“We need a hand up here!” Ado shouted from the shoulder of Archon. He was welding some additional plate armor to a cross joint near a newly installed missile battery.
“Um, Eshcol, could you lend him a hand?” Aubrey asked. Her team still seemed to be working independently from one another, like five thumbs on a single hand. Two days ago, Nergal had to remount an ion cannon to Archon’s left arm that Shamesh had removed with the intent of replacing it with a rail gun, which Paltit had already installed just below the spinner.
Eschol shook his head. “I don’t know anything about welding” the hulking brute replied, before lumbering off.
Aubrey exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples with her right hand.
“I’ll help him,” Nube said, before bounding and swinging up the scaffolding to where Ado sat raining sparks down to the ground below. Aubrey was always amazed at how easily climbing came to the Divona, who seemed so awkward as they loped through the flat hallways.
Aubrey returned to the schematics James Nelson had sent her.
“These look brilliant to me, James.”
James stared at her, slumped in his floating chair, his twisted form unmoving except for the slight motion of his aglets.
“He spent the better part of last night putting the finishing touches on it,” Jon chimed in helpfully. The two twins looked so alike that, had she not seen the two of them together, Aubrey wouldn’t have been surprised to discover they were in fact the same person, pretending to be crippled on occasion. “It’s really some of his best work.”
“Oh shut up, would you?” James shot back, glaring at his brother. Jon simply smiled, ignoring his brother’s sharp words as he always did. Aubrey was amazed at his patience with his brother, who seemed to take great joy in torturing his twin. “She can decide for herself if it’s any good.”
Aubrey smiled. “Well, it is. Let’s start making some assignments so we can-“ Aubrey’s words were interrupted by an explosion that ripped through their Jugger's left leg. The force of the blast knocked Aubrey to the ground. Jon landed on top of her. James reeled in his chair, spinning out of control until he slammed into the hard concrete wall behind them.
The Jugger rolled dangerously to one side, crashing into the scaffolding. The metal frame bent and moaned, but thankfully not collapsing to the ground. Ado rolled from his perch to the left as the Jugger lurched. His thick fingers scratched at the smooth metal surface of the armor plating, scrambling in vain for a hold to prevent the long fall to the ground below. Nube, reacting in an instant, swung below the Jugger's arm and snagged Ado as he fell, pulling him to safety.
Aubrey’s sense of hearing vanished. Her head swam, her vision doubled as the ringing in her head overwhelmed her senses. She blinked heavily in daze. As her faculties returned, panic set in. Nam Rood was right. Someone was going to die. And it was her fault.
“My Gaberlunzie suit!” an unseen Shamesh shouted through the choking cloud of smoke and debris, her voice panicked. “Someone check me, is my suit leaking?”
“Are you alright?” Jon asked as he climbed off of Aubrey. She shook her head in an attempt to clear the fog that had settled over her brain. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, and failed to register the blood that matted her hair.
She pulled herself to her feet, brushing the dust and debris from her scalp, accidentally smearing blood across her face. She looked around. “Is anyone hurt?” she shouted through the smoke and dust. A small fuel fire had broken out, and electrical sparks danced through the blast area, thrown from torn wires that dangled like snakes.
“Aubrey, your head. Are you alright?” Jon asked again.
She ignored him, the knot in her stomach tightening. She dove straight into the cloud of soot and ash.
Most of her team had escaped the blast relatively unscathed. But as they pushed through the rubble and collapsed metal, Aubrey spotted Paltit pinned beneath the broken, twisted leg pylon. Aubrey ran to her side.
“Mamre, Eshcol, get over here!” she shouted as she grasped Paltit’s left hand. Her right arm looked completely crushed, her forearm hung at an impossible angle. Green blood leaked from her nose as her eyes opened a crack. “Nergal, Shamesh, get that fire out.”
“I’m not going anywhere near that fire!” Shamesh shot back. “My suit could get damaged.”
Aubrey glared at her. “Put the fire out, now!” she said through gritted teeth. Shamesh hesitated only a second more before nodding her head and following Nergal towards the emergency deck that had appeared from the wall as soon as the blast had been detected.
“Don’t move, Paltit.” Aubrey said, forcing the panic from her voice. “There was an accident, but you’re going to be okay.” She licked her dry lips, surpassing the urge to add “I hope,” under her breath.
Mamre appeared first through the cloud of smoke, her black armor making her nearly impossible to see. Shamesh’s hulking stone form appeared behind her.
“I need the two of you to help get this thing off of her.”
Eshcol moved to one side of the Jugger leg, his massive bear-like body bracing against the floor. Without a word, Mamre joined him.
“Ready?” Aubrey asked. They both nodded. “On my count. Jon? Where did Jon go?”
“Over here,” Jon shouted. He was next to his brother, gingerly lifting him back into his chair.
James pushed him away. “Go, I’m fine.”
Jon sprinted to where Paltit laid, a small pool of green blood forming under her right side.
“Listen, grab her shoulder,” Aubrey instructed. “As soon as they get the pylon up, we pull her free.”
Oner appeared behind them, carrying a small box white box with a red dot on all six sides. “I’ve got the portable med bay,” it said grimly.
“Great, thanks,” Aubrey replied, despite having no idea what a portable med bay was. “Alright, on the count of three. One. Two. Three!”
Both Eshcol and Mamre grunted, pressing their weight into the leg. Aubrey could see it move slightly, but not enough to allow Paltit to escape. “Alright, set it back down, that’s not going to work. Grab one of the loaders, that should give you the leverage you need.”
“On it,” Mamre said as she disappeared into the haze.
Paltit coughed and gasped in pain.
“Do we have any water?” Aubrey asked. Oner popped open the portable med bay and pulled out a bottle. It handed the liquid to Aubrey, who cradled Paltit’s head, popping the top.
“Here, drink,” Aubrey offered the water, but Paltit closed her mouth.
“Paltit, please, take some water.”
Paltit refused. She swung her free arm wildly, knocking the bottle from Aubrey’s hand to the ground where its contents gushed into a pool that mingled with dust and Paltit’s blood. Aubrey pursed her lips, but said nothing.
Mamre re-appeared, wearing a set of the heavy loader arms, giant clawed devices that enhanced the wearers ability to carry excessive weight, usually used to load missiles and other heavy equipment onto the juggers. She dug in again next to Eshcol.
“Alright, let’s try this again,” Aubrey said. “One. Two. Three!”
Mamre and Eschol grunted and groaned with the effort. The leg slowly lifted, this time much further.
