War Angel: part forty-four

2142- In Orbit Around Saturn

As the trickle of bodies from the Omegan ship began to slow down, Gina turned her attention away from the helm and to Jack. “So. Now what?”

Jack looked at her, puzzled. He began to speak, but stopped before completing a word. Suddenly he realized that the entire bridge was staring at him, waiting to take their cues from the man that had led them to this point. Finally, he flicked a comm. switch built into his chair.

“Doctor Gray, please report to the bridge. We have some injuries that need tending.”

Her reply was short. “I don’t doubt it. On my way.”

Jack stood and walked to the front of the bridge, their eyes following him with every step. “Kate- what’s the earliest their backup could be here?”

She fiddled with her instruments. “Call it two hours on the quickest end.”

Jack pondered that for a moment, then cracked his knuckles. “Okay. For safety’s sake, that gives us an hour and forty-five minutes to get as much out of that ship as we can.” The bridge door opened and Wilma walked in. She spotted Sarah first and immediately approached her and began working on the cuts on her head. Jack continued, “here’s the way it will go: Gina, Kate, and Dr. Gray will suit up and head to the Omegan ship. Kate will disembark first and clear the ship of remaining personnel.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “So this is why you wanted me out of lockdown, you sneaky bastard,” she thought.

“Gina, you and the Doctor will stay in the ship until Kate has cleared a path. Then the two of you will use the lack of gravity to get as much stuff moved and loaded onto our shuttle as you possible can. Kate can help as well once she’s done.”

“And the rest of us,” Richard asked.

“We could use a smoother ride. After all, we’re going to be leaving here very quickly. Lots of places very quickly, as it turns out. Make sure the scoop is ready and the inertial dampening system gets some tune up.”

Jack looked up and saw that Sarah was staring him down from the rear of the bridge. “In the meantime, Sarah and I will work on the port shields. Time permitting, we’ll tackle cannon three. During this time, we’ll be sticking to call signs only, just in case they have any equipment still broadcasting and/or recording.” He paused. “Any questions?”

Looking at the rest of his crew, Jack could see that they were loaded with questions. But no one chose to voice a single one.

“The clock starts ticking now. Let’s get to work.”

The magnetic boots held Kate tight to the floor of the Omegan vessel, something for which she was very grateful. Her movements were slow and deliberate, up until the points where something else was required. As she turned to walk down a different corridor, it was apparent that something else was about to be required.

A bright blue bolt of energy flashed across her helmet, narrowly missing her head and impacting the wall behind her. Kate ducked, her suit slowing her down only a fraction, and relied on the boots to keep her steadied. From her belt she drew a gun quite similar to the one that Jack had used to kill Captain Morrison.

Her focus shifted- would she use this gun to kill Jack?

The second blast hit the floor in front of her, sending sparks and small pieces of debris flying. Her focused returned, she took steady aim and saw two Omegans in full spacesuits twenty yards away from her. They were clearly unaccustomed to wearing the bulky gear, as was Kate, but she felt it gave her the advantage. She was smaller, faster, and wasn’t in shock they way the Omegans had to be. They had just gotten their asses kicked in a way they could have never anticipated, and one thing the military taught you was that when you had the enemy in shock you had to promote that shock.

She took off in the closest thing to a run that the boots would allow, heading directly for the Omegan soldiers. The two seemed flustered and were unable to draw a bead on her, a problem that Kate did not have. She squeezed the trigger, deftly targeting her foes in the helmet and torso, and saw her blasts rip through their suits. Blood spurted and splattered in wild globules, flying into the weightless environment and forming perfect spheres of liquid death. The bodies collapsed to the ship’s deck, and Kate knelt beside them to grab their guns and make sure they didn’t have backup systems. Once she was sure the pair were dead, she activated her comm. system.

“F.A. to War Angel.”

The speaker in her helmet crackled to life. “Go ahead, F.A. This is Desperado on the line.”

“Encountered more resistance, but it has been… quelled. Two enemy down.”

“Acknowledged. Prognosis?”

“Pathway to cargo is clean. Start excavating. I’ll watch their backs.”

“Will do. Desperado out.” Jack flipped off the comm. switch and then toggled a second one. “Hime, Doctor… Desperado here. You are clear to begin transferring of goods. F.A. is watching over you.”

Wilma Gray’s voice was crisp in its response. “Acknowledged, War Angel. We are go.”

War Angel: part forty-three

From the Journal of Steven Keys- September 16, 2018

They asked me to come to the warehouse where they were working on the pod today, and I agreed, not knowing what they could want. Still, what was I going to do? Lie around on the beach and work on my tan? I’m bored, I realized this morning.

