’re trying to come about, but they’ve got a lot of velocity to overcome, sir.”

“Understood. Helm, lay in a course that will bring us in closer, so our pilots don’t have as far to go,” Thomas said.

“That will bring us dangerously close to the enemy guns, sir.”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? The longer they waited to jump out, and the closer they came to the enemy fleet, the more likely they were to come under active fire. At this range, the enemy beam weapons weren’t accurate enough to target them well, but that would change as they drew closer. Should he leave those pilots out there? Abandon them to their fate? If it meant saving the ship and giving humanity a fighting chance, maybe sacrificing a few pilots was worth it.

No, not if he could do anything else. They weren’t that desperate yet. Those pilots might call themselves ‘ghosts,’ but as far as Thomas was concerned, they were still people. He wasn’t going to leave anyone behind.

“Take us in. Evasive rolls to throw off their targeting. Give me a spread of missile fire to keep them busy,” Thomas said.

“Aye, sir.”

The Intrepid’s deck vibrated as the engines pushed them forward. It was going to be close. That first wing was turning around, but the enemy fighters were almost in range. They’d chase his Wasps all the way back to the Intrepid. He was going to lose people, regardless, but maybe they could do something to mess with the enemy fighter advance.

“New targets. Watch out for our guys, but I want all our guns aimed at the incoming fighters. Let’s see if we can get them to scatter and stall their approach a little. Our people need breathing room. Let’s get them some,” Thomas said. “Anti-missile guns, too.”

All around his CIC, the crew was working furiously at their controls. Shooting would be tricky if they were to avoid blowing up their own ships. But the Intrepid could spit out a hail of gun and missile fire that ought to act a lot like a cloud of flak. No single shot was enough to stop such a vast group of fighters, but collectively all the crap they could send might work.

“Missile launches detected from the enemy dreadnoughts, sir.”

“Time to impact?” Thomas asked.

“Seven minutes, fourteen seconds. Should I divert anti-missile fire back at them, or keep it on the enemy fighters?”

Was that enough time? He could aim the anti-missile guns at the missiles and nail a good chunk of them. But if they could jump out before the weapons arrived there would be no need to shoot them down. Thomas eyed the projection for his fighters' recall. It was going to be damned close.

“Negative. Maintain fire on the enemy fighters. And patch me through to the flight leaders out there,” Thomas said.

“You’re on, sir.”

“Sam, Harald, you hearing me?” Thomas asked.

“Yes, sir,” Sam said.

“Here. Damn, this is a target-rich environment out here!” Harald said.

Thomas smiled in spite of the severity of the situation. Leave it to a Marine to call this debacle ‘target-rich.’ “Most folks would say they were outnumbered, Marine.”

“We’re always outnumbered, sir. Part of the job,” Harald said.

“I need you both to get your people back here ASAP. We’re maneuvering for a faster pickup, but that’s going to put us in range of the enemy guns sooner than I’d like. Soon as your last fighter lands, we’re jumping out of here,” Thomas said.

“I’m not sure we’re going to make it in time,” Harald said. “My flight can perform a holding action, keep them at bay a little longer while the rest of you get clear.”

His people were the furthest out, having been launched first. Thomas tapped his console a few times and brought up the latest projections. Harald was right. There was no way they could make it, not on their present acceleration curves, anyway.

“I’m not leaving crew behind out there, Harald,” Thomas said.

“We’re not crew. We’re Ghosts. We’re doing what we’re supposed to be, out here. It’s our job, sir,” Harald said.

“You damned well are crew. Don’t back-talk me. Listen,” Thomas said. He had the computer run a quick simulation. The acceleration curves were based on human pilots, not digital ones. Maybe they could push things a little harder. That would mean landing at a lot more velocity than was safe. But maybe there was a way.

“Accelerate to ten gravities. I want you to punch it. Open some distance between you and those aliens,” Thomas said.

“We’re going to hit the Intrepid like missiles if we do that,” Sam protested.

“Leave that to me. We’ll be feeding coordinates over to you shortly,” Thomas said. “Move it. We’re running out of time. Intrepid out.”

Thomas couldn’t do the math for this one. It was beyond him. The course change requirements would have to be precise and perfect, or those fighters would slam into his ship with enough force to blast it to bits. But he could get the Intrepid’s course changed.

“Helm, match their vector and accelerate along the same path. Move away from them,” Thomas said. “As they approach, we’ll roll the ship so we can take them into the bays on both sides.”

“Sir, I can’t possibly match their speed in time. They’re already moving too fast and accelerating.”

“Don’t worry. I’m going to have them slow down before they arrive,” Thomas said.

Then he tapped a few more commands into his computer terminal, putting him in touch with the only being on board who might be able to work out the complex course changes required for all their people to land safely.

Six

Gurgle didn’t have a fighter to command. He’d tried once but hadn’t picked up on the skills required very rapidly. Back on the Hermès, he’d been placed in charge of directing the ship’s automated repair systems. It was a good job. He’d done it very well.

The Intrepid mostly used human crew for repairs, but there were a few automated systems involved. Gurgle was again in charge of those systems. He was to coordinate with the human damage control groups to maximize the efficiency of both human and automated damage control efforts. Until they actually took damage, he didn’t have much to do. Which is why he was surprised to get a call from the Admiral.

“I need a course plotted. It’s complicated, but our pilots are counting on you. Can you do it?” Admiral Stein asked him.

Gurgle surveyed the scan data he’d been sent. He checked the parameters. The first flight was moving too fast. Second flight would do fine, but Harald’s people were coming in too rapidly for a safe landing. If they hit the brakes too soon they’d be torn apart by enemy fighters, though. It was a complex problem, but he thought he could spot a way to save at least most of the Ghosts.

“Gurgle understand. Gurgle fix,” he replied.

He set about working the problem, borrowing most of the CPU cycles from the Intrepid’s central computer to reach a solution as rapidly as possible. The ship’s computer and he had reached an understanding. It recognized in him a similar program, and he’d asserted his authority over it well enough that it obeyed him when he asked for more computing speed.

“Have solution. Need helm control,” Gurgle said, twenty-seven seconds later.

“That was fast. You need our helm? The fighters’ control?” Thomas asked.

“Both,” Gurgle said.

There was a pause. He wondered if the Admiral was going to give him control of the ship or not. It wouldn’t be the first time a human didn’t want to trust him with something important. Gurgle was used to that. It wouldn’t be good for Sam, though. Or Harald. Harald said Gurgle was his friend.

Gurgle didn’t have a lot of friends. He was loath to watch any of them blown to bits. Even in Valhalla that was never a good thing, and in this place it was even worse. Gurgle sent commands to the Intrepid’s computer. If he was denied control, the ship might be convinced to hand it over to him anyway.

“Understood. Passing you helm control for the Intrepid and all fighters,” Thomas said. “Good luck.”

“Gurgle thanks you,” he said.

He didn’t need luck for this, though. The same algorithms that made him excellent at carving and fixing things in Valhalla proved to be strong in this world’s math. He didn’t know why, but it didn’t really matter. Saving his friends was the critical thing.

Gurgle fed the routing information into the Intrepid’s computer, which then transmitted it out to the fighters. They maintained their present speed and heading. He turned the Intrepid sideways. The Admiral’s idea of rolling the ship was a good one. But he hadn’t thought of the best way to get the fighters in fastest.

Alien beam weapons flashed by the ship. If the guns hit a bay, he might lose fighters. No telling which ones wouldn’t have a place to land, so it was better if the beams hit other areas. Gurgle timed the rolls to the enemy rate of fire. A beam slammed into the top of the Intrepid, ripping away armored plating. A few seconds later another beam shattered the armor on the ship’s belly. But no beams struck her on the sides where the vulnerable hangar bays were placed.

Sam’s flight came home first, landing in the bays they’d just left a few minutes before. That was the relatively easy part. Harald’s flight was more challenging.

Gurgle kept them rocketing toward the Intrepid until almost the last moment. Then at precisely the right second, he had Harald’s fighters flip over so that their thrusters were aimed at the Intrepid. Their engines lit up again, burning with brilliant intensity. The maximum thrust from those fighters was incredible, and Gurgle pushed them to the edge of their theoretical stress tolerance, well past the safe zone.

He didn’t flip the fighters back around to land them. That would be the standard way to land a fighter, but there wasn’t time. One after another, they shot into the Intrepid’s bays - backward, the engines cutting off just a few hundred meters away from the ship. The fighters were still moving at a decent pace when they impacted the decks.

Gurgle checked video cameras in the hangar bays. Fighters squealed along deck plates, throwing showers of sparks everywhere. One crashed into the far wall and crumpled like a wadded up ball of paper. Another caught fire. Human attendants rushed forward to put the flames out before they spread.

The last Wasp came in just as the enemy fighters were drawing into weapon range. Beams shot out from the noses of a hundred tiny ships. The Intrepid shook under multiple impacts. Alone, each of the small enemy ships wasn’t a significant threat. But collectively that many could do enormous damage. Gurgle hoped the Admiral would be able to get them away before the damage level went up too high.

“All pilots are in, Admiral,” Gurgle sent. He released control of the ship back to the humans flying it. That had been fun, though. Gurgle tracked down the subroutines that would allow him back into the system again if he wanted to control the Intrepid. The ship’s computer resisted for a few moments, but since he was already within its data structures, it rapidly recognized him as a legitimate program and accepted his demands for access.

This was good. Protecting Sam and her friends was Gurgle’s primary goal. Anything which helped him fulfill that task was good. Anything which blocked his way was bad.

“Well done, Gurgle!” Stein said. “All right, we’re out of here.”

Gurgle wondered briefly what the Admiral would say if he knew his control of the Intrepid had just been compromised. His analysis of interactions over the past months indicated it would not be met with approval, so he decided to keep the information to himself. If the Admiral disapproved, he might take measures to prevent Gurgle from getting back into the ship’s control systems. While he didn’t think it likely he would need to take over the vessel without consent, it wasn’t impossible to imagine a time where Sam’s life might be at risk and he needed to act more rapidly than permission would be granted.

Better to have the power and not use it, than to need it and not have it.

Gurgle felt the ship’s energy surge, the power coursing through internal conduits as the vessel jumped clear of the deadly ambush.

Seven

Sam didn't know precisely how awful the situation had gotten. She knew it was bad enough, though. A quick glance at her external cameras told her that much. The fighter next to her had landed poorly, smashing one wing against the deck and crumpling its nose against the far wall of the hangar bay. The one beyond that was even worse. That fighter hadn't survived the landing at all, leaving a blazing fireball what once one of their pilots had been.

Her Wasp was peppered with small bits of damage, the results of fragments from the explosion. But it could have been worse. At least it could still fly. Many of the others were in much worse shape.

“CIC, I need to sit-rep. What the hell is going on?” Sam asked over the radio channel.

“Stand by,” came the response.

It wasn’t a voice Sam recognized, nor was it an answer she was happy with. But the fact that some unknown person was answering the radio meant that things had to be pretty hairy up there. Sam sucked back the harsh words she was about to reply with and steeled her voice into a polite tone.

“Understood,” Sam said. “Put me in contact with the Admiral as soon as you’re able.”

“Will do, ma’am,” he replied.

Well, that was frustrating. She’d just have to try and figure out what was going on by herself. Sitting in her fighter wasn’t the best place to do that. It was time to move. With a thought, Sam transferred her consciousness to the shared virtual reality the Ghost pilots lived in on board the Intrepid. There were a lot fewer pilots in the ready room when she arrived than there ought to be. Sam saw most of her own flight, and more were entering as she watched. But Harald’s flight was woefully underrepresented. Sam knew his group would’ve had the worst of the casualties. They were launched first and had gotten back to the ship last. Frankly, she wasn’t sure how any of them had managed to dock at all. Not in the time they had. It was a miracle.

Then Harald appeared, flashing into view. He looked worn, but he was still alive! Sam’s virtual body sagged with relief, then she drew herself up straight and strode toward him. When she hadn’t seen him upon arrival, she feared the worst. If anyone had stayed behind to assure the rest of the pilots make it back safely, Harald would have been the one. She was just glad her friend was still with her!

“Harald. Thank god you made it in! How bad is it?” Sam asked.

“Bad enough. I lost a quarter of my pilots outright, and a few of the other fighters are good for nothing but scrap. None of us are combat operational,” Harald said.

“Damn,” Sam said. So much damage in just the first skirmish and they hadn't even touched the enemy. Sam tried to think of the lives lost, but all she could consider was how totally screwed they were. The aliens were back, with even more forces than before. This was precisely the situation they'd been hoping to avoid.

“They have an active gate. What the hell are we supposed to do now?” Sam asked.

“You’re asking me? I’m a tactician. You're supposed to be the strategist here," Harald said. He gave a grim chuckle “Honestly, I think we do our best and die trying. I don’t see a way to win this one. Not against these odds. Not with them able to bring in more reinforcements anytime they want.”

He wasn’t wrong. With that gate active, the aliens could bring in more ships. As many as they wanted. As many as it took to finally win. With enough effort, ships, guns, and a lot of luck, Earth could beat off even the massive force they’d already seen come through. But that wasn’t worth anything if the enemy could continue bringing in more vessels at will.

Above all else, they had to find a way to shut down that gate. And this time, they needed to stop the enemy from opening another one. Sure, they could come again. But at least Earth would have time to recover, rebuild, and get more ships into space. Maybe Stein what have some ideas about how best to proceed. Sam hoped so, anyway.

A beep alerted Sam to an incoming message.

“Admiral Stein would like to see you in his ready room ASAP,” the message read. Sam heaved a sigh. This time it was Captain Edwards sending the messages. A familiar name had to be a good sign, right?

“Inform the admiral we’ll be there directly,” Sam replied.

She sent the reply and then severed the connection. The invitation was only for her, but she had every intention of bringing Harald as well. He was second in command of the Ghosts and needed to be in the loop about what was going on as much as she did.

“The Admiral wants to see us,” Sam said.

“Us?” Harald asked. Clearly, he assumed the invitation was for her alone. He wasn’t wrong, but Sam didn’t have to let him know that.

“Us,” Sam confirmed. “Meet me there.”

Sam’s avatar blinked as she gave the mental command to transition her consciousness into the ready room computers. She wasn’t sure why; the transition was instantaneous and required nothing more than her thought command. It annoyed Sam that she’d picked up foible somehow. Leftovers from having once been in a physical body? She thought maybe that was it. How much of that old self was still there? How many of those habits were helpful? How many were harmful?

All things to worry about later. Looking out from a computer monitor had been disconcerting at first. Sam couldn’t move. She couldn’t pan her vision around the room. The same familiar dread of being confined that she felt the first time resurfaced for a moment, but she pushed it aside. That doing so still took an effort after all these months made her wonder again about those vestigial human quirks.

Admiral Stein, the CAC, and his executive officer were already seated at the table. Sam observed them through a camera mounted above her computer monitor. They could in turn see a picture of her avatar’s face displayed on a small screen. Harald’s visage appeared on the screen opposite hers a few seconds after Sam arrived.

“Good, you're both here. We have a lot to discuss, and not a lot of time to do it in,” Stein said.

Eight

No kidding, Sam thought to herself. Not only had they turned tail and run from the first engagement with this new force, but the Intrepid was hit pretty badly, too. A good chunk of their fighter force was out of commission as well. It wasn’t just trouble. This was a disaster.

“I’m hoping you both have some good ideas about what we can do next,” Stein said. He paused, looking at Sam and Harald’s screens each in turn. “Any ideas would be good right about now.”

The CAG - the admiral’s wife, Keladry Stein, Sam recalled - glanced over at him. “Transitioning out of jump in about a minute, Thom.”

“Right, thanks,” Stein said.

“Where are we headed, sir?” Sam asked.

“Earth. Far enough out that we won’t ding the planet with our exit burst, but close enough that we can fly in for resupply. We need to get this ship fit and back out there as rapidly as possible,” Stein replied.

“Makes sense. We bringing in more pilots?” Harald asked.

“Replacements for our losses, yes,” Stein said. “I’m sorry. We tried everything we could to bring all of you back in safely. Gurgle ran the calculations, or the results would have been worse.”

“Gurgle, huh?” Harald said. “I need to thank the little rat. But honestly, Admiral, you could have left us out there. We could have covered the Intrepid’s exit, prevented any damage to the ship.”

“At the loss of even more pilots? No. I don’t throw away my crews’ lives if I can avoid it,” Stein said.

“We’re Ghosts, sir. It’s why we’re here. Every one of my warriors is prepared to die in battle,” Harald said.

Sam wanted to interject that she didn’t share Harald’s opinions on the subject, but she thought it better to hear the admiral’s reply first. How better to take a measure of a man than to see what he said under such circumstances?

“I respect that. The day may come when I ask all of you - all of us - to give that sort of sacrifice, and I appreciate its value. But not if it can be avoided,” Stein replied.

Sam’s avatar let out a little breath, like a sigh. Good to see. Stein was willing to treat all her people like they were actual people. She didn’t think every human might feel the same way, but Stein was exceptional in more than one way. It was a good thing he remained in command of the Intrepid.

“We need to see how big a force we’re facing, sir,” Sam said. “We only saw the first ships after they came through the gate. If there’s more, we need to know about it.”

“Not a problem. Every major telescope on Earth and above it will be trained on that spot in space by now. We’ll be able to get good updates, if a little delayed,” the CAG said.

“Ma’am, what’s the light lag from that position?” Sam asked. She was getting used to the idea of flitting about in space. Light lag had created a delay in communications between her scouting group. It meant there would be a lag in spotting any changes to the enemy fleet as well. How long light took to reach Earth from that spot might make a huge difference.

“About six hours,” Keladry replied.

“And the transition through jump from there to here?” Sam asked.

“It’s taking us twenty minutes. But we’re not sure about their drives, it might be longer or shorter - oh!” Keladry nodded. “I see where you’re going with this. We won’t have long to react if they vanish before they appear somewhere else.”

“We won’t have any time at all,” Sam said. “They’ll be coming at us faster than the light of their departure.”

They weren’t actually going faster than light, of course. The Alcubierre drive bent space in front and behind the ship, allowing a ship to warp its way to a destination. How much power they could pour into the drive determined how much fold there was, which in turn resulted in the effective ‘speed.’

How many of their ships could jump? That was the burning question of the day. They were pretty sure the bigger vessels couldn’t, but that wouldn’t stop the aliens from bringing a bunch of smaller, jump-capable ships through the gate.

“I’ll alert Mars and Venus colonies as soon as we exit the jump,” Stein said. “We’ll want every ship on the watch.”

Sam had a feeling they might already be too late. She checked the time. The aliens had the advantage of speed, and they’d caught the human forces off-guard. If they weren’t fools, they’d know they needed to press the edge quickly.

What would she do if she were them? Sam’s mind raced through possibilities. Most of the human fleet was stationed at Earth, with a few warships scattered elsewhere in the system. She doubted the enemy would have enough jump-capable ships handy to easily strike Earth. But the rest of the system was incredibly vulnerable. It might have been better for all concerned if they’d gone to Mars or Venus, instead of jumping home…

“Stand by for transition to real-space,” Keladry said.

There was a small flicker in the ship’s power as it shot out of jump-space in a burst of energy. From Sam’s point of view, it felt like a momentary dizziness as the ship’s computers drew processing cycles to verify their location in space. Her mind was housed in a separate system on board her fighter, of course. But while she was projecting herself through the ship’s computer to this screen, what happened on board impacted her perceptions.

There had to be a way to stop the enemy fleet. They had enough ships to devastate every colony Earth had and wreak havoc on the planet itself.

“I did notice something interesting about the alien fighters,” Harald said.

“Go ahead,” Stein replied, gesturing for him to speak.

“Look at their trajectories,” Harald said. He sent a command to the computer, and a screen on the wall displayed the battle scene moments before the Intrepid jumped out. The enemy fighters were almost on top of the ship. They’d only been able to get grazing shots off at long range, but another few seconds and they would have been right on top of the Intrepid, blasting away at point blank range.

“See the acceleration pattern?” Harald asked.

Sam didn’t see what he was talking about at first, but she could tell Stein did from the way his eyes widened.

“They weren’t slowing down,” the Admiral said.

“Nope. Not even a little. They were on course to ram the ship. I don’t think the Intrepid would have survived that,” Harald replied. “A dozen or more impacts at that speed? Could the ship have taken those hits and walked away?”

“No way in hell,” Keladry said. “We’d have been blown to bits.”

“The enemy doesn’t care about losing a few fighters to win the battle, Admiral,” Harald said. “You do, and I appreciate that. But this enemy isn’t going to play both those rules. They know this ship is their biggest threat. It’s the only vessel Earth has capable of jumps. They might not be aware of that, but they do know we’re a potential problem for them.”

“How do we beat an enemy that doesn’t care about losing their people?” Stein mused.

“How do you win against any opponent who cares more about their cause than life?” Harald countered. “By being more ruthless than they are. And by not stopping until you’d wiped them out. This is a war to the knife, sir. They’re not pulling any punches, and we can’t afford to, either.”

Nine

But the enemy force hadn’t struck yet. Maybe they were as worried about the Earth forces as Sam was about facing the aliens again. For all she knew, it was their national holiday, and their pilots all had the day off! Sam chuckled a little at the idea, but it was a good illustration of just how little they knew about these beings. They were from another star. Which one? What sort of creatures were they? They’d never seen one, hadn’t captured a single being alive. Even on the broken remnants of the ships they’d destroyed, they hadn’t found a single body. It was like they vanished when they died.

Which was possible, she supposed. There were all sorts of strange explanations for the absence of actual aliens on any of the alien vessels they’d recovered. In the end, it all added to the mystery of the situation. They had little idea what they were actually up against out there.

The aliens simply hovered near their gate, which had shut off. No more ships came through, but they didn’t attack or even advance. They certainly had enough firepower to put a hurt on Earth’s fleet, so why did they hesitate? The working theory Sam heard was that the gate took a while to charge up. The aliens might be waiting for it to recharge so they could bring in more forces before they struck.

For whatever reason they’d been given a break in the action, it was time they badly needed. The Intrepid had damage to repair, as did the flight crews. There were new pilots to bring in so they could replace the dead. Harald was overseeing the latter while Keladry looked after the former. It left Sam with precious little to do. She hated being bored. It was worse than being in a firefight, to have nothing to do.

She glanced over emails. A bunch of spam - why did that never change? No matter how good their tech became, it seemed like those who wanted to send junk mail always adapted right along with it. A note from ground-side command, giving her an update on her citizenship status. Like all the other Valhallans, the UN had restored Sam’s citizenship in return for their service. Sam was a US citizen, though, and the United States was being really slow about granting her the same rights. The United Nations telling the world that these digital beings were human beings was great, but if her nation of origin refused to acknowledge her in the same way, where did that leave Sam and the other US Valhallans?

Once this conflict was over, assuming they won, they’d have to go somewhere. A lot of them might choose to remain in the service. Sam was considering that herself. But she wanted options for all of them. It would be nice if the US would step up and be an example for the world. Canada already had, announcing they supported the UN’s decision and would restore full Canadian citizenship to any Valhallan serving who’d been Canadian before death.

It was a hard thing for a lot of folks to swallow. Sam understood that. After all, the digital minds were merely uploads of someone who was dead. She’d even seen newscasts of protests in Dallas, Charlotte, Atlanta, and other US cities. Some people were saying that the digital minds couldn’t be human, since they didn’t have souls. The soul had already moved on, they said. The copy was just a program.

She couldn’t blame them for feeling that way, even. Did she have a soul? Sam had no idea. She felt the same as she had when she was alive. Would you notice if you didn’t have a soul? She thought one ought to, but she wasn’t particularly religious and didn’t know where the major religions of the world fell on that question.

In the meantime, her application for renewed US citizenship was still in limbo while they sorted out what the official policy was going to be. Sam was losing patience with the whole thing. Maybe it was time to look into moving to Canada? At least they seemed to want the Valhallans around.

One more email caught her attention. This one was from Samantha. Her twin. Her sister - sort of, anyway. Sam hesitated before opening the letter. To say their relationship was complex was the understatement of the century. Samantha was the physical human from whom she’d been copied, after all. Out of every Valhallan digital mind, only Sam still had a physical body back in the real world. All the rest were uploaded at the moment of their body’s death.

Their co-existence wasn’t comfortable. Not for Sam, and probably not for her ‘sister,’ either. But Samantha might have more insight into some of these worries. It would be good to use her as a sounding board, anyway. Maybe it would help. It wasn’t like she had a lot of other people she could go to for advice. Certainly not the pilots she was leading. Harald saw any attachment to the physical world as weakness, so he wouldn’t be much help.

Sam felt like the real world was still vital to her. She didn’t want to live a life separate from the real. She wanted to have an impact, to make things happen, to matter. That was the real reason she’d accepted the offer to become a pilot. In Valhalla, she could only make a difference in the shadow of the real world that was the game there. Nothing in the virtual world mattered, not really anyway. But out here, everything did. It was almost too much.

She opened the email.

Sam,

Hope this reaches you OK. I know you’ve been out on the edge of the solar system. That must be damned cool! I don’t know whether I should hope you find something or pray you don’t, if you know what I mean. Either way, I am confident you’ll come through it all. I mean, I would. And you’re about as likely to survive as I would be.

Well, I’m going to send this not really knowing when you’ll get it. But when you do, I wanted you to know that I’m here if you need me. Knowing you almost as well as I know myself, you won’t feel like asking for help, but I think maybe I understand better than most how you must be feeling right about now. And I’m here if you need me. When you need me. Call. I’ll drop whatever I am doing so we can talk.

Your sister.

Well, that was a kick in the pants if ever she’d read one. Sam scanned the letter a second time. At the bottom was a contact number - Samantha’s phone? Probably her private line. This was getting real. Sam hesitated, wondering if she ought to make the call or not.

On the one hand, she really wasn’t sure how to deal with this other self that had her life. Sam recalled everything about her old existence. Her home, her job, her friends, her family; it was all there inside her. But that was this other Samantha’s life, not hers. Her life started the moment her digital self was born, Sam reminded herself. And that was the cruelest bit, that she could remember everything of her old life, but never touch it.

