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spartansagas · 2 years

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Soo.....this is the first time I've ever posted something like this so go easy on me.

What follows is the most up to date draft of several scenes from my current project, The Exodus. They are in chronological order, though they are disjointed and currently missing a lot. Still, I thought I'd get my writing out there.

Current word count: 6555

April Crouch paced across her New York City apartment as the sky outside darkened and the TV blared.

"-yes, we are now getting confirmed reports that Sydney, Washington DC, Berlin and London have been destroyed by Andromedian ships. UCTN defences around the capital Reykjavik have so far held." The news anchor took a shaky breath as videos of a mountain spewing angry red magma and black smoke filled the screen. "The aliens have also been targeting a growing list of volcanoes, including Mount Fuji, Yellowstone and the Phlegraean Fields. This triggered eruptions which have kicked up an enormous layer of ash, which is causing the frigid cold and dark skies you are likely experiencing."

She snatched up the remote and turned it off. She already knew about the disastrous battle going on in orbit. After all, barely hours earlier a massive UCTN battleship, the Pearl Harbour, had come crashing down into the sea about a kilometre away. She glanced out the window. The streets were flooded with knee deep water and packed with people, all fleeing toward the Western Space Elevator, a stalk of white that jutted from an artificial island off the southern shore of Manhattan, next to the jagged bow of the wreck. She checked the sofa.

Soren Green, her three year old nephew slept quietly on the worn leather, wrapped in as many blankets as she could find.

She checked her watch.

As if on cue, someone banged on the door.

She rushed over and opened it, and her boyfriend burst in, still in his black police uniform.

"April!"

"Jack, thank god!"

She pulled him into a tight hug.

"We've got to go." He said. "Don't bother grabbing anything, just get Soren and let's get out of here!" She pulled away, still clutching his arms.

"Go? We can't! I have to wait for his parents! They were in orbit!"

"If they were in orbit." He told her calmly but firmly. "Then they're not coming back. Listen, New York is one of the last major population centres standing. The Andromedians will be coming. We have to get to the WSE!"

"Ok." She conceded. "Ok. You're right we need to go. But I can't leave yet. Not without my sister and her husband. You go on ahead, I'll meet you in orbit."

He looked distressed and open his mouth to protest.

"Go!" She cut him off and shoved him out the door. "I'll find you later!"

She slammed it shut and pressed her back against it.

She picked her phone off the table and rung her sister again.

"Hi, this is Elizabeth Green. Sorry I couldn't respond to your call, leave a message and I'll ch-"

April hung up and tried her husband instead, getting the same response.

The ground trembled once, then again, harder.

She jogged to the window, pressing her face against the glass and trying to see what was going on. The only noise was the distant screams of people in far off streets and the gentle slipping of water against the wall. The radio crackled and turned on, startling her.

"Warning. Warning. Warning. This is the United Colonies of Terra emergency broadcast system. Incoming orbital bombardment. If you are hearing this broadcast, seek shelter immediately."

The message repeated.

"Incoming?" She echoed.

A massive boom and shockwave shattered the glass and violently shook the floor, followed by another and another and another. Soren screamed and she shakily stumbled over to him, wrapping herself around him, closing her eyes and shielding him with her body.

A moment or two later, the shaking and booms stopped and the only noise to break the silence was the radio which continued blaring. Even that cut out a second later. April opened her eyes again.

Her apartment was in shambles. Paint had cracked on the walls, anything not nailed down or very heavy had been upturned, all the windows were shattered.

"Maybe we have gotta go." She murmured.

She dashed around, grabbing coats and blankets.

She scooped up Soren and opened the door. She didn't bother locking it, or even shutting it again.

She raced down the stairs.

The bottom floor was flooded with knee deep water, upon which a layer of volcanic ash floated. She stepped down into it, hissing as the cold penetrated the layers of cloth on her legs. She strode out into the street and gasped, stumbling.

The ash and water was stained a dark crimson and bodies floated in the cold water. A few shell shocked, bleeding people staggered around.

She swore, wondering whether Jack had been somewhere safe when it happened.

She took a shaky breath of worry and then steeled herself. He'd be fine, she had to get Soren to his parents. April looked up at the charcoal grey sky to orient herself.