“Pull!” Aubrey shouted, and she and Jon pulled Paltit’s crushed frame out. Once she was clear, Mamre and Escol dropped the leg to the floor with a loud clang, which reverberated through the bay. Other students were now watching, Twiki among them, smirking and jeering at the spectacle.
Aubrey could now see that Paltit’s wounds were not as serious as she had feared. Her arm was a mangled mess of bone and meat, but it had borne the brunt of the weight. Her chest and torso seemed intact, though heavily scraped and rapidly bruising.
Oner yanked the three red tubes from the portable med bay and inserted them into Paltit’s node. Paltit’s body relaxed as drugs flowed into her system, and nano-bots began to repair her internal injuries. Aubrey watched in wonder as the cuts on her torso began to fill with a blue gel from inside, closing the gaps and stopping the bleeding.
Her arm was another matter entirely. A strange white foam began to bubble out of her skin, until it covered her entire arm from the tip of her fingers to her shoulder.
“I’m being told by her A.I. that it is now safe to transport her to the med facility,” Alzar informed Aubrey. A robotic set of arms appeared out of the floor, and gingerly picked Paltit up.
“Where are they taking her?” she asked.
“She’ll need to rest up for at least a day in a kyphosis chamber,” Alzar answered. “But she should be fine.”
Aubrey looked down at the spilled water and blood. Jon put his arm around her. “Don’t feel bad. The Abu are really weird about water.”
Aubrey glanced up at him, puzzled.
“Sharing water in the Abu culture is one of the most intimate and sublime things two beings can do. It is a show of respect, and love,” Jon explained. “By offering her water, well, it’d be like a stranger trying to kiss you on the mouth.”
“I feel bad.”
Jon grinned. “There’s an old saying where I’m from. Always borrow money from the Abu, they never expect it back. They’re a sour bunch of pessimists; I wouldn’t take it too personally.”
Aubrey smiled as best she could. She heard shouting behind her.
“What did you do this time, you stupid squid-brain?” Nergal yelled as she shoved Amur hard.
“Nothing! I didn’t do anything!” he pleaded as he tripped over the rubble, stumbling to catch himself.
“What’s going on?” Aubrey shouted as she caught his long arm, steadying him.
“What do you think? He almost killed Paltit.”
“You never should have drafted him,” Nergal added. “He’s useless!”
“Worse than useless. He’s dangerous.”
Aubrey turned to Amur. “What were you doing when explosion happened?”
“I was standing over by Mamre, helping her organize the missile loader.”
Aubrey glanced over at Mamre who nodded her slug like head. “He wasn’t anywhere near the explosion.”
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t cause it,” Shamesh shot back. “He’s an idiot!”
“I am not!” Amur yelled, emboldened by Aubrey’s presence.
Ado appeared behind Aubrey, carrying a twisted metal tube. “We think we found the source of the explosion. Someone planted a bomb.”
A silence fell over the group. Aubrey looked for Twiki, who still observed them, a smug grin on her face. She winked at Aubrey before returning to her bay, her teammates laughing at some unheard joke.
“I told you I didn’t do it,” Amur said under his breath, kicking a chunk of rubble with his robotic foot.
“Yeah, well, what difference does it make?” Shamesh replied. “If you don’t get us killed, Aubrey will.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nube asked, stepping close to Shamesh, rising to her full height.
Aubrey reached up, gently grasping Nube’s arm. “Let’s just get this mess cleaned up,” she said.
Shamesh glared at her, before shaking her head. “Stupid girl is gonna get us all killed,” she stormed off. Eshcol and Nergal followed.
Aubrey sighed and began clearing the rubble as her friends watched. Wordlessly, they joined in.
The group managed to clean out most of the dirt and debris while Ado and Jon focused on creating a defensive perimeter around their bay, along with installing some rudimentary surveillance equipment. It was crude, but at least it would prevent any direct tampering and allowed for remote monitoring.
Aubrey cursed herself for not thinking of it earlier. In many ways she still clung to her naive notions that people were inherently good. Apparently that was no longer true. Maybe it never had been.
She stopped to check on Paltit on her way to her next class. She watched her floating in the kyphosis chamber, unconscious, suspended in the blue liquid. She looked peaceful as two metallic arms with needle sharp fingers stitched her arm back together. Aubrey shuddered to think what could have happened had the explosion been better timed.
She found herself unable to concentrate during her Navigation and Piloting class. The professors, a husband and wife named Shakkara and Shakrura, hailed from the same planet as Ado.
Their lecture was nothing more than background noise as Aubrey replayed the accident over and over in her head. Her finger absentmindedly poked at the grit that seemed to fall endlessly from her hair. She hadn’t thought to clean herself up before class. The sweat and soot made her skin crawl and itch.
She looked up, startled by the sudden silence in the room. Shakkara and Shakrura both stared at her.
“Well?” Shakrura demanded, her voice dripped with annoyance.
Aubrey blinked heavily. “Are you talking to me?” she said. A wave of subdued laughter rolled through the class.
“She asked if you felt our class was beneath you,” Shakkara said. “Apparently we have our answer.”
Aubrey’s cheeks stung. “No, I’m sorry-“
“Tell us,” he interrupted her. “If a ship is moving at five hundred Nanosecs per hour at thirty-six degrees from the vertical after twenty-six seconds of flight, and has a lift of one hundred and seventy-five pounds and a drag of three hundred pounds acting upon it, and if the ship weighs four thousand pounds at twenty-six seconds, what must its minimum thrust be to maintain its velocity?”
Aubrey’s gaze fell. “I don’t know.”
“What is the appropriate approach vector for two ships, one double the mass of the first, in a grav well?” Shakrura asked.
“I don’t know,” Aubrey repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Then you must at least know the mathematical equation to calculate the eccentric anomaly of a body moving along an elliptic Kepler orbit,” Shakkara asked.
Aubrey didn’t say a word under the heat of his glare.
“Well, then, we guess being ranked number one in your class isn’t everything, is it?” Shakrura said. The class laughed again, Twiki especially.
Shakkara approached Aubrey, invading her personal space with his inflated head sack. “You humans are a fascinating race. So arrogant.”
Aubrey glared up at him.
“One moment, a snarling beast filled with rage and spitting hate,” he continued. “Moments later, forgetting why. And your whole life is wrapped in a tapestry of petty rancor and venom, until there is nothing left for you but to die.”
Aubrey felt the anger swelling in her stomach, spreading to her arms. Nube caught Aubrey’s eye, and shook her head, trying to calm her friend down.
Aubrey took a deep breath in through her nose, attempting to reign in her emotions, but Shakkara pushed her.
“You’re one of the pulled recruits, are you not?”
She nodded her head.