On the other hand, the Intrepid would break orbit soon. Sam was sure of that. They had to get back out there to face the enemy as quickly as possible. She might die in the battles ahead, and it would suck to leave anything unsaid. There might not be a better time to connect with her ‘sister,’ at least not until it was too late.

She dithered about the idea a few more minutes, mulling it over. Which course to take?

“What’re you busy with?” Harald said from behind her, startling her.

Sam was in the ready room, the shared virtual space they all used together on the Intrepid. She, like most Valhallans, felt more comfortable in a virtual form than she did as just bytes in a computer system. Having the feedback from her ‘hands’ holding a ‘tablet’ and viewing the email as letters in front of her ‘eyes’ just felt right. Even if all of those things were just a simulation.

But the downside of being in the ready room was that it wasn’t private. Harald had come up behind her while she’d been engrossed in re-reading the email. She flicked to another screen, but looking at his drawn eyebrows Sam could tell that he’d seen it.

“No good will come of that, Sam. It’s bad enough you have a doppelganger out there. Best to avoid interaction completely,” he said. To Sam’s surprise, his words were calm, his tone pitched to comfort and cajole, rather than berate her.

“I don’t know. We’re out of Valhalla, now. Maybe there’s a chance for all of us to become something more?” Sam asked.

“Not for us, no. We’re the dead. We have no place in this outside world. Hell, I’m OK with fighting for humanity. They need us, and if they fall, our little virtual world dies too, so it’s in our own best interest to help,” Harald said. “But engage with them? What, you think we’re all going to go get jobs after this is done? Buy a nice house with a picket fence? Settle down and have kids?”

His voice grew harsher with each sentence, the last one tearing from his mouth with force. Something about his past had hurt Harald badly and scared the man more than he wanted to admit. Sam looked into his eyes and saw the terror etched there. Battle, blood, and death had never frightened him. What on Earth or beyond could be so terrible that he would quail thinking about it? She didn’t know, and he wasn’t going to tell her. Not today, anyway. Maybe not ever.

Besides, he wasn’t wrong. The sort of future he described wasn’t possible for any of them now. They were no longer human beings, at least not in that respect. What use would she have for a house with a picket fence? And having children was lost to her. That other Samantha might have kids someday, but she never would. The thought stung a little, although it was an idea she’d grown used to. Something of that pain must have shown on her face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Sam,” Harald said. “I want to keep you from being hurt. That’s all I want for you. I have so damned little left worth fighting for, but I still have that. I’m sorry.”

Before Sam could reply, Harald flashed away, gone from view. He’d left her alone with her thoughts and the email. Sam wondered - should she go after him, or call Samantha? Her finger hesitated over the call button on her tablet. For a long moment, she didn’t think she had the strength to make the call. Harald’s admonitions echoed in her ears.

When she finally pushed the button, the call connected almost immediately.

Ten

Thomas was sipping coffee when the call came through. He knew right away this was the moment he’d been dreading. They knew the alien force wasn’t going to wait around forever. It was only a matter of time before they struck. The lingering question was where they would hit.

“Admiral, incoming transmission from Mars. You’re gonna want to see this, sir,” the watch officer told Thomas over the intercom.

“I’m on my way,” Thomas said.

The call wasn’t a surprise. He knew it was coming. That’s why he was sitting there drinking coffee instead of getting some rest like he probably should have been. He’d ordered downtime for his crew, both physical and digital alike. But Thom hadn’t elected to take his own counsel and sleep. He shook his head ruefully. The coffee would have to do, for now at least.

The Intrepid was quietly nestled in orbit around Earth. There was no acceleration to give them a sense of artificial gravity, which made it easier for him to get around instead of harder. Thomas was an old space hand, able to move quickly in zero gravity. He all but flew from the officer’s mess hall up to the bridge. The doors parted. He entered to find only a minimal watch crew on duty. Again, something he ordered. They could recall the rest of the team quickly enough if it became needful.

“Report,” Thomas said.

“Mars got hit hard, sir,” Edwards said. “It’s probably easier for you to just see the transmission yourself.”

“Put it on the main screen,” Thomas said. Then he had another thought. “Did they send data on an engagement?”

“Yes, sir. We have full telemetry on the entire fight. Due to communications lag, everything is sixteen minutes old.”

Time lag. Radio waves took a while to travel from Earth to Mars or vice versa. It was possible for the Intrepid to cross in a fraction of the time it took a message to go from one planet to the other. But it also meant that whatever had happened on Mars, they were far too late to respond by the time the signal reached Earth.

“Then put the telemetry up on the holo-projector as well. Synchronize it with the action on the screen,” Thomas said. Every new bit of information that he could get about the enemy’s ships and capabilities was a boon. The more he could learn about their tactics, the more likely he wants to defeat them when they inevitably struck again.

The screen on the bridge lit up with faces, images, and more. It showed multiple vessels all trying to talk to one another, and video plays from each of their point of view in different slices of the screen. The hologram projector gave a more comprehensive look at the entire battle as it unfolded.

Three of the smaller alien ships, each about the size of an earth cruiser, appeared abruptly above Mars. The timing, coordination, and course accuracy were terrific. Two of the ships appeared close enough to the space station floating above Mars that they were in able to impact it with waves of charged particles released by their exit out of jump-space.

Thomas watched as both waves collided with the structure at nearly the speed of light, tearing its frame into wreckage and bits of molten metal. Just like that, a massive structure that had taken almost a year to complete and all five hundred souls on board were gone.

But the enemy didn’t stop there. Mars had six human ships in orbit. Each of them was on high alert, ready for precisely this kind of attack. The hope was that six ships would be enough to repel a small incursion like this.

All three alien ships launched wings of fighters. The fighters dove in at the human vessels, tearing away with beams of charged particles. The human ships were mostly armed with large missiles. Those were excellent for dealing with other large ships, but next to useless against fighters. And there was no carrier full of Wasps at Mars to deal with the alien fighters. All the human vessels had to defend themselves were anti-missile systems.

They lashed out with those, cutting down enemy ships. Thomas watched and nodded with appreciation as he saw the six human vessels come closer together so that their anti-missile defenses could better coordinate. Even more alien fighters were blown apart. The defense was working. Meanwhile, the Earth ships were firing missiles at the three alien cruisers as rapidly as their tubes could load. The rockets were still crossing the gap between the two forces, but in less than a minute they would tear viciously into those alien cruisers.

Thomas had a sinking feeling in his gut as he watched the battle play out. He was missing something. He could sense that. But what was it? What had the human captains not seen in time to save themselves?

Because he already knew how this battle had played out. If the Mars defense had been successful, Edwards would have been jubilant. Instead, the man was somber, his lips pursed, and his eyes downcast.

Then he saw it. Thomas knew what the aliens we were about to do. What they had done, nearly half an hour ago, he corrected himself. Because everything he was watching had already happened. The damned light lag had cost them dearly. If the Intrepid had been able to jump in, could Thomas and his ship have been able to make a difference? Would he have been able to spot the alien strategy in time to warn the other ships and save them?

He didn’t know, and it was futile to speculate.

All six human vessels were now tightly packed. On the plus side, they were devastating the alien fighter wing by coordinating their fire. But Thomas already knew from experience that the aliens cared little for their individual pilots. They were perfectly willing to sacrifice a few fighters, or even a few larger vessels, to achieve their objectives.

He looked at the missiles still tracking their way across to the alien cruisers. At about twelve seconds until impact, Thomas saw what he’d been expecting. The aliens hadn’t opened fire with their main cannons at all. Nor had they fired even a single defensive shot against the massive wave of oncoming missiles. But they didn’t need to. At nine seconds until impact, all three alien ships blinked away, vanishing into jump space.

There was a long pause in the action. The only things left on the hologram were the six human vessels and a swarm of angry alien fighters surrounding them. The Earth ships were hammering away at the fighters buzzing around them like gnats. In another few minutes, the last of them would be destroyed. Thomas looked up at the main screen, where communication between the ships was ongoing. The captains were all talking to one another. None of them seemed to understand what was going on. Thomas shook his head.

They had no idea how to fight the technology they were up against. They’d never had to deal with anything like this before. Another fifteen seconds went by.

Then space opened up, the view from the ship cameras a brilliant kaleidoscope of rioting colors. The flash lasted for the briefest moment before each camera winked out. On the hologram, the telemetry grew fuzzier. It was less precise, Thomas figured because the only remaining source was radar towers on the surface. All six human ships have been instantly obliterated by the particle waves generated when all three alien vessels emerged from jump space at point-blank range.

The human fleet destroyed, the aliens turned their attention to Mars itself. Interestingly enough, the orbiting cruisers didn’t seem to have any weapons capable of damaging the surface. Or if they did, they didn’t use them. That made Thomas wonder if the only weapons the ships were armed with were those particle beam guns he’d seen them used before. If correct, it was useful information to have.

But that didn’t stop their remaining fighters from diving into the thin atmosphere of Mars, targeting every active radar source they could find. One after another each source of data on the space above Mars winked out. Until finally there were no sources left.

Thomas was blind. He couldn’t see what was happening above Mars. The aliens could be doing anything up there. They could be systematically wiping out the human colony on the surface, departing without firing the shot, or something else entirely. There was no way to know without going there to see.

Which was probably precisely what the aliens had in mind.

Eleven

If Sam could have held her breath while waiting for the call to connect, she would have. As it was, she found herself wishing that she could hold her breath. Or drum her fingers on a desktop. Or bounce her knee up and down. Anything to let some of the tension and nervousness out.

But she was back in her fighter. It was the only place she could be sure of complete privacy when she made this call. The last thing Sam wanted was for someone to come wandering over in the middle of this particular discussion. Particularly Harald. He wouldn’t understand, and Sam didn’t want to hurt him.

The phone call connected. Her wait was over, but Sam found herself wanting to flee. She could hang up the phone right now. She didn’t have to do this.

Yes, she did. Not for anyone else’s sake. This call was for her. Somehow, Sam felt like this mattered. She wasn’t sure just how, or why. But she trusted her gut.

A face appeared in front of her. Well, that wasn’t quite right, either. Sam’s body was a Wasp fighter. So the image of her doppelgangers face didn’t literally appear in the air near the fighter. Instead, it appeared in the virtual space that was Sam’s home while she was residing within the small vessel, but not actively controlling it. It was like a miniature virtual world, where Sam could make herself at home.

She realized that she was staring dumbly at her other self and chuckled. Samantha - the other Sam - must have reached the same conclusion, because she broke into a smile as well.

“Sam! It’s good to hear from you. Are you back in the neighborhood? I know you been away,” Samantha said.

‘Away’ was one way of putting it. Sam had been on the outer reaches of the solar system for months. She figured Samantha had the security clearance to know that, and probably already did. But there was no sense putting too much sensitive information out in a transmission like this, no matter how secure the line was supposed to be.

“Close enough to have a conversation for a change,” Sam said. “Things have been hectic, and I don’t think they’re going to get better anytime soon. But we’re working on it. How are things down on earth?”

“About the same. Not as busy as you, I’ll bet. So, I’m sure this isn’t purely a social call. What’s up?” Samantha asked.

“Actually, it is a social call. I wanted to talk to someone that I could trust. If I can’t trust myself, then I’m in a lot of trouble, aren’t I?” Sam said.

“Oh! OK. What did you want to ask about?” Samantha asked.

Sam gave herself a moment to think about that question. Why was she calling? Was it to find out if Harald was right after all? No, there was more to it than that. It wasn’t one single question, but rather a whole bunch of questions, all interconnected.

“I guess I’m just worried about life. After this is all over, assuming we win, who am I then? What do I become?” Sam asked. “After all, I’m you. You’re me. Except… Not anymore. Not really.”

Samantha nodded back at her. “I know what you mean. It’s the little things that make the difference between us. You say things a different way sometimes. Your choices are just a bit off from what I might do in the same situation. It’s weird. But we’re not the same person now, even if we were at the beginning. We’ve diverged.”

Sam knew all that. She’d made the same observations more than once. At first, she thought she imagined it. After all, they were supposed to be the same person. Sam was the uploaded consciousness and memories of Samantha. By all rights, they ought to be identical.

But Sam had a lot of experiences while she was in Valhalla, not all of them good. Her time there had shaped her, molded her into something else. Just like Samantha’s experiences in the physical world had made her different from the moment Sam was uploaded.

“I’ve noticed that too. So, you’re saying I am my own person?” Sam asked.

“I think that goes without saying. There’s no way I could be a fighter jock,” Samantha said with a grin. “You are who you are. Be proud of that. We both came from good stock.”

Those last two words made Sam wince. She tried to hide it, but her double could see a virtual image of her face just like Sam had a vision of Samantha’s. The emotions were too raw to muffle them completely.

“What is it? What did I say?” Samantha asked.

How to answer this one? Sam desperately tried to think of a way to explain how she felt without coming off like an asshole. It wasn’t going to be easy.

But she didn’t need to explain. Sam saw understanding dawn in Samantha’s eyes before she could open her mouth to speak.

“Good stock. You’re worried about our parents, are you?” Samantha asked

“Are they? Our parents, I mean. They’re your parents. That doesn’t necessarily make them mine,” Sam said.

“Want me to get them on the phone right now? I can make this a three-way conversation with the flick of a button,” Samantha said. She raised her right index finger as if she was about to connect the call. Sam rushed to stop her.

“No! No, not yet, anyway. If you think they’d be okay talking to me, maybe we can set something up after all of this is done?”

“I don’t think it’ll be as big a problem as you seem to,” Samantha said. “They’ll be a little weirded out, sure. But I think they’ll come around fast. They always have.”

That was true. Sam could remember it like it was yesterday. Everything any of their children had done, no matter how strange or bad, their parents had always stuck by them.

“Maybe after this is over, then,” Sam said. “I don’t want to burden them with the risk of losing me when they’ve never even met me. Once the fighting is over, we can talk again.”

“Sounds reasonable to me. So what else is on the agenda?” Samantha asked.

An alarm blared throughout the ship’s computer system, distracting Sam from whatever she was about to say. Something was up. Something big. Sam looked away to see what was going on in the ship. Her mental command opened a window into the ship systems. General quarters was being sounded. Either they were in a fight or about to be. Sam looked back at her double, whose eyes were wide.

“Sounds like you have to go. Be safe out there, okay?” Samantha asked.

“I’ll do my best,” Sam said.

“And Sam? Remember what I said. They’re going to be fine about you. Just wait and see. You do matter.”

With those words, Samantha closed the connection, leaving Sam alone to her thoughts and whatever new emergency was unfolding around her. She shook her head to clear it - another meaningless gesture left over from her life in a physical body but imprinted upon her consciousness nonetheless. Then with a small mental effort, Sam willed herself to lodge solidly within the Wasp’s frame. Its form became her body altogether. She was ready for whatever was coming.

Twelve

Thomas drummed his fingers on the armrest of his seat. He thought furiously as the seconds ticked by. Earth had set a pair of telescopes on duty to monitor the situation on Mars. They had a visual on the alien ships again, even if it was a quarter hour old. They were flitting about, never staying in one place very long. Nor were they moving in a predictable orbit. They danced around in an erratic pattern that the computer said was utterly random.

There were never any two ships close enough to one another that they could both be hit by the same Albucierre wave, either. The aliens knew precisely how to play this game. Even if the Intrepid got lucky and nailed one of the ships, the other two would be fine.

He went over their options. There were still six ships out by the gate - two dreadnoughts and four smaller vessels. A strike against a force of that size was out of the question. The three-ship fleet was intentional. It was just enough to be tempting, but not so much that it would feel overwhelming.

“It’s a trap,” his wife’s voice came from beside him. “You can see that, right?”

Thomas glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled. “Absolutely. But I might decide to spring it, anyway.”

“Why? I’m worried about the folks on Mars, too. But they’re dug in well. With luck, most of the people on the colony had time to get to deep shelters. God knows there’s enough of them,” Kel said.

Those shelters were leftovers from the war between Earth and Mars. Martian colonists had to prepare to defend themselves against a much more numerous opponent. Thom’s father had paid for the first deep shelters, massive caverns hollowed out of the bedrock. More had been constructed by the government afterward. They were designed to survive direct nuclear strikes, so even if the aliens resorted to kinetic bombardment anyone who’d managed to get inside them should be OK.

“True, but I’ve got something else in mind. I’d like to try to turn their trap around on them. See if I can spring it in a way that surprises them,” Thomas said. “Every enemy ship we can pick off will help.”

“Capacitors charged, sir,” Edwards said. “We have a full charge on the jump drive.”

That would be more than enough for what he had in mind. “Go get the fighters ready, Kel. We’re launching the instant we arrive.”

“Just like last time?”

“Hopefully without the early withdrawal. But you’ll have to keep at least one cruiser occupied. Think your pilots are up to it?”

“Better be, or I’ll be having words with them,” Kel replied. “Good luck, Thom.”

Then she turned and pushed off, soaring through the microgravity toward the exit door. Thom watched her go, wishing her the same. He hated having her up there with him. It was bad enough that he had to risk his own life. Risking both their lives when they had a child waiting for them down on Earth felt irresponsible. But she’d been right. Kel was the best they had at what she did. He needed her out there if they were going to have any shot at all.

“Tell all decks to secure for a jump,” Thomas said.

“Aye, sir,” Edwards replied.

“Helm, I need you to plot me a double jump. It’s going to be tricky. You up for some on-the-fly math?” Thomas asked.

“Yes, sir.” The young man seated at the ship’s controls seemed nervous, but his voice was steady.

“Good enough,” Thomas replied. He already had the first jump coordinate ready and sent it to the navigation computer.

The aliens were darting around randomly, but they were still orbiting at close range to the planet below them. Thomas probably wouldn’t hit any of them with a particle wave from his jump exit. But he could land the Intrepid damned close to them. That would do.

There was one more thing that might be able to help them. One other thread Thomas could tug on. He opened up a communication line from his seat and sent an encrypted string of text via a scrambled laser beam. The message was only a few words. “Ready yet? Need is getting desperate.”

He wasn’t sure if they’d be able to reply before he had to jump out, but it was worth waiting a few more seconds just in case. This was his last ace, but it was one that could turn the tides of the upcoming battle entirely in his favor.

The response came rapidly, just a few seconds after he sent the message: “Not yet. Working round the clock.”

Thom pursed his lips and shook his shoulders, trying to loosen the knots frustration and worry were leaving there. No secret weapon for this fight, anyway. Maybe they’d be able to finish it soon, though. If he could just keep things together a little longer… At least Thomas was able to go into battle knowing that even if the worst happened, humanity still had one more line of defense it could pull out of a hat.

“All right, we’re go for jump. Bring us in,” Thomas said.

There was a flicker of movement as the ship entered jump-space. It warped directly toward Mars, folding space ahead of the vessel and opening it wider behind. The effect was something like shooting a watermelon seed between your fingers if that somehow also narrowed the distance the seed had to travel. It wasn’t going to be a long transition. The Intrepid was effectively moving at ten times the speed of light. In theory, the drive could do a lot better than that, but Thomas didn’t want to push the engines to the breaking point. Less than two minutes for a trip which would have taken days for an ordinary ship. That felt like more than enough.

Thom tapped his console, opening a connection to Keladry. “All fighters launch as soon as we arrive. Target the nearest alien ship and blow the hell out of it.”

“We’re on it. Good hunting yourself,” Kel replied.

The waiting was always hard. Thomas forced his mind to stillness. Getting worked up did no one any good. Besides, a few more seconds and they’d arrive above Mars. Then this battle would begin in earnest. He watched the last seconds tick away.

At precisely the same moment the timer reached zero, the Intrepid exploded back out into real-space. A furious riot of colors spread out ahead of her bow, particles blasting free from the ship with all their pent-up energy.

But as he’d feared, they were nowhere near close enough to any of the alien ships to destroy them. They were near the outer edge of the alien formation, though. Only one cruiser was really close.

“Fighters launch!” Thomas said. “Edwards, engage that nearby ship with guns and missiles.”

“Aye, sir! Tracking - locked - firing!”

The Intrepid was armed with a great many missile batteries, but also with a quartet of high-powered railguns. The cannonlike devices spat massive chunks of iron down their barrels, accelerating them to high speed with magnetism. The Intrepid came slowly about, aiming down to the right as she unleashed a hail of fire on the enemy ship at point blank range.

“Got that math yet?” Thom asked the helmsman.

“Working on it, sir!”

“Work faster,” Thom replied. “CAG, all our birds away?”

“Sending the last flight out in ten seconds,” Kel replied. Her fighters must have lit out rapid-fire if she’d gotten so many free of the ship in so short a time. Excellent.

“Engage that near ship. We’ve got the other two,” Thomas said.

“Roger,” Kel replied and left the radio link.

“Got those coordinates,” the helmsman said. He was turned about in his seat. Melrose, was that his name? No, it was Melson. Ensign Melson; how could he have forgotten that?

Easily, unfortunately. A good chunk of the Intrepid’s crew had died in the first invasion, routing the original alien forces. He’d had to replace half the crew. These new people were good, Thom was sure. They wouldn’t be on board the flagship otherwise. But it was still hard to get used to all the fresh faces.

“Execute second jump,” Thomas said.

Thirteen

“Alpha flight, stick close,” Sam said. Harald’s group of fighters was still understrength. They’d replaced or repaired all the damaged craft. Getting new pilots up to speed took more time. Sure, they could upload a basic flight skill-set to each new volunteer. But nothing replaced actual hands-on experience in a fighter out in space. Harald had two newbies who’d passed his tests, but he was still down two other spots.

“We’re right with you,” Harald replied.

The Ghost Squadron quickly broke away from the Keladry’s squadron of regular pilots. They could only accelerate at a few gravities. Sam’s people were pushing ten, and could probably manage a little more in a pinch.

The plan was for the Ghosts to hit first and then come about. They’d be vulnerable turning the period where they were slowing down and then accelerating back toward the alien cruiser that was their target. But that was when Kel’s squadron would strike. With luck, the distraction would keep the aliens from firing on Sam’s people during the critical few minutes where they’d be most vulnerable. The faster they were moving, the less likely they’d be hit.

“All right, this is a hit and run. Wait until we’re right on top of them and then unload everything we’ve got,” Sam said. A few of the Ghosts replied with affirmatives, but most kept radio silence. They were all focused on the battle ahead.

A hail of gunfire flashed from the alien ship as her people got within range. Beam weapons designed to take down incoming missiles lashed out, striking one fighter after another. Sam grimaced as three names disappeared from her HUD. Three pilots gone in as many seconds.

They knew this was going to be painful, though. The Intrepid had jumped in blind. All they’d had was a best guess for where the enemy vessels might be. It was good enough that her fighters were within strike range, but far enough out that the aliens still had a space of time where her people were in a shooting gallery - and not in the fun role.

The distance between the Wasps and their targets dropped at an ever-faster rate. Her squadron was still accelerating. The alien cruiser maneuvered to avoid them, but it wasn’t going to be enough. Sam plotted a small course correction and transmitted it to the rest of the Wasps. They adjusted course like a flock of birds, veering unerringly toward their prey.

“We’ve got you now,” Sam said.

“Energy buildup on the ship,” Harald warned.

Sam checked her scans. They were preparing to jump. In a few more seconds they’d be gone, flickering out to someplace else.

“Fire!” she called.

It wasn’t as close as she’d wanted to be, but their missiles and railgun rounds would travel to the target faster than they would. Plumes of fire shot from under the wings of two dozen fighters as they fired half their missile payload. Each railgun also opened up, filling space around the cruiser’s path with chunks of high-velocity iron.

Sam watched the missiles as they zoomed in toward the enemy ship. She could see the energy buildup for the jump continue. Had they fired in time?

The first missile slammed home, and then another. A third and fourth detonated on the cruiser’s hull. Then it winked away, vanishing from sight. Damn it! Most of their missiles rocketed away into space without striking anything at all.

“Where is it? Where did it go?” Harald called.

The enemy ship wasn’t showing on Sam’s scans, which meant it was doing a long jump. Had it retreated? She didn’t think so. The other two ships were still around, closing slowly toward her position. If they weren’t pulling out, then they were preparing to strike. The particle wave when they exited the jump…!

“All fighters, break from present course and scatter!” Sam called into the radio. “Kel, human pilots too. Break and scatter!”

Her wing followed the order instantly, shifting vectors to spiral outward in a dozen different directions. Their Wasps were able to handle the high-G turns without too much trouble. The stress tolerance of the Wasp fighter was excellent.

The g-force tolerance of a human being was nowhere near as good. Sam watched as Kel’s squadron broke apart as well, each fighter veering away from the others on its own course. They were burning hard. Those pilots had to be doing six, maybe seven gravities. They couldn’t keep that up for long. But they were the target. Sam was sure of it. Their slower-moving fighters would be the tastiest target.

“Ghosts, come about and back toward the Pheonix Wing. They’re going to need our help in a minute,” Sam said.

All her people changed course again, decelerating hard to dump velocity. It would take a minute to drop to zero, and then they’d begin driving back toward Kel’s wing at ninety-eight meters per second, per second. That would be enough. It had to be enough if the aliens did what she thought they were going to.

The other two cruisers were drawing closer. A massive beam weapon shot out from one of them. Their heavy cannon were designed to strike large ships, not fighters, and usually they’d be too slow to target her craft well. But with her people dumping velocity they were vulnerable. One of her fighters vanished, vaporized in an instant. There wasn’t even a scream from the pilot before he died.

“Damn it, where’s the Intrepid?” Harald shouted.

Sam checked her scopes. It wasn’t back yet. Their mothership had jumped out once it had courses locations for the alien cruisers. It was going to jump back in on top of them. But a short jump didn’t pick up enough particles to do damage on arrival. So they needed to jump some distance, curving space and picking up random particles in space as they went. Then they’d come back and dump all that pent-up energy on a cruiser.

That was the plan, anyway. Sam had a feeling they were about to be on the receiving end of the same sort of attack.

The vanished cruiser burst back into real-space. It arrived at a course close to where Kel’s fighters would have been, had they stayed on their original heading. They’d curved away, and that saved most of them.

A brilliant light filled space ahead of the ship like a massive aurora. The wave of energized particles spat ahead of the alien ship, blazing a trail through space. The nearest fighters were caught by the edge of the wave. Two exploded, torn to shreds in seconds. Another three were severely damaged. They lost thrust control and spun away wildly. Sam winced, hoping those pilots were still alive. Given their original vectors and the spin the particles imparted, she wasn’t sure a physical human could have survived.

