Yen opened his eyes and watched the blue velvet roll over his body. He floated freely in a sea of mist, unable to discern direction or distance. Though he stood on firm footing, Yen couldn’t find the ground when he reached for it. He was his own island, adrift and alone. Pushing his way forward, Yen tried to find his ship. He remembered the missile chasing him and the explosion rocking his body to its core. If he had landed within the planet, then the wreckage of his ship would have to be nearby. But search as he might, he was unable to find even the smallest piece of debris.
Reaching toward his microphone, he realized that his helmet was gone, along with his only hope of contacting the Revolution. Yen panicked, fearing being forgotten and being left alone. He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled for anyone who could hear. Calling out for help, though, Yen’s words disappeared, their noise drowned out by a sudden low rumble in the distance. The rumbling, like distant and continuous thunder, did not stop, instead growing louder the more he yelled. He covered his ears as the sound grew unbearably loud.
Yen spun where he stood, straining to see through the thick mist. All around him, the folds of the velvety mist belied movement and shapes. He saw faces peering at him in his peripheral vision, only to have them vanish as he turned towards them. Yen could feel the sweat beading on his brow and rolling between the spines on his back, soaking through the flight suit he still wore. His breathing grew shallow and quick as panic crept unwanted into his mind.
With his hands still over his ears, blocking out the now roaring thunder, Yen ran. The ground on which he ran but could not see remained perfectly flat and infinite. The mist clung to him like hands pulling him ever backward, slowing his flight. He screamed, but the sound was lost once more to the thunder. Crying, Yen stumbled and fell to his knees, his legs still finding purchase on the invisible terrain. As the sobs wracked his body, the thunder stopped, leaving his ears ringing and casting the mist into haunting silence.
Yen lowered his hands, unfolding from the fetal position in which he found himself. In the distance, just on the edge of his vision, the silhouette of a shapely woman stood, beckoning him to follow. Her voice, though wordless, carried like a siren’s song, luring him forward. Yen stood and stumbled after her, increasing to a run as she remained just on the edge of his sight. Though he couldn’t tell her features through the blue mist, he knew who had come to rescue him.
“Keryn,” he whispered into the dark. Running harder, he yelled after the retreating silhouette. “Keryn!”
Lightning flashed, igniting the mist in blinding brilliance. Yen fell backwards, collapsing onto the ground and covering his eyes from the intensity of the light. As his vision cleared, he peered forward in awe as the mist coalesced into a beautiful face. The mist formed the red and purple tattoos running the length of her face and flowed like locks of hair from her head. The kind visage stared down at Yen’s prone form.
“Keryn,” he said, his heart pounding in his chest.
Suddenly, the faces features darkened. The eyes narrowed angrily and the lips curled into a startling sneer. It opened its mouth, the words echoing through the fog.
“Yen…,” it said angrily, the voice sounding nothing like the woman Yen loved.
“You’re not real,” he said in disbelief, scrambling to escape the widening mouth as the gaping maw advanced toward him.
“Yen…” it said louder, shaking the ground on which he sat.
“Get away from me,” he cried into the darkening mist. “Stay away!”
“Yen!” a different voice sounded, from within his ear. “Answer me!”
Yen sat upright in his cockpit, his heart racing, sweat soaked completely through his flight suit. Around the ship, blue mist swirled, distant flashes of lightning accentuating the colors. On the display screen of his craft, red lights flashed chaotically as warnings for failing systems.
“Commander, tell me you’re there,” Iana begged over the radio.
Groaning, Yen activated the microphone. “I’m alive,” he croaked through a tight throat.
The cheers from the other end of the radio startled him. “We weren’t sure if you were still alive after you plummeted into the planet’s atmosphere,” Gregario interjected. “Sensors say your engine and computer systems are still offline.”
“Roger that,” Yen replied, assessing the damage to his ship. “I think I can reboot the system to get everything back online. It seems like the rocket just shorted everything out without doing any permanent damage. Give me five minutes, then I’ll let you know if these heap of crap will fly.”