The white windbreak of the WSE poked above the buildings of downtown Manhattan.

She began to wade through the scummy water.

After about an hour of tough slogging through the water, she was cold, wet and hungry. She had reached the bridge leading over to the artificial island that the elevator was on, and it, thankfully, was out of the water. It was still bitingly cold however. Her teeth chattered and she shivered, clutching Soren closer and trying to keep him warm.

She glanced down, checking on him. He was crying. There was no sound, only small tears which rolled down his small cheeks.

"It's going to be ok Soren." She whispered to him. "I'm gonna get you to your parents."

She crested the top of the bridge and her heart sank. Looking down the other side revealed a thick crowd, all of whom had assumedly had a similar idea to her.

She glanced up at the windbreak of the massive elevator, looming closer and closer with each step, and pushed on.

She forced her way into the throng of people, weaving through the small gaps that her short, thin build allowed her to.

There was a whir and she glanced upwards. An elevator car raced upward.

"We're so close." April murmured, more to herself than the child in her arms. She pushed through a particularly large group of people and came off the bridge, back into the water. She continued to force her way through, feeling herself tiring. Finally, she neared the front of the crowd. Four marines stood at the entrance to the elevator, admitting people through slowly and steadily, demanding calm.

They were giants, clad in sleek golden and black armour, and holding rifles almost as large as she was.

The sky overhead filled with a cacophonous roar. She glanced up. A piscine alien frigate descended, luminous green-yellow hull juxtaposed against the onyx-black clouds. It had giant curved blue fins and bristled with laser turrets.

"We're gonna die!" Someone screamed.

"No. The navy'll come." Someone else assured them.

As if on cue, a squadron of fighter jets raced overhead, letting loose a volley of missiles, followed closely by a human destroyer.

The fighters were fast, and she knew the pilots would be the best of the best (after all her sister-Elizabeth-was one of them) but they were like gnats to the giant alien vessel it hit four or five or them, sending them careening down into the crowd gathered at the foot of the elevator or into the sea either side.

The destroyer's railguns began to glow, but before it could fire, lasers sliced through it's aft engines and the ship pitched suddenly downwards. The guns discharged by the shots went wildly wide and two hitting the elevator. Small chunks of debris rained down on them. It's pointed bow collided with the ground in the middle of the city and a massive explosion turned the apocalyptic night to day.

The crowd screeched in fear and surged forward, tightening around her. She tried to break through but found she couldn't move any closer.

"Come on! Please! I have a kid!"

One of the marines' helmets swung round. He looked her up and down and spotted the child swaddled in blanks pressed against her chest.

"We got a kid here!" He declared. "Let 'em through!"

Nothing happened for a second, but the marines fired a burst of rounds over the crowd's heads. The rounds were barely audible over the scream of jet engines and the roar of the alien engines and the screaming and the elevator and the bitingly cold wind that tugged at her heavy blankets. The screaming continued, but people paid attention.

"Stop shoving! We'll get you all on cars in a moment. Now let this lady through!"

The crowd parted and the marine beckoned them after him. She trotted up to him, and he looped an arm through hers, leading her to a silver robot with a snarling maw painted onto its angular face. It too held a weapon and she froze in fear.

"Don't worry ma'am. This is Snapper, he's a CSA and he's going to show you where to go. Stick with him and your group." April nodded.

"Thank you so much!" She gasped out.

He simply nodded and headed back out of the glass door.

"This way please." A synthesized voice said and she hurried after as the robot took off at a light jog, leading her to one of the elevator cars. It was already packed with people but she didn't stop pressing in. The robot joined them and activated the car. It thrummed to life, and she could feel the vibrations beneath her feet.

It was warmer in the car than it had been outside, though it stunk of blood, ash and sweat.

The car jolted as it lifted away from the ground. She was pressed against the window, so she could see what was going on outside as the car rocketed star side.

The destroyer's wreckage burned. The alien ship continued to bombard it, and the bridges leading across to the elevator, whilst trying to swat away the fighters harrying it with missiles. She noted there were considerably less of them then there had been before, but they were keeping it occupied and stopping it from firing on the elevator itself. The car broke through the cloud layer, and the battle was hidden, with the only evidence of it's continuation blossoms of light breaking through the surface. As they began to exit the atmosphere, she spotted the debris field and her heart sank. The space around the tether was filled with wreckage. Fighters, freighters, cruisers, carriers, frigates, destroyers. Gutted. Scorched. Torn apart.

