Merry Christmas.
He felt numb. He watched his hands move but could not feel them. His mind clouded as different scenes passed before his consciousness. But he did not hesitate. He pushed the joystick down and pulled the trigger. The cannons pulsed out a stream of energy. A Zeus bomber flew by with a fraction of a second to spare. The Dragon fighter behind it was not as lucky. The orbs from the Kayser cannons punched through the hull and out the other side. The Dragon tumbled through space as if it was a plane whose wing caught a cliff and exploded.
Then his mind was fuzzy once more as it raced with thoughts yet didn't. The past few weeks had been like scenes from a nightmare. The offensive had been a huge success. With the power of the Galatea and Omega it seemed unstoppable. GTVA forces pushed ahead of the two battleships and what had been like a nightmarish roadblock were halted. The Shivans had pulled a new trick. Instantly no Shivan ship could be picked up by sensors and the massacre began. As an unstoppable tsunami they counter attacked. All targeting systems were rendered useless as we all torpedoes and missiles. Tens of thousands of GTVA pilots we killed within days as the blood thirsty enemy tore through entire battle groups. Yet even with a incredible tactical advantage the Shivans changed as well. They toyed with the pilots and seemed to fight with unholy honor and dignity. They chose to engage in dogfights were they could see the eyes of their victims the moment before they died. Massive warships fought less than two hundred meters apart with standard cannons instead of beams.
He noticed a glimmer and pulled back on the joystick. He pushed his throttle forward. He questioned if he was alive or dead yet failed to care.
The real issue came when a Sathanas was able to jump behind the Omega and hit it with its hellish power. The Omega was able to fend off the attack as the crews aimed the cannons manually but not before significant damage was done. With the Omega back in Vega for repair, the Galatea stood alone as the only true repellant for a further incursion. A task the Captain accepted with feverish delight.
His mind wondered back as the dark object grew closer. A distant pounding in his ears.
The pain was multiplied as a new class of a Shivan fighter appeared. Pilots named it the Cherub after the angel described in the Holy Scriptures. A name that matched the ship perfectly. The ship could move any direction in a second, sliding and juking as it's eight cannons dealt out death. It had no secondary armament however which added to it's feared status. It wanted to fight personally and once locked on to a target would fight until one or the other succumbed.
Numbers appeared in his mind and he found his lips whispering them out.
"Three, two...."
The two ships now locked in a jousting match. The winner, life, the loser, death.
Red beams cut right above his heavy fighter, barely grazing his upper shields. When the Mara was less than fifty meters away he fired. The Kaysers punched into the cockpit and the front section crumpled. As if the pilot had seen the Holy City, the ship sailed off at full power into the pitch black darkness.
Eventually the GTVA pilots hardened off and repelled the temporary advance. The veteran pilot like the pilots of old were changed into inhuman warriors.
"Two"
Yes the GTVA was able to change enough to be able to target Capital ships. But the pilots, for their blood was ice. He hated them. He killed them in his sleep.
"Two!"
He would slaughter them with his bare hands if he were given the chance. And any human who stood in his way would suffer the same.
A glimmer caught his eye and he consciousness snapped back with a startling jolt. He looked to his right only to be looking into the eyes of Alpha three, Lessa Holbrook. Lessa stood about 5'6" with dark skin and jet black hair which she always kept pulled tight in a bun. Despite her rather plain features, her piecing green eyes along with her serious personality made her quite attractive among the pilots. The last to make a pass at her though was a rookie that transferred in from the GTD Scepter. No one talks about it though as the pilot was out of commission with the loss of two teeth and a concussion. No one talks of him either as he was killed in his second engagement a month ago. Holbrook was a very capable pilot easily matching his skill yet at a much younger age. She also was his valued wingman, despite only being so for the past month.
"Two, Captain wants to know if you are ok."
He could see the concern on her face despite the oxygen mask.
"I'm....I'm ..."
He spoke across the intercom in a half daze. It was then he realized that his Erinyes was motionless. Then the burning began in his hands. He pulled off his gloves to see his hands blood covered from the blisters and sores. Due to the ability of the enemy to not be detected and targeted by AAA beams, a constant twenty four hour patrol was needed around capital ships. He couldn't remember the last time he slept. He snapped his mask on, not remembering when it fell off.
"I'm fine three. "
" That was a risky move, but good shot. "
The normally strong but now tired and raspy voice of Captain Pike came through.
Then a green flash startled him.