“Tell us, how does it feel to know - your family, your friends, everyone you knew and cared about - are dead.”
Nube gasped as Aubrey’s face went white.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, his face inches from hers. “Do you cry at night, when you think no one can see you?”
Her fingers formed a ball of iron as she locked eyes with his. She clenched her jaw as tears formed.
“Ah, yes, we see, the tears. The endless wasted tears, crying over something you can’t control.” He clucked his broad tongue as he straightened up, his head sack inflating. “Perhaps your energy would be better spent focusing on your studies.”
Aubrey’s hand relaxed as he strode back to the front of the class. Nube placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as the lecture continued.
#
That night, Aubrey waited until the barracks fell silent. She killed the time by reviewing vids of previous final tournaments. She studied these tapes every evening, long into the night, searching for ways she could improve on the successful tactics of her predecessors. The tournaments always began the same, two teams on a mobile platform high in the air over the battlefield.
These platforms would slowly rotate, giving each team a thorough, albeit brief view of the battlefield. Each of the teams would scramble to make adjustments to their Juggers as they spotted terrain features they wanted to exploit or avoid. Their platforms would then land next to each teams’ respective bases, a squat structure filled with the necessary support equipment, and the battle would begin.
Though each battle began the same, they were fought in remarkably different ways, depending on the temperament of the commander. Some would dive headlong into the fray, using speed and ferocity to gamble everything on a single blitzkrieg attack.
Others were more methodical, finding a strong position and waiting for the attack to come, or trailing their opponent using stealth and dropping an ambush during what they deemed the appropriate time. These ambushes rarely worked effectively, due to unfamiliarity with the terrain.
The scant few minutes they had were not enough to truly analyze the battlefield, forcing the fight to be one of improvisation instead of calculated strategy.
She listened for a moment to the loud breathing that came from all corners of the barracks. Slipping on her aglets, she asked Alzar to check the vitals of the other students to ensure they were asleep.
“Oh yes, they’re quite unconscious,” he reported. “Would you like to know which part of the sleep cycle they’re currently in?”
Aubrey politely declined as she slid out of her sleep pod and snuck past the rows of sleeping classmates. She paused a moment, looking down at Twiki. It wasn’t in her nature to hate, but Twiki sure pushed her limits. Shaking her head, she made her way out into the darkened corridors.
“Not to sound impertinent, but where on earth are we going?” Alzar asked as she wandered aimlessly.
Aubrey shrugged. “I just want to be alone is all. Please block all in-coming communications.”
“As you wish.”
She continued in silence; the halls of Bavel felt eerie without the usual bustle and hum of the students.
She made her way to the observation deck. The room was immense, its cavernous walls and ceiling stretching upwards of seventy feet. The entire north wall was made of glass steel. It overlooked a marvelous sight that took Aubrey’s breath away.
Bavel was currently hidden within a thick asteroid belt that spun around a brown dwarf. The massive stones hurtled and spun around the gently glowing star, light flickering and dancing through the cluster as they slowly descended, sucked in by the gravitational pull of the dying sun.
Aubrey sat near the window, pulling her knees under her chin. She hugged her legs, and the tears came.
She watched the asteroids impact on the surface of the sun, causing a continuous dance of flashing bursts of light, not unlike the lightning storms she loved to watch in the distance each summer from her bedroom window. In the vacuum of space, there was no clap of thunder, but she still found it comforting somehow.
“I’m not interrupting, am I?” Mazle-Din asked.
Aubrey turned, startled, to look at her. She was a Jayakara, the same race as Mamre, though her shell was a swirling mixture of deep reds and purples. She had scars running the length of her body, deep jagged cuts in her hard armor. Aubrey shuddered to think of what could have done so much damage.
Just like her friend, Mazle-Din’s face seemed to glow from within, a unique star field pattern danced just below the surface of her featureless face. But Aubrey could tell she was old, far older than Mamre. She had seen Mazle-Din amongst the row of teachers, but had yet to have any classes with her.
Aubrey wiped her cheeks, suddenly self-conscious. “Not really,” she lied. “I just wanted some time alone.”
Mazle-Din moved and sat next to her. If she heard Aubrey’s words, she either didn’t understand them or didn’t care.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Mazle-Din said.
“Yeah, it sure is something.”
“You’re Aubrey, aren’t you. One of the pulled recruits?”
Aubrey nodded.
“I’m Mazle-Din. I teach History, although you won’t be in one of my classes until next year. You first years have to focus on the technical aspects of war before you can learn war theory.”
“If I survive that long.”
Mazle-Din leaned forward. “Is that what’s bothering you? You’re scared to die?”
“Not exactly,” Aubrey said, chewing her lip.
“What then?”
“This place is poison,” Aubrey answered flatly.
“You may be right. I’ve seen this place destroy more than its share of students.”
“I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I miss my family. I miss my home. I-“ Aubrey’s voice broke as the tears returned.
“I wish there was something I could say to help you. Sometimes, words just aren’t enough.”
Aubrey nodded her head. The two sat in silence for a moment.
“I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to be in this war. It’s not my war anyway,” Aubrey finally said. “I hate this place. I don’t deserve to be treated like this.”
Mazle-Din’s head tilted. “In life, it is not what you deserve, not what you want, not what you hope for. It is what you take for yourself. The good, or the bad.”
Aubrey slowed her breathing.
“You can’t worry about the world, or what it thinks. You can’t depend on anyone, because sooner or later, they’ll turn on you, or simply disappear and leave you alone. But, you have an inner strength. I saw it during your entrance exams. I see it now.”
Aubrey looked up at her, puzzled. “Strength? I feel so weak.”
“You are not being weak, you are being vulnerable. And there can be great strength found in that vulnerability. The truly great commanders throughout history have understood this principle. Intuitively, it would seem. Just as you do.”
Aubrey stared at the flashing star as it devoured asteroid after asteroid. “I think you’re wrong.”
Mazle-Din watched her for a moment. “Come with me, I’d like to show you something.”
The two made their way through the darkened hallways and into the engineering bay. They walked past the Juggers, the towering monstrosities keeping their silent vigil, until at last they came to a bulkhead at the back corner of the chamber. Aubrey had never noticed it before. Mazle-Din quickly typed with her aglets and the door slid open.
Inside a Jugger floated in what looked like a massive kyphosis chamber, the size of a large building. Only this Jugger was unlike any she had seen before.
Its surface was covered in smooth white metal that to Aubrey appeared like polished marble. Its form was more elegant than what she had seen in the engineering bays, its curved body and limbs more poetic than the blocky Juggers the students used.
