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AD
Black
Box Recordings of the space vessel Perseus; Flagship of the Unionist space
fleet.
Commander
Daniel Drayton:
“I wish this decision was harder to make. The
Perseus is finished. I didn’t want this vessel to die in vain. I don’t feel
connected to my actions. The horror I’m inflicting hasn’t registered with me. I
am sorry. I truly am. I am the only person who could have agreed to this.”
The
Perseus
Drayton stood at the command
bridge, breathing in the tension. He knew that this battle would change the
war; the first battle to be fought in space. Up until this point there were
mostly riots in the dense Ark-Haven cities. Drayton was going to lead this
support into Earth’s atmosphere, destroying Separatist defences along the way.
Drayton paced along the bridge
and placed his hand on the shoulder of a console operative, bent over a screen.
“What’s your name?”
The young man looked to Drayton
his back still hunched.
“Kiel sir.”
“Don’t hunch Kiel. It’ll put your
back out. You might need your back, even if your job isn’t very physical.”
“Yes sir, sorry sir” he said, his
voice almost cracking.
Drayton smiled for a second.
“Scared lad? You got cause to be
I guess. If you bugger up then it won’t be the Separatists that kill you.”
“No sir?”
“No, it’ll be me ‘cos that
equipment was bloody expensive!” Drayton’s head reared back with his booming
laugh. “Don’t worry lad, we’ll be coming up on Ark-Haven 12 if we make good
time they’ll be gunning down anything vicious. We’ve got plenty of advantages.”
“Don’t they know we’re coming?”
“No doubt. But they’re lagging
behind; Mercury hasn’t sent help and Ark-Haven 7’s defences are a joke. We’re
on the winning side lad.”
Drayton turned and was about to
head to his quarters for some rest when Kiel spoke up.
“Sir?”
“Yeeeees?” Drayton replied,
irritated, but still curious.
“Have you seen them before? The
aliens, I mean.”
“The Crogacs? No. This is the
first time I’ve left Mars in over ten years, and no Crogacs will be heading
there for a while.”
“I’ve seen them, sir.” Kiel’s
voice bubbled with enthusiasm.
Drayton was genuinely a little
shocked. He wasn’t sure if the boy was trying to impress him.
“When?”
“Five years ago, sir, doing a
tour of duty on the Moon, it was pretty much just menial security guard work.
Then I remember seeing Crogacs for the first time. They were enormous.”
“Oh yes?”
“Yes sir. Eight feet tall. But my
God, they don’t half stink.”
“HA! Haven’t heard that one
before.” A big grin crawled across Drayton’s face.
“Yeah the media doesn’t exactly
mention that. Still. It’s worth seeing them. I mean they built something that
could travel to different solar systems. That’s got to be worth learning
about.”
The grin vanished from Commander
Drayton’s face; his voice became harsh.
“So you went to learn from them?”
“Well, yes. I mean, what can’t we
learn from them? Of course, I forgot we needed to translate their language
first, spent a lot of time with linguists trying to copy their notes so I could
read about the Crogac technology. Interesting stuff.”
He stopped abruptly. The
Commander frowned and looked off to the side.
“Is that why you’re a Unionist?” he
asked.
“Well… yes sir.”
The Commander exhaled; his breath
heavy and audible to the entire bridge crew. He turned and left for his
quarters.
Drayton’s quarters were minimal.
A Mars Colonist emblem was blazoned above his bed, bronze wings holding up a
pair of pick axes on a field of red. It
didn’t have any place on a battle cruiser. It was for Martian nickel-iron
miners; Drayton didn’t have any use for it. Still better than the Mercury
Colonist emblem though, a colony pod on a field of beige, as if they should to
be reminded of the need to move around in clunky auto piloted vehicles.
Drayton lay awake. Ten years on
Mars. Ten years. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to return to Earth or at least
return on his own terms.
Ten
Years Ago. Earth, Ark-Haven 14 (Sweden), Federal Alliance Space Port.
Daniel heaved a khaki bag over
his shoulder, almost hitting the man walking alongside him.
“You sure you don’t want to take
some more things Daniel? I mean, you don’t know how long you’re staying there.
I could have your things sent from Margaret’s place.”
Daniel stared on morosely,
plodding through the carpet of snow to the Space Port entrance.
“I’m sorry Greg. I have to get
away; I can’t cling to my wife forever.”
Greg grabbed Daniel by the
shoulder, halting him, then he pushed him back so that he was staring Daniel in
the face.
“What about me Daniel? You think
I didn’t love Margaret? You think I don’t love you? What are my family supposed
to do Daniel? You’re a part of that family. We can help you through this Dan.
You don’t have to leave.”
Daniel spoke in a broken wispy
tone.
“I can’t keep clinging to her…”
“Dammit Daniel! You’re running away.” Greg
interrupted “I would run away if I could. But I can’t. I have to stay. I can’t
run from my sister’s death. You shouldn’t be running. You have to acknowledge
her death at some point.”