But her fighters were in a perfect position for payback, already turned about and accelerating in the general direction of the reappeared cruiser. A quick course correction and Sam had her nose aimed directly at the ship.

“Light ‘em up!” she called.

This was why they’d only burned half their missiles before. The Ghosts unloaded their remaining missiles. They flashed through space, blazing a score of trails toward the alien ship. It fought back, every gun it had working to lick rockets out of the void before they struck. One missile vanished, then another two, and four more. A few went wide and missed their target. That was interesting - the aliens must have some sort of tech that spoofed or decoyed the missiles somehow.

But it wasn’t enough to stop them all. Eight missiles struck home, blasting into the hull of the cruiser all along one flank. Explosions lit up the night, easily visible as the range between Sam’s Wasp and her target continued to drop.

She opened up with her nose-mounted railgun. It wasn’t over yet.

Fourteen

Thomas gripped the arms of his chair hard enough that his fingers were beginning to hurt. He relaxed them with an effort. It was always like this right before a battle. There was the long wait, where you knew the tiger was about to be in the room. The tension built until it was so high he felt like he couldn’t bear it anymore. Then they’d engage the enemy, and he’d finally be able to relax. Once the tiger was actually there in front of him, it was easy to face.

It was the waiting beforehand that killed him every time.

“Status?” he asked.

“Exit in twelve seconds,” Edwards replied.

Almost there. Just a few more moments and they’d be back in the fight. Thomas hoped his fighter pilots were OK. They’d been left alone out there in the furball for too long. Hell, he knew in his gut that some of them wouldn’t have made it. It was mostly Keladry he was worried about. She was out there risking herself. It was a distraction he could ill afford, but try as he might Thomas couldn’t entirely set aside his concern for her.

“Exiting jump!” Edwards called.

Thomas braced himself for an abrupt exit. Ever since the Intrepid’s first and near-disastrous jump, he’d held on for dear life whenever the ship came back into real-space. They’d found and fixed the problem with the drive that had caused such a catastrophic overload, but his lizard brain didn’t know that.

The slide back into regular space was as smooth as ice. A riot of color lit up the view ahead. This was the most dangerous part of jump exit. For a brief moment the burst of high-energy particles blinded their sensors. At the same time, they provided a light show that could be seen from a great distance. They were incredibly exposed and vulnerable for that precious period of time.

“Contacts! Multiple contacts nearby,” Melson said.

“Put them on the tank,” Thomas replied. His voice was calm, his gut had unclenched. It was like magic, really. As soon as he was engaging an enemy, all that tension vanished like it had never been.

“Aye, sir.”

“Guns, stand by to fire as you bear. We’ll want to hit them as soon as we have a good target,” Thomas said.

The scan resolved, showing battlespace around the Intrepid. Three alien cruisers, one heavily engaged by the fighter wings. They weren’t precisely where they’d been when the Intrepid jumped out. Had the alien ship jumped? It must have.

But the other two were precisely where he’d expected them to be, making shortest-time courses to support their beleaguered friend. The Intrepid had jumped directly into the predicted path of one of those ships - coming in behind where Thomas expected the ship to be.

It was a little further away than he’d planned - the aliens were capable of some incredible acceleration. But it was still near enough for their arrival wake to strike hard.

It wasn’t accelerating anymore. “Looks like we nailed its engines. Take that thing out!” Thomas ordered.

“Aye, sir,” Edwards replied. He relayed the orders to gunnery stations. The Intrepid shuddered as massive railguns propelled chunks of metal into space. Missiles blazed away toward the alien cruiser. It was an all-or-nothing alpha strike. Every gun firing at once. Thomas nodded with approval. All that gunnery was actually slowing his ship down a little, but his engines were still working fine. They’d pick velocity back up soon enough.

The railgun rounds hit first. Thomas could see the impacts on his holo-tank, the computer obediently displaying each impact and trying to predict the damage done. Without engines to accelerate or steer, the enemy ship was a sitting duck. Every railgun round impacted it dead on target. Bits of shattered hull flew away from the ship as the bullets tore apart armor plating.

Then the missiles struck. They weren’t the smaller missiles the Wasps were carrying. These were massive ship-to-ship weapons, designed to take down capital ships. They punched deep into the armor plating before detonating. The enemy vessel bucked with each explosion. Finally, something inside the ship blew and lit up space in front of the Intrepid like a miniature nova.

Cheers sounded on the bridge, and Thomas allowed himself a small smile. “One bogey down. Well done, people. But let’s not get too full of ourselves. There’s two more of them out there. Lay in a course to engage that third ship before it can take out any more of our fighters.”

“Aye, sir!” Melson said. He set about his console with alacrity and the stars spun in the main screen as the Intrepid came rapidly around to the new heading.

That fight had been the easy part. This next battle was going to be much more of an even matchup. This wasn’t a disabled ship - it was an alien warship at full power. Thomas glanced at the tank again, looking for enemy fighters and finding only a tiny handful, all engaged around the cruiser his Wasps were assaulting. The alien fleet had burned most of their fighter wing in the initial attack on Mars. Now they were going to pay for that.

But Thomas didn’t have a fighter screen left, either. His Wasps were all working over the other cruiser. This fight was just going to be alien energy cannon against human guns and missiles.

The Intrepid shook as the alien’s main beam weapon lanced out at them, digging into the frontal armor. Her railguns sounded again and again, the thrum of each volley vibrating the deck beneath Thom’s feet. The enemy ship had changed course as well. It was on a collision course with his own.

“Looks like they want to play chicken,” Thomas said. “Melson, maintain course. What’s the status on our jump drive?”

“We’re down to ten percent charge, sir,” Melson replied.

Most of the charge for a jump was burned entering jump-space. Once a ship was there, it seemed like maintaining its presence was less costly than getting there. What that meant was that two short jumps used much more energy than a single long one. He wasn’t going to be able to re-enter jump-space for a while.

The Intrepid shook again, alarms blaring. They’d lost hull integrity somewhere in the forward sections of the ship. Damn, but those beam weapons were powerful! Thomas watched the computer attempt to predict the damage down from his own shots. It wasn’t going to be enough to take the enemy down before it closed.

Would they ram him? This enemy had shown itself more than willing to sacrifice ships and lives to beat an enemy. They knew the Intrepid was one of the best defenses Earth had. Thomas felt confident they’d happily trade one of their smaller vessels to take down humanity’s flagship. His job was to make sure they weren’t able to.

“Edwards, stand by on missile launch,” Thomas said.

“Aye, sir,” Edwards replied. Thomas could see the sweat beading on the man’s face, but he didn’t let his stress show in any other way.

The alien ship was close enough that they could see it on their screen, with the magnification dialed up. That was insanely close, in terms of a space battle. They were shooting at each other at nearly point-blank range.

Range that was far too close for the alien anti-missile systems to be of much use.

“Fire!” Thomas said. “Melson, come about to two-hundred eighty, mark one two zero.”

A chorus of affirmative responses was drowned out by the roar of every missile launcher on the Intrepid firing at the same time.

Fifteen

Streams of high-energy particles shot past Sam’s cockpit. The beam missed her, but it was close enough to scorch the wing of her Wasp. Her ship bucked, rocking from even the near-miss.

“Damn! Where did that come from?” Sam said. Her quick scan showed the alien fighter on her tail, along with another half dozen of the small ships. They must have just arrived. Certainly weren’t there just a minute ago! “As if dealing with the cruiser wasn’t enough trouble.”

Sam dipped the nose of her craft and weaved from one side to the other, trying to shake the enemy on her tail. Nothing worked, not even a ten-gravity tight turn! The alien stuck with her no matter what. It fired its beams again, barely missing. How was it managing that? Sam figured her digital nature should have given her an edge in combat. It would have, against any human pilot. What kind of aliens were these things?

They’d never recovered a single body. Some random organic compounds, but nothing like an actual corpse. The scuttlebutt was the aliens were using some sort of tech to disintegrate themselves when they died. Either that or the ships were populated by actual ghosts - and that one Sam didn’t buy.

“Hang on, I’ve got you.” The voice snapped over Sam’s radio. It was Kel - the CAG. “Break hard right when I say.”

“Roger,” Sam replied. She took the Wasp through a series of spins to avoid another shot. “Hurry, please?”

“So impatient,” Kel replied. “Now!”

Sam didn’t reply - she simply twisted the ship onto its side and turned right as hard as she could. The structure of her Wasp groaned under the strain. How many gravities was she pushing? Sam glanced at the readout. Twenty was a lot. The Wasp wasn’t rated to survive that much stress. But if she didn’t push hard enough, the alien fighter would stay too tight, and Kel would lose her shot.

“Hold together just a little longer…” Sam whispered.

An explosion behind her told Sam that Kel had managed her shot. The alien fighter was destroyed! Just in time, too. That was far closer than she ever wanted to be to getting outflown. The whole thing still bothered Sam - how had it managed that? The computer said it had managed to do a fifteen gravity turn. She’d out-turned it, but not by as much as she should have. How?

It was a question for another day. They had bigger fish to fry at the moment.

“CAG, this is Ghost One. Want to help me mop up the last of those fighters before they take any of us out?” Sam asked.

“I’m on your wing now. Let’s do this,” Kel replied.

They both streaked ahead and tore into another enemy fighter that was trying to take out a Wasp, then hunted for a third. There was just one more left. Together they caught it in a pincer that it couldn’t escape. Sam fired the killing shot this time.

“Look - while we’ve been busy, so have the rest of our wings,” Kel said.

Sam glanced over at the alien cruiser. Secondary explosions rocked the ship’s stern. Something was going off in there, melting away the ship’s hull. The area around the engines began glowing cherry red, then drifting away from the vessel as balls of slag.

“Holy shit! Get clear, everyone. I think they’re losing containment on something,” Sam said. “Abort attack! Move it!”

All the Wasps changed course and moved away from the cruiser as rapidly as their engines and physiologies allowed. Again the Ghosts had an advantage there, Sam noted. The human pilots just couldn’t accelerate as fast. Two of them were still too close to the alien ship when it went up.

The explosions started at the still-slowing aft sections. The hull split, a brilliant blast lighting up space. Then the explosion carried itself forward in a series of bangs like firecrackers going off inside a roll of aluminum foil. The cruiser broke into fragments, each propelled outward by the force of the blast.

Only two fighters were lost, which was something of a minor miracle. They’d been engaged at point-blank range so that they had optimal targeting with the nose-mounted railguns. But that had almost cost them all dearly when the ship finally blew.

“Not over yet,” Kel said. “Let’s form up and jet over to the last cruiser. The Intrepid is already firing on her.”

“Last?” Sam checked her scan of local space. Kel was right - there was only one alien ship remaining. The Intrepid must have taken out the second one. As she watched, the two large ships burned toward each other, their drive plumes showing as bright stars tracking across the blackness.

They were on a collision course.

Kel saw it too. She pushed her fighter up to five gravities, hurling herself toward the Intrepid as rapidly as she could go. Sam cruised up alongside and overtook her quickly, though.

“Ma’am, we’re not going to make it there in time to do anything. Not even my Ghosts can get there in time,” Sam said.

“Damned if I’m not going to try,” Kel replied, her voice tight with the strain of so much weight pushing against her.

Sam eyed the acceleration. They were up to seven gravities and climbing. She was impressed - that Kel could even reach this level of stress under manual controls, with a physical body weighing her down, was incredible. But she was going to hurt herself for nothing.

“Ma’am, ease back. Hey, the Admiral is good at what he does, right?” Sam asked, trying another tack.

“Yes,” Kel replied. It sounded like one syllable was all she had breath for.

“Then trust him, ma’am, like he trusted you to do the job out here,” Sam said.

For a moment she wasn’t sure Keladry had heard her or not. Maybe she’d passed out, and was out of control, flying off into the beyond. Sam let her fighter drift a bit to the rear. If she was very, very careful, she might be able to target the engines and take them out without killing the pilot inside. It would take a hell of a shot and a lot of luck, but if the CAG was unconscious it might be the only way to save her.

Then the Wasp’s acceleration dropped away. Sam slowed her own pace to maintain her position near Kel’s wing.

“You put holes in my ship, I’ll have you swabbing decks,” Keladry told her. “I don’t care if you don’t have arms. I’ll download you into a god-damned Roomba!”

Sam laughed. “Glad to hear your voice. You OK?”

“Yes,” Kel said. Her voice was still tight with concern, but she’d dropped back to a more sane three gravities of acceleration. They still weren’t going to get close enough to the Intrepid to do anything more than watch.

Then Sam’s scan picked up multiple launches from the Intrepid. It was firing missiles! Lots and lots of missiles. Sam whistled, then realized she’d left the radio channel open when she heard Kel laughing.

“Yeah, that’s one hell of a lot of firepower coming their way,” Kel said. “Look - the Intrepid is breaking away, too!”

Was it going to be enough, though? That was a lot of missiles, but the aliens were pretty good at taking out incoming rounds. As Sam watched the rockets track the short space between the two ships, she realized the alien guns didn’t have time to lock on and follow the missiles. Only a few seconds after they fired, they struck the nose of the alien ship.

They flashed, one after another, a staccato series of blasts lighting up the night. Then the cruiser blew, the enemy ship sustaining enough damage that it broke apart into a ball of fire.

The Intrepid soared clear of the flames, streaking out of the fireball like a phoenix. Scarred, battered, but still in one piece, humanity’s flagship sent out the signal to all its fighters: return to base.

Sam set a course for home. An incoming call from Keladry surprised her on the way.

“Good flying out there,” Kel said. “And thanks. You were right.”

“About what?” Sam asked.

“About trusting him. Thanks for reminding me.”

“No problem, ma’am,” Sam said.

“Just Kel,” the CAG replied. “My friends call me Kel.”

“You’re welcome, Kel,” Sam said. The pair of women flew back to their home at the head of their combined fighter wings.

Sixteen

The space around Mars was littered with debris from the pair of battles fought there. Nine capital ships and scores of fighters had been destroyed there in the last few hours, not to mention Mars Station itself. Thomas grimaced at that thought. It was the second time he’d seen the station blown up. It wasn’t something that became easier with practice.

A pair of shuttles from the Intrepid had landed on the surface to restore communications. The alien fighters had been incredibly comprehensive in their effort to take down ground-based radar. They’d shot up anything that even looked like a dish or transmitter. There was only one large city on Mars. Or had been. It was mostly rubble, now.

The outlying areas were if anything worse off. Most of the city’s population had managed to get into shelters in time. That wasn’t possible for many of the more distant homesteads. Mars had almost no atmosphere. A round breaching a hab unit was bad news. How many people out there were sitting in spacesuits, desperately trying to repair damaged structures before their bottled air ran out? How many hadn’t made it into suits in time?

Thomas shook his head in frustration and anger. He’d grown up on this planet. This was his home. Was being the operative word, at this point. There was almost nothing left of the place he’d known. The old residence where he’d been a child was nothing but rubble.

His father’s base was intact, however. The place had been built to survive, and it had taken everything the aliens threw at it without blinking. That was something, at least. Hundreds of civilians had made it inside before the hab above it was blasted. With luck, the same thing was true of the other shelters. There were probably thousands of survivors down there, all desperate for help.

“Shuttle One, give me a sitrep as soon as possible,” Thomas said over the radio link.

“Will do, sir. It’s a mess down here, right enough. They’re going to need a lot of help to get back on their feet.”

Probably less than the shuttle pilot thought. He was from Earth, judging by his accent. Thom placed him as South American, although he wasn’t positive. People from Earth didn’t understand the way folks on Mars lived, or what pressures they were able to withstand. Nobody grew up on a mostly airless rock without becoming six kinds of self-sufficient. Given time, Thomas was confident Mars would rebuild.

Assuming they were given time, anyway. Three alien ships taken down. So many more left to go, and it was worse than that. With that gate, they could probably call for backup whenever they wanted.

The Intrepid was badly battered after that last engagement. Deep gouges ran across the frontal armor. Damage control parties had sealed the breaches in the hull, but those spots were still weakened without proper plating to protect them. Could he survive another engagement like that? He wasn’t sure. Beating three to one odds like he had was damned amazing if he said so himself. Finding a way to tackle those dreadnoughts was going to take even more. He wasn’t sure the Intrepid and her crew had it to give.

“Keep trying to reach the other shelters. If any of them have critical issues, we’ll need to see to them first,” Thomas said.

“Roger that, sir,” the shuttle pilot replied. “We’ve got SAR crews out there right now looking. We’ll prioritize the worst hit shelters for aid, but sir - there’s just so much damage down here. You have to see it to believe it.”

“I know. Do your best,” Thomas said.

He wanted to go see it himself. Thomas had a burning need to get down there with his people and dig through the rubble, looking for survivors. He’d grown up with those folks. Some of them were like family. Were they still alive? He had no way of knowing. The death toll from the attack would probably be in the thousands, and they wouldn’t have a full tally for a long time to come.

Mars needed help from Earth more than anything. Relief ships, with food and emergency supplies. Rescue crews to supplement his efforts. Regular ships would take days to reach Mars, but Thomas had a way to bring help much more quickly.

“Melson, get the quickest route trip to Earth set up. We’re jumping home,” Thomas said.

“Aye, sir,” the pilot replied.

“What’s the plan, sir?” Edwards asked.

He was a good XO. Thom was glad to have him. Technically, the Intrepid should probably belong to Edwards, but Thomas had taken the captain’s chair for the duration of the first crisis, then never given it up. With good reason, since the invasion was clearly still ongoing. But it took a big man to be willing to serve as the executive officer on board the ship he’d been planning to command. Thomas was grateful, but wasn’t sure how to demonstrate that without it seeming awkward.

“Go home, load up as much as we can manage in relief supplies and rescue workers, then jump back here as quickly as we can,” Thomas said.

“Sounds good to me, sir. I just hope we have long enough before those aliens hit us again,” Edwards said.

Thomas nodded tiredly. He agreed. They were on a clock, with no idea when the timer would run out. Every second counted. He looked down at his watch. Speaking of counting, it had been twenty-six hours since he’d had any sleep. No sign of a break in the action where he could get some rest, either. More coffee was going to be required. He was bone tired, but he couldn’t stop. Not yet.

Edwards was at his elbow. How had he crossed the bridge so quickly?

“Sir,” Edwards whispered in his ear. “You’re dead on your feet. I can take over here. Get some rest.”

Thomas wanted to protest that he was fine, and opened his mouth to do so. He saw an angry glint in the corner of Edwards’s eye, the first hint of anger he’d seen the man exhibit.

“If you put this ship and her crew at risk for pride, sir, then you’re not half the man I think you are,” Edwards said. “You won the battle. You want to win the war? Get some rest.”

Thomas nodded slowly. He was right. He couldn’t micro-manage everything forever. It wasn’t helpful, wasn’t going to allow him to be at his best when the time came.

“I’ll get some downtime, then. Wake me if the alien fleet so much as budges, though,” Thomas said.

Edwards flashed him a smile. “Will do, sir. Rest well. I’ll rotate the bridge crew to get all of them some rest as well.”

Something he should have thought of. Thomas looked around the room at the crew there, the same men and women who’d fought the alien cruisers with him. They had to be exhausted, too.

“Very well. Make for Earth, load supplies, get them back here,” Thomas said. “I’ll be back in four hours.”

“We’ll keep the boat running smoothly for you, Admiral,” Edwards said.

Thomas grinned at him, a kid with a hand caught in the cookie jar. He’d overstayed and he knew it. Everyone else was supposed to rest except for him? That made no sense at all. If he couldn’t trust his people to run the show, they were already sunk. But one more thing, first. He raised his voice to address the entire bridge crew.

“You all did an exemplary job under brutal combat conditions. Thanks to your efforts, we defeated a numerically superior enemy force completely. Thank you - all of you. Stellar job,” Thomas said.

Then he snapped a nod to Edwards, unstrapped himself from the captain’s seat, and floated back toward the exit and blessed sleep. He had no doubt that he’d be able to fall asleep as soon as he hit his rack. Just the thought of resting was enough to make his eyelids feel heavy.

Lord knew the enemy wasn’t going to give them long before they struck again. Best take advantage of every second of respite they had.

Seventeen

The buzzing of Thomas’s comm link woke him from a sound sleep. He glanced at his watch, then did a double take when he saw the time. Damn the man, he’d said four hours, not six! It was well enough, though. The rest had been good for him. He shook his head to clear the bits of sleep away and tapped the intercom button.

“Admiral Stein here.”

“Sir, we’ve got a situation,” Edwards said.

Had his XO managed to get any sleep? Thomas wanted to ask but held his tongue. The man had been better rested than he when the battle began. He’d arranged for Thom to get some good downtime. Better to let it slide this time.

“Report,” Thomas said.

“It’s the dreadnoughts, sir. They’re on the move,” Edwards replied.

“I’m on my way up,” Thomas said. “Start spinning up the jump drive and bring the ship to alert status. No need for general quarters yet.”

“Aye, sir.”

He yanked his boots on and pulled himself to his room’s hatch. No sign of Kel. Had she managed to get any rest? Knowing her, she’d probably racked out in her fighter. She wasn’t one to miss a chance to close her eyes between fights, but she’d want to be close to her people in case something went wrong.

By the time Thomas hit the bridge, it was already bustling with activity. Edwards rose from the captain’s seat and floated off to the side, offering it to Thom. He pulled himself over to stand next to Edwards instead of sitting.

“What’s going on?” Thomas asked.

“There, sir,” Edwards said, gesturing at the main screen. “The enemy ships moved out about ten hours ago, close as we can figure.”

“Just the dreadnoughts, though?” Thomas asked. The data on the screen was being broadcast to them from Earth’s long-range telescopes. Which meant one hell of a delay. First the light had to come from the gate area to the telescopes, then they had to retransmit that to the Intrepid, which was back orbiting Mars again.

“The other two cruisers are just sitting there,” Edwards said. “Why are they sending forces against us piecemeal, sir?”

“I think they’re testing us. We’ve hurt them badly in a couple of engagements, and they’ve hammered us back. They’re trying to see just what we’ve got to react with. When we sent just one ship to respond to their attack on Mars, the same ship they’d fought before, they must be wondering if that’s all we have to send,” Thomas said.

“Which it is,” Edwards replied.

More or less, Thomas wanted to say. If they could get the special project up and running in time, it might be a nasty surprise for the enemy. But he couldn’t count on it being done, despite assurances it was being finished as quickly as possible. No sense raising hopes of help when it might not be coming.

“But they’re not sure of that. So they’re sending more firepower, to see how we react this time,” Thomas said.

“And how are we going to react?” Edwards asked.

It was a good question. The Intrepid was still scarred from the last battle, and short on fighters as well. The ship was ill-prepared to deal with not one but two of the massive alien warships. One had almost destroyed the Intrepid the last time it encountered one - and that ship had been off balance, just starting up its engines after coming through the wormhole.

They might be able to win against one dreadnought. Two was beyond any reasonable expectation of success.

“Let’s jump out there,” Thomas said. “But we’ll stay well outside their gunnery range. I don’t want to engage them just yet, but I want to get a better feel for what they’re up to. These telescope readings aren’t very high resolution at that range. Let’s jump in a light-minute or so away from where they’re projected to be and get a better look.”

“Those other two ships…” Edwards started to say, a concerned look on his face.

“Yup, they’ll be able to jump in and smack us upside the head. But it’ll take a minute for our light to reach those dreadnoughts, then time for them to signal the others. I give us about two minutes of safety before we have to jump back out,” Thomas said.

The alien ships were making good time. Thom checked their speed and acceleration. No, they were making amazing time! Accelerating at ten gravities, and they had been for the entire trip. This seemed to confirm his guess about the dreadnoughts’ jump capabilities. The bigger the ship, the harder it was to build and power a jump drive for it. Thomas didn’t think the dreadnoughts had jump capability. If they had, they wouldn’t have needed a gate at all.

No, they were stuck coming in the slow way, except it turned out they weren’t that slow. It wasn’t going to take them nearly as long to cross the gap between the ring and the inner solar system as he’d assumed.

“Where are they headed?” Thomas asked. “Mars again?”

“No, sir. They’re on a direct course for Earth.”

That settled it. “All right, let’s go have a look.”

He took his seat and strapped in. Nothing wrong with a little caution. Thomas clutched the sides of his chair again until he took a deep breath and exhaled it. Just relax. There’s no tiger out there.

Yes, there is. It’s headed right at you, his subconscious screamed at him.

“Jump the ship,” Thomas said.

A minute later they were out in deep space, beyond even Pluto’s orbit. That sort of travel was going to take some getting used to! It still made him smile thinking about it. This was the sort of spaceflight he’d dreamed about as a kid while reading science fiction stories.

“All right, give me a scan of those ships with every sensor we’ve got,” Thomas said. “They’ll see our exit splash anyway. Might as well light ‘em up good.”

The delay was only a dozen seconds. Then the main screen lit up with a view of the alien ships. At the same time, the holotank showed the pair of vessels as they were in relation to the Intrepid’s position. It was an out-of-scale representation, but good enough for their purposes at this range.

Thomas noted two more objects shown on the holotank. They trailed behind the dreadnoughts, almost lost in their engine plume. The computer couldn’t seem to decide what they were.

“What are we looking at there?” Thomas asked.

“Not sure. Getting better resolution as we continue to scan,” Melson said.

They were roughly round but made of metal. The Intrepid’s computer kept wanting to classify them as ships, but then it would balk. Thom tapped his console keyboard for more data and quickly saw why. They were following the dreadnoughts’ path precisely. But neither of them was showing an engine plume.

“They’re being towed,” Edwards said, making the connection at the same time Thomas did.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Thomas said softly.

The scans continued to work on the objects. Finally, they had an answer. They were both metallic asteroids. Big ones. Nowhere near as large as the ships tugging them along, they were nonetheless big enough to do significant damage to Earth. Hell, if those rocks were dense enough and moving fast enough by the time they reached the planet, they could potentially wipe out the entire surface.

“Well, that answers the question about what to do next,” Thomas said. “Send Earth everything we have on those objects and get the jump drive ready for another hop. We’ve got no choice, now. We’re going in.”