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Blue lights lined the joints, and its double set of arms held weaponry that Aubrey didn’t recognize. Even from where she stood, she could sense its power, which seemed to flow outward in great waves, and filled the air with electricity.
“This is Mik’iel. The first Jugger,” Mazle-Din said proudly.
“Who built it?” Aubrey asked.
“The Seraph. An alien race we know very little about. It was first discovered by the Heruka on the planet Pancanana in the year 2318. Our very best and brightest scientists tried to deconstruct it as a part of Project Genesis, which eventually evolved into the Jugger program as we know it today.”
“Does it work?” Aubrey asked.
“We don’t know. Several humans have attempted to pilot it, but were unable to interface with the spinner. You see, the Juggers are living creatures made of bio-tech. We speculate that the Seraph Juggers are sentient, even intelligent.”
Aubrey touched the side of the tank. She felt a warmth coming from the Jugger, as if something had tugged at a chord attached to the base of her stomach, urging her closer. “It’s beautiful,” was all she could manage to say.
“The Alliance has only encountered the Seraph once. In the year 2176, in an event known as the Fall of Gabbath.”
Aubrey glanced at Mazel-Din. “What happened?”
“A fleet of ships were exploring one of the outer systems. The long range scanners and probes had shown little that was remarkable. A single potentially habitable planet with minor resources hardly worth plundering. However, upon their arrival, they were shocked to encounter a colony of the Seraph. A single glorious city known as Gabbath.”
Aubrey’s gaze returned to Mik’iel. It seemed to change somehow, as if its body were expressing sorrow and pain. Aubrey was sure she was imagining things.
“The Five, having never encountered the Seraph before, immediately ordered a full scale attack against the small colony, hoping to quickly overpower them and gain access to their intel and technologies. To learn how to further their conquest.”
“They attacked, unprovoked?” Aubrey asked, horrified.
“Of course,” Mazle-Din answered. “You have to remember the First Contact War began only twenty years prior. It was a bloody, four-year conflagration between the humans and the Divona that cost too many lives and resources on both sides. Ever since, the Five have always assumed open hostility upon first encountering a new interstellar species, allowing them to negotiate from a position of strength.”
Aubrey thought for a moment, her hand tracing slow circles on the glass chamber. “Still seems wrong to me.”
“The human fleet was decimated. It was our first encounter with Juggers, and the small fleet was no match for a handful of the Seraph warriors. But then the Seraph did something strange.”
“What?” Aubrey asked.
“They evacuated the colony and destroyed it, leaving nothing behind.”
Aubrey looked up at the Jugger. A smile spreading on her face.
“The Seraph knew the humans would return. Knew they would come in force, intent on taking the planet. So to keep the peace, they simply left.”
“Why not negotiate with the humans, broker a truce of some kind?” Aubrey asked.
“That remains a mystery. We’ve never had direct contact with the Seraph, we’ve only caught glimpses. But from what we can tell, they’re light years ahead of us, technologically speaking. My people revere them as the source of life throughout the entire universe. They spread Life Seeds, an advanced bio-tech machine that creates organic life, encouraging the evolutionary process by releasing complex proteins and DNA into the environment at carefully timed intervals. We’ve only found one of the seeds, but many theorize that all life in the known systems may be the result of the Seraph. We just don’t know.”
She stepped behind Aubrey, her neck craned up at the Jugger’s face. “It was dumb luck that the Heruka happened across a crashed Seraph vessel. It had been buried in the planet for quite some time.” Mazle-Din approached Aubrey, taking her hand. “But we do know that the Seraph hold all life to be sacred. You see, Aubrey, all it takes to banish the darkness, is a single point of light. No matter how small, or insignificant it might seem, the darkness cannot conquer the light. This world will only poison you if you let it. So don’t.”
Aubrey smiled. “Thank you.”
Mazle-Din nodded. “You should get back to your barracks and get some rest. Sleep is a luxury at Bavel.”
Aubrey nodded, and turned to leave. Mazle-Din followed her, closing the massive doors that secured the Seraph Jugger.
“Aubrey?” Mazle-Din called out. Aubrey stopped and turned to face her. “I have a gift for you.”
Mazle-Din’s aglets danced in the air. “I’m sending you a video file. Please don’t tell anyone I shared it with you. I could get in trouble.”
Aubrey watched her, puzzlement painting the corners of her eyes.
“Goodnight,” Mazle-Din said, before disappearing down one of the corridors.
The video played. Aubrey’s knees buckled when she saw her father’s face.
He smiled as he sat at a table surrounded by soldiers in uniforms, presumably his comrades in arms; soldiers of all different shapes and sizes. They were thirteen in number, laughing and joking together. The audio was noticeably absent, but seeing her father’s face again made her ache.
It was short, maybe fifteen seconds, but she watched it on loop over and over, alternating between tears and a goofy grin.
After regaining her composure, she made her way back to the barracks. She was met by Shamesh and Eschol, both pacing anxiously at the entrance.
“Where have you been?” Eschol demanded.
Aubrey’s brow furrowed. “I was just getting some air.” She looked over their shoulders to see the empty sleep pods of her team. “Where is everyone?”
“Scouring Bavel looking for you,” Shamesh answered, “We thought something might have happened.”
“Alzar,” Aubrey said. “Call the team back.”
“Right away, my dear,” Alzar replied.
Her friends began to reappear, trickling back in small groups. Ado was relieved to see her, giving her a huge hug. Nube seemed more anxious than happy.
“You can’t keep disappearing like that,” she scolded. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone would notice.”
“The enemy has eyes everywhere,” Mamre said. “You have to assume you are always being watched.”
Aubrey nodded. “Listen, since you’re all up anyway, I have something I want to tell you.”
The students under her command fell silent. Aubrey cleared her throat.
“I know… I know we had a setback today.”
Shamesh snorted loudly through her Gaberlunzie suit, but fell silent when the others glared at her.
“It’s my fault. What happened to Paltit. I have failed you as your commander. And I wanted to ask your forgiveness.”
“Are we going to strike back at Twiki’s team?” Shamesh asked, grinning broadly.
“No,” Aubrey answered flatly. “We won’t be stooping to their level. We’re better than that.”
Eshcol and Nergal shared a puzzled look. Aubrey did her best to ignore it.
“I know Commander Nam Rood and the Five would have us believe that we’re all alone in this world. That we’re each making our own way, looking out for ourselves, fighting for our own needs.” She licked her lips, hesitating before continuing. “But that’s simply not true; we’re not isolated creatures. Every cruelty and kindness seals us together, and from that ocean of interactions and decisions our future emerges.”
