“We got incoming!!!”
The frantic yell from the Cockpit snatched the attention of everyone in the less than smoothly ascending shuttle.
Alex Collins quickly stepped toward the shuttle’s cockpit door, still in his armor but with his helmets face plate open. “From where.” His crips tone left little in the way of conversationalism.
“177 by 228. I pushed out departure to give the stragglers from the hospital time… Now we have become the stragglers. The rest of the shuttles are inside fighter cover, we are…” The man sputtered.
“Out of formation… Give us everything you can Lieutenant. Link me into the coms and get me Tharsis.” Collins ordered, quickly receiving the tell-tale beep from his suit.
*USN Tharsis, Please state your…*
“This is Captain Alex Collins. I and multiple injured are on the last hospital shuttle from the surface. I need..” Collins paused as the first impact from incoming fire slammed into the shuttles shields. “I need immediate cover, we have incoming. I repeat, enemy fighters incoming I need immediate co…”
Collins was interrupted by a crackle on the radio and a strange double voice that sounded both male and female.
*Transmitting shuttle. Immediate turn 338 by 075, hard burn, no delay* the resonate double tone stated with a firmness that left the shuttle pilot responding even before the transmission was complete. The maneuver bore immediate fruit as a pair of plasma charges sailed wide flaring the shields only slightly as they glanced off instead of impacting directly.
*Unidentified transmission, this is a secure frequency. Identify yourself immediately! * came the irate response from Tharsis. There came no immediate response, but Collins closed his helmet and linked his hud with the shuttle’s full spectrum sensors just in time to see a pair of vanta black shapes streak past the shuttle burning hard in the opposite direction. Moments later a salvo of no less than 8 missiles streaked out, quickly producing their own puffs of violence as the Heat-seeking ordinance found their target. Collins was still trying to figure out who were his unexpected benefactors when the pair of stealth fighters slipped up alongside the shuttle in close formation.
*We are Ivar and Martina Tras in command of USN Sombra and USN R’Cari. Incoming threats neutralized. Shuttle, you may return to course, you have us the rest of the way.* came that strange resonating double voice. The shuttle pilot slowly arced his course back toward Tharsis before looking out to stare at the shuttle’s Salvation. The void-born wraiths kept pace easily, effortlessly loping along beside the shuttle until the three of them reached the shuttle.
Tharsis quickly cleared all three of them into the hanger bay containing the rest of the shuttles and a few of the Raptors that had defended them. Alex lumbered down the shuttle's ramp last, shaking the hand of the shuttle pilot who had risked everything to give him time to get everyone out. The two Stealth fighters landed astride the shuttle. They were very obviously bigger than the mix of Raptors and Rangers that made up Tharsis hybrid complement. Two figures exited the crafts, ignoring the ladder and simply dropping to the ground in the lighter “galactic standard” gravity that all ships in this part of space used to accommodate as many species as possible. Dozer, all 500 lbs of him and armor in normal gravity, had to watch his steps lest he vault himself to the ceiling.
Ivar and Martina retracted their helmets, faces etched in shock at the sight of Collins, “Dozer?!” Martina exclaimed sprinting over to him for a quick hug. Ivar smirked as he followed behind, giving the man a quick handshake. They had both met Alex shortly after Celest was towed back to Delmar space.
“Well, Shit. Dozer, you were in that thing?” He followed up. Noticing the other pilots slowly walking over to see the new arrivals. It was about an eighty/ twenty split, Human and Delmar; and it made Ivar smile internally seeing more of his people joining the elite ranks of beings capable of flying Human starfighters. For the first time in memory, Delmar had iterated on their venerable Ranger design. The “Ranger 23” looked almost identical to its predecessor, but it was built to more… Human… performance tolerances. The number of his people who had successfully undergone the grueling and dangerous training to push themselves this far were few, but their numbers were slowly growing.
“Unfortunately, how the hell did you even get here. I thought you were off galivanting around the edge of the system.” Collins asked.
“We’ve been watching the whole thing. The moment we saw what was happening, Captain Grarzia, Cory, released us on ahead. We can move fast when we want to, but we almost didn’t make it.” Ivar explained before being tackled by one of the Delmar pilots.
“Holy Shit, McLovin! Where did you burn in from!” Ja’krin, one of the original 2 pilots that had met Mac in the air those years ago playfully grappled with Ivar for a moment before relenting with a manhug.
“Ja’k? Where did you come from!” Ivar’s surprise made the younger man chuckle. “I thought you were still 303.”
“Oh, I am,” Ja’krin answered, “but the call came out, and I got my 8 H.G. rating a few days prior. I’m attached to Tharsis until this whole mess with Rawkir is dealt with.”
“Buzz, this your old commander?” one of the Human pilots, with captain’s insignia on his uniform, stepped up.
“Captain,” Ja’krin snapped off a quick salute, “Yup, Ivar Tras. The crazy motherfucker who lead 303 during the Devoted attack. McLovin here was the first of us 303 boys to make the cut. Ivar, meet Captain Horace “Howler” Alveretti. I’de say he is the crazies Human I know, but I’ve met BigMac so….” Ja’krin grinned as two or three humans snorted in unison, including the captain.”