" That will do it, all fighters stand back from the Iho."
He turned his head to see the Rakshasa cruiser be finished off by the Malcolm a Deimos class corvette. Flames ran down both sides and then the cruiser shattered into millions of glowing embers.
Space was quiet for a moment.
"Attention fighters we have a incoming subspace signature. It's small likely cruiser class."
Just as the message was finished the blueish white light of a subspace portal opened around four klicks away and a black figure emerged. He zoomed in with his helmet lens and noticed the clear three pronged head of a cruiser.
"Attention this is Alpha two, I'm seeing a Cain class cruiser. Anyone want to help me wreck it?"
"This is Three, I'm in."
" Beta One here, our wing will provide the boom you provide the distraction. "
"We will move into position to manually aim our cannons. But it will take a few minutes if you need us"
The Deimos corvette responded
As he increased engine speed he watched as Holbrook and the Beta squad of Zeus bombers began fall in. As they closed in past two klicks his gut cooled. A Cain class cruiser was a push over by military standards. A few well placed torpedoes and it would be out of commission. What bothered him though was Beta squad would have to launch they torpedoes at close range dummy style. He imagined the dive and torpedo bombers of eras ago. Close and personal, yet fraught will things that could go wrong. Then his senses became alert as a bright blue energy ball formed on the main cannon of the cruiser. The energy quickly grew larger. His mind raced, something was wrong. Then he realized.
"That's a Lilith. Malcolm pull back!"
As he screamed into the intercom, the light of the cruiser flashed on revealing the bulkier wicked looking design of a Lilith class cruiser. The whole thing covered in thick armor. But his warning came too late. The main cannon of the Lilith tore through the space near the wing of GTVA craft into the Corvette's rear side. The Deimos bowed as the energy beam tore through the other side. Fire and debris pouring out through the gaping wound. The lance of energy lasted for six seconds leaving a hole a Ursa could fly through. The Corvette completely helpless.
"It got our Engines. We have no power. "
Screamed the Malcolm.
"We have to take out that cannon."
The group closed on as turrets from the cruiser belted out flak and AAA fire. He raked the cruiser with his guns but the armor was barely scratched. He heard an explosion and felt the shock wave. Beta wing had made a hit. He pulled his fighter underneath the belly of the ship, trying to make a run on the main cannon. Flak bursted all around him shaking his small fighter like a kite in the wind. He heard a beep and it was two late to react. A dragon fighter nailed him right behind the cockpit. The laser punched his shields and blew a chunk out of his hull. Sparks popped in his cockpit as his HUD faded. The dragon prepared to make another run but was shredded by Alpha Three before it fired another shot. He aimed the best he could and pulled the trigger. A couple of shots fired before warning buzzers screamed and the computer shut the weapon system down to maintain life support. He cursed as he watched as the energy formed on the cannon once more and fired. This time the beam hit the corvette dead center. As the beam tore through the ship once more, fires and explosions rippled across the bow. The beam faded out but he watched as the ship cracked in the middle as a child breaks a stick in two. With a bright flash the shockwave shattered the remains of the vessel.
Ten minutes was all the time needed to turn the Lilith into a burning hulk. Flames spouted from cracks and holes in the dense armor. Explosions occasionally blowing out chunks as internal systems failed. The top most horn missing. Despite the terror a Lilith cruiser could provide to capital ships, it still succumbed easily to a wing of bombers even with the tough shell.
The fighter and bomber wings flew into the hangar of the Vega. Both sides of the massive bay filled with worn fighter and bombers, some that didn't even look fit to pilot. As he taxied in he noticed a Herc Mk 2. The cockpit had been nailed with flak shell, with most of it missing. Techs were furiously working on it, with cranes lowering parts and sparks from welders flying. No doubt it was towed in with some hope of saving it. He pitied the pilot who would be assigned that fighter. Ships such as it were said to be bad luck.
He set his Erinyes into an empty bay and within moments a team of mechanics swarmed the craft and a ladder was pushed to the cockpit. As the glass raised he turned around to see the charred hole. In his mind he knew what the result would have been if the shot hit two meters toward the front of the craft. Then emotion overcame him. Not a sense of fear or thankfulness, but of rage and anger. Angry at today, part of himself rethinking the past and putting that laser in the cockpit. How his blood seethed and burned in his veins. He stepped down from the fighter and threw his helmet toward the side of the hangar. The noise rang across the room as it hit the metal beams.