She looked down at her hands. “There are only so many injustices a person can stand, until they stand up and say no more.”
She felt her chest pounding. “Well for me, this is it. No more. And I just wanted to make sure you knew that.”
Her teammates nodded, her friends smiled.
“That’s it. Go back to sleep; we’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
#
“What the hell happened?” James bellowed, spittle running down his twisted chin.
Aubrey looked up from the welding schematic she was reviewing with Eshcol and Ado. James’ wheelchair was parked in its usual position, near the programming banks for the Jugger.
“What’s going on?” Aubrey asked as she approached him.
“Someone erased the combat programming,” he answered.
“What do you mean ‘erased it?’” Nube asked as she swung down from the scaffolding.
“What do you think I mean? It’s gone. All of it.”
“Can we restore it?” Aubrey asked, her voice calmer than it should have been.
“I already tried that,” James snapped. “Everything is gone. Our backups, even the old versions of the software. Everything.”
Eschol slammed his enormous fist into the ground, cracking the concrete as he bellowed like a furnace.
“Everyone calm down,” Aubrey said. “We’ll figure out what happened and-”
“Figure out what happened?” Nergal shot back, her head sack inflated to dangerous levels. “Isn’t it obvious? More sabotage. More attacks. Because they know we’re afraid.”
“We need to fight back!” Shamesh said. “Hit them hard, make them pay-“
“No,” Aubrey interrupted, her voice calm but firm. “James, what are our options?”
He exhaled sharply. “I have no idea. We can’t build this software from the ground up.”
“Why not?” Aubrey asked.
He laughed. “Because that would take years, maybe decades. And my understanding of the Jugger technology is still rudimentary at best.”
“We’re doomed,” Oner said in his usual melancholic tone, wringing his great clawed hands.
Aubrey thought for a moment, but before she could open her mouth, Nam Rood’s voice cut in.
“All first years, please immediately report to hanger seven. All first years, please immediately report to hanger seven.”
Aubrey looked back at her team. “We’ll just have to deal with this later.”
Her soldiers grumbled as they made their way through the winding hallways to the shipyard. Crafts of all different sizes and shapes darted and spun through the enormous chamber like a swarm of insects, their autopilots controlling the intricate, complex dance.
Aubrey watched them for a moment. They looked like silver snowflakes being blown through a storm, but there was a tightly controlled pattern to the chaos.
Nam Rood, flanked by Jar Breson and Enos, stood in front of a Batteroon, one of the largest Battleships in the human fleets. Its immense size took Aubrey’s breath away. It looked to be well over three miles long, and a third that size tall. Its top was made of massive subsections that were stacked in layers, its underside a mass of immense tubes which interlocked and wound together in a seemingly random fashion.
Aubrey couldn’t see any sort of obvious propulsion system, but she could feel the engines rumbling deep in the ship’s belly. Her HUD displayed the name of the ship, Tiamat, along with some technical specs that Aubrey struggled to understand.
The students fell into rank and stood at attention.
“We are going on a little field trip,” Nam Rood announced, his voice barely heard over the din of the ships flying behind him. “The Azrael have engaged some of our forces in a battle near Tarvos in the Yamari system. We will be jumping to their location to observe the fight.” He looked the students up and down. “You would do well to pay attention. Absorb everything you can. Someday, sooner than you think, you will be engaged in these kinds of skirmishes. Are there any questions?”
“Will we be in any danger?” Shamesh asked.
“Of course. This is war. You are always in danger. But we will be simply observing the battle, not participating in it. We should be relatively safe.”
Jar Breson touched Nam Rood on the shoulder, and whispered something into his ear. Aubrey noticed a twinge of annoyance flash across Enos’ face as Nam Rood chuckled, and clapped Jar Breson on the back. Or was it jealousy?
“You’re right; of course, my friend. It is time to depart, fall in!”
The students followed Nam Rood into the belly of the metallic beast. Behind them, Aubrey heard the heavy doors grind shut. They made their way through the claustrophobic hallways. Unlike Bavel, every inch of the ship seemed designed for utility, no space wasted, no thought given to comfort.
Silently the students plodded through the belly of the ship until they arrived at the command deck; an enormous chamber filled with soldiers, each wired via their ports to various computer systems, their fingers dancing as they worked their aglets.
In the center Captain Lesa Lendix, a Gish, floated in an aquarium about four times the size of the kyphosis chamber Aubrey had travelled in. It was interesting to see one of the Gish out of their protective Gaberlunzie suits, in their natural aquatic atmosphere.
Captain Lendix floating easily in the brine, her long clawed fingers opened and closed as she flexed her hands, revealing a mass of webbing that allowed her to move gracefully through the purple-tinged liquid. Her fanged mouth chittered rhythmically, extending much further than seemed natural as the net of teeth and jaw bones slid and stretched and distended.
A series of three dimensional projections floated above her. The first showed a star map with colored dots giving real time data read outs on fleet movements through the Yamari system. Aubrey couldn’t quite make out the information, but Alzar noticed her eyes straining and helpfully pulled up a copy onto her HUD.
The second projection showed the status of the various ships currently engaged in combat with the Azrael. Although she couldn’t see the actual battle, she could visualize the events from the readouts; which ships were firing, which had taken casualties, which systems had been damaged in each vessel.
She watched a squadron of Abu Shriekers as they were torn apart by enemy fire, the small, fast-moving single pilot fighters suddenly flaring up before disappearing from the display.
The third showed the enemies forces, along with calculated guesses as to the status and standing of their ships. The force was substantial by Aubrey’s estimation, but not overwhelming. It seemed the Alliance fleet would have no trouble mopping up what was left.
The front of the room was a giant glass steel wall, which gave a clear one hundred and eighty degree view from the front of the ship. Data points followed and displayed on her HUD as various ships darted past them.
Nam Rood led the students to an observation deck, a row of chairs that looked out over the bridge, out of the way of the soldiers and crew who worked below. They took their seats, which adjusted to allow each student an unobstructed view of the action.
Aubrey made certain to sit next to her friends Nube and Ado, while Mamre and Amur both sat nearby, keeping a sharp eye on Twiki and her legion.
Several weeks earlier, Aubrey would have thought them paranoid, but now she wouldn’t be surprised if someone simply slid a knife between her ribs as she sat watching the battle unfold. She felt much more comfortable knowing Mamre, with her tremendous strength and hand-to-hand combat expertise, was close by.
“Why aren’t we in kyphosis chambers?” she asked Ado.
“No need. Once we’re clear of Bavel’s superstructure, they’ll use the Halabi drive to jump us to a safe observation distance.”