“That’s affirmative, sir,” Iana said. “Glad to hear you’re alive. Team Six is standing by, waiting for you.”
Yen turned off the speaker but couldn’t shake the memory of Keryn’s face angrily staring down at him and screaming her rage. Flipping a series of switches, he heard the engine whine as it tried to restart.
“Come on, you piece of crap,” Yen said angrily as he flipped the switches again. Again, the engines sputtered, but didn’t start.
“Start!” Yen yelled, his power rolling over the ship and igniting the fuel in the engines. With the engine running, the computer systems reactivated, giving him data about the ship’s systems. According to the radar, he had sunk nearly halfway through the gas giant’s atmosphere before waking. The thick clouds had slowed his descent and halted his wild spin, effectively saving his life.
He pulled back on the stick, feeling the engines respond with heavy acceleration. Unsure of how long he’d been unconscious, Yen was eager to find out how much of the battle he had missed and how much damage could be done to make up for his absence. As he neared the edge of the atmosphere, the clouds clung to his ship like blue vines draped lazily over the wings. Accelerating harder, Yen broke free of the planet, trailing blue tendrils from the atmosphere.
Though Yen was glad to see the stars glowing in the distance of space, he was surprised at the chaos around him as he exited the gas giant. Alliance and Terran fighters danced around one another in a choreographed ballet of rockets and tracer fire from their machine guns. Thousands of the small ships filled the once empty space, punctuated by small bursts of red flame and purple and blue plasma as explosions erupted haphazardly throughout. The larger Cruisers and Destroyers of the two Fleets were hardly immune to the chaos. They tore through the insect-like fighters like angry behemoths, alternating between firing massive volleys of plasma rockets and launching salvo after salvo of metal slugs from their rail guns. Space had become a hell storm of destruction, and Yen had flown straight into the inferno.
As he strove to gain his bearings, warning sirens erupted in the tight cabin of his Duun ship, warning him of approaching enemy fighters. Yen banked hard to the right, barely avoiding the first stream of tracer fire that threatened to tear through his hull. Spinning into a barrel roll, Yen rotated his fighter barely out of the way as the first of the Terran ships flew by, missing his wing by only a few feet. As the first ship began banking for a second pass, another Terran fighter dove in from Yen’s right. With the side of his ship exposed to the oncoming enemy fire, Yen accelerated hard, driving himself back into his cushioned seat. He didn’t have much hope of outrunning the Terran or his deadly volley, but Yen hoped to get the more fragile glass of his cabin window out of the stream of enemy machine gun fire. As he flew away from the gas giant, however, the second Terran ship exploded, followed immediately by the first ripping apart as tracer fire tore through its right wing.
Yen craned his neck to see his saviors as his microphone crackled to life.
“Are you okay, sir?” Iana called over the radio, her voice muted by the wild cheering as Gregario activated his own microphone.
“I’m not only alive,” Yen said, “I’m damn glad to see you all. Did I ever mention that you guys have great timing?”
“Sir,” a new voice, that of Warrant Wallace, called dejectedly over the radio. “You didn’t really think that Team Six would leave you out here on your own, did you?”
“Give us some credit,” Warrant Byron added as the other members of Team Six fell into formation behind Yen.
Yen watched the four friendly ships appear on his radar, joining him in a spear formation with him at its tip. As they flew into the fray, Yen took a second to assess the battle. Already, five Alliance Cruisers drifted aimlessly through the void of space. Their hulls breached and flames flickering weakly from within as the fire consumed the last of the breathable oxygen. The large ships hung lifeless, becoming little more than obstructions around which the other ships maneuvered. The Terrans didn’t fare much better. As Yen watched, a seventh Destroyer erupted into flames as one of the plasma rockets slipped through the onslaught of protective fire and found its mark.
“This is insane,” Yen commented over the radio. “We need to regroup with some of the other fighter Teams and start a more organized offensive action.”
“Roger that, sir,” Gregario replied. “The problem is that the Teams from the Revolution are scattered. In the short time you were in the gas giant, the clear lines of battle got a little blurred. It was a free for all that is just now being sorted out.”