Pike had just opened his cockpit. He looked around the bay half standing and half leaning for support. He looked over his wing. Holbrook had just opened her craft and stepped off the ladder. He watched as she slowly removed her helmet which left her hair frizzed and she let out a deep breath. It amazed him how much the lack of sleep and exhaustion could age a person. She was only twenty four but for the moment she looked twice her age. He looked around and found the same for Levi Tolson, Alpha Four. Levi joined the Knights as most young hotshot pilots do, confident and brash. Levi was beaming with self confidence in his abilities. The last few weeks had changed that. He had seen nothing but death and carnage. Now Levi was humble and quiet and rarely spoke much. After every sortie the relief was clear in his eyes that he survived another day when others did not. However he was a good pilot and Pike was also happy to be able to worry about himself than his new rookie wingman. Then he felt alone. He looked over the crowd and realized how little he knew each face. They all were strangers. The faces of the ones he had worked with for years very few in number. He lost two thirds of his squadron in the revolt and now it was only two left, Heirden and himself. He lost his long time wingman McKinley four weeks ago. He quickly brushed off that train of thought and his mind flipped to today. That was the third time a capital ship had been lost in that fashion. With the sensors still not able to lock on anything below a destroyer, the act of mistaking a Lilith for a Cain had proved catastrophic. Something about this war bothered him. In the last war Shivans used numbers and superior craft to wage war. This time they were devious. The way they fought was devilish. He knew if several cases where disabled ships were left until the pilot ran out of air or died of injuries. Then he knew of cases of honor where they had allowed ships to be repaired before destroying them. It all didn't make sense. As he thought he snapped back into reality as he gazed at Heirden, helmet off in a quick walk head to the front of the bay. He watched the next group of fighters roar out of the bay for patrol and then he heard it, the sound of yelling.
Heirden didn't understand nor could he in his current state. The poor duty officer on the other end couldn't as well.
"I demand to be put on the next rotation and my craft be fit for action!"
"Sir I have orders that all pilots must take twelve hours rest before next duty. I can't change that."
"Forget the orders, I demand that you change the order at this moment."
Heirden's face was red as he screamed two inches from the face of the officer.
Pike hurried over.
"What is going on here?"
The officer gave a helpless look at Pike.
"I told him I have orders to make any pilot take a rest of twelve hours before they can be returned to active duty."
Heirden looked at Pike.
"No I will be returned to active duty at th..."
Pike interrupted.
"Hey power down, we all are warn ragged at this point and a little rest is a godsend."
To Heirden, Pike could not have said a worse insult.
"No I have to do this. I'm needed out there. "
"Look today is upsetting, we all feel for what happened today. "
"Look if I had properly identified that cruiser our corvette would still be here and it's crew still alive. "
"Be realistic, no one could have properly identified that cruiser at that range. They even had the lights off so we couldn't have known. I'm upset about it, we all are."
Heirden glared at Pike.
"Apparently some of us are just too tired to let others do something about it. "
The tone from Heirden made Pike stiffen. His patience was worn through and that thinly veiled insult was enough.
"Lieutenant Heirden you leave me no choice. In front of these witnesses I declare you unfit for duty. If you even step foot in this hangar for the next twenty four hours you will be removed from this squadron. Do I make my self clear."
Heirden was shaking, his lips quivering and teeth clenched. He had never been so angry. He stared at Pike and breathed deeply for a rebuke. Then he realized the hangar was silent, all eyes were on him. He then noticed Holbrook and Tolson standing a few meters behind Pike, their eyes full of shock and concern. He felt himself back up before slowly walking to the automated door.
Pike hated to do that to a squad mate and friend, but he had seen this before. If left unchecked a pilot with that deep of exhaustion and rage would kill himself and possibly others.
The rage melted as he walked down the hall. The manic energy was replaced by pain and exhaustion. He felt like he was limping, fighting a losing battle for each step. His hands burned, his gloves pulled at the sores with each step as he tried to keep himself balanced. He thought about going to the medical ward for a stimulant but at the risk of becoming addicted as many pilots did, he waved off the thought. He walked into the pilots lounge. The room was dimly lit with a few pilots eating or talking at a table. The man behind the bar asked if he needed anything. Heirden shook his head in a wobbly motion and found a small table in the back of the room and sat down. Immediately exhaustion overcame him and his emotions became unglued. Thoughts whirled in his head that he couldn't make sense of. Scenes of family and home, and pilot academy flooded his mind. He pushed against the side of his head with his hands and wept.