Jesus. She said a silent prayer for her sister and brother-in-law. With the scale of human losses… April closed her eyes as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, pulling Soren closer against her.

A few minutes later the car reached the counterweight and the doors opened. Snapper ordered everyone out of the car and they were met by another marine squad, who took them to a massive airlock.

They hurried inside and the doors closed behind them.

She tapped Snapper on the shoulder.

"Why are the doors closing? There were more people down there!"

"We have just received a transmission from the surface. The Andromedian vessel has destroyed the elevator's anchor. Collapse is imminent." The distant rumble of the ship's engines loudened and it lurched as it began to move away.

"Please move out of the cargo bay." It said. "Follow the other refugees."

April nodded and jogged into a corridor, which was lined with viewports. Sure enough the massive structure began to dip down into the atmosphere. One of the cables snapped and the counterweight jerked violently to the side, shedding burning bits of debris.

She glanced at the other vessels around them. Two vaguely arrowhead shaped black and gold destroyers (both heavily scarred and burned) and a surprisingly unblemished carrier, floated alongside two other civilian vessels, probably both freighters she assumed from their large cargo bays.

Then, without warning, one of the destroyers (the one with Thermopylae written on the side) released a group of fighters and shuttles which raced across to land aboard the carrier.

Then it broke off from the rest of the battle group and did a complete one eighty, opening fire with its remaining guns. She pressed against the glass trying to spot the alien ship, and flinched back when a laser pierced the massive battleship's thick forward armour.

Parts of the hull warmed to orange and belched flame.

It returned fire as it passed the end of the viewport. April felt the rumble of the engines increase in pitch and the gentle tug of acceleration.

"I wanna get down." Soren croaked. It was the first words he'd said since his parents had left for orbital deployment, two days ago.

"Ok. Stay close, alright?" She conceded and placed him down on the floor. She turned back to the viewport, trying to catch a glimpse of the melee outside.

Soren turned away. He had no idea why they had gone up here. He was cold and tired and his throat hurt. His mouth tasted coppery and dry. He toddled off down the corridor, the way they'd come, entering the massive cargo bay once again.

The door shut behind him.

Once April was sure she wouldn't see the Thermopylae she turned back to check on Soren. He was gone.

She swore loudly, ignoring the looks that came in her direction.

"Soren? Soren! Where are-"

For a second her world was boiling hot, and then the air was sucked from her lungs and she was yanked backwards.

When the universe stopped spinning at breakneck speeds, she vaguely registered the ship in front of her and tried to take deep breaths but nothing came in.

Blackness closed her eyes and she dumbly reached out for the freighter as it pulled away.

Snapper found the child stood alone in front of the massive doors.

"Child." It said. "What is your name?"

"Soren." The little boy murmured shyly.

"Come with me." The robot ordered and scooped him up.

He held the white training helmet in his hands as the ammunition lift rose into the cavernous launch bay. It was loud and chaotic, the thunder of engines, the whir of the ammunition carts and lifts, the constant shouting all fighting for dominance. Then he saw it.The simulators had been intimidating, but seeing an F-44 in person was a whole different thing.

The jet was about twice his height whilst settled on its landing gear, all sleek lines and sharp edges. Ordnance hardpoints dotted the underside of the wings. He knew it well enough by now. He knew every inch of it's thirty five metre fuselage, it's twenty five metre wingspan. He had memorised the specs on it's two LN-55 fusion engines, it's stealth coating and intuitive HUD. But seeing it for the first time in person snatched his breath away.

Dancer tapped him on the shoulder.

"You good, rookie?"

"Yes sir. Just admiring the aircraft."

"Well stop admiring and get flying. We got places to be." The older man clapped him on the shoulder with a grin.

Soren grinned right back and pulled on the flight helmet.

He jogged over to his own fighter and climbed the ladder, sitting down in the seat. Above him the canopy closed down and the din of the flight deck ceased to almost nil.