“Nice to meet you, Captain.” Ivar nodded to the man, “How did you make out with the rest of the shuttles.”
“We lost one, 15 souls. Vorath asshole got clipped on his way in and decided to Kamikaze.” Horace answered with solemn nods all around. Howler brightened visibly after a moment, “Other than that, we made out alright. Buzz here got his fourth and fifth victory. Your boys an ace now.” A series of howling cheers from surrounding pilots accompanied the announcement.
“Dozer, did you know any of them?” Ivar asked, clamping a hand on the shoulder plate of Collin’s armor
“No, I was sent to help evacuate. I lost a man, Bruce my grenadier, but he never made it to the shuttle.” Alex offered. “I should go, I need to check in with Command, and pay a visit... Thanks for the Save Ivar, I owe you something expensive and high proof.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“You don’t, but I’ll drink it all the same.” Ivar shook Alex’s hand before the massive armor-laden Marine lumbered off.
“So, Buzz huh? How did that happen.” Ivar asked Ja’krin.
“Howler got me drunk, then I had a…. small incident with a trimmer.” Ja’krin blushed slightly at Ivar’s confusion.
“Your hair grew back nicely enough.” Ivar offered.
“Uh… That’s not where the Trimmer accident happened…” Ja’krin said with a resigned laugh. Martina broke down into a burst of snorting giggled and Ivar’s eyes widened as he put it together before being overcome by a belly laugh.
“That’ll do it. Common, Let’s get some grub.” Ivar offered upon regaining control of himself, “I haven’t had anything hot to eat today. Let me just get settled with the Deck Chief.”
“Would love to, we’ll go find us a table, meet you in the mess,” Ja’krin turned to Martina.
“It’s a plan, I’m starving!” she admitted. “Common, I need all the details. Ace and all. Madre’ You’ve been busy.” She began as they headed for the mess.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Centarus sat on the bridge of his flag ship. His captain was proving his worth, two more Delmar heavy cruisers had fallen to his guns, and one of those Human destroyers had been driven from the field by his flag ship alone. The Human vessels were annoyingly using the planet itself as an emplacement, forcing his vessels to crest the horizon to push their advance. It was slow going, but now he had what he needed to recover his kin on the ground. “Send the shuttles, Message the troops. Initiate Insidias protocol and Prepare for Transport.”
“Received and confirmed, Centarus. Shuttles have departed.” The communications crewmen reported. Centarus watched the shuttles descend, covered by his new formations and the screen and the combined surviving fighters from both fleets. He could see the reconnaissance data showing the patrol routes of the enemy fighters. They were protecting their own forces, but no longer venturing into enemy airspace. Something was off. He had seen those fighters in action. He knew what they were capable of… ‘I don’t like this’. “Sensors, give me a long-range scan. As deep as you can go into the void.” He rumbled. It would take time for the scan to run. Until then, He focused on culling more of his enemy from orbit.
He could find none… It was as if the Unity and Human fleets were hiding. Over the next few hours, his flag ship discharged its main armament less than a dozen times, and Centarus watched as a steady stream of shuttles pulled his troops and what resources he could acquire from the planet’s surface. His plan was going well. It would not be long before he was ready to cripple the planets ecosystem and depart. It was not a successful invasion, but denying Rawkir’s manufacturing and technological base to the Unity would give his expeditionary forces the breathing room to solidify their footholds until the main fleet arrived. Still, something gnawed at the back of his mind. After the grueling combat he had experienced at the hands of the Humans, this felt too easy.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Alex Collins stepped into Tharsis’ infirmary-turned-triage ward. The walking wounded stood, sat, or lay in the waiting area being tended to by some of the nurses, while the beds were filled with the more critical patients. Collins walked slowly through the mass of ruined bodies, many of them were Kawmawri, but more than a few Delmar and Human wounded lay scattered about the ward along with a sprinkling of other unity species. The man he was searching for was in neither of these groups, and Alex quietly snagged a male nurse who was between patients, “Excuse me, I’m looking for a Soldier. He came in with the last shuttle, punctured lung and an energy wound to his right side.”
“I’m sorry captain, I don’t recognize him as one of the patients. You may… You may need to try the Morgue, we lost more than a few in the shuttle during the evacuation.” The man said before heading off toward the waiting area to triage more patients. Alex nodded his thanks, heading toward the back of the infirmary. Stepping through the door, he expected to ask an orderly to see a body. Instead, he found the man he was looking for. He was sitting in a wheelchair in the corner staring blankly into nothing while a familiar bloody dog tag idly spun in his hand. He looked up at the sound of the door, recognizing The Hulking Marine who was still in his armor, although with his helmet completely off at this point. “Captain.” The man, in fresh scrubs, spun his wheelchair to face Alex and gave off a somewhat labored salute.
“As you were. I wanted to thank you.” Alex started, pullin up a chair and settling into it. “You tried to save Bruce, he was one of mine.”