“Then let’s get to the Revolution and use that as our launching point,” Yen countered. “Start sending a Squadron-wide call informing all ships to regroup around…”
Before Yen could finish, the Fleet-wide communications channel opened on his console and began relaying an emergency message.
“This is Captain Hodge of the Revolution,” the message began. “We are swarmed with enemy fighters and have lost the majority of our defensive capabilities. I am requesting immediate support from anyone receiving this message. I say again, I am requesting immediate support for the Revolution.”
“It looks like our mind is made up for us, sir,” Wallace said as the message began playing again.
“Team Six, move out and rendezvous with the Revolution,” Yen ordered. “Let’s go save our ship.”
Dodging a barrage of oncoming fire, Yen’s team worked in concert with one another, driving forward as a deadly team one moment only to split and chase down enemy fighters individually the next. The team fought with deadly efficiency, clearing away the immediate Terran fighters and opening a path between them and the embattled Revolution.
As they approached, Yen saw Terran fighters crawling across the hull of the Alliance flagship like swarming ants. Their weapons fire ignited small fires along the length of the ship, drawing the attention of the defensive weapons while the boarding parties cut holes in the thick protective steel of the Revolution. Closing the distance, Yen’s radio crackled to life once again on the Fleet-wide channel.
“The Revolution is being boarded as we speak,” Captain Hodge said. “We are requesting immediate support.”
Yen activated his own radio in response. “Revolution, this is Team Six. We are closing in on your location and will be assisting shortly.”
As Yen ended his transmission, numerous others began calling in, lending their support to the swarmed flagship. Most of the Teams from the Revolution were arriving and engaging the Terran fighters.
“Team Six,” Yen said, changing his channel to the internal net. “Our focus is on the boarding parties. Destroy those and let the other Teams take care of the fighters.”
They all called back, letting Yen know that they had received the orders. Yen, however, didn’t wait for their reply, instead putting the Duun Riddell into a dive that brought it rapidly toward the flagship. Barely slowing, Yen eased up on the controls until his fighter was skimming the hull of the ship. This close, he was able to examine the damage already done to the ship he called home. Numerous blast marks scorched the hull, exposing the chambers and hallways underneath. Breaches in the hull were automatically sealed off from the rest of the ship to ensure the entire Cruiser wasn’t lost during a depressurization, but it left dozens of Crewmen trapped in a slow, suffocating death.
Ahead, Yen could see the first of several Terran personnel ships attached to the Revolution. From the bottom of the ships, long, flexible tubes extended until they were firmly affixed around the breaching holes cut by the boarding parties. Yen angled his fighter toward the first of these tubes and opened fire. The machine gun roared to life, spitting tracer rounds through the flimsy fabric. The ship above jerked as its anchor broke free. Byron, flying up behind Yen, destroyed the personnel ship with a well-placed plasma rocket. The bigger effect, however, happened to the members of the boarding party itself. Though they were protected in suits from the sudden lack of oxygen, they could do nothing against the sudden depressurization. Jerked backwards as breathable air vented into space, the boarding party shot out of the breaching hole and drifted helplessly into the void. Yen barely noticed as he turned and engaged the next ship, but he felt his adrenaline surge at the sight of such wanton destruction. He yearned for more. Firing his rocket at the next personnel carrier, he watched as it exploded, destroying the ship and tearing loose the fabric tube. He watched as the venting gases mixed with the clinging, burning plasma. The fire cooked the boarding party alive as they were jettisoned out of the Revolution.
“We got enemy fighters closing in from behind us,” Iana warned as new red ships’ blips appeared on Yen’s radar. He tried to turn to look over his shoulder, but the Terrans were grazing the hull of the flagship, making it impossible to see them amidst all the chaos.
“Pull up and loop around to engage,” Yen ordered, bringing up the nose of his fighter in a tight circle that would turn him to face the incoming Terrans.
“They’re firing!” Wallace yelled into the radio.