Daniel gritted his teeth and
looked away.
“You’ve already given me this,
Greg. I’m going to Mars. I need to get out of here. I need the money as well…
I’ll come back.”
Greg tried to meet Daniel’s gaze
but he shied away from eye contact.
“We’ll miss you Daniel.”
Daniel lifted his head and faced
the entrance again.
“I’ll miss you too. You’ve been a
good friend Greg. I’ll try and keep in touch.”
“So long Corporal. Let me know
when you get to the first transit station.”
Daniel nodded at Greg.
The
Perseus, three weeks later
Daniel’s blaring alarm woke him.
His vision blurred as he opened his eyes. His eyelids had gunk forming at the
corners that scratched against his skin as he rubbed it out with his
fingertips. Fifteen years in the military and he still couldn’t get used to
waking up. Margaret was hard to sleep next to, but it was harder not sleeping
next her after the accident.
As he rubbed the sand off of his
face he jumped at the sound of the intercom.
“Commander, we are coming up on
Earth’s Moon. I awoke you just as you asked, sir.”
“Good. Have you followed
Navigator Crain’s directions?”
“Yes sir, the fleet is obscured
from Earth’s vision by the moon.”
“And the dummy vessel?”
“Sent according to yours and
Navigator Crain’s orders sir.”
“Alright. Let’s fight a war.
Commander Drayton out.”
The Separatists knew the fleet
was coming; that couldn’t be avoided. After following Navigator Crain’s
recommendations for how they could utilise the Earth’s natural satellite to
obscure the fleet, Drayton then hoped to send a small dummy vessel with a
signal scrambler in the opposite direction they were heading. By the time the
Separatists found what’s jamming their signal and where it’s coming from, the
Unionist fleet would have them in range and in position to fire. Drayton
couldn’t help but feel smug satisfaction, the first sense of achievement he’d
had in a while.
After slipping on his stiff
uncomfortable uniform Drayton headed back to the bridge. The front viewing
panel showed the vast grey image of the moon looming into sight, its surface
was scarred and cracked like crumpled paper.
Soon the Crogac moon base came
into sight. The specks of light on the looming lunar image for some reaffirmed
their purpose. Drayton glanced at Kiel; his face glinted with joy and
conviction as the glimmers of alien civilisation danced across his screen.
Drayton looked back towards the larger front viewing panel. Kiel turned his
head towards Drayton.
“We’re coming up on the Crogac
base, sir” he said, his voice enthusiastic.
“So I see” replied Drayton
wearily. Kiel’s face drooped and he turned back to the console. Drayton picked
up the PA microphone; he drew in a heavy breath and began to speak.
“You have all chosen to fight for
different reasons. For some it’s defending the refugee Crogacs. For others it’s
the promise of new advances for humanity.”
Daniel moved the microphone away
from his mouth and muttered “For some it’s because we don’t know what else to
do.” He brought the microphone back to his mouth and finished “Remember these
reasons as I give the order to fire.”
As Daniel put down the microphone
he focused on the nearest monitor, displaying a simple green and black picture
of Earth with the twenty Ark-Havens as red dots. On it he picked out all the
ones he’d been to.
He sighed to himself, “Welcome
home Dan.”
“The scrambler is in operation,
sir.”
After thirty minutes black space
cropped over the moon.
“Prep the missiles.” Drayton said
softly, his gaze fixed on the growing emptiness.
In the blackness the tiny blazing
fires from the Separatists’ vessel propellants looked like little candles.
“Proceed at a steady pace. Dim
the lights.”
The fleet continued, the Perseus’
propellants contended with the moon’s gravity giving off a low lugubrious
rumble.
“The Separatists are within
firing range sir. Shall I fire?”
“Is the rest of the fleet within
range?”
“Yes sir”
“Fire”
Daniel tried his best to look
stoic as he watched the Separatist fleet on the viewing panel. The gentle
whooshes of the missiles from the Perseus were the only thing to be heard. The
flickering candles soon burst into clouds of light.
Another barrage of missiles from the vessels
behind them travelled across the emptiness. More fire. It only kept burning in
places where the hulls were penetrated, as the oxygen and anything that would
burn was sucked from the ships.
Drayton could only imagine the
hell it was for anyone caught on the decks that were damaged. They were either
pulled into the vacuum of space, or immolated. Some of them it might be both; ripped
from the bosom of the vessel and into the unforgiving blackness, the fires of
war searing and melting their flesh; their screams of horror heard by no one,
not even themselves.
“The enemy vessels are turning to
face us sir.”
“I want another barrage ready
before they can repel borders.”
“Yes sir.”
“Magnify the viewing panel. How
much damage have we done?”
The vision of death and war
intensified. The image growing larger until the bridge could see the scale of
their damage.
“There is some heavy damage sir.
Looks like a few missiles breached the hulls. But all their vessels look to
still be mobile sir.”
“Not for long” Drayton walked
over to the viewing panel. “Take out their weapons” Drayton pointed to the main
turrets of a heavy frigate that was slowly coming around. “And have our light
destroyers concentrate fire on this battle cruiser’s engines. I want that thing
immobilised.”