A loud clanking noise echoed through the vessel, vibrating the seat she sat on. The entire ship lurched as it slid free of the docking mechanism. Aubrey’s chair compensated for the unexpected motion, keeping her from tumbling to the floor.
The Batteroon made its way through the shifting maze of ships until it passed the thin blue atmosphere barrier and silver layer of grav shields, entering the yawning blackness of space.
The ship turned, and the radiant dim star came into view, its surface a swirling orange furnace that churned endlessly. They soared gracefully through the asteroid field until they were clear.
“With your permission, High Commander Nam Rood, we will make the jump to the Yamari system,” Captain Lendix broadcast to everyone.
“Please, Captain, it is your ship. We are simply here to observe the battle,” Nam Rood replied.
“As you wish. Engaging the Halabi Drive on my mark,” Captain Lendix’s voice echoed in her ear. “Three, two, one, go.”
A disconcerting silence overtook the ship, and Aubrey felt a strange pull at the center of her being, as if she were falling backwards from a great height. Her vision blurred for a moment as they jumped an unfathomable distance to the Yamari system. Sound suddenly rushed into her ears, like a blast of wind.
In front of the ship, a battle raged between the massive Alliance fleet and the smaller Azrael force. Aubrey had a hard time following the battle. Everything moved so quickly, the fight so fluid.
The Alliance fleet, comprised mostly of Dragoons - the axe-shaped human battle-cruisers, which Alazar referred to as “the workhorse of the human fleets” - Hobgoblins - the long t-shaped Faro ships, larger than the Dragoons but still dwarfed by Tiamat - and at least seventeen squadrons of small fighters of various shapes and sizes engaged the enemy.
The Azrael had two huge ships, roughly the same size as the Batteroon, which looked like giant trees that had most of their branches sheared off, but still had a complex root system attached to the base.
These two command ships were surrounded by hundreds of medium-sized fighters, shaped like giant insects with wings made of long tentacles that moved and weaved together as the ships banked and fired.
The planet Tarvos hung in the distance like a watchful eye coolly observing the battle. The large planet once had a beautiful ring formation, the ice and rock danced and spun around it, but over time the humans had fused the outer layer of the ring into a single solid piece, and had long since converted it into a colossal defensive base known as the Ring of Durle.
Below, the planet’s surface was overed in metal, the entire planet having been encased in a protected environment. The metallic shielding glinted the color of flaming brass in the sunlight.
Aubrey pulled up a schematic of the planet. She ran through the defense capabilities of the Ring of Durle. In all her classes on strategic defense, she had never encountered this kind of firepower before.
This small planet could likely withstand a fleet a hundred times the size of the one the Azrael had sent. It seemed folly.
And why were the Azrael targeting Tarvos in the first place? While heavily defended, it was a minor planet in a sparsely populated system.
If anything, Sulis, the other colonized planet in the Yamari system, was a much more attractive target. Home to one of the major Genematics research stations, the planet was replete with research and development in bio warfare and life engineering specialties, while Tarvos simply seemed to house enough firepower to blast an enemy to smithereens.
It held no strategic value whatsoever, like a fortified castle in the middle of a swamp.
“Watch closely, students, the Azrael forces are fighting extremely conservatively,” he pointed to the squadrons of Kether fighters, which weaved in formation close to the larger, tree-like Hod battleships. “Notice how they rarely move outside the protective range of the Hod’s main cannons. Occasionally you’ll see one tip just outside range to engage-“ he paused. “There, you see? Along the seventh degree of the X axis.”
He was, of course, correct, a small squadron of Kether fighters had moved beyond the protective fire of the Hod battleships and engaged one of the Dragoons. Several of the Kethers took serious damage, and the squadron was forced to retreat.
The Dragoon followed, hot on their trail, smelling blood in the air. In the heat of the moment, the captain had fallen for the ruse, and brought the Dragoon within firing range of one of the capital ships, which tore through the Dragoon with a battery of heavy laser fire, spilling the crew into the vacuum.
“Stupid mistake,” Nam Rood said, wincing. “Remember, you can never let your emotions get the best of you. Situational awareness is paramount in battle.”
Another Dragoon succumbed to a rapid succession of carefully timed missile barrages. Nam Rood shook his head. “Who is in command of the fleet?” he asked.
“Vice Admiral Radha Malik” Captian Lendix answered.
Nam Rood turned to his students. “Radha Malik was recently promoted, and his inexperience is showing. His fleet lacks discipline, and his orders are coming too late. He is reacting instead of acting. Watch the seventy-third degree flank.”
Aubrey turned her attention to a small opening near a grouping of the square, bulky Hobgoblins. Several minutes went by and nothing happened. Aubrey thought perhaps Nam Rood was wrong, until she noticed the gap between the Hobgoblins and the rest of the fleet slowly widening.
“Shouldn’t we warn them?” she asked.
“We’re here to observe and learn,” Nam Rood replied. “As a Commander, sometimes the hardest thing to do when you can’t control a situation is accept you can do nothing.”
As the minutes ticked by, Aubrey began to sweat. She wanted to scream out a warning. But it was too late. The gap widened. The trap had been expertly laid, and a swarm of the Kethers descended on the Hobgoblins the instant they were out of range of the rest of the fleet’s weaponry.
The Dragoons unleashed a volley of missiles, but they would not reach their intended targets until the Hobgoblins had been wiped out, leaving a debris field that protected the Kethers from the missiles.
The Alliance lost seventy ships - the Azrael, two.
The humans were winning the battle, but the number of casualties being inflicted by the Azrael was impressive, especially given the size of the fleet. Nam Rood’s jaw tightened, and Aubrey could tell he was as frustrated as she was. Although he would refuse to admit it.
“This is a wonderful demonstration of the importance of Command,” Nam Rood said. “I’m more afraid of the fleet of one thousand sheep led by a single lion, than a fleet of ten thousand lions led by one sheep.” He covered his eyes as another Dragoon exploded spectacularly. “What a waste,” he muttered.
“At least they died with honor,” Nergal answered softly.
“Honor?” Nam Rood sneered. “In war, there is no place for honor. There is only blood and steel. The goal of war is not to die for your cause, but to make the enemy die for theirs. Any battle where the enemy inflicts greater casualties is a failure.” Another Dragoon lost. “And by that measurement, this is shaping up to be an unmitigated disaster.”
The fierce clash raged on. The Azrael were stubborn in their attack, repelling wave after wave of Alliance fighters. New ships periodically arrived from the Ring of Durle, filling the ranks of the depleted Alliance forces.