He breathed deeply, eyes running over the instrument panels as he psyched himself up. He booted up his Radar and nav computer, and then strapped in, waiting for the engine start-up confirmation.

"Sovereign Six, this is hangar control. Go for engine start-up and cleared for taxi to cat 2." A female voice said in his ear.

"Sovereign Six copies." He replied.

He flicked a switch and the aircraft thrummed to life. Satisfaction coursed through him as he throttled up and the gentle purr increased in volume to a roar. He navigated the crowded hangar and came to a stop by cat 2. Next to him, Oksana's F-44 sat ready in the catapult. The blast shield raised and she throttled up, blue cones of fire heating her vectoring pylons to a warm orange.

"Sovereign Five cleared for launch."

She saluted the ground crew and her Headhunter jolted as the catapult engaged. The craft raced forwards, disappearing out into the void.

He mimicked her, relishing the thunder of his own engines.

"Sovereign Six cleared for launch."

He saluted the ground crew as well and a second later he was crushed into his seat by acceleration as he shot out of the Yorktown's massive bay.

It was beautiful.

'Above' him was an endless void, a glittering black that shone with nebulae and hundreds of thousands of stars. The distant planets of the system glowed like lamps in the dark, balls of swirling cloud and ocean and rock.

The four F-44s accelerated away from the Yorktown.

"Today's exercise is simple: dogfighting." Dancer stated. "We split into two teams. First team to eliminate the other's pilots wins."

"What're the teams?" Knight asked.

"Knight and Prince versus myself and Harpy."

"Well that doesn't seem fair." Soren protested.

"Fair's got nothing to do with it rookie. Fight's on." With that, he and Whitworth pulled away.

Soren switched over to another channel.

"We need a plan."

"Split up and take them one on one. Go on the offensive, they'll never expect it." Oksana replied.

"Roger. You want Harpy or Dancer?"

"I'll take Harpy."

He didn't respond, simply rolled out of formation and checked his radar. Dancer and Harpy had matched the Yorktown's speed and were holding just off it's bow. From this distance, their ships were little more than jagged black shapes against the behemoth's iron grey hull. Their glass cockpits glinted in the system's star.

"Here we go." He muttered to himself and firewalled the throttle. G-force pressed him into his seat as the jet accelerated to Mach ten and he turned the ship round in a long, wide curve, bringing himself up on the pair's tail. He began to lock, but the pair split. Harpy pulled up sharply, and Dancer rolled away to starboard. He peeled off, sticking on Dancer, who led him out away from the fleet. They sped up and his Mach counter ticked up. 7….8….9….10….11.

The other pilot jinked from side to side, slipping his lock yet again, and then suddenly killed his speed, dropping him in behind Soren.

"Sorry, rookie, but these are my skies." His radar wailed a warning tone as the he began to lock on. Soren jerked to the left, then broke off to the right, back down towards the Yorktown. Dancer ignored the feign and stayed on his tail, following him close across the hull of the UCTN carrier, dodging railgun turrets, antennas and airlocks.

His eyes flitted around the space ahead of him, searching for some cover.

He found some.

"Knight, head for the planet's rings."

"Roger. So much for 'going on the offensive'."

He left the carrier behind and accelerated toward the field.

He spotted her headhunter (just a blip on his radar) racing across the void, rolling and dodging as another blip stayed hot on her heels.

"Where you running, kid?" Dancer called down comm.

"Wait and see, asshole." He replied privately.

He reached the field. Small chunks of ice and stones pinged off his wings and he plunged into the soup of rock and frozen water. Dancer's headhunter followed him in.

"Yeah that's right, keep following."

He weaved in and out of the massive chunks of rock, snatching glances behind him at the jet chasing him.

He shut off his engines, flipped the nose up and slammed on his VTOL thrusters, bleeding speed. The deceleration crushed him into his seat. His vision narrowed to pinpricks with the Gs, and every finger felt like it weighed a million tons. He clicked the machine gun trigger as Dancer whizzed through his crosshairs, lighting the other aircraft up with simulated gunfire.

Dancer grunted his approval over comm as his fighter overshot.

"Nice move rook. Not outta this yet though."

He flicked the engines back on and raced off towards Knight.

Dancer peeled off in a wide loop, out of his LOS and off his radar.