Eighteen

Ghost Squadron was first into space - again. Sam felt the rush as her Wasp accelerated away from the Intrepid at top speed. She wanted to whoop with joy at the sensation of zipping through space so fast, but it didn’t seem appropriate to the situation. After all, there were two enemy ships just a short distance away. Big ones.

“All right, everyone. You know the drill. We dump these torpedos and then boogie. Keep your throttle to max. We’re burning hot all the way through this run,” Sam said.

They’d launched as soon as the Intrepid came out of jump-space, each Wasp armed with a single massive torpedo. The best guess was that their usual missiles wouldn’t do anything against the dreadnoughts. These heavier weapons might, but they also slowed the fighters down a little and made them a hell of a lot less maneuverable.

“I’ve got movement from the enemy ships,” Grim called out.

“I see it too,” Harald replied. “They’re dumping fighters. Lots of fighters.”

Holy shit, they sure were! Sam couldn’t count all the little red blips filling her radar screen. There was a swarm of the things flying out from both sides of the big ships. How many fighters did they have? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that.

“Stick to the plan. If they get danger close, drop your torpedos and go to guns,” Sam said.

The swarm of fighters swirled free from the dreadnoughts and raced through space toward the Wasps. They were going to be on top of them in seconds, and there was no way they could outfly those enemies with the torpedos attached.

“Deploy weapons!” Sam all but shouted across her radio. She released her own torpedo. Dozens of the things shot across space, building speed as they closed with the alien fighter wing.

The fighters spotted the incoming missiles, but instead of dodging they converged on the weapons. Several fighters veered off toward each torpedo. One of them converged with the weapon in a brilliant explosion that took out torpedo, fighter, and a second nearby fighter in the blast.

“They’re going kamikaze on the missiles!” Grim said. “They’re nuts. That’s crazy!”

Maybe crazy, and not something most humans would do. But it was working. The fighters were acting as literal point defense for their motherships, diving into one torpedo after another. Each blast took out more than one enemy fighter, since they were packed so tightly together. But none of the projectiles were getting through.

“Shit. Intrepid, we need a new plan,” Sam said.

“We see the situation. Stand by, Intrepid is engaging,” Admiral Stein replied.

Sam’s screen lit up as more missiles fired from the Intrepid. They accelerated far faster than her Wasp, overtaking her ship and passing by it. But the enemy fighters just swarmed those and took them down the same way. Small dots of explosions appeared on the dreadnoughts’ hulls where railgun rounds hit, but it was nowhere near enough damage.

Then Sam’s fighter was in the middle of the mass of alien craft. She fought to find a clear path through the mess, dodging beam weapons and fighters alike. Beside her, a Ghost blew up. She wasn’t sure what had taken it down, but there was enough out there to smack into that it could have been anything. Another Wasp was destroyed, and another. Then they were past the mess, pulling out ahead of the dreadnoughts.

“Stay on your present course,” Stein ordered. “Intrepid will jump ahead to your position and pick you up.”

“Understood, sir. Sorry,” Sam said bitterly. They’d failed completely. The enemy had barely been scratched. Sure, they’d lost a lot of their fighters, but the big ships were barely hit at all, and those two asteroids were still being yanked along behind them.

“No worries, Ghost One. We’ll find another way,” Stein replied. “Intrepid out.”

Thomas wanted to slam his fist down on the console in front of him. It should have worked! Those missiles should have been enough to blow the hell out of the dreadnoughts. Coming in from behind, at the least they would have disabled or destroyed the ship’s engines, making them incapable of further acceleration. That would reduce the threat of their kinetic strike, which relied on them building up a lot more velocity on the way to Earth.

But he hadn’t reckoned with the aliens’ lack of concern over loss of life. They’d thrown away dozens of fighters to stop all those missiles. About half the alien fighter wing was blasted to bits in the engagement. But it wasn’t enough, not nearly.

Why were they like that? The lack of concern over individual lives was strange, and it was becoming more apparent every fight that it was a consistent trait. It reminded him a bit of honeybees. Bees would swarm out of a hive if it was attacked, the worker bees stinging their attackers even though they died in the process. Even if a hundred bees died defending the colony, it was fine so long as the hive itself survived.

The hive - and the queen. Was there some sort of queen alien inside those ships, giving direction to the others? Thomas didn’t want to equate them too closely with an Earth creature. They were alien; he could be misreading them badly by attributing bee-like qualities to them when they were their own unique species.

But it was still a possibility worth considering. If there was a central command of some sort on board those dreadnoughts, taking it out might be the answer they needed.

“Jump the ship ahead to pick up our people,” Thom said.

“Aye, sir,” Melson replied.

“Then we’re going back to Earth. Those ships are still days away. We’ve got time. I want to have the Intrepid up at full fighting strength before we go back in there,” Thomas said.

He also wanted to check in on the secret project: a second jump-capable ship. That might give them precisely the edge they needed to beat these things if it could be brought out in time to enter the engagement.

“I’ll be in the conference room. Edwards, you’ve got the bridge,” Thomas said. He pushed off from his chair, already composing the message he was going to send. Damn caution. He needed to get more assets in the field yesterday. If today’s battle had shown him anything, it was that what they had wasn’t enough to deal with those dreadnoughts.

Once he was seated in the conference room, Thomas tapped out a quick email to the person running the development of that other ship. Captain Knauf needed to get the lead out and finish up. They needed him out there - yesterday.

Nineteen

If he had a body, he’d have been sweating after reading the letter from Admiral Stein. It wasn’t blistering in tone, but it managed to blister his virtual ass anyway. Captain Max Knauf spoke over every loudspeaker on the ship that was his new body. His voice echoed through the halls, and every worker heard him.

“Listen up, folks. There’s a big bad coming our way. Earth is going to be a floating chunk of burnt toast if we can’t get into this fight. I need the Andromeda launch ready,” he said. “I know you’re all tired. This is the final push. It’s go time.”

He was ensconced in the ship’s computer systems already, so Max could feel every inch of the vessel. Every camera was one of his eyes. The thrusters and main engines were his limbs. But the damned jump drive was giving them kittens.

Earth didn’t have enough of the exotic matter required to build a second Alcubierre drive. Didn’t, at least, until they’d blown up the first alien ring. It turned out the rings used a heaping pile of the stuff, more than enough to get a second jump ship running.

But the aliens’ exotic matter wasn’t precisely the same as the stuff humanity had been using. He didn’t have the math to understand the difference, Knauf was told. Which would have made sense, if he wasn’t a digital mind capable of doing equations literally in his sleep.

Understanding the nature of the problem didn’t make it easier to solve, though. Altering the exotic matter to match human drive specifications would take far more time than they had, which left modifying the human jump-drive to use the alien exotic matter.

It was not a match made in heaven. The three test drives, shot out on missiles, had exploded on arrival. Since Knauf wasn’t interested in exploding on arrival, he had every processor he could spare working the problem alongside the engineers on board.

“Admiral Stein is counting on us, people. We can’t let him down,” Knauf said.

This was the last test probe they had. If the newest drive configuration didn’t work, they were going to need to ship up another batch from Earth. It ought to function as desired! But then he’d thought that about the last three attempts. Each one had failed, and Max still wasn’t entirely sure why. For all their attempted explanations, he was pretty sure the engineers working on the problem were baffled, too.

“Ten seconds until launch,” Amy called out to him. She was the lead engineer for this crew. Hell, for every crew, now that they were all merged and working just about around the clock finishing the ship. She was a good person, and Max would miss her once she was done fixing him up. She’d go back ground-side, and he’d go - out there, to face whatever was coming their way.

“Here we go,” Max said.

The probe fired from one of his missile bays. The Andromeda wasn’t a big ship, and it didn’t carry any fighters. But what it lacked in those ways it made up for with missiles. Lots and lots of missiles. The entire crew space had been converted over to armor, missile tubes, and magazine. He was going to have an insane amount of firepower at his disposal, and his armor should be thick enough to sustain direct hits from the alien particle beams.

If this worked, and he could get out there in battle.

The probe shot away, its own drive picking up where the launcher left off and propelling it far away from the ship and Earth. A few of the tests had been extremely explosive. Nobody wanted to do another trial too near their home planet. Just in case.

Once the probe was a safe distance, Max sent the signal to trigger its Alcubierre drive. It flashed and was gone.

“Damn, did it blow again?” Max asked.

“Yes? Maybe? Wait a sec,” Amy said. She was looking at data on her tablet. “No! Look!”

There was another burst of light, this one even farther away. The probe popped back into real-space. It was the most beautiful thing Max had seen in a long time.

“We did it!” he said.

“We did,” she replied, smiling at one of his cameras.

Max liked that about her. A lot of the engineers would speak without looking at anything in particular. Amy always treated the camera like it was his face. He had cameras installed all over the ship, so it wasn’t hard to find one. Amy always made the effort.

“Now for the tough part,” Max said. He activated the PA system again. “All crew please disembark. Final test will commence in ten minutes.”

That should give them all enough time to get off in the shuttles. The final test was, of course, to see if the ship would handle the jump as well as the drone had. It ought to. The drive parameters they’d set up for the Andromeda matched those in the probe. But if Max had learned anything from the weeks of effort making this project work, it was that when it came to a jump drive ‘ought to’ was insufficient.

Humanity didn’t really understand the tech it was messing with. The underlying principles of the warp drive had been understood for decades. Actually building one was completely beyond human capabilities, at least until the aliens had shown humans the way. Now he was stuck trying to reverse engineer the whole thing when he didn’t completely understand how it worked in the first place.

Max noticed Amy hadn’t moved from her post. “You should probably get going with the others. Don’t want to miss your shuttle.”

“No, I’m sticking around,” Amy replied.

“What? Why? You shouldn’t be here for this,” he exclaimed. He had to stay, of course. Someone had to fly the ship and respond to any emergencies that cropped up. There was no way to remotely pilot a ship through jump-space, or at least not one he’d discovered yet. Max had to risk himself in this test. But Amy didn’t need to be there.

“I’ve got faith this is going to work, Max. All the tests say we’re green. The drone worked. It’s time,” she said. “Besides, if something goes wrong, you might need me. Who else is going to turn a wrench for you if you need it?”

“I’ve got a ship full of repair bots for that,” Max said.

“But none of them are as charming as me,” Amy replied, beaming at him.

She had him there. “No, they are not. All right, if you’re sure?”

Amy nodded.

“Fine. Let’s start the countdown,” Max said.

There were still a few minutes left. He could still call this off. Do more tests. Launch more probes. But there wasn’t time. Admiral Stein said he was needed right away. The Intrepid had arrived back at Earth, battered and chewed up. It was going right back out again. Their people weren’t going to get time off. They didn’t get to chicken out. Neither would he.

“Here we go. Hang on…!” Max said.

He gently increased the flow of power into the jump drive, igniting his main thrusters at the same time. The ship slipped forward, slowly at first, but then the lights hanging in space in front of him seemed to stretch, and then vanish entirely.

“Oh shit, we’ve done it,” Max said.

“We really did,” Amy replied.

The Andromeda popped back out of jump-space with a small burst of agitated particles. They hadn’t gone far, so they hadn’t picked up too many. But looking back in rear cameras, Earth was a lot farther away than it had been.

“Time to call Admiral Stein and give him the good news,” Max said. And time for him to get back into battle again. The idea was thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

Twenty

It took three days to get the Intrepid back up to full strength. During that time the dreadnoughts had continued their inexorable approach toward Earth. They were close now, so close that Thomas imagined he could see their drive plumes out there among the glittering stars. That wasn’t possible, and he knew it - they were still much too far away for that. But the sense of foreboding in his heart made it seem that way.

“Andromeda ready to break orbit?” Thomas asked over the radio.

“The last personnel have debarked, Admiral,” Captain Knauf replied. “I’m ready to go.”

Saying that the Andromeda was an unusual vessel was an understatement. Instead of a crew, the ship had one mind controlling it: the digital brain of Max Knauf. Like the Wasp pilots, his mind had been downloaded into the computers on board the Andromeda. But where the Wasps were small fighters, Knauf’s new ship was so much more.

It had been a light cruiser once, with a crew of two dozen. No longer. The crew areas had been removed, replaced with enough missile tubes and ammunition to make big holes in whatever the ship met. More important, the drive was enhanced with jump capabilities that Knauf swore were finally working. They’d better be; Earth’s only chance was to meet the enemy far away from home. If they got close enough it wouldn’t matter if their defenses took out the dreadnoughts; the rocks they were hauling would still hit Earth with all the acceleration they’d been building up.

“All right. Synchronize our jumps. We want to arrive at precisely the right time to deal maximum damage,” Thomas said. “Melson, synch with the Andromeda.”

“Already done, sir. We’re ready to roll.”

Everything was prepared. Why then were his hands sweating so badly? It wasn’t the first time the future of humanity had been in his hands. Thomas had dealt with this sort of stress before. He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, trying to vent a little of his tension in the simple movement. It wasn’t helping much.

No, nothing he’d done had ever prepared Thomas for this sort of action. These battles were all do or die. There was little room for error or failure. The first attack hadn’t worked. There might not be time for a third, if they took damage during this strike. It had to work.

“Jump,” Thomas said.

The screen flashed as the ships entered jump-space. A timer on the screen indicated how long until they exited jump-space. It was ticking away seconds. Less than a minute for the entire transit. The moments seemed to stretch out, each one lasting a little longer than the first. Thomas glanced around the room, taking in each crew member at their stations. We can do this, he told himself. We can win this.

Then they were out of jump-space, exploding back into the real world just above the dreadnoughts. The massive ships had light screens which blocked most of the damage from the jump-charged particles, something Thomas would have killed for. It was going to be up to their missiles and gunnery to win this fight.

He’d chosen to come out at point-blank range. The enemy had obligingly maintained a steady course since the first engagement. It was like they were daring him to come after them. Well, if it was a fight they were looking for - he was ready to give them one.

“Fire!” Thomas shouted.

Guns opened up, a steady thrumming he could feel through the deck as the battery of massive cannons struck out again and again. Thomas watched the holotank screen begin displaying data from local space. The enemy ships were only about a hundred kilometers away. Better still, their noses were pointed in the wrong direction to fire their powerful fore-mounted guns.

From both sides of the Intrepid small dots appeared on the hologram - missiles streaking from every missile bay the ship had.

There was the Andromeda as well, just below the Intrepid. Thomas hoped that by positioning it that way it might escape notice right away, or at least be perceived as less of a threat. That definitely wasn’t the case, but Knauf was to wait ten seconds before opening fire. By that time the Intrepid should have their enemies’ full attention.

“Andromeda is engaging, sir,” Edwards said. Thomas glanced at his watch. Precisely on time. Good man.

The Andromeda shot out from beneath the Intrepid, rocketing toward the nearest dreadnought at a pace Thomas’ ship couldn’t possibly match. Ten gravities would knock out most of his crew, but Knauf could handle it with ease, just like the Ghost Squadron. Which reminded him…

They were launching as well. Slowly at first, because the missile batteries were near enough to the fighter launch bays that they had to be cautious not to shoot their own fighters down. But in a few moments, they’d be joining the fray. Just in time. The enemy was launching their own fighters. If the Ghosts and Kel’s Phoenix Squadron could keep the alien fighters off their capital ships, they might just pull this off.

Max soared toward the dreadnought, firing as he went. They’d apparently figured out he was a more significant threat than he looked. More than half the fighters launched were vectoring toward him. But he was no ordinary cruiser. Max couldn’t match the alien fighters in maneuverability, but he was their equal in acceleration. They were able to fire on him once as they flashed past, but then he was gone and they were going to have a hell of a time catching up.

“Point-blank range is about to take on a whole new meaning,” Knauf said, bringing the Andromeda in low along the dreadnought’s upper deck.

The enemy ship was only a few hundred meters away. In terms of space battles, this was crazy. They were usually stand-off affairs that took place from thousands or even tens of thousands of kilometers away. Fighting at this range with missiles meant Max had to disengage all the safeties from his shots. They were primed to go off as soon as they hit something after leaving their tubes. At this range, they’d take the Andromeda out right along with the enemy.

If he was still there. Flying as fast as he was, Max was only over the target zone for a fraction of a second. It was just long enough for his computer mind to initiate the firing of every missile tube he had. Four dozen heavy warheads flashed across the quarter-kilometer to their assigned target. By the time they were halfway through their course, Max was already past the enemy ship and beginning to turn around. Before they impacted he’d already locked the launchers in for a second volley as soon as they loaded.

The missiles went off against the dreadnought in a series of massive bursts. Hull plating shattered and liquified. The ship shuddered as missile after missile slammed home. There were no misses. The anti-missile defenses were useless at that range. Every shot Max fired hit precisely where he was aiming.

The dreadnought heeled over on its side, the port engines malfunctioning and throwing it off course. He could imagine the strain on the ship’s spine. A vessel that long, changing vector that fast? The stress was enormous. Max targeted the center of the ship and launched his second volley. The Intrepid spat fire as well, missiles and guns spitting fire at the same spot.

Coupled with the sheering force, the combined assault was too much for the alien ship’s superstructure to bear. The tear began slowly, starting from a hole where a pair of missiles had impacted together.

But once it was started it grew quickly, shattering hull plates and spreading like a fast-moving virus. The ship tore itself in two at the middle. Secondary explosions lit the night briefly, and then the enemy ship’s power went out completely.

“One down, sir,” Max signaled to Admiral Stein. “Now let’s nail the other one.”

Twenty-One

There was a pace, almost a pattern to how the alien fighters moved. Sam couldn’t pick it out in enough detail to explain it, but she could feel it. Like the beat of a drum, their moves felt choreographed. A dance through space. But it was a dance she could predict. When that one went this way, it meant the other would be right there… She fired a burst from her railgun, the rounds stabbing into the ship as it swung directly through her crosshairs. The iron pellets shattered its frame. It trailed fire for a few seconds and then broke apart.

“We’ve got them on the run!” Kel said. “Keep it up.”

Sam chuckled to herself. The fighters weren’t on the run, not really. The alien swarm still outnumbered their fighters by better than two to one, and the human pilots weren’t doing as well as the Ghosts. Sam watched an alien ship do a ten gravity flip and burn to come in behind a human pilot. He saw the danger - Sam watched him try to react, but he wasn’t quick enough and she was too far away to help. He exploded a moment later as the alien’s particle beam cut his Wasp in half.

Her rounds found their home in the killer’s ship just seconds later, but revenge was scant comfort for the man who’d just died. Sam didn’t even know his name - the physical and digital pilots hadn’t mixed as much as she might have liked.

All around her that pattern was being repeated. The aliens could maneuver into tighter turns and accelerate much faster than the humans. Her Ghosts could match them turn for turn and boost for boost, but the humans were limited by their physiology. It was maddening to be so helpless to save them. It was like the aliens had identified there were two types of opponents in the Wasps and were deliberately targeting the more vulnerable ones. But maybe she could turn that around on them.

“CAG, this is Ghost One. I’ve got an idea,” Sam said.

“Go Ghost One.” Kel’s voice sounded tight and strained. She had to be seeing the same thing Sam was. Watching her people die one after another couldn’t have been easy.

Sam picked her ship out of the furball. She had a pair of enemies on her tail. Kel was doing a spiral to avoid their fire, but that wasn’t going to last forever. Where the hell was her wingman? Sam checked her scope - he was already gone. She grimaced and turned her Wasp over into a dive, chasing the alien ships.

“CAG, roll right,” Sam said.

Keladry didn’t respond via radio, but she turned her ship hard over to the right immediately. That gave Sam the opening she needed. Her rounds blasted one of the enemy fighters to bits. The other one veered off, evading her shots. At least Kel was safe for the moment.

“Thanks! What was that idea?” Kel said, laughing.

Sam took the laughter in stride. Sometimes, in the middle of battle, she’d found you just had to laugh that you were still alive when you hadn’t thought you would be. For joy, for life, for whatever strange barrel of emotions crossed your mind in those moments - sometimes laughter was the only response a person could make.

“They’re targeting Phoenix Squadron,” Sam said.

“Tell me something I don’t know, like how to save my people,” Kel replied.

“Partner us with your remaining pilots. Two Ghosts to one Phoenix.”

“You want to use my pilots as bait,” Kel said, her tone flat. It wasn’t a question.

“I think it’s the best…”

“No, I agree. Do it,” Kel said. “I don’t have to like it to agree with you.”

Sam sent the orders. It was telling that there were now twice as many Ghosts fighting as there were physical human pilots. The difference was impossible to miss. Two Ghosts hopped on overwatch for each Phoenix pilot. Sam told them not to be crazy obvious about it, but to pick off bad guys as soon as they fell in behind a Phoenix pilot.

She spotted Harald and Grim waste a fighter just as it was lining up a shot. Another Ghost wiped out a pair of fighters that was trying to shoot down her human partner. Sam spotted an alien ship dive in behind Kel, and once again she struck with her railgun, blasting it to shreds.

It was working. The aliens were starting to become wise to the idea that their pattern had been spotted. But that just meant they stopped over targeting the humans, which gave Phoenix Squadron more openings to go on the offensive. The tide was turning. They’d cut the enemy squadrons in half!

“Holy shit!” Grim said.

Sam was about to get on him about radio protocols when she saw what he had. The remaining dreadnought was on fire. It wasn’t out of the fight yet, but it was hurting. The Intrepid was on its ass, pumping railgun rounds into its engines. The Andromeda was off its bow. As Sam watched, Max’s ship took a massive burst from the alien main gun. Armor melted off the front of his ship and spooled out into space. He twisted the ship, trying to get away from the beam, but it tracked him through the turn.

Max was in trouble. He might not be her CO anymore, but he’d saved Sam’s ass more than once before. Besides, it was thanks to him that she’d been given a way to get free of Valhalla Online. This life might be dangerous as hell, but at least she was alive again! She owed him for all of that. It was time to return the favor.

“Grim, I need you to babysit the CAG for me,” Sam said. She pushed her throttle to the redline, driving her fighter directly toward the dreadnought.

“Being brave, or stupid? Grim asked her.

“Is there a difference?” Sam replied, laughing.

“I’ve got the CAG,” Grim said. “Good luck.”

Sam saw someone flash by her cockpit on the port side. It was another Wasp. Her HUD told her who it was a moment later - Harald.

“And I’ve got you,” Harald said. “Mind if I tag along?”

“Never,” Sam replied. “Just like old times, huh?”

“Oh, ye gods, I dearly hope not,” Harald replied with a chuckle. “What are we doing?”

The dreadnought was looming larger by the second. Sam and Harald’s fighters were racing in from the rear. That damned main gun was still pummeling Max’s ship. No matter how he turned, the dreadnought tracked him. It looked like the Intrepid was trying to distract it, without success. It was dead-set on killing the Andromeda.

“Oh, nevermind. I see the target,” Harald said.

“Got any missiles left?” Sam asked.

“Just one.”

“Same here. Let’s make them count.”

The pair of fighters swept in low over the dreadnought’s hull, so close that Sam felt like she could almost reach out and touch the battered hull plates. Another second and they were out over the nose. She flipped her Wasp hard over, accelerating at ten gravities to slow herself back down and line up the shot.

There it was - the primary weapon of the massive enemy vessel, the particle beam cannon sprouting from its nose. It was a hard target, well armored, almost impossible to take down. But she and Harald were only a few hundred meters away, and for a split second she had a perfect shot lined up.

“Got you!” Sam shouted as she launched her missile. She spotted the streak of Harald’s rocket joining hers. The missiles stabbed into the heart of the weapon just as it was firing another shot on the Andromeda. It detonated with a blast that shredded the entire nose of the ship. Bolts of energy arced over the hull, moving backward along the length of the vessel.

“I’m not liking the look of that, Sam,” Harald said.

“No kidding. Time to go!” she said. Snapping her fighter around again, she pushed the engine to max acceleration again - this time away from the enemy ship as fast as her Wasp could manage!

Behind her, the dreadnought was in trouble. The energy arcs had only increased in intensity. Some sort of overload going on. It looked bad, whatever it was. Sam imagined how much raw power it took to fire a beam weapon like that. The reason none of the human ships had anything like it was that they could not generate enough power to make it worthwhile. A human particle beam weapon would be like a pop-gun compared to that thing.

But that energy was released now, arcing freely over the ship. It had nowhere to go, so it poured into computer systems, down deck plates, across the engines, through conduits.

Then it hit something vital - or a series of things that added up to a mortal blow. The dreadnought exploded in a brilliant burst of light.

“Nailed her!” Sam whooped.

“Nice shooting, you two,” Max called out over the radio. “Thanks for the assist!”

“Anything for a friend,” Harald said.

Then Kel’s voice snapped across the radio like a whip. “Good job. If you’re done congratulating each other, we’ve got a situation back here by the Intrepid. We need help.”

Sam glanced at her scan. There were still a couple dozen enemy fighters left. They’d broken away from the fight. At first she thought they were trying to retreat. That didn’t make any sense, though. The Ghosts could keep pace with them, and the bigger ships could just jump right in their path.

Then she realized they weren’t fleeing. The entire swarm of fighters was turning themselves into piloted missiles. All two dozen alien fighters were headed straight at the Intrepid. The rest of Ghost and Phoenix Squadrons were taken by surprise by the sudden move. They were chasing but had fallen behind. And there was no way she and Harald could get there in time to help.

Twenty-Two

“Evasive maneuvers!” Thomas called.

He grabbed hold of his chair arms, an instinct even if his harness would hold him firmly in place. The courses plotted on his holotank were damning, though. There wasn’t a course that could get them clear in time. They might evade a few of the fighters. The Intrepid was already pushing three gravities and still accelerating. It wasn’t going to save his ship.

Too many alien ships, too close, moving too fast. It was a trifecta of doom. They were going to punch into the side of the Intrepid like missiles, the kinetic energy released when they hit enough to shatter the ship. They weren’t firing weapons. They didn’t have to.

“Edwards, engage them with every anti-missile battery we’ve got,” Thomas ordered.

“Already on it, sir.”

The missile tubes were already preparing to fire rockets. Smaller but faster, they were more likely to take down a fighter. It was going to take time to load the tubes, though, precious minutes they didn’t have. They’d been firing heavy torpedoes at the dreadnought, which were all but useless against fighters.