I never thought I would be bored in any serious way ever again.

A few of the scientists were working on the outer hull, and another one was inside. I wandered into the pod, and Yoshi (finally I know and remember someone’s name here!) smiled at me like that cat that ate the canary. He introduced himself and explained that it was his task to dissect and catalog the circuitry and design of the passenger section of the craft. I thought that was interesting- the scientists are being used and assigned in a very military-style precision. Anyway, my curiosity was running pretty high, so I asked him why I had been called down to the warehouse. Again, he smiled like he could barely contain himself.

He walked over to a part of the wall I hadn’t seem much of, as I had been sitting with my back to it. He asked me if I had, at any time during the flight, noticed anything special or out of the ordinary about it. I assured him that I had not, and he shook his head, still smiling. Then he said something that floored me.

“Militaristic society, these Omegans. I can’t imagine they have ever faced much in the way of resistance in their travels. But if and when they do, and they have to use these things, I can’t imagine they’d leave themselves defenseless upon landing on an alien planet.” He paused. “How many Omegans do you figure fit in one of these things?”

It was so obvious that, as he tapped away at the wall, I couldn’t believe it. The panel slid open, revealing a half dozen of the Omegan guns we had seen and used on the ship.

“Six, I guess,” I said, my face cracking into the same smile he had been wearing.

The other two guys came around to the entrance and congratulated me. Through sheer dumb luck and Ed’s ridiculous bravery, we had caught our first real break. One of them produced a small cooler and from it came four bottles of beer, a real commodity in our fucked new world. They asked me to offer a toast, and I did, thanking Ed for my life and for the gift his life had given us. After that, Yoshi and the others went to tell the military what had been found. It was only then that I realized that they had been waiting until they told me before they told the higher-ups. They wanted to give me a chance to realize what I had truly done and to honor my friend’s loss in doing so.

I love these guys.

As they went off to do their duty, I wandered away and to the beach. I needed to take it all in, I think. The scope of what was happening, both to myself and to the world at large, is still a struggle. I think I would like it to stay that way for a while, though. I have always been a very small cog in a very big world, and keeping it that way is just fine. I’m just a man. The big stuff can stay in the hands of those whose destinies were meant for bigger things.

In the meantime, I think I will volunteer to teach English to the Japanese locals that need the help, and start working on my Japanese in return. There are genuine warriors here. Time to let them do their thing, and I’ll do mine. Go save the world guys! I’ll be over here cheering you on.

From the Journal of Steven Keys- October 5, 2018

Another wave of Japanese scientists and defense force guys arrived this morning. At this rate, the island will be at full capacity before the end of the month. I was worried at first, wondering if this would draw too much attention to us and bring the Omegans down on our heads, but Colonel Runton told me we had nothing to worry about. For whatever reason, the Omegans were paying very little attention to water traffic. Best guess is that the slowness of ocean travel means that whatever is happening on the water is of very little threat at this point.

Sounds like a pretty decent guess, thinking about it. Hope we can take advantage of it.

The skies, though, are pretty much empty. Our alien visitors have essentially sent us back to the 18^th century as far as travel goes. Anything that gets into the air is either an Omegan ship or a target for one.

I’ll take a kayak, I think. That sounds safe enough.

My classes are pretty full these days, and one of the Japanese scientists that came in a week or so ago has started teaching Japanese to the Americans who are here. It is amazing how smoothly it has been working. Faced with an outside aggressor, we’ve all pulled together in ways that were probably never possible before. I’ve seen more that one American accompany a Japanese to the local Shinto shrine and light an incense, an in turn, I’ve seen a Japanese man kneel next to an American Catholic and pray with him.

Maybe the real miracle is that, in the face of an event that you’d have to believe is proof of God’s abandonment, spirituality still survives. I hope it lasts, but the pessimist in me struggles with that one.

Yoshi told me that one of the military guys has been talking about teaching a class in guerilla warfare tactics. As much as I hate to admit it, that’s probably a good idea. I want to believe that my part as a fighter is done, but that’s a joke. We’re all part of the resistance here; we’re just not taking up arms at the moment. Truth is, though, sooner or later, we’re all going to be in the fight. The Omegans are obviously here for a reason. That reason likely requires the death of most of our species. In order to survive, everybody is going to need to be ready to fight.

From the Journal of Steven Keys- October 11, 2018

It’s just like being back at the university… not. Today I was asked to guest lecture in the guerilla warfare tactics class. Talk about weird! I’ve always enjoyed coming in to other professors’ classes and engaging them in a dialogue, but talking about my first time using a rocket-propelled grenade? How easy it was to line up the sight and pull the trigger? Not exactly a topic I ever expected to be an expert on.