"Knight, status." He ordered.

"One sec." Her voice was strained and he saw her headhunter arc round through the debris field, followed by a hail of gunfire.

"Can't get this bitch offa me."

"Lead her out of the rings."

She didn't answer, but her jet accelerated upwards, out of the glittering ice and rock.

Another fighter followed her out, thrusters glowing with heat.

He tracked them both, opening the throttle further and closing the distance.

Soren pulled the trigger, firing in short bursts, eyes flicking between Harpy and his ammo counter.

Harpy pitched into a sudden dive. He moved to pursue and found her leading him back towards the Yorktown.

They passed over the carrier. A warning tone filled his cockpit, and a familiar voice filled his ears.

"You didn't think you'd lost me, did you rookie?"

He checked his radar and spotted another fighter, close on his tail.

Dancer. He'd forgotten about Dancer.

He glanced over his shoulder. The range was too close…. He tried to evade but Dancer stayed on him.

"Fox two!"

He swore and his inbound alarm screeched as a simulated missile raced towards him. It 'struck' him quickly and his HUD displayed CRAFT DESTROYED in bold red letters.

"Clean kill."

He watched on his long range radar as Harpy hounded Knight and then lit her up with rounds. The older woman whooped with victory.

When they landed back on the Yorktown, Dancer was waiting at the foot of his boarding ladder. He had his blue flight helmet in one hand, and he ran the other through his dark curls. His forehead, lined with years of stress, glistened with sweat.

"Nice job kid."

Soren raised his eyebrows.

"We lost the exercise." It was a statement, but Dancer got the unspoken question.

"Buddy, Harpy and I have been pilots for longer than you've been born. I've flown more combat sorties than I can count, and I've done this exact exercise with dozens of recruits. Now you, you're a rookie. You've had no real flight experience before this, excluding sims, and until two days ago, you'd never even sat in a real fighter. But you thought on your feet and you used your surroundings to your advantage and it paid off. You are the only cadet who's ever landed a hit on me in their first exercise kid. Ever." The older man clapped him on the shoulder. "You did good. Trust me."

He glanced over to where Somova and Whitworth were stood.

"Go talk to your wingman."

He walked off, shouting to the ground crew to check for dents and imperfections in the headhunters' stealth coatings from their race through the rings.

Soren jogged over to the two women.

Whitworth was explaining some kind of maneuver to Oksana, but she abandoned the effort once he arrived.

"Nice job Prince. I was just saying to Knight, you two have the skill. What you lack in experience you can make up for in teamwork, so next time try to stick together. But I like your initiative going on the offensive like that."

She turned and marched away.

Oksana turned to look at him. Her dark hair was stuck to her scalp with sweat and she looked tired, but she also looked satisfied.

"Whadda you say we grab some food?"

He took a deep breath as the F-44 coasted out of the Yorktown's massive launch bay.

Overhead, Epsilon Delta filled most of the canopy, a giant blue ball of swirling gases and violent storms that from the outside looked peaceful and serene. Distant stars and nebulae and the other planets in the system filled the space around it.

"Alright," Watts' voice rasped over the comm. "Showtime Sovereign." He switched to the command channel. "Yorktown, this is Dancer, Sovereign squadron standing by to draw off enemy fighter cover."

Another squadron of jet black fighters raced overhead.

"This is Monarch. Standing by to escort Tsar squadron."

A flight of six B-125s followed closely behind.

"This is Tsar squadron. Get us close and we'll dish out the hurt."

"All squadrons clear to engage." The Yorktown's Ops controller stated. "Good hunting."

"Sovereign, split into elements. Clear a path for the hellbringers." Dancer ordered.

Soren automatically formed up on Oksana's wing.

"Sovereign five and six, engaging." She informed the squadron, and the two of them pulled away from the formation.

"Put the burners on Prince. Let's get in and out quick, and take a few of them with us."

He opened his throttle most of the way, and armed his eight missiles and machine guns as they closed on the alien support vessel, which grew in size rapidly. It's green hull shone against the black of space, and it's massive blue fins and piscine curves gave it the look of a deep sea creature. The idea was only slightly spoiled by outrigger engine pods and the fact that the surface of the hull bristled with laser turrets.