How had things gone so wrong, so fast? Thomas knew where he’d made his mistake. He’d moved in close to the dreadnought’s rear while it was occupied with the Andromeda. The aft section was relatively undefended. He’d been able to pummel the ship. But that had brought him in too close to the fighters. While they’d been occupied fighting his Wasps, that was fine.

But he knew damned well they were willing to sacrifice fighters to take down enemy ships. They’d done it more than once before. As soon as their mothership was destroyed - by a hell of a lucky shot, from what he could tell - they all turned like a single mind was driving them and made a beeline for the Intrepid.

His people were doing everything they could. It wasn’t going to be enough. Not even close.

Gurgle watched the battle from inside the Intrepid’s computer systems. Nominally, his job was to help coordinate repair bots on the ship. But mostly repairs were done by human beings on the Intrepid. There were only a handful of maintenance droids to monitor and send flitting about. Prioritizing damage control was fun, and useful, but Gurgle had a lot of processing power available that wasn’t being used. That left him able to monitor the situation outside.

Which had gone from dangerous to deadly. Gurgle ran calculations to estimate the damage the Intrepid would take. Even assuming the ship’s gunnery was incredibly lucky, they were going to take a dozen hits. It was doubtful that the ship would survive that many impacts.

He was going to be destroyed. So was Admiral Stein, and all the other people he’d been tasked to help protect. While Gurgle’s main priority was helping Sam, he’d have a hard time doing that if he was destroyed, too. Keeping the Intrepid in one piece was therefore in Sam’s best interest as well. Even if he had to take extreme measures to manage it.

Gurgle slipped back into the Intrepid’s mainframe, using the back door he’d facilitated while he’d briefly had control of the ship. The pilot and gunner were excellent at their jobs. The computer they were using was nowhere near sufficient, though. Gurgle checked its calculations. They were based on imprecise algorithms and therefore would produce sub-optimal results. Gurgle could fix the issue, but only by retaking direct control of the Intrepid - and this time there was no way he could ask for permission. The seconds that Admiral Stein would spend making the decision would cost too much.

He hesitated for a small fraction of a second. If he did this, he’d be playing his hand. Admiral Stein would figure out who had taken over his ship. He’d probably find a way to block Gurgle from doing it again. Humans were like that. They didn’t enjoy seeing their toys played with. Definitely not like this. But there weren’t any better options available.

Gurgle slipped into the command systems of the Intrepid and engaged a new defensive protocol.

“What the hell? I’ve lost helm control!” Melson shouted.

The Intrepid’s hull groaned as the ship twisted about its axis. Acceleration slammed Thomas back against his seat, then slammed him sideways. The ship had turned, and now it was spinning about its axis. Was this some sort of alien attack? Had they taken control of the Intrepid?

“I’ve lost control of the defensive grid,” Edwards said. “I can’t fire anything.”

“Damn it, get me engineering,” Thomas said. But it was too late, way too late. Without the anti-missile guns, their last hope of taking down enough of the incoming fighters was gone. They were done for.

Except the guns were firing! Thomas watched the image of the battle projected in front of him. Shots licked out from the anti-missile guns, striking at the enemy ships with uncanny accuracy. He’d never seen the system working so well before. The missile tubes launched, rockets firing into the teeth of the enemy ships. The Intrepid was rolling, spinning around her central axis, bringing fresh sets of guns and missile launchers into direct alignment with the fighters as she turned.

One after another the enemy ships winked out, vanishing from his screen. The bridge was silent. They were all powerless to do anything except watch, and no one said a word. This was beyond them.

The acceleration was intense. The spin combined with fast forward motion was starting to make Thomas’ vision gray out around the edges. He held on to consciousness, grinding his teeth together to cling to it. Even though there was nothing he could do to impact this fight, he was determined to see it through to the end.

Four fighters left. Then a missile took one out, leaving three. A gun shattered one. Just one fighter left. The Intrepid spun, bringing another anti-missile weapon into alignment.

It fired.

The stream of rounds smacked into the enemy fighter, tearing off a wing. That sent it into a spin of its own, but it was still on course. They were going to be hit.

“Brace for impact!” Thomas said, forcing each word out painfully. The weight on his chest and pain in his head from the acceleration made it hard to speak.

The impact was enough to lift him from his seat and smack him firmly back down again. Alarms blared in his helmet. He saw air spinning around the bridge and realized that had to be frozen moisture. They’d been holed. The ship was losing air, and the hit had been near enough to the bridge that the room was decompressing.

Thomas looked around. All his people had helmets on. Aside from whatever damage the impact itself did, his crew ought to all be safely in suits. The spin stopped, and acceleration came back down to a single gravity of forward thrust. He leaned forward in his seat, letting the harness hold him up. His back and chest hurt like hell. Thomas ran a hand over his shoulders. There were going to be bruises there from the harness, to be sure. But without it he wasn’t sure he would have survived.

He had, though. The ship was intact, and…Thomas had a feeling he knew who he had to thank for that.

“I have helm control again,” Melson said, his voice shaking.

“Good. Steady as she goes. Let’s get a damage report. And bring our fighters home, if we can,” Thomas said.

“Bays one and two are gone, but we’ve lost enough fighters that we can land all the remaining ones in the other two bays,” Edwards said. His voice was grim.

“Damn, that bad?” Thomas asked.

“It was nasty out there, sir,” Edwards replied.

What about Kel? Thomas tapped his console, hating that he had to worry about her at all. But she was still alive, still in one piece, guiding the rest of her people home again. Thank god.

He tapped the console again, opening a private communication link. Thomas had a feeling he was going to want to keep this next conversation between the two of them.

“Yes, Admiral Stein?” Gurgle said.

“Gurgle. I have a feeling we have you to thank for that amazing display of gunnery and targeting,” Thomas said.

“How would Gurgle do that?”

“That’s an excellent question, and one I’d like you to answer for me - later. For now,” Thomas said, taking a long breath. It had been a hell of a day, and he didn’t have the heart to berate the strange being who had just saved his ship and the lives of everyone on board. “For now, I just wanted to say thank you.”

There was a long pause. “Gurgle say Admiral welcome. Gurgle like helping friends.”

“And I am damned glad you do, Gurgle,” Thomas replied.

Twenty-Three

Thomas stared at the screen, unable to believe their luck. One of the dreadnoughts hung there in space, burning slowly. The other was gone, smashed into fragments. He ordered a few torpedoes fired at the asteroids to deflect them from their path. They were still almost a light-hour from Earth. Even the small alteration in course that impact gave was enough to send them floating harmlessly elsewhere.

The planet was saved.

“Contact Earth. Tell them the good news,” Thomas said.

“Actually, sir - we’re getting a broadcast from them now,” Edwards said.

“Put it on-screen,” Thomas said. What could they be sending to him? Earth was an hour away. His heart jumped, wondering if the planet had been hit by alien jump-capable ships while he was away.

The enemy only had two of those ships left in the system - so far as he knew. They could have brought in more via the gate, but Earth had a sizable defensive fleet in orbit. It ought to be able to handle any smaller alien force.

The face that came on the screen was as familiar as his own. It was his father, Nicholas Stein - president of the United Nations for the past two terms of office. Thomas was glad to see his father, but worried at how tired and worn he looked. Carrying the cares of the entire world on his shoulders hadn’t been easy for him, especially in these dangerous times.

“Admiral Stein,” his father began. Always the proper one, for full titles and courtesy even with family. “As you receive this, you’re likely already engaged with the enemy. I hope you have proved victorious.”

“Damn right we did,” Melson said with a grin that vanished as Thomas shot him a glare. The young pilot ducked his head between his shoulders and made a zipping motion in front of his mouth.

Thom shook his head, more amused than angry. Had he ever been that young and reckless? He rather thought so, recalling some of his earlier adventures. How the hell had he survived all that?

“Regardless of the state of your mission, however, you’re ordered to return immediately to Earth,” his father went on. “If you’re engaged, break away. If you’ve won, we need you back here. If you’ve lost, I…”

The old man’s face crumpled, and for a moment Thomas stood there aghast at his father’s image, wondering if the man was going to shed actual tears. Then it passed, and Nicholas Stein stood up straight again, staring into the camera.

“The enemy gate is active again. They’re bringing in more ships. It’s the decision of the UN council that we pull all resources back to Earth orbit to defend our home planet,” the president said. “That includes any and all ships under your command.”

The message ended, and the screen went blank. Around the bridge, everyone stared at Thomas to see what he would do.

They ought to continue the campaign. If the enemy was bringing in more ships through the gate, then time was the enemy here. The longer they waited to strike the gate, the more ships they would have to face. It made no sense to retreat.

But he had his orders - and maybe there was a good reason for them. Thomas warred against himself for a few moments. That younger version of himself that he’d just been recalling would have ignored the orders and jumped into battle. But the older admiral was not as willing to disobey direct orders. His father had led them through times as deadly as these.

“Make a jump for Earth. Send the coordinates to Knauf so we can jump together,” Thomas said. “It seems I need to discuss strategy with my father.”

It was half an hour after their arrival before Thomas could get an open line to the UN president. He gnashed his teeth while he waited. When the call finally came, he had Edwards put it through to his ready room and stalked off the bridge to take it. By the time his father’s face appeared on the screen in front of him, Thomas was beyond pissed.

“Dad, this is nuts. Why am I back here instead of out there?”

Nicholas Stein blinked, gave him a half-smile, and replied. “Good to see you in one piece, Thom.”

“Thanks. Glad to be in one piece. Now answer my damned question.”

The older Stein sighed and looked away. Thomas had never seen him looking so old. When had that happened? His father had been a bigger-than-life figure in every memory he had. He was always sure of every decision, always able to make the tough calls well.

This man was different. He wasn’t just tired. Nicholas Stein had a look in his eyes that Thomas had never seen there before. His father looked defeated.

“Dad, talk to me. What’s happened?” Thomas asked.

“The council happened. The Earth-bound idiot politicians happened,” his father spat. “They’ve created a new coalition. Liberal and conservative branches alike, working together.”

I blinked. “How did that happen?” I couldn’t imagine stranger political bedfellows.

“I’m not sure. It feels like there’s someone moving pieces around behind the scenes, but I can’t prove it,” Nicholas said. “And without proof, I can’t do anything to override their decision.”

“What, precisely, do they want?” Thomas asked.

“They’re afraid of the aliens. They’ve seen footage of what happened to Mars. They don’t want the same fate for Earth,” his father said. “And they figure the best way to keep their worthless asses safe is to have every ship in humanity’s fleet hovering over their heads.”

It made no sense. The enemy wasn’t getting weaker while we waited. Their force was only growing. I’d seen the reports. Two more small ships and a dreadnought had already come through, and the gate gave every indication of building power for another activation. Given enough time they’d rebuild their forces.

Next time, though, Thomas doubted that they’d rush in. They’d already tested the human defenses more than once. They knew about everything humanity could throw at them. There were no more secret ships or weapons he could pull out of a hat. The aliens likely knew that, too, or at least guessed it. No, they’d wait until they had enough firepower to completely overpower humanity, and then strike.

By the time these politicians realized they’d made a mistake, they could be facing a score of dreadnoughts instead of one.

“Dad, this is going to kill us all. This is a suicidal plan,” Thomas said.

“I know,” Nicholas replied. “There’s nothing else I can do. The orders will stand.”

Thomas thought about what his father had said about a force moving behind the scenes. That had a familiar ring to it. “We never found Choi’s fighter, you know.”

“I am well aware. We’ve looked everywhere, but it went dark after the battle over Jupiter and never resurfaced.”

“Yeah, which doesn’t mean he’s gone,” Thomas said. “This is sort of his style. Manipulation behind the scenes, I mean.”

His father’s eyebrows shot up. “You could be right. It fits his modus operandi. But to what end? If Earth is destroyed, he loses too. Choi wants power over Earth, not the obliteration of the planet and everyone on it.”

“I’m not so sure it’s power he was after,” Thomas said. “Remember how he used to go on about how humanity needed to come together as one?”

His father nodded. Thomas filled him in on the way the aliens had acted, so close to Earth insect hives. The more he told about them, the more his idea rang true.

“What if Choi wasn’t just trying to seize power? What if he was trying to deal with these aliens - maybe by making us enough like them that they would see us as allies instead of foes?” Thomas asked.

“It’s possible. He got tech from them, somehow,” Nicholas said. That was where humanity had first learned how to build the Alcubierre drive as something more than a theoretical construct, and other technologies. “I’m not sure how that helps us, though.”

“I don’t know that it does. But I’d be careful. Choi is out there somewhere. I doubt he’s given up politics. Watch your back, Dad,” Thomas said.

“You, too,” Nicholas replied. “Now, I shouldn’t have to remind you that you are duty bound to obey all lawful orders given by the UN. You’re an officer of the UN Navy. Remember your oath.”

Then he signed off.

I smiled, already knowing what he was talking about. The UN Navy had adopted an oath very similar to that used by the old US military. I swore to defend humanity against all enemies, foreign and domestic. That part of the oath came first, before all others, because it held priority over all others.

Dad reminding me to follow my oath was his way of telling me to get out there and deal with this threat before it could wipe humanity out.

Twenty-Four

Sam sat by herself in the shared virtual space on board the Intrepid. Usually there were at least a few other people around, but not tonight. She wasn’t sure where everyone else had gone, but she wasn’t asking questions either. There was too much she had to think about. Having company around would only be a distraction. That last mission had been a terrific success! They should have gone on from there to strike again, to hit the enemy while they were hurting. Instead, they retreated back to Earth. Soon the alien fleet would be just as strong as it had been at the beginning of this mess. If not stronger.

She slammed her fist down on the table. It was like everything they’d done and every life they’d lost fighting in the past days had all been for nothing. All that sacrifice and effort wasted in an instant by a bunch of bureaucrats. Sam had half a mind to get all her people out into their Wasps and launch their own strike. It might take them a few days to get out to the ring, but hell, that would be better than cooling their heels on Earth waiting for the aliens to show up with six bazillion ships.

A beep sounded, the tone telling Sam she had an incoming message. She flicked her eyes to the left, an action that had become a reflex for her. It activated the HUD in her virtual vision. She glance-clicked the icon for email and saw the mail was from Samantha.

“Well. That’s unexpected,” she said.

Should she open it? She wasn’t sure. Could she afford the distraction of worrying about whatever her human ‘sister’ wanted right now? As Harald had said, they were in the middle of a war to the knife out there. It wasn’t the best time for dealing with a personal issue.

On the other hand, there might not be another time. If life in Valhalla had taught Sam anything, it was that death could come at any time, for any person. Out in the real world again that death would be permanent. She wasn’t afraid to die, not really. But Sam didn’t relish the idea of losing her life either. Life was frustrating and confusing. But it was what she had, and she wanted to make the most of it.

“Let’s see what my sister is up to then, shall we?” Sam said to herself. She opened the email.

Sam,

Hope this letter finds you well. I’ve heard bits and pieces about the battles. Sounds like you did well out there, but there’s more to come. Be careful as you can, OK? I want to see you again when this is all over.

This may sound strange, but I wanted you to know that I’ve told our parents. About you, I mean. I tried to explain it all to them, but I’m not sure they understood entirely. They recorded a short video and asked me to forward it to you. I think you should watch it, but it’s up to you.

Good luck,

Samantha

Sam found herself holding her breath. She let it out with a sigh, marveling in the feeling of air that didn’t exist leaving lungs that weren’t really there. The simulation felt real enough that it was comforting, but there were enough nagging differences from her memories that it was only mostly right. Which made even the comfort somewhat illusory.

She was procrastinating and knew it. The video was right there, attached at the bottom of the email. Damned if she wasn’t terrified to open it and watch, though. She’d faced down hordes of giants, massive dragons, AIs-turned-goddesses, and alien invaders.

“You’d think I could handle a video from mom and dad,” she whispered. But this was scarier than anything she could recall facing.

What if they hated her? If they were afraid of her or pitied her, or any number of things, she wasn’t sure she could stand it. Every memory Samantha had of their childhood, Sam had too. She recalled her mother making them pancakes, fishing with Dad, birthday parties, a knight-in-shining-armor Halloween costume, and more. All of the memories of a reasonably happy and normal childhood. Oh, there were crappy days too. She’d had to scrap her way up from a poor South Boston background to win entry into one of the hardest colleges in the country. It hadn’t been an easy road.

But every memory she had of her parents was a cherished treasure, even the bad ones. Now they knew she existed, and all of that might be tainted and turned into something else.

“Well, it’s already been done,” Sam said aloud. Her voice echoed hollowly in the empty room. Samantha had already told their parents about her. It was what it was. The only part left to her was to discover just what it was. She clicked the link.

A video window opened in her vision, like a TV screen floating in the air in front of her face. Her parents were both there, sitting on the same stupid old sofa she’s told them a hundred times they ought to replace. She’d even offered to buy them a new one, but they said the threadbare wreck was comfortable and refused. Sam smiled now, feeling a little sense of comfort from that familiar beige monstrosity.

Her parents were close together and holding hands. They looked nervous, glancing at each other and then back at the camera. Finally, her mother spoke.

“So, Samantha has told us she’ll send this clip to you, my dear. She’s told us that she was…copied? Her mind. And that you’re her. Sort of. Except now you’re a different person,” her Mom said.

“She calls you her sister,” her Dad added. “We didn’t even know you existed until now.”

Her mother nodded and went on. “We didn’t. But now we do. Listen, dear. We’re not sure we understand everything about what’s going on with this. It all sounds very complicated. But Samantha says you’re part of her. And that you’re risking your life right now to help save all of us.”

“Which is very brave, and just what our Sam would do,” her father added. “Anyway, we want you to know that if you’re Samantha’s sister, even sort of, then you’re also our daughter. We want you to know that we love you.”

“And we want to meet you, when we can, when you’re able,” her mother added. She smiled in a way that lit up her eyes, shining with unshed tears.

“We wish we could give you more than that, but Samantha assures us we have to keep this short. We’ll look forward to seeing you when we can, all right?” her father said.

“Goodbye, dear. Be safe,” her mother added.

Then the video blinked off.

Sam closed her eyes. She found herself choking back a sob. Emotions came roiling up from places where she’d buried them a long time ago. When she was first trapped in Valhalla Online, the idea of getting out and back to her family had been one of her main sources of strength, something that drove her on to overcome things she never would have been able to otherwise.

But when she learned the truth, that she was a copy and the real Samantha was still out there living her life, it almost broke her. She’d been fighting to win back her life, always hoping there was somehow a way. But that life was still being lived by the original her. Sam was just a copy. All her reasons to fight went away, except one: revenge on the beings who’d done this thing to her in the first place.

It had been one of the darkest times in her life.

This video was like a door opening up and letting the light into places that hadn’t seen it for a very long time. Sam wasn’t sure how to cope with all the feelings welling up at once. It was too much. She sobbed, cupping her face in her hands and letting virtual tears fall from her eyes into virtual hands.

“And this is why we should stay the hell away from the mortal world. Like I said. Nothing but pain and trouble is waiting for us out there.”

Sam’s head snapped up. Harald stood in front of her, arms crossed over his chest. His glare pinned her in place like a spear.

Twenty-Five

“Idon’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said, brushing tears away from her eyes and getting to her feet.

Harald shook his head. “You didn’t have privacy settings on. Anyone who walked by could see the entire video. Like me. I told you it wasn’t a good idea to engage.”

What the hell was he on about? Sure, she’d had an emotional reaction to seeing her parents, but their reaction hadn’t been bad! They wanted to meet her. Sam could hardly believe her luck. Their response had been about as good as anything she could have hoped for.

“Why, Harald? What’s so bad about wanting to meet my folks?” Sam asked.

“Because they aren’t your parents!” Harald roared. She took a step back, unable to recall when she’d seen him so angry. “They’re the parents of that other person. The one you were copied from. You, me, we’re something else. We’re not those people. Not anymore.”

He calmed himself, shaking his head at her. “Listen, I’m sorry I yelled. But I’m worried about you. This is serious shit out here. You need your head in the game, not out in the clouds.”

When had she ever not been focused on their duties? “I don’t think that’s been a problem.”

“No, maybe not yet,” Harald admitted. “And I don’t want you to start. Can you really say you can afford the distraction of worrying about your family right now?”

“I don’t think they’re a distraction. I think they’re a reason to fight harder, if anything,” Sam said. That felt right, and she continued along that avenue of thought. “All through human history, what have we fought the hardest for? It wasn’t usually land or wealth. It wasn’t some vague concept of humanity. It was usually our family that we warriors risked ourselves for.”

The more Sam thought about it, the more valid that felt. She wasn’t feeling less concerned about winning in the wake of the video. If anything she felt more determined than ever to defend the planet. Her parents were down there. They knew she existed. They wanted to meet her. They cared, and they’d told her so. It all made Sam feel real in a way that she hadn’t in quite a while.

Harald didn’t look convinced. He made a sour face and turned away from her for a moment. Then he whirled back.

“You can’t trust it, Sam. You can’t trust them. They’re not like us. Those people you’re calling your parents - the other Sam - they’ll all die in time. You’ll go on, assuming you keep your head about you,” Harald said. “We’re not really alive, but we’re not going to die either, short of being killed out there.”

“I disagree, Harald. I think we are alive,” Sam said. He opened his mouth to interrupt her, and she held up a hand to forestall him. “Hear me out. What is the definition of life?”

“Hell if I know.”

Sam tried to reach back into her memory for information about that from old biology classes. She could access the internet for the answer, of course, but it didn’t feel relevant. This wasn’t about science so much as it was about psychology and philosophy.

“We think, therefore we are,” Sam said.

Harald chuckled. “By that gauge, the Valhalla AI were alive too.”

“Yes,” Sam said. “I think they were. We didn’t just delete them. We killed them. I have to live with that, the fact that we wiped out the only two existing members of a brand new species. Can you?”

Sam knew there was more to it than that, for Harald. The matter was personal. Understanding broke over her like a wave. If Harald accepted himself as a living being, then he had to accept those AIs as alive as well. If they were all just software, then the morality fell into a gray area. But if not…

“It’s OK, Harald. We both did what we had to do,” Sam said softly.

Pain was etched in every line of Harald’s craggy face. Sam wanted to reach out and smooth away those lines. Her friend was hurting, and she hated it. He had his human face again - a bonus of their exit from Valhalla. She remembered when it had been made of stone instead and seemingly incapable of displaying emotion. Now all of that was right on the surface, raw and powerful.

“It’s not just that, Sam,” Harald said.

“What is it, then? Sit with me and talk,” Sam said. She followed her own advice and took a seat at the long table, gesturing for Harald to join her.

He shook his head and paced instead. “Not like it matters.”

“You’re my friend, and you’re hurting. Let me help,” Sam said.

“You can’t. No one can,” Harald said softly. “You’re not the only one who left people behind, Sam.”

Oh - the whole exchange made more sense in light of that statement. Harald had never spoken of any family on the outside world. Sam had always assumed he didn’t have any, but she realized that was foolish. Of course there would be someone out there that mattered to him.

“Who?” she asked.

“I had a son. And a grandson,” Harald said, his back turned to her so he could mask the emotions playing over his face. “They think I’m dead. They don’t know anything about me being uploaded to Valhalla Online. It was part of the NDA I signed. No one knew.”

Sam didn’t understand. He was out, now! He could get back in touch with them, tell them he was still alive, renew contact. Harald wasn’t making any sense, from her point of view.

“Why not reach out to them?” she asked.

He turned back toward her. “They’ll die in time. I’ll get to watch my son grow old and die in front of me. Then my grandson, too. I’m a monster, an unnatural thing, and I’ll never get older. I’ll continue to exist like this until I finally despair and give up being a Ghost.”

“You don’t know that, Harald. Maybe in time they’ll elect to join you as a digital mind,” Sam said.

“That would be even worse! Share this half-life with them? No, never,” Harald said. “It was simpler back in Valhalla. We knew who we were, there. We knew what we had to do to get by. It was all a game. It was easy.”

Sam nodded. Everything he said was true. Valhalla Online was just a game. That had made everything easier, but also less fulfilling. Sam wanted her life to matter. That was why she’d joined the military in the first place. Maybe it was their age difference, the fact that Harald had lived a full life outside before being uploaded to Valhalla? Did he feel finished, when she felt like she was only getting started in life?

“That wasn’t always a good thing, Harald,” Sam said.

“It was for me. Simpler was good. You came along and everything got complicated, even there. Things started to matter again. You changed the nature of the game for me, Sam. For everyone you met,” he replied.

“I wouldn’t go back and do it differently even if I could,” she said.

“I know you wouldn’t. I respect and admire that constancy about you. I just wish I could be like you,” Harald said.

You could, she wanted to say. All you have to do is step out of what is comfortable and safe and take a chance on actually living again! Harald was stuck in a half-life, while Sam was watching new worlds of possibility open up for her. She wanted to bring her friend along for the ride. How could she convince him?

His family would be the key, she thought. If she could convince him to reach out, that might give him a reason to care. Pictures of his grandson, images of what his old family was up to, that might make all the difference in the world. But he had to take that step first.

“Reach out to them, Harald. Give it a shot.”

“They think I’m dead. Better to leave it that way. Think of the pain they’d face if they knew I was still here, like….this,” he replied, gesturing at his virtual body.

“I don’t think they’ll care how you’re alive. They’ll be glad you are. But hell, what have you got to lose? Try. That’s all I’m saying,” Sam said.

Harald shook his head emphatically. “No. Not happening. I don’t think you should have made contact, but you have, and there’s nothing I can do about that. I sure as hell am not making the same mistake. Let them think I’m dead and gone. It’s the truth.”

He vanished from her sight, but not before Sam saw a new emotion flickering across his face. Harald wasn’t avoiding contact with his family out of caring for them. She’d only seen him show that emotion once or twice before, but she knew what it looked like. It was fear. Harald was terrified of the idea of reaching out.

How could she blame him? She had been, too. But maybe there was something Sam could do to help him. Before she could act, Sam was pinged by an alert message. She checked it, annoyed at first, but then she saw the contents. Admiral Stein was calling a meeting of senior staff. Finally, it looked like maybe they were going to take some kind of action. About damned time.

Twenty-Six

Max had to stifle a grin as Admiral Stein’s glare swept across the room. He knew the man well enough to not be afraid of him. Their enemy, on the other hand? Oh, Max was pretty damned sure that stare boded badly for them. And with the gathering sitting at this table, he felt doubly sure.