The Marine teaching the class- McFall is his name, I think- introduced me in a way that scared the hell out of me. I had told Colonel Runton about being part of the mission to the water treatment plant a while back, which is, I suppose, how McFall new he wanted me to speak. He opened up by speaking about that mission and then discussed blowing up the ship in orbit. At that point, he pointed out that meant I had been able to kill almost 1200 enemy soldiers, a higher kill rate than anyone else on Earth at that point.

I don’t want to take that lightly, that number. I had been born and raised in a pretty progressive family. I was taught to respect things like tact, diplomacy, and respect for all. The idea of killing… well, that isn’t what the Keys family did. The family credo was built upon four ideals: be the very best; uphold our family honor; live a life of courage; do the right thing.

As I picked up the RPG and showed it to the group of scientists and younger soldiers in the classroom that day, I wondered what my family would make of what I was doing.

Then I wondered if I still cared.

War Angel: part forty-two

From the Journal of Steven Keys- September 14, 2018

I’ve spent the last two days repeating my story over and over and over again to everyone in sight, and I think I may finally be done. That’d be a relief, as I am now immensely sick of the sound of my own voice.

Back up. Just realized I didn’t write yesterday. First day I’ve missed in a long time. Okay, so here’s how it played out: the pod escaped, the ship blew up, and I landed in the Pacific Ocean, just a mile or so offshore of an island south of the mainland. I’m told that the nearest major city is Kagoshima. Local fishermen saw my descent and alerted what I am guessing is the Japanese version of the Coast Guard and they came out to the pod ready to fight a big purple bastard or two. You can imagine their surprise when I popped out.

There some immediate misunderstandings, but with the addition of an interpreter- and hey, I am a linguistics specialist, after all- things got settled. Military personnel from Japan and the U.S. showed up to start checking out the pod and start asking me questions.

Lots of questions. Over and over. And over.

The most interesting thing was earlier today, when I sat in a small room and we watched the footage my camera shot while I was on the ship. We watched it once through, then watched again, that time slowing down and stopping at multiple spots. Sometimes the science guys would get excited and start pointing things out. Other times, the military folks would stop it and start asking questions. Everyone asked more questions of me, of course. They wanted to know everything I could remember, and I wish to hell it was more than I do. I can think back on it and pick up smells and sounds, but most of the rest was a blur.

I was TERRIFIED every single moment I spent up there, and I think that was difficult for both the scientists and the military people to understand. I get it- the science guys have spent their entire lives dreaming of shit like alien spaceships. Soldiers are trained from the very beginning to be brave and swallow their fear.

College professors are trained to catch plagiarism, drink quality teas, and to avoid sleeping with their students. Not exactly Campbell’s “Hero’s Journey” kind of stuff.

From the Journal of Steven Keys- September 15, 2018

Holy shit. They dropped the other shoe on me today.

One, ours wasn’t the only mission that day. Two other groups went into orbit with the same plan, and neither was successful. All that tried are obviously considered dead. But those losses are small compared to their consequences. Flagstaff was now a pile of smoldering rubble. The Omegans had sent a fighter squadron down and wiped it out- it was easy enough, I suppose, for the Omegans to figure out where we had boarded.

Ed had been right- everybody staying behind had been in just as much danger.

It took me a while to digest the news, honestly, because all I could think about was Nadine. I had buried her body there, but I hadn’t buried US. I still wake up every day and think about her first. I roll over and reach for her and she isn’t there, and it feels like a kick in the gut. And now her body was most likely gone. The area where we had been living immediately after the invasion was now a black scar on the planet’s hide. Our conquerors were very thorough in expressing their displeasure.

Yet, in a certain way, I feel as though a weight has been lifted from me. Had Nadine not taken her life, she would have been there during that attack and been killed. Had I stayed with her instead of volunteering for the mission, I would have died there, too. The fact is, though: I’m alive. Maybe with that video and maybe with the pod, our guys can start whipping up better defenses. Maybe they can come up with ideas on how to beat these sonsofbitches.

War Angel: part forty-one

Onboard the battle cruiser, the Omegan commander and his officers, were, like every other living member of the crew, floating helplessly out of their seats.

“Report! Report!” the young warrior demanded.

The second in command was the only one unafraid to speak. “They have destroyed our secondary internal generator. Gravity has been lost. That generator is also responsible for the running shield. If they hit us in the right spot, they could-“

As Gina matched rotation and spin with the out of control Omegan cruiser, Sarah lined up her targeting carefully. “Remember,” Jack had told her during the planning, “if you hit it wrong, it could cause a feedback wave and blow up the damned ship. And seeing as how we’d kinda like to gather some supplies, that’d be bad.”