Point defences opened up, brilliant blue lasers piercing the vacuum around him.

The Andromedian fighters that had been nothing but blips on his radar became visible. About two thirds the size of a Headhunter, they were luminous green like the support vessel behind them, with large sail-like wings and lots of fins. And it seemed like they were all coming for him.

"In gun range." Oksana stated. "Let 'em have it!"

He lined up one of the fighters in his crosshairs and pulled the trigger. Streams of brass rounds flew from the ship's two ventral machine guns. The bullets pinged off the ships' armour, leaving only some black marks on the bright green.

They blew past the enemy position and raced off astern of the massive support vessel, pitching and rolling to avoid laser fire.

He checked his radar.

"Knight, this is Prince. Three alien fighters in pursuit."

"Great." She grunted and rolled her ship to the side to avoid a barrage from the enemy fighters. "Watch for enemy fire. And speed up a little, you're falling behind."

He checked his airspeed which was passing through the fourteenth Mach, and slid his throttle even further forward.

"Sovereign did it." The Ops controller breathed. "Sixty percent of enemy fighter cover is now in pursuit, and away from the support vessel. Monarch, mop up the rest and Tsar, get set for your attack run. Sovereign squadron, stay alive."

"Roger." The three separate squadron leaders replied simultaneously.

"Sovereign, report." Dancer ordered.

"Five and six here, tally three bandits." Soren chimed in.

"Three and four, tally two. We've got ours in the run."

"Eight here, tally five bandits. Lost Sovereign seven."

Soren tuned out the others as they called out and checked his radar.

Sovereign eight, Cayman, was only fifty kilometres away.

"Cayman, this is Prince." He cut in. "Head for these coordinates." He sent a string to her navigation computer. "Make sure you're on that vector, we'll give you a hand."

"Roger." The other woman responded.

He banked to port, following Oksana's example and the two of them lined up.

To a normal person, a pass between two fighter jets at Mach fifteen would be nigh imperceptible, a flash of light at best, not enough to make out individual shapes, definitely not enough to pick targets or pull the trigger. But to an augmented pilot like Soren, those flashes of light solidified into the distinct silhouettes of fighter.

He saw the sharp lines of Cayman's Headhunter, barely metres above his head, spotted the organic curvature of the enemy craft, switched to missiles and let loose a volley of four.

The fighters whizzed past each other, and explosions blossomed, filling the space where he had been moments before with light. He checked his wing. Knight's fighter was there as it had been before.

He checked his radar. Cayman was still there, intact, but now only three hostiles pursued her. Oksana and himself had lost one of their own tails.

"Thanks for the hand." Cayman said, just as she disappeared off the edge of his radar.

"Split up. See who they follow."

"Split up? You sure?" Soren checked.

"Affirmative. If they go for me, you take 'em down, and vice versa. If they split up, then we do what we did with Cayman."

He banked left and pulled up hard, racing away from her Headhunter.

Both bandits stayed on her. He looped back around, feeling the crushing weight of the gees and matching her vector. Now behind the enemy, he locked on and fired two missiles, leaving him with only two more. Vapour trails closed the distance between himself and the two green shapes.

Two balls of light burst into being, and one of the Andromedian ships spiralled out of control. The other pulled away and accelerated rapidly back towards it's mothership.

"Bandit down." He informed her. "The other broke off."

"Well let's go get him."

They arced round in a wide circle and tore after it.

Ahead, the two other squadrons were harassing the support vessel.

One of it's outrigger engines had been completely destroyed, and the other was disabled. It's massive fins were filled with holes and giant scorch marks marred the green paint.

He tuned his radio to the command channel.

"-nope, still not making a dent in the main hull. The armour must be thicker on the main hull. Yorktown, we're almost out of ammo and bingo fuel. We gotta head back."

"Understood. All squadrons, get clear. The Stalingrad is going to see what it can do now that most of the support vessel's weaponry has been cleared out."

Sure enough, the massive arrowhead shaped destroyer crawled across the void towards the crippled support vessel.

Once the last of the B-125s was away from the vessel, the Stalingrad opened fire. Golden flashes of light and vapour trails filled the space between the two vessels, as well as a small amount of blue laser fire. After a thirty second barrage, the Stalingrad changed course, pulling away. The Andromedian vessel was now heavily scarred, including a single, massive rent in the ship's side.