“I know, Captain Collins. Bruce was ecstatic to be given a suit. He always said it made him feel like a real-life Space Marine.” The man said sadly, eyes losing focus in the painful memory. “We met when we were 6. I’ve known him my whole life.”
“You’re Reaux.” Alex stated, “He spoke highly of you, ‘despite being army’. His words. He told me he was going to see you that morning. I didn’t put it together though.” The Marine put a hand on the shoulder of the Soldier as he turned back to stare at the bloody dog tags in his hand.
“I told him not to come. I told him that I was fine, and I would buy him a beer orbit side… He refused, brought me a pack of Miller. He snuck it past the nurses, and died for it.” The last phrase ripped itself, dripping with rage, from the wheelchair-bound mans voice. He clenched his fist around the piece of metal in his hand, his shoulders shaking slightly below a clenched jaw. “Those fuckers bombed hospitals… fucking hospitals…” he growled.
“and homes..” Alex echo’d Reaux’s tone.
“How many did we get out.” Sean Reaux asked, turning to face the marine once more. “How many did we save.”
“We got a little over fifty thousand out. Most of them were civilians, but we got most of ours out as well. We lost at least one hospital entirely. I don’t know how many…” Alex answered.
“Fuckers…” Reaux hissed, “And here I am, all fucked up and nowhere to dance.”
“Easy Sargent, rest up, our turn will come sooner than you think.” Alex clamped the man on the shoulder, “I’ll see about getting you someplace to rest. You look like ass.”
“Don’t. I requested the chair. I have a full load of bed-programmed nanites onboard. I gave the bed up once they kicked in. Some other boys need it more.” Sean Reaux patted the chair and smirked, “besides, I can chase the nurses easier on wheels.”
Alex knew it was a facade, but he also knew to respect the mans decision, “Understood, Sargent. Come see me when you are recovered. I have to write the letter, but you know the family better than I do. bring me anything you would like to send them and I’ll add it.”
Sean Reaux stiffened for a moment before slowly pulling an envelope from his scrubs.. It’s dried blood encrusted fingerprints betrayed its origins. He handed it, almost reverently to Alex, gave a weak salute, and went back to spinning his dead childhood friend’s dogtags. Sean did not bother to wait for a return salute. Alex just let the man be, choosing instead to head toward the mess.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Martina, Ivar and Ja’krin were finishing off the last of their plates. The mess was about half full, with the shift change rush slowly filtering in.
“So, Spill”, Buzz finally broke the idle chit chat, turning to Ivar. “You pick up command of 303, then get almost immediately pulled off for a series of classified missions. Then, out of nowhere, you and Chika burn in, Wax almost a squadron of fighters, then land in a pair of fighters that scream “I could tell ya, but I’d have to kill ya”. What gives.”
Chika snorted at the reference, and Ivar chuckled, “You’ve been watching too many Human Spy shows again.”
“Yea, so? Give.” Ja’krin said with a shit-eating grin.
“The short story is, we are testing out a new type of fighter. I can’t tell you anything else, but if you remember when we met Mac for the first time…” Ivar pointedly let his voice trail off.
“Fuck me…” Ja’krin mumbled, skewering a piece of fruit from his plate. “That would explain the Void demons you rode in on. Do you know what the timetable would be on something like that?”
“That, I can't say.” Martina said. Drawing a confused look from Buzz as she answered for Ivar.
“We’re still just pilots after all,” Ivar said almost as if he had never been interrupted.
“Ooook? I’m not gonna get much out of the two of you am…” Ja’krin froze as husband and wife shared a look. “Whoa shit… I heard rumors but… It's true isn’t it.”
“Hmm?” Martina asked, tilting her head slightly.
“…You finally claimed Ivar…” Buzz’s eyes widened in understanding. “That shouldn’t be possible. What the hell have you two been up to.”
“We… we can’t say. Yes, you are correct. I was recently able to Claim McLovin. I’m not at liberty to tell you how.” Martina stated carefully, taking Ivar’s hand as he reached to caution her.
“Well, CONGRATS!” Jak’rin smiled broadly, “However it happened, it’s awesome news! We are gonna need to celebrate when we get back to…”
The warning klaxon’s howl broke everyone in the mess hall from their activities. The entire hall emptied out inside of a minute, its occupants filed out in practiced urgency before rushing to their stations.
________________________________________________________________________________________
USN Galveston exploded into real space trailing wisps of quantum plasma. Thirty-nine other warships appeared next to her in a planned formation, and several of them began to almost boil as they launched their fighters. Hundreds of scans had been analyzed to give the incoming fleet the closest possible arrival coordinate, and the mass of Human and Delmar vessels arrived within half an hour from orbit. Still, several ship’s shields flared as small bits of debris bounced harmlessly off the energy fields.
A fleet-wide signal began transmitting from the Galveston, “This is Grand Admiral Karmarin of the Unity Galactic Navy working in conjunction with the United Sol Federation and the Delmar Confederation. I am transmitting an encrypted packet along with this transmission. I, as the head of the UGN, have requested aid from Sol and of Delmar, and have received it. Commence operations within five minutes of the completion of this transmission. Void guide you all.”