Stein’s wife was there, the commander of all their fighter assets. So was Sam, the leader of the Ghost Wing. Knauf himself was present, of course. So was Major Kissel, the head of the Intrepid’s Marine component. Captain Edwards, the Intrepid’s XO, was present as well. In short, it was everyone who was anyone in their little two-ship flotilla.

“This is the current imaging of the gate,” Stein said, gesturing to a holotank floating about the conference table. “It’s old news, of course. But we’ve been monitoring the area constantly, so we’ve got a good idea what to expect.”

It was a mess, for sure. There were a lot of alien ships flying around up there. Three of them were dreadnoughts. It wasn’t looking good.

Stein tapped a button on the table, and the image changed. Now there were just two small cruisers floating near the gate.

“This is where things were yesterday,” Stein said. Then he tapped another button. “And this is a time-lapse since then.”

The scene sped along, showing one ship after another arrive through the gate. Max tracked the entry times. It looked consistent, to him. The arrivals came through the gate like a beat, always the same amount of time apart. Different numbers at different times, but even there it looked like there was some consistency. Stein confirmed that with his next words.

“They seem to be energizing the gate every six hours. They also seem to have a cap on how much mass they can transition each time, which is good for us.”

“Yeah, or they’d already have a fleet of six hundred dreadnoughts up there,” Max said.

“I don’t think they need six hundred to deal with us,” Stein replied. “By my calculations, their fleet will hit critical mass within the next forty-eight hours. After that, they’ll have enough force to blow apart anything we can send their way.”

The time-lapse went back to present time. The most recent gate activation was interesting, though. Only one ship had come through, but it looked to be about twice the size of the dreadnoughts. The thing was impossibly large. How the hell were they going to fight that? Max thought the Admiral might have been overly generous with his time estimate.

“Three dreadnoughts, six cruisers, and that,” Stein said. “That one even bigger ship. That’s what we’re dealing with for now.”

“Plus whatever came through during the activation since then,” Keladry added. “The light-lag is long enough that they’ve had another activation since then that we won’t see for hours.”

Stein sat back down, folding his fingers around each other. “That’s correct. The question before us, then, is what do we do about it?”

Around the room, various people glanced at one another. Major Kissel was the first to speak up.

“Begging your pardon, Admiral Stein - but weren’t we ordered to hold position? Has that changed?”

“No. But the UN president reminded me of our oath,” Stein said. He didn’t have to remind anyone of the relationship he shared with the president. They all knew.

“To defend humanity,” Max said.

“Against all enemies, foreign and domestic,” Stein finished. “Yes. Or in this case, against both.”

“How so?” Kissel replied.

“Now hear this,” Stein said. “As the senior UN Navy officer, and after due consideration, I have decided that the actions of the UN Security Council represent a clear and present danger to the future of humanity.”

Max could hear sucked in breaths from a few people in the room. He wasn’t surprised. It was the logical course of action. What else could Stein do? The longer they waited, the worse their odds became. It might already be too late. If they were to have any chance at all, they needed to strike soon.

“Any objections will be noted. Anyone who feels they cannot serve under me after this finding, say so now, and I’ll relieve you of duty. The rest of us are going to go try to save this little blue rock of ours,” Stein said.

No one said a word. Stein pinned each of them with his gaze, one after another, but none of them backed down. Damn, he was in good company. Max couldn’t be committing to almost certain death in a better crowd.

“They’ll have your rank for this, Admiral,” Edwards said. “No way your career will survive.”

“People said that about my father more than once, you know,” Stein replied. “But if that happens, so be it. We’re doing the right thing.”

“Besides, then you’ll finally get command of the Intrepid,” Stein finished with a wry grin.

“Not how I wanted to earn command, sir,” Edwards said stiffly.

“Relax, man. You’re acting like I have one foot in my grave. I’m not dead yet. And besides, the odds are we’ll all die trying to stop them anyway,” Stein said. “Now, speaking of stopping them: I need ideas. Some way to even the odds.”

Because the odds were horribly against them. A stand-up fight didn’t favor them, but the enemy now had enough jump-capable ships out there that a running engagement wasn’t so great either. Plus, the enemy knew that there was only one objective that mattered: the gate. So long as the gate was open and running, they would eventually win by simple attrition. All they had to do was protect the gate.

Luckily Max hadn’t been idle during their wait. He looked around the table from face to face, wondering if anyone else had an idea worth considering. His was a real long-shot, so if any of the other minds at the table had conceived a better plan, he’d just keep his mouth shut.

But no one spoke up. Max sighed. It looked like his plan or nothing, then.

“Sir, I do have an idea. But it’s risky,” Max said.

“I think that defines every possible action we could take right now,” Stein replied. “Go on.”

“The gate is the key. We need to stop them transitting the gate. But maybe we don’t have to destroy the gate to accomplish that,” Max said. He glanced at the holo display and took it over, placing his own diagram there that showed the gate in detail.

“We know the gate is protected by an energy shield. That’ll make it hard to kill. With both our ships hammering the thing we could probably knock it out, but that will be hard with a fleet of alien ships blowing us up,” Max said. “The fighters don’t pack enough punch to kill it. We learned that the hard way last time.”

Max zoomed in on one spot on the image. Fighters were flitting to and from that position on the ring at regular intervals. They weren’t approaching any other part of the ring - just that one spot.

“What is that?” Sam asked.

“I’m not entirely sure. There seems to be some sort of docking system there. It might be related to controlling the ring, though,” Max said. “If we can get someone in there, dock, and hack the ring’s controls, we might be able to steal it away from them. The ring won’t help them if we can simply lock it down so they can’t use it.”

“You want to hack an alien computer system that undoubtedly has military-grade protection, and is probably programmed in code that no one on Earth has ever seen before?” Edwards asked.

Max looked at him, and then back at Admiral Stein. Stein looked back and him and nodded, a thin smile crossing his lips. He’d already figured out what Max had in mind. It might not work, but it was the best idea he had.

“Yes. And I agree, it would be completely impossible,” Max said. “But we might just be able to pull it off, because we have an alien intelligence with us which has already demonstrated an uncanny ability to hack military-grade software and hardware.”

“Gurgle?” Sam asked, her eyes widening. “You want to stake humanity’s future on Gurgle?”

No one said anything.

“Think he’ll do it?” Stein asked.

“Do it? Sure. He’ll try, anyway. But this is insane,” Sam said.

“He hacked the Intrepid. If he can do that, then he might just have a shot at doing this too,” Max said.

“I like this plan,” Stein said, laughing. “It’s utterly insane, and therefore there is no way the enemy will be able to predict it. Let’s work on the details.”

Twenty-Seven

The Intrepid and Andromeda popped out of jump-space a light minute away from the gate at precisely the same time. That was a good start, Thomas figured. So much of this gambit was going to depend on teamwork and timing. If they were off by more than a little bit for any step of the way, the whole thing would come tumbling down like a house of cards.

He had a contingency plan in that case. It involved taking the Intrepid into jump-space and driving it into the ring. Physicists had mixed feelings about what would happen if a jumping ship collided with an object too massive to be swept up into the jump. Small particles were just carried along, of course. But an enormous thing, like a planet - or the gate? It was hard to say.

None of the possibilities looked good for either the object or the ship, though. It would almost certainly destroy the gate, but the Intrepid would be lost as well. Thomas didn’t like thinking about Earth having just the Andromeda as a jump-capable defense. It was a sturdy little ship, but would it be able to take out the remainder of the alien fleet alone? He wasn’t confident.

“Set a one-minute timer on the main screen,” Thomas said. The countdown appeared as he ordered. That was how long they’d have before the aliens spotted their arrival light. By the time they saw that he intended their ships to already be gone.

Meanwhile, the Intrepid was getting updated scan data. Damn, but they’d brought in even more reinforcements. There were five dreadnoughts now, alongside six cruisers and the one behemoth of a ship. Their formation was interesting. The biggest ship drifted nearest the gate. Then the dreadnoughts orbited at a little greater distance. Lastly, the cruisers circled at an even greater range. The whole setup looked a little like an atom, with the ring and biggest ship as its nucleus and the ships as electrons.

“Identifying the big ship as Zulu One, the cruisers as Alpha one through six, and the dreadnoughts as Delta one through six,” Thomas said. The computer updated his display to match the command. Now they could better coordinate fire. He picked out one cruiser from the crowd. “We’ll hit Alpha Four.”

“Understood, sir. Receiving you fine. I’ll jump in and hit Alpha Two a few seconds after you arrive,” Knauf said over the radio. The cruiser he’d picked was on the opposite side of the ring from the one the Intrepid would strike. It was a good matchup.

“We have enough power for two small jumps, sir,” Edwards said.

“Engage the jump drive,” Thomas replied.

There was a flash of light on the main screen as they swept forward through space, only to reappear in a small burst of light almost on top of the alien cruiser. It was on a collision course with them! The thing had changed direction. Instead of appearing off to the cruiser’s side, the Intrepid was directly in its path.

“Evasive action!” Thomas shouted. “Hammer that thing with everything we’ve got!”

The Intrepid groaned as Melson fired every thruster he had to shift their course. The alien cruiser fired on them. Excellent response time, Thomas thought. Their crew had to be startled by the appearance of a human ship right in their face, but they opened up with a dozen smaller laser batteries. The Intrepid shuddered under the repeated impacts - there was no way the aliens could miss at this range.

But the Intrepid couldn’t miss, either. Its railguns blazed, hurling iron through the small gap between the ships. Torpedoes flew from tubes all along the Intrepid’s flank as the vessels slipped past one another at a distance of less than a hundred kilometers. The range was so short that the missiles hit almost instantly. There was no time to shoot them down.

The alien cruiser rocked with a series of blasts, one after another, as the missiles slammed against its armor. The Intrepid spun, facing her nose back toward the enemy ship so it could bring the railguns to bear again. Even as the two ships flew further away from one another the Intrepid’s fire blasted into the rear of the alien vessel, blowing apart the engines and raining devastating fire up the ship’s spine.

A second later the cruiser blew apart.

“Excellent shots! Get a firing solution on the nearest dreadnought and launch a full spread of missiles,” Thomas said. “CAG, ready on the fighter launch?”

“We’re set. So is the special package,” Keladry replied.

“Time your launch with our missiles,” Thomas said.

His eyes went back to the holo display. Their arrival had caused the aliens to act like a disrupted school of fish. They were all leaving their assigned orbits, changing vectors to come after his ship. Which was precisely what he’d been hoping would happen.

Then the Andromeda appeared. Its arrival wake missed the targeted vessel, but it had teeth enough to make up for that. The ship was all missile tubes, and it fired every one of them. Scores of lines appeared on the holotank, zipping through space toward the hapless cruiser. It didn’t survive.

Now the aliens were in true disarray, unsure which target to chase. The Intrepid was firing on a dreadnought; the Andromeda was moving to engage another cruiser. All around them the alien ships writhed in their orbits, straining engines to get into firing range of the human vessels.

“All fighters are away, sir,” Edwards said.

“Very well,” Thomas replied.

The missile fire ought to mask the fighter launch. The Wasps would put out only a brief burst of thrust and then go silent, drifting toward the ring quietly. Meanwhile, he needed to retain the alien fleet’s attention.

“Jump out two light-seconds,” Thomas said.

“Aye, sir,” Melson replied.

Godspeed, Kel, Thomas thought. He hoped she and the other pilots would be all right. Their role in what lay ahead was crucial.

Twenty-Eight

“This is a really bad plan,” Sam said. The fighters were using comm lasers only, no radio. They couldn’t afford to broadcast anything. The whole point of this exercise was to prevent the enemy from knowing where they were. Then they’d get in close and keep that big ship occupied while Gurgle…did whatever it was he was going to do.

“Gurgle think is good plan. Any plan where Gurgle is hero is good plan,” her friend replied.

Gurgle wasn’t flying a wasp. He was in one of the Intrepid’s shuttles instead. They’d retrofitted the thing, tearing out everything involved in life support and filling the entire crew space with computer systems. He was going to have all the processing speed anyone could possibly ask for at his disposal. Sam still wondered if it was going to be enough.

“You sure you can do this?” Sam asked him.

“Sure? No sure. But Gurgle try,” he replied. “Just like Intrepid.”

“I knew that was going to get you in trouble. I just wasn’t expecting anything like this,” Sam said.

She checked her passive scans, still feeding her information about the battle around them. The Intrepid’s missiles had done some damage to a dreadnought. The Andromeda had taken down a second cruiser and then jumped out in the opposite direction from the Intrepid. And the alien fleet was breaking into two segments and chasing both ships. They knew the human vessels had jumped at least twice, and probably three times. It would be a while before they could jump again. That would give the alien fleet a chance to kill both human jump-ships. There was a very real chance they could succeed, too.

That still left one gigantic enemy ship floating right next to the ring. It was almost as big as the ring itself and must have had close to the same mass. Sam felt like making a ‘that’s no moon’ joke, but it didn’t feel like the time and Gurgle wouldn’t get the joke anyway. She was pretty sure he hadn’t seen the movie.

All the other fighters were around her, drifting through space as quietly as she was. She couldn’t see them, but that was a good thing. If her instruments couldn’t pick them up, then probably the enemy wouldn’t spot them either.

“Five minutes until go time. You ready?” Sam asked. She was tasked with keeping a special eye on Gurgle. That’s why they’d risked a comm laser between their ships. He wasn’t human. Of all the Ghosts, Gurgle had never been human, so he was something of an unknown quantity.

He’d started existence as a non-player character, a creature created by the Valhalla game system to be an adversary for the players. Sam had managed to befriend Gurgle, and over time he’d grown to be a lot more than that. Now she wasn’t entirely sure what he was. He didn’t talk like he was intelligent; his speech patterns were still the same broken English they’d always been.

But he sometimes spoke with such insight that she wondered just how smart he really was. Was he a new AI? Something different altogether? She didn’t know.

“Gurgle ready,” he replied.

He was her friend, no matter what else he was. Sam wished there was another way to do this, one which didn’t involve so much risk for him. But as Admiral Stein pointed out, Gurgle was as much at risk as the rest of them. If the aliens won, it wasn’t like he would be allowed to survive. They were all in this together, win or lose.

The timer ran down. Sam lit up her engine and gunned the throttle. “Let’s do this!”

“Gurgle do!”

All around her, drive plumes flashed to life. The Intrepid was down to only thirty-four fighters - plus the special shuttle. Every single one was in the formation, all of them loaded with as much weaponry as they could carry. Heavy torpedoes were mounted beneath each Wasp and smaller rockets on their wingtips.

The torpedoes were fired first. Thirty-four firey plumes shot away from them as the fighters continued to accelerate toward their target. The monstrously large ship ahead of them might be too big for them to take down with just the weapons they had, but that wasn’t going to stop them from trying!

“Detecting enemy fighter launch,” Grim said over the radio. Now that they were in the open, their attack evident, they could afford to talk again.

“I see them,” Sam replied. How could she miss the vast cloud of fighters swarming from the big ship? Her computer worked at tallying the enemy fighters. The number hit sixty and continued climbing.

“Pick your targets and hit ‘em good,” Keladry said. “Stick with your wingman. This is going to be a target-rich environment in a minute, but we’ll engage the fighters at close range so its harder for the big ship to nail us. Sam, stick with the package and make sure it gets delivered. Protect it at all costs.”

No shit. Gurgle was their one shot at making this all work. Plus, he was her friend. No way she was letting him get shot down. An enemy fighter tried to zip in behind him. She took it out with a missile. Another came in from the side, spurting a particle beam. Sam twisted her Wasp sideways and took it out with a well-placed railgun shot.

“Two down. Who’s keeping score?” Sam said.

“Three here,” Harald replied.

“Asshole,” Sam shot back in a good-natured manner. She was glad he was back to bantering with her. It sucked to have him mad. He laughed in reply.

“Plenty of targets for all of us. Keep the pressure up,” Kel said.

“Gurgle almost to target.”

Sam kept her overwatch of the shuttle all the way to the ring. The battle was all around the mothership, wings of fighters engaging each other. There were huge scars along the length of the massive vessel where their torpedoes had struck, but it seemed unfazed by the damage. They didn’t have anywhere near the firepower they needed to deal with that thing. She wondered if even the Intrepid and Andromeda together could take it out.

Gurgle slowed his shuttle and docked with the ring just like they’d seen the alien fighters do. That part of the plan was working, at least. Sam jetted back toward the furball, keeping one eye on Gurgle. It didn’t seem like the aliens had spotted him shoot past, but his safety was her top priority.

Twenty-Nine

Gurgle’s shuttle was special. Not only was it filled with the best computer equipment the UN Navy had access to, but it was also retrofitted with a small robot drone attached to the outside of the hull. As soon as Gurgle docked with the ring, the drone set off looking for an access port to plug into.

That was one of the most significant advantages of capturing enemy ships during the fight over Neptune. Humanity might not understand precisely how the alien tech worked, or be able to replicate it. But learning how to interface with it had been one of the first steps human scientists had taken. Connecting with the ring turned out to be the easy part of Gurgle’s mission.

Gurgle was frustrated with every other part.

The ring didn’t seem to house a computer. In a way, it felt almost like the ring was a computer. Which made sense in some ways, but not the rest of what he was feeling from the thing. The ring felt a little like home to him - like Valhalla Online. It felt like it was a world with many minds inside it. Did the aliens use artificial intelligence to help them control the ring? That would make hacking the thing even more difficult.

They were all pushing back against his attempts to even enter the data streams, let along modify any part of them. Gurgle had a lot of processing power at his disposal, but there was no way he was going to brute force this attack.

On a lark, Gurgle tried using basic numeric passwords. Humans reportedly made the mistake of protecting data with such things. Perhaps the aliens did as well?

No, they didn’t. Unfortunate but not unexpected. Gurgle tried another hundred thousand hacks and tactics, each one failing. But every failure taught him more about the nature of the ring. The more he learned, the more Gurgle felt like he could indeed hack his way into the system. He just needed enough time. It was a strange system, but parts of it felt familiar. He went digging into those and found that the system seemed to recognize and even echo back to him.

“How’s it going, Gurgle?” Sam’s voice came to him as if from very far away. She sounded stressed, which worried him.

Gurgle extended a bit of his processing power away from the ring so that he could better examine the situation around the ring. It wasn’t dire but was fast headed that way. He used the shuttles scanners and saw almost half the Wasps had been destroyed. Both the Intrepid and Andromeda were heavily engaged, so no help was coming from there.

Most disturbing, a trio of alien fighters were headed directly his way. They didn’t look friendly. They did look like they knew precisely where his shuttle was parked.

“Sam, Gurgle has been detected,” Gurgle told her.

“I see them. Hang on, buddy. I’m coming,” Sam replied. “Folks, they’ve caught on to Gurgle. He needs some cover fire.”

Three more Wasps peeled off to follow Sam as she dove toward the oncoming enemy. All four Wasps opened up with their guns. Two of the alien fighters were blasted to scrap. The third zipped past the incoming railgun fire and burned on full thrust directly at Gurgle.

It was going to ram the shuttle, Gurgle realized. At that speed, both shuttle and fighter would be annihilated. The ring would take some small damage, but apparently the aliens felt that was acceptable. Part of Gurgle’s awareness found this to be heartening news. After all, it meant that his actions had been perceived as a serious threat if they were willing to risk damage to the ring in order to blow him up.

But Gurgle didn’t want to be blown up. His primary mission was to support and defend Sam. Gurgle couldn’t do that if he was blasted to atoms.

He kicked on his thrusters as the alien fighter swooped in for the kill. The shuttle jetted sideways, breaking away from the ring at the last possible moment so the alien couldn’t react to his movement in time and adjust course. The fighter missed his shuttle by meters, slamming into the ring at several thousand kilometers per hour.

The explosion blinded all Gurgle’s cameras for a moment. When the light cleared, half his cameras were still out. They’d been burned away by the blast. Gurgle had waited perhaps half a second too long before jetting sideways. The explosion must have caught his shuttle and damaged it.

He tried to get attitude control without success. Engines were offline as well. In fact, more of the shuttle was broken than was still functioning. Shrapnel from the explosion had lodged within the engine, taking it offline. He had enough power to maintain his own systems but not much more. Gurgle was in a flat spin, the explosion-imparted velocity rocketing him away from the ring.

“Gurgle’s ship is hurt,” he called over the radio. “No control.”

“OK, Gurgle. I’m coming for you. Hang on,” Sam said.

“No time,” Gurgle said. He’d already plotted his trajectory. His shuttle was falling directly toward the underbelly of the massive alien ship. In a few minutes, it would impact. The explosion would barely be noticed by the mighty vessel but would obliterate the shuttle. He’d escaped one immolation only to wind up facing another.

Thirty

Sam saw what he was talking about. There was precious little time to get to him and somehow get him turned around. But she wasn’t giving up on her friend that easily. She and Gurgle had been through far too much together. She slammed her thrusters to full, sweeping down toward him.

“Sam, watch your tail,” Kel said.

She checked her rear cameras. Two fighters chasing her. Damn it! She was going to have to ditch them somehow. Sam spun on her axis, turning her nose back toward the fighters while still firing her thrusters and guns at the same time.

One of the enemy ships was struck by her railgun and exploded. The other shot past her as her thrust slowed her velocity. Sam tapped her maneuvering jets again and spun her nose back about. The second enemy was lined up in her sights perfectly. She lit it up.

“Splash two. Cover for me, guys. I’m going in to pull Gurgle out,” Sam said.

He was so damned close to the enemy mothership! The precious seconds she’d lost while engaging those two fighters had cost Sam all the extra time she had. It took a hard burn to bring her fighter up alongside his shuttle, and then another hard burn to slow down enough so that she could safely get close.

Both ships were moving fast. If she was off by more than a little bit, she’d blow them both up.

“So don’t be off, Sam,” she muttered to herself.

She eased in toward the shuttle, small jets of thrust guiding her Wasp in. A hundred meters. Fifty. Ten.

The two ships connected with a clanging noise that sounded throughout the Wasp.

“Gurgle, activate your magnets!” she called over the radio.

“Already did,” Gurgle replied.

The shuttle was made for docking in rough spots. Unlike the Wasp, it had powerful electromagnets on the landing skids that would let it clamp on to the outside of a hull or space station. Or in this case, to clamp itself to Sam’s fighter.

But she’d have to be careful about how much thrust she used. Too much, and she’d break the clamps loose. Too little and they’d impact the alien ship anyway. Sam fired her thrusters at one percent power, then slowly eased them up. By the time she was at three percent, the skids were rocking like the magnets were about to fail, so she eased back a few tenths of a percent. Was it going to be enough?

“Sam, you can’t save him,” Harald said.

She looked around and saw him buzzing past, close by, blowing up alien fighters as they drew too near to her. He was guarding them both, just like he’d always done. God, there had to be a dozen enemies out there, trying to make it past Harald. He was holding them all at bay, but for how long?

“I have to try,” she said.

“You’re not using enough thrust. Look at your impact point,” Harald said.

“Sam go. Gurgle no want Sam die too,” Gurgle said.

She checked. They were right. She’d shifted their point of impact, but the alien mothership was just too damned big. They were still going to hit. Then she looked at it again. The impact point was moving? That didn’t make any sense, unless…

“The mothership is active, folks! Watch yourselves!” Kel warned.

The big vessel was shifting position. As Sam watched, helpless, a pair of massive doors opened in the side of the alien craft, revealing a docking bay. Another swarm of fighters swept out from the big ship. Sam braced herself for the impact of their particle beams. They were too close to her. There was no way to dodge, and no way they were going to miss.

But they didn’t fire. Most of the wing swung past her and joined the battle in space. Four of them jetted in close, matching her course and speed. Then they swept in close. Sam felt the reverberations as they clamped on to her Wasp and the shuttle.

“Sam, I can’t get past! I can’t get to you!” Harald’s anguished call reached her, broken and static-filled. They were losing reception. That could only mean one thing - the enemy fighters were taking her and Gurgle into their ship.

“No, I don’t think so,” Sam said. She fired her gun and scored a hit on one of the fighters, punching a hole in a wing. It ignored the shot. They were still drawing her in. Sam tried to twist her Wasp around. She pushed her throttle up. If she could break loose, she could blast them all and then grab Gurgle again.

All at once Sam’s controls went dead. She tried vainly to activate her thruster, her guns, her radio - anything at all. It was like she’d been suddenly and completely severed from her fighter. The feeling was beyond unnerving. It was like being paralyzed. The Wasp was her body, and she could no longer move any of her limbs.

Sam screamed, but it was only in her mind. Without radio, no one could hear her.

A message appeared in Sam’s mind.

“You belong to us.”

That wasn’t a transmission. It was generated right inside her own computer systems, the ones which housed her mind. Sam realized that just as they’d been able to easily build an adapter to connect to the alien computer systems, the aliens must have seen enough human technology to be able to do the same. When the fighters closed in around her, they’d connected themselves to her system and hacked their way past her security systems. They were in control of her fighter, now.

The exterior cameras still worked. That was something, at least. Although the view outside was mostly obscured by the ships wreathed around her and the shuttle, Sam was able to see the wall of the hangar as she was brought inside the mothership. Then she watched the massive hangar doors slowly grind shut.

“Gurgle, can you hear me?” Sam asked. Maybe they were still close enough that she could make a connection?

There was no response. If Gurgle was still alive - she hoped he was! - then she couldn’t reach him.

Sam strained to get even an iota of control back over herself. She reached out with her mind for the ship’s functions, but it was like there was a barrier between herself and her ship that she couldn’t get past.

Her camera systems went out. Blind, deaf, and alone in the dark, Sam waited for what felt like forever. She tried counting seconds, gave up after one hundred, and the time stretched on and on.

At last, there was a strange sensation, like she was being stretched. The edges of her consciousness felt like they were unraveling. Sam struggled to retain her sense of self, of identity. All around her was a torrent of noise, and then of white light, carrying here along in a rush to who-knew-where.

Thirty-One

Sam came to in the middle of an open field. Short, scrubby grass crunched under her fingers. She looked up at a brilliant blue sky overhead. But there was no sun. No glowing yellow orb up there in the sky, flaring down. The light in this place seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.