“Don’t blow up the ship,” she absently reminded herself. Finally, satisfied that she wasn’t going to have a better look at it, she activated cannon one and blew a hole through a small area at the front of the Omegan ship.

The second in command never finished his thought. Every airlock and seal in the ship failed at the same time, opening the Omegan battlecruiser to the void. Hundreds of bodies were sucked out into the vacuum of space, flailing helplessly and trying to hold on.

It was futile. There was no atmosphere to breathe, no floor to stand upon. There was only the final thought of seeing their ancestors in the halls of Erestia.

“Holy shit,” Kate said, her sensors showing a flood of bodies pouring from the enemy ship. “We did it. We really did it.”

Jack shrugged. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

No one could tell if he was actually serious.

War Angel: part forty

The Omegan second in command gave his commander a quizzical look. “Are they attempting to escape, Lord?”

Hunched over a tactical readout, the ship’s commander found himself smiling. He straightened himself before addressing his friend. “They must be in worse shape than we thought. We hit them where it hurts and they’re fleeing for the teat of their mothers. Lay in course and follow!”

“Lord, we just lost a fighter,” the tactical officer said, his voice sounding almost happy.

“The warrior shall live on in Erestia,” the commander noted. “So may we all.” The battle cruiser began moving, following the War Angel toward the planet’s rings. “As soon as you have targeting, continue firing,” he added. Victory felt close.

The War Angel crashed through Saturn’s rings, sending a spray of dust and rock outward at high speed. The ship now appeared to be on a full run away from the Omegan cruiser, and true to their reputation the enemy was in dogged pursuit.

“They’re just about completely on our backside, Jack,” Kate noted, her eyes focused on the sensors. “Thirty seconds and they’ll have full firing solution. Fighters are taking the long way around. Ninety seconds out.”

Jack leaned forward in his chair. “Gina…” he counted to five in his head, “now!”

With a surprising amount of grace, Gina hit the braking thrusters, spun the ship along its axis and made a sharp right turn. As the War Angel cleared the hole that it had made and took a position above a full section of Saturn’s rings, Sarah wiped a fresh supply of blood out of her eyes. Jack slowly turned around toward her. She gave him a nod, indicating she was ready. “All cannons on set for bombardment.”

“Omegans closing to 1000 kilometers,” Kate said, dispassion in her voice. “750. 600. 550… 500!”

“Fire!” Jack ordered.

The War Angel’s cannons, now on their lowest setting, impacted the rings and sent material flying in a wide-angle pattern at the Omegan cruiser. The smallest particles were vaporized by the energy blast, but the larger boulders were merely given momentum. Momentum that they carried directly to the hull of the enemy craft, creating impacts that their shields were not designed to handle.

“Multiple hits!” Kate said, her joy barely contained.

“She’s all yours, Sarah,” Jack said, sitting back in the captain’s chair. “Take your shot.”

Sarah licked her blood-encrusted lips and moved her fingers slowly across the targeting screen. The Omegan ship was in distress, wobbling on her path and still approaching the hole that the War Angel had made when crashing through the rings. She watched carefully as the battle cruiser made its way through, and as it did, her primary target came into view. ‘Ten seconds to target acquisition, Captain”

“The fighters-“ Kate started to speak, but Jack gestured for her to stop.

“Target acquisition,” Sarah continued, “in two… one… firing.”

Three energy cannons sprang to life, deadly red laser bolts carving their way through the debris-strewn battlefield and hitting the same spot on the Omegan ship. An explosion tore across that section of the cruiser’s hull, sending twisted metal and four bodies flying away from the ship.

“Direct hit, Jack!” Kate began furiously working the sensor controls. “Not only did we hit our spot, we even got a hull breach out of it. Nice shooting, Sarah!” Kate stopped. “Fighters incoming in twenty seconds.”

“Full stop and 180 turn, Gina! Sarah- more nice shooting needed,” Jack said, smiling. The War Angel spun around her axis, moving her starboard side around to face the fighters while Sarah took aim. As the fighters drew in, she fired all three cannons, using the fighters’ trajectories against them. Cannon one forced the first fighter to move towards the central part of the ship, whereupon it struck one of the other fighters. The two spiraled out of control, ultimately crashing into a larger hunk of rock in one of the rings and destroying both craft. The third fighter, seemingly stunned by that turn of events, was a sitting duck, and Sarah blasted it into millions of pieces.