The Stalingrad had suffered too. New scorch marks adorned it's iron grey hull, and one of it's massive ion engines was flickering on and off.

Pinpricks of light blossomed on its skin as the oxygen inside sealed bulkheads caught fire and seeped into space.

"Success!" The Ops controller declared. "Alpha Actual cleared to launch.

All available Headhunters, escort that shuttle!"

A single D-36 interloper dropship raced away from the Yorktown.

"C'mon." Knight ordered. "Let's give 'em a hand."

They pulled into formation alongside six or seven of Monarch's fighters, and three from Sovereign.

The dropship set course for the rent in the hull, then flipped one hundred and eighty degrees, angling it's deployment hatch towards the enemy vessel and allowing momentum to get it closer.

Inside, Soren knew, forty five marines and nine CSAs would be preparing equipment, praying for deliverance and mentally going over the expected layout of the Andromedian ship.

"Thirty seconds to jump point." The shuttle pilot said. "Keep us safe."

"Fighters, bearing one five nine, elevation 125." One of the pilots called. Soren's head swung to face the direction. Sure enough, a squadron of enemy fighters were silhouetted against Epsilon Delta [B].

"Must be a long range patrol coming back early." Dancer murmured.

"Sovereign, stay with the prize. Monarch, on me." Acrobat, Monarch's squadron leader ordered, and six of the streamlined Headhunters pulled away.

The five remaining ships tightened formation around the angular shuttle.

He tuned to the marines' frequency, listening as the pilot counted down.

"Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…"

"Red light on!" Someone interrupted.

"Four…three…two…one…jump."

"Green light! Go!"

Black and silver figures dived out into the void, tiny maneuvering thrusters flaring as they made small course adjustments. Once the last ones were clear, the shuttle slammed on it's engines, killing it's rearward momentum and accelerating back towards the Yorktown.

"All squadrons, package is away. PDisengage and RTB for resupply and rearm." Yorktown's Ops controller ordered.

Soren pulled back in his flight stick, arcing away from the alien vessel and back towards the Yorktown and the fleet, on an outsystem trajectory.

Benjamin 'Benjy' Serrano activated his mag boots as his feet scraped the deck of the Andromedian vessel.

They yanked him abruptly downwards, forcing him 'upright' relative to the ship.

He immediately raised his rifle, scanning his surroundings. He wasn't the first to land. Already other marines were forming up with squads, heading to bulkheads and readying for breaching.

He searched for his squad and bounced over with long, zero-gee strides, meeting them by another door.

Pope was already running Detcord around the bulkhead's rim.

The door was massive, or would be for a human who wasn't two metres plus like he was.

"Remember, what ever you do don't lose momentum. Once we breach, don't stop till we converge on the bridge, or lying dead on the floor." Evans ordered.

Pope finished up and jumped up, prepping a detonator and taking his place alongside Benjy.

"All squads ready?"

"Alpha one ready."

"Alpha two."

"Alpha three standing by."

"Alpha four ready."

"Alpha five here."

"Alpha six on standby."

"Alpha seven, eight and nine holding position."

"Breach! Breach! Breach!" Evans roared.

The Detcord went off, silently due to the lack of atmosphere, and the door was launched off its frame, hurtling out into space.

Benjy and O'Hardy raised rifles and swept round the corner.

"Clear." O'Hardy said.

"Let's move!" Evans ordered and the squad took off into the dark corridor.

Soren jumped down from his cockpit, landing on the Yorktown's flight deck with a thud. Dancer, Cayman, Harpy and Knight were all there to greet him. They looked sweaty and exhausted but each wore a look of grim satisfaction.

"Nice job out there. All of you." Dancer congratulated, with a somber glance at all of them.

He burst into the hangar. Sparks spat from the ceiling and walls, and the deck shook with the thud-thud-thud of AA batteries. Overhead, red emergency lights flickered.

He sprinted across the flight deck. Already, Acrobat and some of his pilots were climbing into aircraft and ordering weapon loads.

Soren reached his own fighter which was sat relatively close to the catapult and thankfully already equipped for air-to-air.