“I’m hit!” Byron screamed. “Oh Gods, I’m…”
The transmission went dead as Byron’s ship was consumed by enemy machine gun fire. The vessel broke apart, crashing and exploding into the hull of the Revolution.
Yen finished his turn and charged toward the oncoming Terran fighters. As he wove through the hail of gunfire, Yen returned fire on the closest ship. His rounds tore through the armored cabin of the fighter and slammed into the pilot. As the Terran slumped over the controls, the ship spun out of control until it, too, crashed into the hull beneath. Yen’s powers responded to the excitement with rabid enthusiasm. His psyche reached out and grabbed onto the front of an approaching Terran fighter. Jerking it to the side, Yen slammed the ship into its wingman. Both ships exploded in bright orange flame. With the rest of Team Six joining him, they finished off the Terran fighters, removing most of the remaining threat to the Revolution.
With his adrenaline now waning, Yen felt a moment of reprieve and switched his communications array to the Fleet channel. The sudden eruption of sound surprised him as a multitude of distress calls rang out over the radio. Fidgeting with the controls, Yen was able to identify a number of the requests.
“…under heavy fire. Requesting assistance…”
“…engaged with a Terran Destroyer. Taking heavy damage…”
One call, however, caught his attention more than the others.
“This is the Zenith. We are being engaged by the Terran flagship.” The voice paused as explosions and screams were heard in the background. “We are taking severe damage. I’ve sent most of my crew to the escape ships already, but the Zenith is a loss. I say again, we have lost the Zenith!”
Yen turned in the direction of the hailing ship, making out the bulky shape of the Cruiser amidst the smaller fighter engagements in between. The Zenith was limping through space, its hull battered and engines firing weakly. As it tried to flee, a second ship flew forward until the two ships flew side by side. The Terran ship dwarfed the Alliance Cruiser; its bulbous body resembled a swollen balloon, bristling with heavy weapons. Its gleaming white hull, painted with the blue and gold lines of the Terran Empire, glistened even in the dim light of space.
The Terran flagship slowed until it had matched speed with the Zenith. The side exposed to the Terrans had been decimated by plasma rockets, leaving the metallic hull sweltering and molten. Weapons platforms that had once been housed on that side of the Cruiser had been destroyed, leaving the Zenith incapable of firing on the deadly enemy. As Yen watched, hundreds of smoke trails leapt from the Terran ship as they fired volley after volley from their twenty launchers on that side of their vessel. The rockets struck the disabled Cruiser in overlapping, blossoming flowers of plasma. The blue and purple plasma engulfed the entire port side of the Zenith, leaving Yen very little view of the explosions. From where Team Six watched, however, they could see the hull of the Zenith buckling from the assault, the starboard side of the Cruiser collapsing inward as the ship quickly imploded from the rapid depressurization. Though the Fleet channel was open, Yen didn’t even hear a scream of protest as the Zenith was obliterated.
“Did you see that?” Gregario asked, the awe evident in his voice.
“Yes, I did,” Yen replied, activating his radio, “and now I want to go blow it up.”
“Commander?” Iana asked, stupefied.
“I want to blow it up,” Yen repeated more sternly. Already, his psychic power responded to his desire for more violence and destruction. “They just launched over half their entire arsenal just to make a showy display of firepower. That means that they honestly believe we’ll all throw down our weapons and surrender at just an impressive show of force. All it did for me, however, was piss me off. And now I want to go blow it up.”
Switching channel, Yen called across the ships internal communication network. “I need the position of the closest Revolution weapons platform.”
A voice quickly answered his call. “This is Warrant Kilkurt of Platform Three, currently located behind the ruins of the Terran Destroyer twenty degrees off the port of the Revolution.”
Yen turned toward the floating wreckage of the Terran Destroyer. He wasn’t surprised to find one of the platforms hiding amongst the floating debris. The weapons platforms were capable of firing massive amounts of rockets per volley, but very few volleys. An exposed platform would only be able to defend itself for a very short time before running out of rockets and being destroyed.