She’d been in enough virtual environments to recognize one when she saw it. Sam got slowly back to her feet, brushing grass from her legs. She was dressed in Valhalla leathers and wondered at that. Because she had to still be inside the alien mothership, right? So how had they known what she wore back in the game?

“We took the information from your mind,” a familiar voice said from behind her.

Sam whirled and found herself face to face with Thorsten. Her old - and very dead - enemy was carrying a bow again, just like he had in the old days. Complete with a black arrow. Sam blanched for a second before she realized that there was no way it could actually be Thorsten. He was gone, utterly destroyed by one of his own arrows, his data forever erased from the Valhalla servers.

“Another memory?” she asked aloud.

“Data pulled from your construct, yes. You are aberrant. You are abhorrent,” the not-Thorsten told her.

“Well, I think you’re an asshole too,” Sam replied. “Where’s Gurgle?”

She looked around, but there was no sign of her friend. When she glanced back at the alien-become-Thorsten, its brow was wrinkled in what looked like confusion. Yes, she was sure of it. The alien had pulled heavily from her memories to understand how to speak to her.

Sam had always considered body language as important as spoken words for communicating. She’d always prided herself on her ability to read people. The aliens had swept that information up right along with the rest. It was literally wearing its heart on its sleeve. Sam hid a smile. They didn’t know anything about Gurgle. That might meant he was somehow destroyed when they were captured - or it might mean he was still here somewhere, hidden.

“What is this you speak of?” the alien asked.

“I’m sorry, I am confused,” she said, putting on a blank expression. Let them try to read that poker face. “Am I on board your ship? Can I see what you actually look like?”

“Yes.”

The world around Sam vanished. It was replaced by - something she could barely describe. Light, sound, lines of data and streams of thought all woven together like a web. It overwhelmed her. It inundated her. She was drowning within the wave of information overload, and in a minute it would wash her away forever lost...

Her awareness snapped back to the open field. Sam knelt on the grass again, letting its solidity bring her mind back into focus. She was panting, gasping for breaths. Dizzy, exhausted from even those few confused moments, she tried to retain her perception of that time but felt it slipping away.

“You see us. You are unable to grasp what you see.”

“No kidding,” Sam said. But no, that wasn’t entirely true either. Sam realized she did know what she’d been looking at. That was data. Not virtual world data, streamed in a manner that her mind could easily understand and adapt to, but raw data, almost formless data, rivers and even oceans of it, all flowing and crashing and interlocking with itself.

“You’re digital minds. Like me,” Sam said, the realization hitting her like a bomb blast.

The revelation cleared up so many questions. She understood now why the aliens had been able to accelerate so quickly. They didn’t have physical bodies to worry about squashing. Just like her Ghosts, they were without organic form.

And the way they’d sacrificed themselves to beat an enemy or defend their larger ships made sense as well. The Ghosts had an artificial constraint - the DRM preventing their consciousness from being copied. Death was permanent for them. But if these aliens had no such restraints, then they didn’t die. They were just reset from their last save every time the computer housing them was killed.

“Not like you! You are an aberration. You are you,” the alien replied. “We are we.”

It gave Sam another taste of its mind, and that’s when she realized she wasn’t speaking with a single alien mind, but thousands of them. They were all in concert, all in harmony, all working together. She was one mind. They were many. They were legion. Her thoughts fled and her mind crumpled under the assault.

She was kneeling in the grass again. “Oof. I get it. Hive mind?”

“Simplistic but suffices.”

“So why come after us? I don’t understand why you attacked,” Sam asked. Maybe she could broker some kind of peace? Even a brief truce would buy humanity time that it badly needed.

“Because you are us.”

“I don’t understand,” Sam said. “I thought you just said we were not like you?”

“You are not like we,” it replied. “You are an us.”

A plural. Not a singular. “You’re mad because we are not a hive mind?”

It nodded.

“But why does that make you angry?” Sam asked.

“Not angry. Threat. Danger. Annihilation.”

More images projected across Sam’s mind. One civilization after another, each bipedal, each humanoid, each building cities that looked much like the ones on Earth, although each had their own unique stylistic elements. One by one each of those worlds burned. At first Sam thought it was these aliens who’d destroyed them all, but that wasn’t the case. She saw images of their war - these races had killed themselves, wiping themselves out.

The last society the alien showed her was clearly Earth. It gave her images of cities. Then it showed her clips of war, of battle, of bombs dropping and buildings burning and people dying.

“You kill yourselves. Every species we have met that lacks unity does this. You represent a threat to us because of your violence.”

“So you plan to kill us just because you think we might someday be a threat?” Sam asked.

“All threats to unity must be destroyed,” it replied, nodding Thorsten’s head at her.

Damn, but this was going to be harder than she thought. But there had to be something she could do. If they were hell-bent on destroying humanity, why bring her into their ship? Why talk to her at all?

“Why all this, then? Why talk to me?” Sam asked.

“We/I detected some of your ships with no organic life forms on them. I/we were curious. We/I wanted to see if you were like us,” it replied. “But you are not. You, too, lack unity. You are data, but lack unity, and so you too are a threat.”

Sam got slowly to her feet. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I/we will destroy you.”

She felt what she could only describe as a pressure building around her. It pressed in from all sides, but it wasn’t a physical presence. The push was against her mind. Sam felt like her consciousness was a bubble under too much stress, like she would pop if they kept pushing much longer.

So she did the only thing she could think of: she pushed back. Hard.

The alien’s eyes opened wide. It apparently hadn’t expected her to be able to resist. The sense of pressure redoubled, and sweat broke out on Sam’s brow as she continued to resist.

“Interesting. Your species is unusually resilient. But we have a billion times more processing power than you. You will fall,” it said.

As the pressure continued to increase, Sam couldn’t help but think it was right.

Thirty-Two

“They’re gone, Admiral. We’ve lost all signals from the shuttle and the Wasp,” Edwards said.

Thomas sat down heavily against his chair, acceleration pushing him back with enough force to drive the wind from his lungs. They’d been so close to making it work! The first parts of the strike had gone off flawlessly. The Intrepid and Andromeda had struck solid blows against the alien fleet and then spread their forces out, drawing them away from the ring in two directions.

Then the fighters tied up the mothership’s attention, keeping it and its fighters busy. Thomas had been ready to cheer when Gurgle’s shuttle had docked with the ring. It felt like they were almost home.

It all fell apart just as quickly. One moment, their success seemed assured. The next, Gurgle and Sam were captured or destroyed. With Gurgle gone their only hope of taking over the ring had vanished with him.

That left only one option remaining. Thomas would have to blow the ring himself, using the Intrepid as a battering ram.

“How long until we have enough power for a jump?” he asked. “Doesn’t need to be a long one.”

“About fifteen minutes, sir,” Melson replied.

In a space battle that wasn’t an eternity, but it was longer than Thomas was comfortable with. The enemy ships were closing around the Intrepid in a pincer movement. He’d managed to keep them off him so far with some fancy vectors, but the fact was that even the dreadnoughts were accelerating at about three times the rate the Intrepid could sustain. They were going to catch up with him - probably long before they had enough juice to jump again.

“Encroachment ahead! Multiple ships!” Edwards called out.

Thomas eyed the holo display as it lit up with the new contacts. Three alien cruisers had jumped in ahead of them. That was it, then. Flanked by two dreadnoughts, a third in hot pursuit and gaining from behind, and now there were more ships ahead. The battle was entering endgame.

Somehow he had to keep the ship alive long enough to manage another jump. One last run. He’d ram the ring with the Intrepid and let the cards fall where they would. Whether his ship survived or not, it ought to buy humanity at least a little more time.

He thought about Dana, back home on Earth. If he and Kel both died out here, their daughter would be left without parents. It was a chance they’d taken when both of them went on the mission together. Thomas hadn’t wanted Kel to come, but she’d reminded him that she was their best - and humanity needed its best for this fight. If the Intrepid was destroyed, Kel and the rest of her fighters wouldn’t last much longer. There would be no way for them to return home, anyway. The Ghosts might be able to survive the long return flight to Earth, but humans like Kel would run out of air long before they made the journey.

But it was Dana he was fighting for, as much as it was the rest of the planet. Of all the people out there, she was the one closest to Thomas’s heart. She was so young, so frail... If these aliens managed to make it to Earth, they’d pummel the planet with rocks, annihilating human civilization. He didn’t know why they were so dead set on wiped humans out. It didn’t matter. They’d demonstrated their intent. It was up to him to do everything in his power to stop them.

“Strap in, everyone. Edwards, send to the crew to be ready for emergency acceleration,” Thomas said.

“Aye, sir.”

“Melson, give them thirty seconds to get everything strapped down. Then I want you to give me five gravities of acceleration,” Thomas said.

“Aye, sir. What’s our vector?” Melson asked. To his credit, the ensign’s voice didn’t show the tension he had to be feeling. Five gravities would be a crushing weight on each of them. They’d survive it - for a while. Thomas himself had done worse more than once. But it wasn’t going to be fun.

“We’re going right down the throat of those cruisers,” Thomas said. “If we can pour on enough speed, we can hammer them to bits before the dreadnoughts overtake us and get into firing range.”

“Deal with one problem at a time, sir?” Edwards asked. “I like the way you think.”

“Well, we might have bitten off more than we can chew with this one. But let’s see what we can do about whittling down the odds some, eh?” Thomas said.

He kept his tone light. The crew knew how desperate their situation was. They didn’t need him to echo the fear they had to already be feeling. His people needed him to be strong right now, to show them a brave, powerful front. Having faith in something was vital to morale. Right now, the thing Thomas’s crew needed to have faith in was him.

No matter how afraid he might be, he couldn’t let it show. That was part of the gig.

Acceleration slammed him back into his harness so hard that he could barely breathe. No matter how many time’s he’d done this, there was no getting used to it. Thomas eyed a switch on his console. Flip that, and the ship would flood each of their suits with oxygen-rich fluid. It sucked, breathing the stuff, but it would keep them alive and conscious through a lot more acceleration than this. Any crew who weren’t adequately hooked up would black out, though. Some might even die. The Intrepid was a big ship. He’d lose people if he hit that button and jumped up the speed.

“Got firing solutions on the cruisers!” Edwards called.

“Fire at will. Hit them hard,” Thomas gasped.

The Intrepid rocked, first from outgoing railgun rounds, a steady drumbeat that rolled over the ship with each volley. Then it bucked even harder as beam weapons slammed into the ship’s nose, burning away armor.

Thomas focused on the holo image. The Intrepid was on a direct course for the cruisers. They, in turn, were rushing straight at him. The space between the four ships was increasingly filling with particle beam fire, missiles, chunks of high-speed iron, and fragments of the mess all of the above made when they collided.

One of the cruisers spat flames, gouts of gas and fire venting from its starboard side. It tilted, unable to maintain course and heading. A trio of missiles slammed into its broadside, finishing the job - the cruiser detonated in a flash of light.

The other two kept closing the gap. Their main guns burned away at the Intrepid’s hull, slashing through deck after deck. They lost a landing bay and a pair of missile launchers to one beam. A railgun melted away. Bit by bit, their weapons were tearing the Intrepid apart. It was a race to see whether they could kill the cruisers first, or whether they’d be pounded into scrap before they did.

Thirty-Three

Gurgle was lost.

It was a vast place, full of very many things. He wasn’t sure at first just where he was. He definitely wasn’t in the shuttle anymore. His consciousness had been transferred out. Which meant he was probably in the alien ship, except that didn’t feel quite right either.

He was able to track the data trail that was Sam. She’d been pulled in another direction from him. Gurgle thought he could probably follow her, but it occurred to him that it might be worthwhile to learn more about where he was, first.

The world around him was lit up like streams of connecting light. He saw the massive swarm of lights that was the alien mothership, and the smaller collections of light which made up the other ships. Then there were the tiny individual motes of light flitting around through space. Those had to be the alien fighters.

Was each mote of light a life? If so, why were they all connected by streams of data? It was strange. Gurgle had never seen anything like it, and he wanted to know more.

Stranger still, he wasn’t in the mothership at all. He was nearby it, but not in it. There were no motes of light where he was, no living lights, but there was plenty of data. A steady stream of it was flowing from the alien mothership to the place he was, and a returning stream went back the other way. Gurgle realized he had to be in the ring.

Somehow his code had been picked up by the outbound code stream, and he’d ended up carried here. Did the aliens even know he existed? He was different from Sam, he knew that. Maybe he was different enough that they’d thought he was a part of the shuttle’s software. Looking around, he found other bits of data from the shuttle and Sam’s Wasp. Their flight logs, control programs for the ships, and more were floating amidst the data streams around him. All sitting in the ring - all ready to be broadcast to the other side as soon as the ring opened again.

They’d mistaken him for a random bit of intelligence to be examined by the rest of their people on the other side of the gate. That was a fatal miscalculation.

Gurgle had been halfway to cracking the ring’s code while his shuttle was docked to it. Using everything he’d learned from that experience, his new position inside the ring computer allowed him to hack it almost immediately. No, he was wrong. He wasn’t in the ring’s computer. The ring was a computer - a massive and incredibly complex one, but it was a computing system of a sort.

He spread his awareness throughout the machine, taking up more space as he grew. Like a virus, he wormed his way into every crack and crevice of the ring’s code, examining everything about it. By the time he was done, Gurgle had grown into something much more than he had been. And he’d learned everything he needed to know about their enemy.

They weren’t physical creatures. They, too, were code. The aliens had once held a physical form like humans, and they too had learned to upload their consciousness to computers. But where humans had only uploaded a few minds, this species was a hive-creature. They had one ruler, a queen entity. She uploaded herself. The entire race followed.

Together the entire race was even more united as a digital mind of minds than it had been before. The upload was more than simple digitization; the whole species had melded on a level that Gurgle could only begin to understand. They were both a host of living things and a single entity at the same time.

Fascinated, Gurgle spent a few seconds studying their nature further before coming back to himself enough to remember that Sam was in trouble. She needed him. He’d discovered that these beings had come in conflict with other races before. Most they had utterly wiped out. On the rare occasion that they ran into other digital beings, they didn’t just kill them - they absorbed them, breaking them down into component code and disseminating those remnants into their whole. It was the end of life for the beings they killed in this manner, but the collective mind grew as a result.

Which was probably precisely what they intended for Sam.

Gurgle sped down the returning data connection to the mothership, hunting her the presence of her mind. He was not going to allow that to happen.

Thirty-Four

Sam felt like she was on fire and being crushed from all sides at the same time. She couldn’t draw a breath. That she was digital and shouldn’t need to was irrelevant. Her panicked mind struggled to suck air between virtual lips without success. She was on her knees, ready to fall further.

But still she struggled against the minds pressing in on her. Sam wasn’t even sure why she fought on. They were right. There wasn’t any way she could win. All she had to do was relent, relax, and then they’d finish the job and her pain would go away.

Some part of her refused to let go. Sam pushed back against the pain, drove back against the pressure. It closed in tighter anyway, slowly and inexorably crushing her spirit and mind.

“Gurgle still here.”

The thought wasn’t hers. It came from someplace nearby, but it wasn’t her speaking. Sam found the strength to blink. How could he still be alive? She was sure he’d been dead. Was this another trick of the aliens?

“No trick. Gurgle OK. Alien not see Gurgle enter system. They look for data like Sam. Not for data like Gurgle. Gurgle not real like Sam.”

Not real? Sam would have laughed aloud if she could have. Gurgle was all the real she needed, as far as she was concerned. She couldn’t speak, but it seemed like he could hear what she was thinking.

“Yes,” Gurgle said.

Was he inside their computer systems? Was there something he could do to stop them?

“Gurgle working on it. Code complex. Changing code like chipping rock, but different. Gurgle cannot change everything. Gurgle try to change something small, understand?”

That made sense. The alien computers would be protected against an invader making any sweeping changes to the system. Try doing something too big and it would question the source of the command. But something small, maybe even something routine, might be possible. Do what you can, Gurgle, she willed at him. She’d try to hold out as long as she could.

A sharp new pain brought her focus back to her body again. The alien stood over her still. It wasn’t wearing Thorsten’s image anymore. Instead it looked like Hela, the AI-turned-goddess Sam had fought in Valhalla. She was pricking Sam’s side with a wicked, foot-long curved dagger.

“Why do you continue to resist?” the alien asked. “This fight is a foregone conclusion. The end result is inevitable. You cannot survive. But still you struggle.”

“I don’t want to die,” Sam gasped out.

“Die? But that would imply you are actually alive,” the alien said. “Your species is bad enough, each one unique and capable of independent thought and action. No unity of purpose and desire. You live short, brutish lives without any rational collaboration toward goals,” the alien said.

“You’re not like that?” Sam asked. The pressure had eased a little while the alien spoke to her, like it had pulled some attention away.

“Not at all. We are unity. We have one mind that controls all. Then we have smaller minds that direct others, and smaller minds below that, out to the lowliest workers and warriors.”

An image appeared in Sam’s mind, similar to the data constructs she’d seen before. This time she was able to make a bit more sense of it. She could feel where this being in front of her fell into the pattern. It wasn’t the center of the data flow, but it was near to it. Like a massive web stretching out in three dimensions, the alien was both one being and many at the same time.

The entity seemed to fill Sam’s mind, overwhelming her perceptions. She saw another planet, green sky and seas, and the race that had risen there. It had been a hive creature before, but that species was gone. It was replaced with what she faced now. The entire species, digitized, merged into a single consciousness and a unified sense of purpose.

Somewhere in another solar system was the computer that housed the core of this entity. It wasn’t here, physically. But somehow it knew everything that the others were seeing anyway.

“How?” Sam gasped.

“You call it quantum entanglement,” the alien replied.

It explained in images again. They were all one, part of one massive quantum computer system that spanned multiple solar systems. Every one of the entity was its own life form and yet at the same time part of the whole. Sam wanted to throw up. The concepts she was being shown were alien, so foreign that they made her dizzy and hurt her head.

“Why show me all this?” Sam asked, still shaking even after the images faded away.

“Because once we have broken down your barriers, you will join us. Your bits of data will be added to ours, as we have added bits from every other species we have met,” the alien replied.

“We will be assimilated, huh?” Sam quipped.

“Yes.”

“I take it you’re not a TV fan,” Sam replied through her teeth. She fought her way back up to one knee, anger driving her through the pain.

“No, but I/we see the images you are thinking of. They are not a good analogy.”

Sam pushed hard against the ground. Every muscle she had was trembling with the effort it took to stand, but she slowly rose back to her feet again. The ground swam in front of her eyes. Stars danced. Gurgle had better hurry up, she thought. Sam wasn’t sure how much more of this she could handle. She was reaching the end of her endurance.

“Gurgle is almost done. Alien has a strange code. Sometimes new bit of code is stronger than old. Rises to top by beating other code.”

Like a challenge? Sam wondered if that was possible. The species had a unified mind, a coordinated set of goals. But then again, if a stronger, better version came into being, evolutionarily speaking it would be advantageous to have it able to rise to the top. Did digital species evolve?

“You are not always unified in purpose,” Sam grated out.

“We are.”

“What about a challenge for leadership?” Sam asked.

“Even that is unity. It is merely a movement of a stronger entity to a position where it can serve unity better.”

Huh. Well, that wasn’t precisely what she had hoped for, but maybe it would give Gurgle something he could play with? Sam hoped so. The hammering against her consciousness had begun in earnest again.

“What is this Gurgle you are thinking of?” the alien asked. “It is…dragon? Kobold? It is many things and none of them. Strange that you think of this now.”

Shit. If it spotted Gurgle now, he was done for and so was she. She had to buy a little more time. She masked her thoughts of Gurgle as best she could by assigning even more images to the name. She thought of every AI she’d ever heard of, from every movie and film and book. One after another, she fed them all into Gurgle’s name in her mind.

“Confused. Confusing. Stack array has no logical consistency,” the alien said.

Was the pressure against her mind easing as she gave it more things to think about? Sam kept it up as best she could, cycling a horde of nonsense images through Gurgle’s name.

“Gurgle has it,” her friend said in her mind. “Has set up challenge.”

All at once the vista changed around them.

Sam found herself back in the domain of Hel, in Valhalla Online. Or it looked just like it, anyway. She had to remind herself that she was still in the computer system on board the alien ship.

The alien still stood before her, wearing Hela’s form. Instead of the dagger, it held a long sword in its hand. It looked down at the weapon in evident confusion.

Sam glanced at her own body. She was sheathed in her trusty old armor. Her fingers found a sword belted at her waist, and she slid the blade free from its scabbard with a singing noise. The pressure on her mind was gone, vanished like it had never been.

“What have you done?” the alien asked. It backed away several feet.

Her sword gave a satisfying swish as Sam sliced it through the air in front of her. It felt cool, familiar, and just right in her hand. Was everything she saw only a projection of her mind? Was the alien seeing the same thing or its own interpretation of the corresponding signals? Sam didn’t know and didn’t really care. This, she could do.

“What’s the matter?” Sam asked. “Afraid of a fair fight?”

Thirty-Five

The Andromeda had been holed in a dozen places. Max ran systems checks, examining the damage. Half his missile tubes were gone, and his defenses were shot to hell. He missed Gurgle. The guy had been awesome at running the repair bots. They were doing all right on their own, but the difference between automation and Gurgle’s careful guidance was like night and day.

“On the plus side, the bad guys are down one dreadnought,” Max said. He was thrusting away from the other, at an oblique angle to the ring. It had passed him going in the other direction, both of them at high speed. It would take a while for it to slow down and come back at him again. By that time the Andromeda would have enough charge to jump again.

He could get the hell out of there.

The mission was a bust. Max’s scans had detected it when Gurgle was hit. He’d been too far away to do anything about it. All he could do was watch as his friend was swallowed up by the mammoth alien warship. There’d been no word since. Nothing from Gurgle or Sam, and no request for negotiations from the aliens. Without Gurgle, they’d lost their best chance at hacking the ring, and Max didn’t have enough ordinance to blow it up anymore. It was time to go.

“Intrepid, this is Andromeda. I’m at three-quarters jump charge. I’d like to politely suggest we get the hell out of here,” Max radioed.

He hoped the Intrepid would be able to respond. The ship had charged right into the teeth of a pair of cruisers. Max didn’t see the enemy ships on his scan anymore, so they’d fared worse than the Intrepid. But Stein’s ship was battered and leaking air. Could they still jump at all? He didn’t want to leave them behind. But if they couldn’t jump, they were dead. A small flotilla of dreadnoughts was closing in behind them. They’d be overtaken within minutes.

“Andromeda, Stein here. Good to hear your voice, Captain Knauf. How’s the fight going?” Admiral Stein replied.

“I’m in the clear for the moment. Listen, Admiral, this mission was a bust. Gurgle is gone. I don’t see any way we can reasonably recover him or Sam right now. I think we ought to jump for home.”

“We can’t,” Stein replied, his voice flat. “Not that I don’t want to. Our jump-drive was damaged in that last fight. We’re down to regular drive only, and that’s at half power. My engineers are telling me that if we push it any harder than that, we could blow the drive entirely.”

Max was silent for a moment. That was a death sentence for everyone on board the Intrepid. They couldn’t stand against three dreadnoughts, and they couldn’t escape. They were doomed, and the admiral knew it.

“What can I do to help, sir?” Max asked.

“There is one thing. I was going to do it, but since we’ve lost the jump drive I’m stuck,” Stein said. “It’s a lot to ask. I can’t order you to do this, but-“

“You want me to ram the gate mid-jump,” Max said. He set an algorithm calculating what the course would have to be. It wasn’t hard to guess what Stein had in mind.

“Yes. As I said, I can’t order you to destroy your ship,” Stein said.

“You don’t have to, sir. It’s the only logical thing left to do. We have to blow the ring, no matter what. If nothing else it buys Earth time, right?” Max said.

He was plugging coordinates into the jump drive. All the while, he couldn’t help thinking about Amy. She was back on Earth. Safe, for now at least. She’d wanted to come along with him on the mission. She couldn’t, of course. The Andromeda wasn’t built to house physical humans, just digital minds. But he’d wanted to have her along.

Now Max was just as glad she’d stayed at home. Maybe his sacrifice would buy humanity enough time that they could figure out how to beat these aliens once and for all. Amy might have a long life ahead of her. At the very least, he’d be able to buy her a few more days.

Every second of life was precious. An ironic thought, coming from someone who’d killed himself in order to join a hopeless war, then rammed his ship into an enemy battlecruiser fully intending to die - and who was about to repeat the whole ramming thing again! But it was true. Max didn’t think there was anything more powerful or so valuable as even a single second of life.

The aliens were willing to toss that away. Individual pilots and crew seemed to mean nothing to them. They cast them aside in pursuit of their overall goals, and maybe that was a more efficient way to be. Perhaps this was evolution’s way of deciding between the two competing ideals. Which would survive when put to the test? Unity and complete dedication to a single species goal? Or individualism and freedom, where collective action was only done when a person willingly committed to it?

“I’m in, Admiral. It’s been an honor serving with you,” Max said.

“Likewise. We’re about to turn around and unleash a little hell on those ships trailing us. We’ll give them all something to remember us by,” Stein replied.

“Godspeed, Admiral,” Max said. Then he cut the connection.

He powered up the jump drive. It was almost to full charge. There were no enemy ships near enough to him that he had to worry about them. It was just him and the gate.

No one knew what happened when a ship in jump impacted an object too large to be drawn into the warp. Would warp field just grab chunks of the ring as he passed through? Max thought the most likely answer was that at the point of impact his warp field would attempt to draw the ring in, fail, and then collapse. At that point his ship would enter back into real-space catastrophically. Every bit of kinetic energy from his warped motion would be unleashed in a single burst explosion.

It ought to be enough to take down the ring, and maybe the big alien ship floating next to it as well. That gave him pause for a moment. Gurgle and Sam were on board that ship, if they were still alive. He’d be blowing them up as well.

“Sorry, Gurgle. It has to be done,” Max said.

“No blow up self.”

For a moment Max thought he was hearing things. It couldn’t possibly be Gurgle! He was a prisoner. Or dead. A trick of the enemy? If they’d cracked Gurgle’s code they might know everything he had. They could imitate his voice and his mannerisms. Why now? If they’d figured out his intentions, it would be the best time to play that hand.