He jumped up into the Headhunter, signaling the ground crews to remove missile safety pins and fuel lines. In front of him, the massive bay door opened, revealing the deep blue of Epsilon Delta. And silhouetted against it? The shadows of Andromedian boarding craft.

"Go, go, go!" He urged the ground crew.

He flipped a switch and his canopy began to lower, and he quickly checked his guns and ammo.

With green lights across the board he gently throttled up and began to taxi towards the launch catapults.

Like the aircraft carriers from the 20th, 21st and 22nd century, UCTN carriers made use of catapults for getting aircraft airborne, though for different reasons. They got an aircraft up to a faster speed than the carrier, so even when the carrier was accelerating into battle the fighters would not be crushed under the bow, and they conserved valuable fuel that the hungry VTOL engines consumed so aircraft could fly longer missions.

The magnetic catapult shuttle clipped onto his fighter and the jet blast deflector raised. He throttled up, waiting for the go ahead to launch. Beside him, Cayman's F-44 slid into place and did the same.

He drummed his fingers on the flight stick, ran another instrument check and glanced up. Those boarding craft were closing fast.

He activated his comm.

"Sovereign six, requesting to launch."

"Working on it, six." A woman's voice snapped back. "We've got failures in catapult calibration."

One of the six shadows caught a burst of AA rounds and spiralled off to the side but the rest slipped through into the launch tube.

"We're sitting ducks here!" Soren shouted. "We gotta get out of the fighters!" He raised his canopy and hurriedly unclipped his harness, glancing over to see Cayman doing the same and hopped down with an impact that jarred his lower legs. The alien ships raced overhead. The first two ignored his fighter, then the third opened fire. The laser hit the craft amidships and detonated it's strike package of six air-to-air missiles. A wall of heat slammed into him and he was launched backwards across the bay, sliding to a stop by the wall. His vision was momentarily white, the imprint of his exploding fighter burned into his retinas.

His ears rang and all he could smell was burning aviation fuel.

His hearing began to clear, but the only thing to hear was the roar of flames and the screaming of the ground crew, occasionally with the rattle of gunfire.

His vision was the next to return, and he was greeted by flames and wreckage. The destruction of his F-44 had set off a chain reaction, destroying Cayman's, and five of the others lining up for the catapult behind. The Andromedian ships had destroyed hangar control, the two ceiling mounted missile pods and the weapon carts.

Clearly one of the pods had fired some rounds before it's annihilation because one of the boarding craft was crashed in the corner and burning fiercely green.

The other five had settled in the centre of the bay, and squads of massive armoured figures were disembarking, firing on NavSec personnel as they moved to contain the invasion. Soren pulled himself up.

Every part of his body screamed at him to stay down, but he ignored them.

He jogged over to the pair of ruined ships at the catapult, keeping low and skirting round the back of his star fighter, avoiding the tremendous heat coming from his burning vessel and only glancing once at where his callsign and name were stencilled below the wrecked cockpit.

He reached Cayman's ship, which was just as badly beaten.

Quickly searching the surrounding area for her and finding nothing, he glanced at the cockpit. He gasped when he spotted her, dead, slumped in her chair. Her flight suit was blackened and burned.

Hesitantly he turned and ran towards one of the emergency bulkheads on the wall. He felt a slightly sickening sense of relief that it had been Cayman and not Knight. If she'd not been trapped under the ceiling stanchion, it would have been her in that chair.

Guilt immediately followed the relief. Cayman-Laura-had been nothing but kind to him and treated him with the utmost respect.

He ducked through a bulkhead and into a corridor.

The interior of the alien ship was pitch black. The air was thick, movement felt sluggish and uncomfortable, like wading through maple syrup. Torch beams swept the darkness but their light didn't cover much before faltering. The five marines sprinted through, making their way along long, winding corridors and through wide crossroads.

Confusion began to set in when they reached the third crossroad and no Andromedian resistance had loomed out of the dark.

It was making everyone jumpy. They'd come heavily armed. Each squad had armour piercing heavy rifles, each CSA had a rocket launcher and each squad had enough detcord to blow through a hatch every ten metres for the length of the ship.

#writing #original work #sci fi & fantasy #writing for fun #constructive critism welcome

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