“Kilkurt, I need you to maneuver toward the Revolution. Team Six will move to you and prepare to pick up your first volley.”
“Sir,” Kilkurt replied hesitantly, “I’ll move into position, but my radar is showing only four members of your team remaining. You can’t maintain positive control over the full dozen rocket volley.”
“If there’s one thing everyone will very quickly learn, Kilkurt,” Yen said as he and his team began flying into the space between the Alliance flagship and the ruined Destroyer, “it’s that I should never be underestimated.”
The large weapons platform disengaged from the wreckage and drifted into position, its large rocket tubes pointed at the Terran flagship. Yen led his team directly in front of the platform, their ships weaving in front of the launch path of the missiles. Yen threw the switch and activated the communications channel for his Team.
“When the rockets launch, each of you pick up two missiles. Leave the other six for me.”
Yen changed his channel back to speak to Kilkurt. “Platform Three, fire on my mark. Three… two… one… mark.”
Missiles roared out the tubes, billowing smoke in their wake. The automated computers in the fighters automatically started tracking their launch, synching their systems with the rockets’ onboard computers. Within seconds, the fighters had made contact and assumed control of the flight paths of two rockets each. Yen, however, reached out into space, letting the wavering tendrils wrap around the other approaching six rockets, pulling them toward him. As they approached, the six missiles took up position around his ship, floating and rotating like orbital rings around his fighter. The missiles dipped and wove, narrowly avoiding one another, all under Yen’s command. With all the rockets under the control of Team Six, the fighters began accelerating toward the massive Terran flagship.
The path between Team Six and the Terran flagship was relatively clear. The battle had progressed, leaving hundreds of fighters destroyed. The rest were loosely clustered in intense dogfights, leaving numerous clear paths of space, occupied only by the debris of those that had already been destroyed. Only a couple of rogue Terran fighters engaged them as they approached the flagship. Team Six quickly destroyed each in turn before continuing toward their target. As the Team approached, the Terran flagship grew larger, its white hull gleaming dangerously as its weapon systems turned toward the approaching threat.
“The ship’s getting ready to launch,” Gregario called over the radio.
“Prepare for evasive maneuvers,” Yen replied.
The four ships split from one another, taking different approaches toward the swollen ship, splitting the targeting of the weapon systems four different ways. As they continued diving toward the ship, warning sirens sounded in all their cabins. On the radar, dozens of silent projectiles soared toward them. The black metal slugs of the rail guns were nearly invisible to the naked eye as they raced forward, blanketing the area in a deadly protective screen.
“Slugs in the air!” Iana yelled as her ship spun as she avoided the first few projectiles.
“Stay out of their way, but make sure your rockets stay safe,” Yen ordered, his focus now entirely on bringing their destructive force down on the Terran flagship. On his radar, Yen could see the other three ships flying as he was: seemingly haphazardly as they avoided the dozens of metal slugs that continued to launch from the flagship. Suddenly, Wallace’s fighter stopped maneuvering and began a lazy spin in space.
“Wallace,” Yen called, “what’s your status.”
“The last one clipped my wing,” he called, the fear evident in his voice. “I’m dead in the water. I need someone to dock with me and pull me out of here.”
Yen’s vision narrowed as he stared at the Terran flagship, images of the white vessel exploding under their barrage flashed through his thoughts. Being so close to destroying so great an opponent, Yen refused to fail. “Are your rockets still secured?” Yen asked.
“What?” Wallace asked. “They’re targeting me. I need someone to get me out of here now.”
Yen wanted to scream to his Team until they understood his vision. He yearned for such grand scale destruction. He refused to stop until his desire was satiated. Anger crept into Yen’s voice as he repeated the question. “Are your rockets still secured?”
“Yes, for God’s sake, yes!” Wallace cried into the radio. “They’ve got a lock on me. Get over here.”
“Commander, I’m moving now to…” Iana began before Yen cut her off.