Her classmates cheered as the Alliance fleet pushed the Azrael back. Or were they pulling back? Aubrey had noticed that the Azrael had subtly shifted their maneuvers. Instead of pushing forward into the Alliance ranks, feinting and pulling the advanced ships into the range of their massive Hods, they now seemed to be backpedaling, still feinting, but pulling further away from their target. They were slowly withdrawing from the planet Tarvos.
And with their subtle withdrawal, and the Alliance fleet followed, pressing what they viewed as their advantage.
“High Commander?” Aubrey asked. “How many re-enforcements are available on the Ring of Durle?”
Nam Rood glanced at his readouts. “Two more full squadrons.”
“How long would it take to jump another fleet here?”
Again, he studied his display, pulling up data sources Aubrey didn’t have security clearance to access.
“It looks like we’ve driven back the Azrael from the Skanda System, although the fleet there took significant losses. Our forces are still engaging heavy hostilities in both the Jabru and Durga Systems. We could theoretically have two major fleets here within fifteen minutes. More than enough time to intercept the enemy should they defeat the current fleet,“ Nam Rood answered.
“They aren’t trying to defeat the fleet. They’re drawing it out, away from Tarvos.”
Nam Rood’s eyes narrowed as his gaze returned to the battle. He scanned through the data, glancing back to watch the Azrael fleet’s movements. “You’re right. But to what end? If they don’t have the jump key for the planet itself, they can only jump additional resources to their fleet’s current position.”
Aubrey thought for a moment, her eyes scanning the battlefield. Another explosion lit up the inky blankness of space. Behind it floated the thick debris field where the chunks of shattered ships spun and whirled. Her aglets danced as she studied the motion of the shards of metal and bodies.
She pulled up a section of debris, the one closest to the planet, and ran a tracking sequence to follow the debris field to its origins. It came from some of the first ships lost by the Azrael, in an obvious mistake where the pilot repeatedly dipped past the defensive fire of their Hod ships.
A mistake they had not repeated since the initial assault.
“Alzar” she said quietly. “Can you analyze the momentum and gravity effects on the debris from this explosion?”
“Why of course,” he said cheerfully. “What am I looking for?”
“Anything weird.”
She waited for a moment while Alzar ran calculations far too complex for a human to handle.
“It would appear that the debris field is not where it should be,” Alzar finally said.
“Show me.”
Alzar took control of her display. “Here’s a simulation of where the debris field should have dispersed.”
He ran through a series of explosions, and the debris field stayed relatively stationary, spreading out slowly, until it met and mingled with other debris fields.
“Instead, this is what happened.”
He replayed the explosions, with the debris from those specific ships highlighted in red. Aubrey watched as the debris slowly, subtly changed direction. The movements were nearly imperceptible, but slowly the debris field made its way to Tarvos. In another five minutes, it would make contact with the Ring of Durle.
“Even accounting for unknowns and the chaos factor, it is very much out of position,” Alzar concluded.
“High Commander, you need to see this,” Aubrey said as she waved her aglet in the air, sending Alzar’s analysis to his HUD. He watched the simulation Alzar had run, then stood, staring out at the battlefield.
His aglets danced.
“This is High Commander Nam Rood flying on the Tiamat. I am taking control of the fleet. All ships disengage and fall back to a defensive position just outside the Ring of Durle.”
“Commander?” Captain Lendix asked curiously.
“Us too,” he said. He glanced over at Aubrey. “I have a hunch.”
“Yes, sir,” Captain Lendix said, before turning back to her command post. “Prepare to jump on my mark.”
The now familiar sinking feeling pulled Aubrey as the Tiamat jumped to a new position, just outside the ringed base. Up close, the Ring was incredible, a defensive fortress unlike anything Aubrey had imagined possible. Gun and missile batteries lined the entire surface, visible even from such a great distance. Aubrey shuddered to think of how huge the ammunition must be; the damage it could inflict.
“I’ve ordered two available fleets to join us,” Nam Rood announced through the coms. “They will be here in precisely thirteen minutes. We are to hold this position until then.”
“Against what?” a voice crackled back, annoyance edging in. “We had the enemy on the ropes.”
“No, Vice Admiral Malik, you were being pulled out of defensive position and being set up for a classic pincer movement.”
“How?” he bristled. “Their fleet is too small to divide, there was no way they could have surrounded us.”
As if in answer, the debris field Aubrey had noticed out of place suddenly took on a life of its own. Rockets fired, sending the pieces flying directly at the planet’s surface.
“Are those missiles?” Nam Rood asked.
“Negative,” Captain Lendix answered. “They’re small satellites designed to resemble ship debris. No explosives detected.”
“Open fire!” Nam Rood shouted.
“Why? It’s a waste of firepower,” Vice Admiral Malik cut back. The rest of the fleet ignored the Vice Admiral’s hesitation and released a volley of missile and laser fire. It was too much though, too many individual pieces scattered, the ship A.I.’s were struggling to target them all. Momentum was against them now too. Even when they were cut apart by laser fire, the pieces continued to head towards the planet’s surface.
“Cease fire,” Nam Rood ordered, and the barrage stopped. “Prepare to target any enemy ship that appears near the debris field. Hit them with everything you’ve got.”
An uneasy silence fell over the fleet. Aubrey could feel herself sweating. This was not how she had expected her day to turn out. Nam Rood’s finger tapped impatiently on the railing in front of him. “Where are you?” he muttered to himself.
Aubrey was not prepared for what happened next. Two massive white spheres appeared, obscuring her vision. Her HUD display identified them as Geburah class Battlespheres, but the things were so monstrous they dwarfed even the mighty Tiamat. At least seventy-five miles in diameter, their hot Plasma shields glowed a brilliant white, giving them the haunting appearance of miniature stars.
“May the Five help us,” Vice Admiral Malik said over the coms.
“What are you waiting for?” Nam Rood shouted. “Open fire!”
A volley of missiles, lasers, and projectiles poured out of the remaining Alliance forces. The Ring of Durle unleashed hell, a wave of attacks so powerful Aubrey’s jaw hung slack in horror.
The southern pole of the two Geburah slowly opened, expanding like a clawed hand, revealing black and gray metal stalactites underneath. Something resembling dust poured out, and it took Aubrey several moments to realize it was a swarm of fighters.
“All ships, focus your fire on the opening of those Geburah battle spheres,” Nam Rood barked. “Ignore the fighters that are moving to engage. Let the short range defenses handle them.”
Aubrey understood the logic behind his plan. As their weapons sprayed and destroyed thousands of the small fighters, the massive opening soon clogged with debris. The flow of fighters slowed from the Battlespheres.