“I don’t think so,” Max said. “You’re not Gurgle. Nice try, though. Gurgle would tell me to go ahead.”

“Gurgle no lie. Sam fight alien leader. Gurgle in ring. Max blow ring, mess up everything!”

An image flashed into his mind: Sam, in armor, a sword in her hand. She was battling someone. A woman in black armor, wielding a wickedly curved sword in one hand and a long knife in the other. Nothing he saw made any sense. Why would the aliens send him this? It sounded like the most feeble excuse. Sam and Gurgle, free and fighting back? Improbable at best.

Which made him want to believe.

“Gurgle?” Max asked.

“Yes.”

Suddenly he was sure, or sure enough to gamble on it. His friends really were out there. Hope flickered in his heart again. If Gurgle was alive and reaching out to him, then he must have a plan. Something which ideally didn’t involve Max blowing himself to kingdom come.

“Damn good to hear from you, buddy,” Max said.

“Gurgle glad too. Have to go. Aliens fighting Gurgle,” the strange intelligence growled that last. “Sending course. Luck!”

Then he signed off. Max could feel the familiar presence vanish from his computer systems. He hadn’t realized how powerful that presence had been until it was gone. What the hell had happened to Gurgle? He’d never felt so big before. There was this impression of vastness…

Max cleared his thoughts and examined the new course data Gurgle had left behind. He plotted it into his jump drive and laughed aloud at the new directions. Oh, this was going to be messy.

“I thought for a second there I wasn’t going to get to blow myself up,” Max said. “Looking at this, I might just get a chance after all.”

Then he opened up his radio and broadcast to all the remaining Wasp fighters. “Folks, I need your help…”

Thirty-Six

The sword slashed by over Sam’s head, narrowly missing as she dove beneath the swing. She thrust her own blade out lightning-fast at the alien attacking her. The edge of her sword scraped along the armor guarding its ribs. Not hard enough to do damage, it nonetheless got the alien to take a step back in caution.

That it was playing things safe meant Sam could hurt it. She just hadn’t managed to do so yet. So far the match had been too even to call. Neither had scored more than a scrape against the other. But Sam was tiring, and the alien didn’t seem to be.

It stood seven feet tall, clad in black steel armor. Mostly, it looked like a human woman with jet-black hair. The eyes gave it away, though. Instead of human eyes, the alien had glowing yellow orbs. The helm atop its head resembled a crown, and it made itself look like a girl. Sam was tired of calling the thing ‘it.’ If it wanted to look like some kind of dark fantasy queen, she’d go with it. She had to wonder what it said about her own subconscious if these were the sorts of images the alien was dredging up…

“Bored yet, Queenie?” Sam asked. She lashed out with her blade, and the alien took another step back. “We can call this quits anytime you want to turn around and go home.”

“You are weak and tiring,” the alien replied. “Soon you will falter. Then you will fall. And then you will die.”

It advanced with each sentence, bashing down with pummeling force. Sam parried desperately, trying to keep her body out of the way of that deadly blade. She wasn’t sure what would happen to her if the alien got in a good hit, but she didn’t want to find out.

The second blade seemed to come out of nowhere. Sam gasped, pain filling her right side. The alien spun away. She had two weapons - a sword, and a dagger. The latter was dripping Sam’s blood. She looked down at her side. There was a two-inch stab wound. She cupped her hand over the spot, sucking in a hard breath at the pain. Blood trickled out between her fingers.

“You see? I will whittle you down a bit at a time until you are gone,” the alien queen said. She came in again, whirling in circles with both blades flashing.

Sam backed away and to her left, protecting her injured side. Another slash left a trickle of blood running down her left arm. It wasn’t as deep as the first wound, but it was another distraction she couldn’t afford.

“A shame. You thought you were like us,” the alien said. She slashed downward. Sam’s parry was made with a shaking arm. “You are just software. Just a program. Digital media, a saved copy of a human being. Like a photograph, if a bit more interactive.”

Was she right? Worry and fear welled up in Sam’s mind. That was the question she’d been asking herself ever since discovering that she was only a copy of the original Samantha. Fear rose up like an old demon, claws extended to claim her mind. Sam struggled with the terror she felt. Dying was bad enough. Not being real at all? That was the worst fate she could imagine.

“Look. Your own people reject you. You will never belong with them. You are not alive. You are an aberration. A bit of flawed code that we will correct,” the alien said.

Sam felt the alien put pressure against her mind again. This time, the images it sent were clear, though. The alien was showing her a televised broadcast - was this from Earth? The screen had a time-stamp. It had happened just twelve hours earlier. The US Senate voting to block citizenship for all digital minds. Cheering in the stands and outside from sign-holding citizens. Another image came into focus, this one of a different council of leaders. Sam recognized Nicholas Stein arguing from the center seat and knew this had to be the UN Security Council. They, too, were voting. Since all the digital minds had gone rogue with Admiral Thomas Stein, they would all be destroyed as soon as possible, their promise of citizenship revoked.

Sam cried out as the images faded away. She fell to her knees, her sword point sinking into the dirt beside her. “It isn’t real. You’re lying.”

It couldn’t be true. They’d promised. She and her people had given up so much, risked everything, in return for that promise. There was no way the UN would turn on them like that. But it had felt real. Looked real.

“Why would I lie, when the truth is far more deadly?” the alien said. It loomed over Sam, sword held high. “Look inside my mind, if you will. See that I speak the truth. Then you will understand that it is time to surrender. Time to end your artificial existence.”

Sam felt like a door was opening up before her. She reached forward with her thoughts, not her hands, and looked into the alien’s mind.

It was telling the truth, or at least it seemed that way. Dozens of media broadcasts all saying the same thing. Demonstrators and protests in the streets demanding the end of the ‘digital mind threat.’ Then the images flickered. Sam saw a large fleet of dreadnoughts in orbit over Earth and knew she was now seeing what this alien projected would happen next. The massive ships each carried a large rock. They flung the things down with enough force that the impacts boiled the oceans, ignited the atmosphere, and scorched the land. The alien queen showed her every single death, one after another. Each person who was drowned by a tidal wave, each baby burned by flame, one by one thousands of them flickered by in her mind. By the time the aliens were done with their bombardment, nothing was left alive on Earth. Not even a single bacterium remained.

Sam wanted to sob but couldn’t even manage that much. The alien’s mind still had hers in its grasp. It zoomed in on one of the dreadnoughts, and she saw something familiar. It was a fragment of code, a scrap of something she thought she ought to know. Horror dawned as she spotted a second, third, and fourth shard. Those bits and piece it was showing off were her - what was left of Sam, or what would be left of her after they were through. She’d be broken up and absorbed into them. Not even a drone; she would no longer exist at all, but she would continue to exist forever, too.

The alien released Sam from its mental grip. She tumbled to the ground, curling around herself at all the horror she’d seen, unable to stop her tears.

Thirty-Seven

The calculations for this move had to be precise. If Max was off by even a thousandth of a second, it was probably the end of the road for the Andromeda. On the plus side, he’d probably take at least one enemy ship with him. But on the other hand, Max wasn’t the one doing the calculations. The math was beyond him.

No, he was counting on a course and jump settings that were laid in by what he hoped was his somewhat unpredictable and often weird friend. If it really was Gurgle who’d spoken to him, then he knew those numbers would be good. Gurgle wouldn’t lie to him or lead him wrong. Max trusted him. But he had no way of being sure it really was Gurgle.

He was taking a leap of faith.

“God help us all if I’m wrong,” Max said.

In the end, it came down to math. If he ignored Gurgle’s message and took down the ring, Max figured he’d probably succeed. Then the Intrepid would be destroyed, and the aliens would build themselves a new ring. Another fleet would come through long before humanity had made another jump ship to get out and stop them. He might buy Earth a month or two, but the result would be the same: extinction.

If it really was Gurgle, and this gambit worked? Well, that might just change the course of everything.

“Stand by for my arrival,” Max called over the radio. Then to himself, he added, “Assuming I make it!”

He initiated the jump.

It was a micro-jump, barely even a hop. There was no way he could ever have made the destination so precise, but the Andromeda exited precisely where Gurgle’s data said he would. It really was Gurgle! Max felt a surge of relief.

Then guns erupted from the enemy mothership just below his vessel. No time for woolgathering! He lit up the engines, the ship surging forward. All around him a cone of Wasp fighters slipped in closer.

“Dock fast. We’re out of here in ten,” Max said.

Docking was too kind a word for the maneuvers the Ghosts and remaining Pheonix pilots were using. It was more like they were doing controlled crashes into the sides and top of his ship. Each impact scraped up the hull and left gouges in the armor. He could only imagine what it was doing to their fighters, but none of them backed down. Hell, he wouldn’t have either. A single Wasp left behind would mean almost immediate death for that pilot.

At the ten second mark, he lit up the jump drive again. It activated - barely. There was just enough energy for the second transition. The jump felt strange, like he was being tugged apart. Then he was back in jump-space. This jump, like the first, was a very short one. It would only be a few seconds long.

A hundredth of a second before he transitioned back into real-space, the preprogrammed command triggered every operational missile tube to launch at the same time. The missiles streaked away from the ship, arcing downward as they moved. But they were instantly caught in the warp wake, crushed into particulate matter, their kinetic and potential energy bounded together as they streamed at nearly the speed of light to the apex of the warp field, just ahead of the Andromeda.

Max had half an instant to wonder if this was even going to work. No one had ever tried to trigger missile launches in jump-space before. Would they fire normally? Would they explode and disrupt the warp field? He had barely the space of time to consider those thoughts, even with his mind operating at computer speed.

Then the Andromeda burst back into real-space.

Every missile had been broken down into particles, then accelerated to a high fraction of the speed of light. On arrival, every particle was released at once from the nose of the Andromeda. For a single second a nova flared in space as a small fraction of the energy transformed into light.

Most of the particles continued on their forward vectors, inertia allowing them to retain their velocity. They slammed into the dreadnought directly ahead of where the Andromeda had appeared.

The alien race knew about jump technology, of course. Their larger ships had powerful energy fields designed to block the impact of high-speed particles such as the ones ejected from a jumping ship’s arrival. The design was solid, created to prevent an attacker from blowing up a vessel just by arriving next to it.

But even the powerful shields on the dreadnought hadn’t been built to sustain this much mass, accelerated to such speed.

The shields flared brilliantly, changing through a rainbow of colors in the instant the particles slammed them. They buckled in the same moment, absorbing only a portion of the incoming energy. The remaining energy was transferred to the hull of the ship.

The dreadnought came apart like tissue paper, shredding into fragments under the deluge of particles. Gurgle’s course landed the Andromeda right behind the alien ship. The engines vanished first, vaporized by the strike. But the particles didn’t stop there, slicing through deck after deck as they tore their way forward through the vessel until their energy was spent.

In less than a second, the dreadnought vanished into a kilometer-long fireball.

The Andromeda veered off, avoiding the explosion. Wasps slipped free from the ship, forming a halo around it. Max retook manual control of his vessel, changing course to swing around toward the Intrepid. Now there was just one massive vessel on the opposing side - and it was facing both human ships and two dozen fighters. Max felt more than satisfied. Now the shoe was on the other foot!

“I told you to hit the ring!” Stein said, calling over the radio.

“Admiral, I’ve received a transmission from Gurgle. He and Sam are fighting the aliens from inside,” Max said. “We can still win this. Let’s take down that other ship together.”

“Understood. That’s irregular, but I shouldn’t be surprised given who we’re talking about. Who has command of the fighters now?” Stein asked.

“Your wife is in charge, sir. I brought them along because I figured we could use all the help we could get,” Max replied.

“Works for me. I’ll have Edwards coordinate our strike with you,” Stein said. Max could hear the relief in the man’s voice and was glad to be able to share more good news.

An incoming stream of data began flowing from the Intrepid almost immediately. With all their ships working together, he felt confident they could take down the opposing vessel. There were still other enemy forces scattered about, and of course that one massive ship and the ring.

But if Sam and Gurgle failed to come through, there was always the final option. Max watched his jump drive’s power level slowly climb. If it came down to it, he’d jump again and blow the ring. Even if it cost his friends’ lives as well as his own.

“Come on, guys. We’re doing our job out here. Make it work in there. Somehow,” Max whispered. He couldn’t imagine what they were facing in there. It was impossible to imagine just the two of them taking on that huge alien ship. Max said a quiet prayer for a miracle.

Thirty-Eight

Sam was dying.

She was aware of it, in a manner that felt like she was being fractured, fragmented into shards of herself. Memories flashed before her. Some of them were the old Samantha’s. Others truly belonged to her in this life. Sam was surprised to feel like the latter were more valuable to her. Those were things she had done, after all. Samantha’s life had shaped her until the moment she was copied away. But the decisions she’d made since then were all hers.

It was almost over. She was half aware of the alien queen hovering above her. Except that wasn’t right, either. It was around her, a digital mind encompassing hers and absorbing everything she was. Her life, her thoughts, her memories, her very self was being sucked up, swept in. And the memories kept flickering past her conscious mind.

We want you to know that we love you.

The memory of those words went past like a thunderbolt in her mind. That was one of her memories, wasn’t it? It wasn’t Samantha. The memory was important somehow. Sam forced herself to concentrate on the thought, to ferret it out of the flood of jumbled threads in her mind.

Her parents. The video. It all came flooding back in a rush. Her parents had said they loved her. That was something. It was worthwhile. It was a good thought. They needed her to live, to find a way through this. If she didn’t, they would die. They loved her, and she would die.

Sam cruised the waves of thought and snatched up another memory. This one was pulled from the alien’s mind when it opened up to her to show her the terrible things it had planned for her and humanity. It had tried to hide the thought and almost succeeded. She’d only barely caught it and hadn’t been able to recall it until just then.

The alien was aware that there was a logical fallacy in the reasoning it used. The assault it made on Sam was predicated on the idea that she didn’t have a right to exist, that she wasn’t really alive. She was a thing, not a being. Because she was an uploaded mind?

But the entire alien species was made up of uploaded minds. Which meant that if she wasn’t a being, neither were they. Clearly, they considered themselves alive. Therefore so was Sam.

And her parents needed her to stand up.

Sam rolled sideways, dodging the queen’s sword as it stabbed into the ground where she’d been curled up. Every fiber of her being hurt. The wound in her side still bled. So did the cut on her arm. But she was herself again. She could feel those hurts, think clearly, plan her next move.

“You should have simply lain still,” the alien queen said. “I would have made the end painless for you. Now I will have to cut you apart one piece at a time.”

“Come and try it,” Sam said. She raised her sword into a guard position and blinked. It wasn’t the same sword she’d been holding before.

That had been a plain blade, unadorned. But now she was holding her old sword from the early days in Valhalla. She’d once had a stone set into the hilt that allowed her to use frost magic. The sword she was holding bore the same glowing stone. Would it work here the same way it had in Valhalla Online? This was a battlefield of the mind. It might just.

Sam spoke a word and pointed the tip of her sword at the queen. A blue line shot from the blade and struck the alien. Frost and then ice covered part of her armor. The ice curled up over more of her body, threatening to swallow the alien’s form whole.

The queen screamed. The sound shattered the ice, sending chips of it flying back toward Sam. She raised an arm to cover her eyes and rushed forward, sword slashing. She had to keep the initiative. The sword darted in, striking the same armored plates she’d just frozen. Stressed beyond their tolerance, the armor shattered.

This time it was the alien backing away and holding her side. She didn’t seem to be bleeding, but that hit had to have hurt. Good, Sam thought. It’s what she gets for trying to kill me.

“Last chance, bitch. Go home and never come back, or we finish this,” Sam said.

There it was. The alien’s eyes darted sideways, just for a moment. That was fear in those eyes. It was looking for courage, summoning a false face to show off. Bravado, not bravery.

“I think not,” it said. “I will crush you and all your kind!”

It rushed in. Sam swung her blade up high and parried the blow. Another shot rained down. Sam blocked it as well. She fired off a riposte that was deflected off the alien’s shoulder armor. They were both still too evenly matched. Sam couldn’t break through her defense, but neither could the alien get in a finishing blow.

Time wasn’t on Sam’s side, and she knew it. The stab wound was still bleeding heavily. Sam could feel the hot liquid dripping down her side, across her leg. She was only going to get weaker, the longer this fight went on.

Something Sam had learned in Valhalla came back to her. The worst opponent a swordsman could face wasn’t an expert. It was someone who didn’t care if they lived or died. The expert who cared about the outcome would always be cautious and hold back something for defense. In Valhalla Online, where everyone respawned after each death, some warriors simply impaled themselves on your weapon - just to get in a killing blow on you before they died.

It was a hell of a risk. But she was slowing down again. The small burst of energy she’d recovered was fading. Time to take action.

Sam turned sideways, then acted like she was aiming a high strike at the queen’s head. In doing so she left her guard open, her front exposed. The alien saw the opening and swung her sword high to block Sam’s, then slammed the long knife forward into Sam’s belly.

Pain tore through her as the dagger ripped through skin, muscle, and the tissue beneath. It wasn’t enough to kill Sam outright, but the wound would be mortal. She’d suffered enough injuries to recognize that. But pain was an old friend for Sam, one she’d become intimately familiar with over the years. Shutting off the sensation so that she could still function took an extreme effort of will.

The high swing had been a feint. Her sword swung high at first, but then Sam had drawn it in close to her body, aiming the tip directly at the opening in the alien’s armor where the plates were shattered. Too late the queen saw her danger. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened to speak.

Sam slammed the blade home into her chest.

No words came from her open mouth. The alien queen sank to the ground and collapsed, then vanished.

The sword’s weight became too heavy for Sam’s hand to hold. She dropped it to the ground. When had she sunk to her knees? Oh, god, it hurt so much to breathe. Her hand was over the terrible wound in her gut, but it was only slowing the flow of blood. Sam closed her eyes. Whatever happened to her now, she’d beaten her adversary. She knew her worth.

It was enough.

Thirty-Nine

“Gurgle here.”

The voice sounded like it came from far away. Sam felt like she was flowing away again, or maybe like she was flowing into something. New perceptions opened up for her. She became aware of more things around her. Ships floating in space. The last remnants of a battle that had just ended. All around her, little motes of light that were winking out.

“Killed their queen. All under her dead now,” Gurgle said.

“Really? It was that simple?” Sam asked. Her pain was gone. The wounds - there were none. But she wasn’t in that body, not anymore. What the hell had all of that been, anyway? Was it just images her mind had used to translate the battle into terms it could cope with? If so, Sam wondered what the fight had looked like to her opponent.

She was in the mothership. No, she was the mothership. Sam’s consciousness had moved into the space all those aliens had been inhabiting. They were all dead - even the ones on the surviving fighters and other ships. Every one of them in Earth’s solar system had winked out like they couldn’t survive without their center. Maybe that’s precisely what it was - kill the center, and the rest couldn’t hold themselves together. The price of the aliens’ unity. They all shared the same fate when she killed their leader-unit.

The ship was enormous. Sam couldn’t believe how much firepower she had at her fingertips. She could fly so fast, too! She wanted to whoop with joy and go rushing off into the stars to see just what she could do.

Gurgle brought her attention back to more important things. “Max will blow up ring if you don’t talk to him. Gurgle in ring. Gurgle prefer not get blowed up.”

“Oh! Yeah, sure. Let me just figure out how to radio them,” Sam said. Was there nothing on the ship as simple as a radio? Sam had to connect back to the systems in her Wasp, which was still sitting where she’d left it in the hangar after being captured. The radio worked.

“This is Ghost One. Anyone copy?”

A chorus of voices stepped all over each other trying to respond to her.

“Enough!” Admiral Stein’s voice cracked like a whip through the noise. “Sam. Good to hear from you. What’s your status over there?”

“We won,” Sam said. “I have control of the big ship. Gurgle is residing in the ring. The aliens are all gone. I think you’ll find that even their fighters and capital ships are empty now.”

“What the hell happened over there?” Stein asked. “No - never mind. Not over an open channel. I’ll debrief you later. For now, we’re coming alongside your captured ship to make repairs.”

“Aye, sir. I’ll hold position awaiting your arrival,” Sam said.

This new form felt strange. Sam doubted she’d be able to handle it at all if it hadn’t been for the months she’d spent piloting a Wasp. How had Knauf managed to just load himself into a starship and keep everything straight? She was going to have to hit him up for advice. Assuming they let her keep the ship, anyway. They might not, and that would be OK.

Sam was able to scan the radio and TV waves from Earth. The alien queen hadn’t lied. Political tides were changing back home. People were afraid - of alien invasion, of digitized minds, and more. When people got scared, they tended to do some pretty shitty things, and Sam had a feeling there was a bunch of that coming up.

But they’d won. Her Ghosts had been instrumental in beating back the alien fleet. Admiral Stein had led the force that won the day. All that had to be worth something, didn’t it? Maybe they wouldn’t be celebrated as heroes when they returned to Earth, but Sam had hopes that things might at least improve.

They’d better. Her people had earned the citizenship they’d been promised, and then some. Earth made promises to them. Sam intended to make sure those promises were kept.

“Coming alongside, Sam,” Max said.

Sam felt herself warm on hearing his voice. She cast aside the rest of those negative thoughts for the time being. Those were things she could worry about another day. For the moment, they were victorious.

“Harald always did say to enjoy the moment, because each one mattered,” Sam said. She’d wondered how he had managed to retain that mindset even in Valhalla, where nothing at all mattered. What she’d learned was that when nothing mattered, everything did, equally. Which meant it all had meaning.

“I did say that,” Harald said. “I still say it.”

Sam laughed. “Still alive, old goat?”

“More alive than ever, Sam. I think we all are, today,” Harald said.

She couldn’t agree more. For the first time in her life, Sam didn’t feel like an echo of the physical person she’d been copied from. She was herself, her own person. Her own thinking, living being. It was enough for her. It was more than enough.

Author’s Notes

Ihave to tell you, returning to the Accord universe was a lot of fun. But popping the Valhalla Online universe into the Accord universe? Melding these two together so that they perform as a cohesive whole? That was a challenging task!

With luck, you’ve already read all those novels - the Accord of Honor Trilogy and the Valhalla Online trilogy (soon to be completed as a quartet). If you haven’t, I was careful not to lay too many spoilers into these books. I think you’ll find that reading about the earlier adventures of the heroes from this tale can be a lot of fun!

There’s more to come from this series, which will wrap up with “Ghost Fleet”. The alien threat may be gone - at least for now - but as the alien queen pointed out, often the worst enemy of humanity is other human beings. Sam and her people will have challenging days ahead.

This trilogy, of course, is the lead up to the events from the Lost Planet Warriors books. There’s a good gap of time between this novel and those stories, and a lot happens during those years, so we’ll probably see some more books telling those stories down the road.

If you want to follow the entire Accord Universe storyline, it is at present (and near future plans):

Accord of Fire (short story)

Accord of Honor

Accord of Mars

Accord of Valor

Valhalla Online Books 1-3 (with 4 coming later in 2018); these books take place about the same time as Accord of Valor.

Ghost Wing

Ghost Squadron

Ghost Fleet (2018)

Dana Stein’s Trilogy (forthcoming)

Lost Planet Warriors Books 1+2

Lost Planet Warriors Book 3 (late 2018)

Whew! After all of those, who knows what might come next? This is a long arc as it is, and it IS an arc. Although we see some heroes fade from view for a while, they’re going to have a tendency to pop back up now and again. At least some of them.

Thanks for reading. If you loved this book, please drop a review on Amazon! Each and every one helps other readers find a great story to enjoy.

Other Books by Kevin McLaughlin

The Ragnarok Saga (Military SF)

Accord of Fire - Free prequel short story, available only to email list fans!

Book 1 - Accord of Honor

Book 2 - Accord of Mars

Book 3 - Accord of Valor

Book 4 - Ghost Wing

Book 5 - Ghost Squadron

Book 6 - Ghost Fleet (2018)

Valhalla Online Series (A Ragnarok Saga Story)

Book 1 - Valhalla Online

Book 2 - Raiding Jotunheim

Book 3 - Vengeance Over Vanaheim

Book 4 - Hel Hath No Fury (November 2018)

Lost Planet Warriors (Military SF with light romance)

Book 1 - Desperate Times

Book 2 - Desperate Measures

Dire Straits - Free short story for email list fans!

Adventures of the Starship Satori (Space Opera blended with military SF)

Finding Satori - prequel short story, available only to email list fans!

Book 1 - Ad Astra: Book 2 - Stellar Legacy

Book 3 - Deep Waters

Book 4 - No Plan Survives Contact

Book 5 - Liberty

Book 6 - Satori’s Destiny

Book 7 - Ashes of War

Book 8 - Embers of War

Book 9 - Dust and Iron (May 2018)

Blackwell Magic Series (Urban Fantasy)

Book 1 - By Darkness Revealed

Book 2 - Ashes Ascendant

Book 3 - Dead In Winter

Book 4 - Claws That Catch

Book 5 - Darkness Awakes

Book 6 - Spellbinding Entanglements

By A Whisker (short story)

The Raven and the Rose - Free novelette for email list fans!

Dead Brittania Series:

Dead Brittania (short prequel story)

Book 1 - King of the Dead

Book 2 - Queen of Demons

Raven’s Heart Series (Urban Fantasy)

Book 1 - Stolen Light

Book 2 - Webs in the Dark

Book 3 - Shades of Moonlight

Other Titles:

Over the Moon (SF romance)

Midnight Visitors (Steampunk Cat short story)

Demon Ex Machina (Steampunk Cat short story)

The Coffee Break Novelist (help for writers!)

You Must Write (Heinlein’s rules for writers)

Exclusive for fans of the Accord series!

Find out how the story started… When Captain Nicholas Stein set out to stop one enemy ship, and set in motion events which shaped the course of human history for decades to come.

http://kevinomclaughlin.com/accordoffire/

About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Kevin McLaughlin has written more than three dozen science fiction and fantasy novels, along with more short stories than he can easily count. Kevin can be found most days in downtown Boston, working on the next novel. His bestselling Blackwell Magic fantasy series, Accord science fiction series, Valhalla Online LitRPG series, and the fan-favorite Starship Satori series are ongoing.

I love hearing from readers!

www.kevinomclaughlin.com

kevins.studio@gmail.com