“No, Iana. You stay where you are. Wallace, listen to me,” Yen said, his voice quivering with anticipation, his bloodlust driving him forward. “I need you to fire your rockets at the flagship. Afterward, we can talk about getting you out of there. Complete your mission first.”
“You crazy son of a…” Wallace didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, the two rockets under his control launched from his ship and barreled toward the flagship at high speeds.
“It’s done, Yen,” Iana called over the radio, pleading with him. “I’m moving now to get Wallace out of there.”
“I can’t allow that,” Yen said, his voice taking a dangerous edge. “You have a mission too, Iana. Everyone completes their mission.”
“You can’t leave me here!” Wallace yelled, horrified. “You have to…”
Yen flipped the switch that cut Wallace out of the channel all together. Though Wallace yelled into the radio, no one on the Team was able to hear him.
“Have you lost your mind?” Gregario asked. “We don’t leave our teammates to die.”
“We also don’t disobey orders,” Yen snapped back. “Our mission is to destroy the flagship and we will succeed. This conversation is over! Everyone prepare to launch your missiles.” Flipping a second switch, Yen turned off the radio completely, cutting off any potential cries of protest.
As he prepared his own rockets for launch, Yen watched Wallace’s two rockets dive toward the flagship. In response, the ship launched a salvo of metal slugs, which filled the space between the missiles and the vessel. The onboard computers took control of the rockets’ trajectories and they maneuvered to avoid the hail of defensive fire. As they moved, one of the slugs struck the first of the rockets, which exploded harmlessly above the flagship. From within the blossoming plasma, the second rocket broke through the defensive fire and dropped onto the hull of the Terran vessel. The resulting explosion rippled along the surface of the hull, fusing rail gun ports and tearing a hole into the weapons bay beneath. Though the rocket did damage, it was barely noticeable against the shear mass of the flagship.
With Yen’s focus entirely on the rocket attack, he didn’t notice as one of the metal slugs soared up into space, locked onto a drifted and helpless fighter. With Wallace severed from the Team’s channel, no one heard him scream as the metal slug drew invariably closer. They didn’t hear as it crashed into the cabin of his fighter, tearing through the alloy and glass, smashing into his body, and barely slowing as it ripped a hole in the bottom of his ship. Carrying only kinetic energy, the metal slug didn’t cause an explosion. Instead, Wallace’s ship, and the small amount of physical remains of his body, simply drifted deeper into space, sent off on a new course by the collision.
The three remaining members of Team Six had concerns of their own, beyond the worries of another lost pilot. With a number of their rail guns destroyed, the Terran flagship began firing more and more slugs toward the three fighters and their deadly collection of rockets. With their flying reserved now for defense and reactionary maneuvering only, they had no time at all to calculate the trajectories of their missile payload.
Yen threw the switch, reentering the Team’s channel. “I know it’s not easy right now, but we need to get a fix on the flagship’s weapons and engines. Those are the areas where we stand to do the most damage with our rockets.”
“I’d love to help you, but we’re a little busy right now,” Gregario replied angrily. “Or are you not worried whether or not we die too?”
“That’s enough, Gregario,” Iana called, emotions welling in her voice. “Yen, be reasonable. We can’t get through their rail gun fire. It’s suicide to continue. We’ll all wind up dead like Wallace if we try to push forward.”
“Wallace is dead?” Yen asked, checking his radar for the signal that was no longer there.
“Where have you been?” Gregario yelled, rage swelling into an ear-splitting volume.
Yen wanted to reply, but couldn’t find the words. His lust for destruction had overwhelmed his senses as a Commander to the point that he hadn’t even noticed when one of his pilots, one of his friends, was killed. Jerking out of his self-remorse, Yen pulled hard on the controls as he avoided yet another metal slug.
“You’re right,” Yen conceded. “We need to…”
“Commander!” Iana cried out.
Yen checked the radar. His jaw dropped as he saw a Terran Destroyer maneuvering from behind the flagship. Team Six didn’t stand a chance against two large Terran vessels.
“We need to get out of here now!” Iana yelled.
“We are so screwed,” Gregario added.