However, the Ring was taking heavy damage from the forces that had closed the distance. A huge section on the far end of the battle had sustained heavy damage. The bulkhead glowed red hot in several places, and the metal shielding began to buckle.
“Vice Admiral, take the seventh squadron, intercept those Malkuth fighters spiraling towards the Ring,” Nam Rood ordered. “Delay them as long as you can.”
“Yes, sir,” came the answer, without hesitation. A squadron of thirteen Dragoons split off from the main force to intercept a mass of ships so numerous Alzar struggled to keep a tally on the number.
“You want to see real courage?” Nam Rood, said, never taking his eyes off the battle, his aglets dancing in the air. “This is it. A Vice Admiral who knows he’s lost before the fight has even begun, but who fights on regardless.”
The Vice Admiral’s squadron was heavily outnumbered. He moved his formation to the new station assignment and established his threat axis, ensuring they would inflict maximum casualties as the tiny blue and silver Malkuth fighters bore down on them.
The Tiamat lurched heavily to the right. Several students toppled to the floor, their seats unable to compensate for the sudden motion. The Geburah Battlesphere nearest to them had opened fire with its main battery of warheads. Nam Rood gripped the railing of the observation balcony tightly to steady himself as the ship reeled a second time. The metal beast groaning loudly under the strain.
“Attention fleet, they’re going to clear the debris field at the base soon, it’s too clogged. The second you see those bombs drop, fire every anti-matter bomb you have right up the gut of the first Battlesphere,” he shouted.
Sure enough, three enormous electrodynamic particle bombs dropped and burst, sending a wave of magnetic energy outward, pushing the loose debris away from the ship. As the debris field cleared, it was replaced by the collective might of the Alliance forces. The intensity of the explosion forced Aubrey to look away.
She then heard the students cheering.
A large chunk, roughly a quarter of the Battlesphere’s hull, had been blown free and slowly drifting away from the body of the ship as it gently spun. Like a wounded animal, the Battlesphere limped backwards, rotating its wound away from the firefight.
“Well, that got their attention,” Captain Lendix said. “Brace for impact!”
A salvo of heavy weapons fire tore through the Tiamat. The massive vessel rocked and bounced like a bag in the wind, and each rumble sent shivers up Aubrey’s spine as deep moans emanated from within the ships belly.
She braced herself for the worst. Other students began to cry or pray to the Five.
“Sir, it has been an honor and-“ Vice Admiral Malik’s voice was cut off as his ship exploded. Only one of the Dragoons from his squadron remained, and it was a matter of seconds before it joined the rest of them.
Nam Rood licked his lips. The Ring of Durle was weakening, the Azrael were focusing their fire on the section that had already taken heavy damaged. Under this barrage the whole section might collapse, sending the ring into a free fall into the planet’s surface. There would be nothing left as the mile-long chunks slammed into the planet’s surface, doing more damage than any missile barrage could hope to.
The Azrael meant to destroy the entire planet, not capture it.
“We need to put ourselves between those ships and that hole,” Nam Rood shouted to Captain Lendix.
“I’m not sure we can make it; main propulsion is offline,” the Captain answered.
“Find a way.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered. “We’ll try, sir.”
The ship limped forward. Nam Rood looked at the timer, which he had sent to all HUDs in the fleet. Three minutes. They needed to hold out for three more minutes.
The Tiamat made its way to the hole in the Ring’s hull that continued to expand under the Azrael assault. Both Battlespheres now focused their fury on the Tiamat.
The roar was deafening as the ship was showered with missiles and lasers. Aubrey covered her ears and watched as Nam Rood continued to shout orders. She couldn’t hear his commands, but watched as a squadron of Hobgoblins split off from the main force and swung low, below the wounded Battlesphere.
The Azrael must have realized their time was nearly up. They intensified their attack, ignoring the squadron, which swung behind and up into the wounded Geburah ship. Once out of sight, Aubrey could only guess at what they were doing.
That is until the Battlesphere jolted and swelled. Smoke and gas poured out the new seams and cracks that appeared in the top half of the ship’s gleaming surface.
The whole thing exploded, sending chunks of wreckage spiraling out into space.
Nam Rood slapped his hand on the railing, grinning broadly. His smile was short-lived though, as the undamaged Battlesphere intensified its attack against the Tiamat.
“Captain?” Nam Rood said. “How much longer can we withstand this?”
“Propulsion is nearly gone, sir,” she answered. “Once we’re dead in the air, they’ll simply push us out of the way with a few well-placed anti-matter bombs.”
Nam Rood stroked his chin. “Then crash us into the surface.”
“What?” the Captain said incredulously.
“You heard me,” Nam Rood answered, his calm voice an anchor in the storm. “If our propulsion systems are going to fail, we’ll at least be able to function as an additional fortification and weapon battery. And if you aim right, we can protect at least part of the hole with our hull.”
“Yes, sir,” Captain Lendix said, a distinct lack of enthusiasm in her voice.
Aubrey gritted her teeth as the ship moved towards the surface of the Ring. Most of the other students were lying flat on the ground, occasionally screaming and yelping when a particularly loud explosion rocked the ship, convinced it was the end. Only Aubrey and Twiki both stood, grasping the railing, watching the battle unfold.
The seconds ticked by, each moment agony as they were pounded by the Azrael.
“We’ve got critical system failure!” Captain Lendix shouted. “Shut down the Funicular Engines before we lose containment!”
Nam Rood closed his eyes as he gripped the railing. Aubrey understood why. All they could do now was wait. For death or salvation.
A flash of light reflected off of his weathered face. Nam Rood slowly opened his eyes and smiled. Aubrey followed his gaze, and saw the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes on. An entire squadron of twenty Batteroons appeared directly behind the Geburah Battlesphere and opened fire.
More ships soon followed. Vessels of all shapes and sizes, from tiny Squeets to the massive Bodak repair and manufacturing carrier, the largest ship in the Alliance fleets.
The crew of the Tiamat cheered as the fleet lit the remaining Azrael forces up. The Malkuth fighters withdrew in an attempt to return to the protection of the remaining Battlesphere, but the Alliance fleet was having none of it. Most were destroyed en route. Once their bay door closed, the now heavily damaged Geburah jumped out of the system.
Nam Rood finally sat in his chair, exhausted, his brow drenched in sweat. A chant slowly spread amongst the crew of the ship as Rexotocin flooded their bodies simultaneously with the intoxication of victory.
Aubrey could hear Nam Rood’s name being shouted over the coms of the entire fleet. He had singlehandedly saved the billions of lives of those who lived on the planet below.
His face stoic, he looked up at Aubrey. His lips pulled tight, he gave her a single nod.