The light destroyers surged ahead
of the fleet, their sleek designs allowing for more manoeuvrability. Their
canon fire ricocheted off the protective hull of the Separatist flagship. They
continued up and down the huge external engines, their blasts barely scratching
the blue paintwork.
“I said concentrate fire.”
Drayton shouted at one of the operatives, “Keep canon fire to one location;
breech that hull dammit” a quivering operative relayed Drayton’s commands through
his headset.
The Perseus hummed again as
another stream of missiles arced across the closing empty space. The canons of
the Separatist heavy frigate managed to take a couple out but it couldn’t
withstand the full barrage and its main turrets were blasted off in silence.
The Separatists mobilised two
light destroyers, the speedy machines dodged the elegantly gliding missiles and
the canon fire peppering the battle zone. Their canon fire sent a gentle rumble
across Perseus.
“Sir, we have two light
destroyers opening fire on our missile silos.”
“Stow away the silos, open canon
fire on the nearest. Bring the Sky Hammer around to destroy the other.”
The Sky Hammer, almost as agile
as its opponents, flew around the Perseus. As it arrived it launched its small
missile load. One of the light destroyers disappeared in a flash of flame, its
crumbling black wreckage scattered across the Perseus’ hull. The other was not
so easily caught. It outmanoeuvred the canon fire from both the Perseus and the
Sky-Hammer. The Sky-Hammer unleashed another missile.
“What the-” Drayton yelled but it
was too late.
The missile from the Sky-Hammer
crashed into the Perseus. The huge ship rocked.
“Damage report, what the hell
happened?” Drayton cried out.
“The Sky-Hammer missed. They’ve
taken out our starboard missile silo, sir” reported the nearest operative, his
face red in the light of his screen. “The destroyer is pulling away sir. It’s
attacking the Sky-Hammer.”
“Well, it’s their problem”
Drayton snapped. “Bring us around, utilise the portside silos. Have the
frigates cover us. What news from our destroyers?”
“Minimal resistance from the
enemy flagship sir” reported Kiel.
“They’re holding back” Drayton
grimaced “Send a message to Ark-Haven 12 and 14. Tell them I want to know when
they can send us support.”
The young man typed busily at the
console, as the Commander stormed up and down the bridge barking orders, trying
to make the most of their element of surprise. “Bring the Drake around to cover
our starboard.”
An operative at the back of the
bridge turned to face the Commander.
“Commander?”
“Fire one round from the portside
silos. Bring us into Earth’s atmosphere.
“Umm, Commander…”
“Have us ready to drop our ground
troops. Make sure Ark-Haven 12 is ready to fire.”
“Commander!”
“What is it now?” Drayton said
wearily.
“The enemy flagship is launching
what seem to be… colony pods, sir.” He replied.
The pods moved slower than the
destroyers. They were only marginally less clunky than the frigates.
“Shall I open fire sir?”
“Only with canon fire, save the
missiles for the flagship” Drayton said, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
“What the hell are they doing?” he pondered aloud.
The pods swerved around the
Perseus to the starboard side. The canon fire harmlessly bounced off of the
dense lead hulls. The scattered canon fire wasn’t enough of a challenge to the
pods that survived the harsh climates of Mercury.
“They’re not changing course sir.
They’re coming straight for us!”
No missiles. Canons were useless.
As the Perseus broke into Earth’s atmosphere the Mercury colony pods smashed
into the hull of the Perseus, each one digging deeper and deeper into the fine
craft. As they collided something
ignited within them, spreading scorching hot thermite across the battered hull.
Super-hot oxygen from piercing the atmosphere helped the orange tinged white
hot chemical reaction. The hull now scarred and useless allowed for blazing hot
air to pour into the ship.
“The impact took out the engine!”
reported Kiel.
Drayton’s uncomfortable shirt
soaked up a river of sweat.
“Are we going to crash?” he
asked.
“At the current rate and
trajectory, we’ll be crashing in northern part of Judea.” Kiel said,
desperately trying not to slur his speech.
“Navigator Crain, in our current
state, how far can we change our trajectory?”
Crain peaked her narrow head out
from the green glow of the navigation screen. Keeping her thin face focused on
the screen below him. She replied without emoting.
“We can change our trajectory by
about fifty miles sir.”
“Any chance of landing safely in
the sea?” Kiel asked desperately.
“No. We’re heading for land.” Crain
said.
Kiel turned away and buried his
face in one hand and started chewing strands of skin off the other.
Drayton paused. He’d been looking
over Crain’s shoulder at the navigation screen. It was mostly a complex series
of lines and coordinates in front of a detailed map. He could still make out
where they were and what their likely crash site was. His brow furrowed.
“How close is Ark-Haven 7 to our
crash site?”
“Twenty, sir” replied Crain, a
hint of worry in her cold voice.
There was a long palpable pause.
Some of the bridge exchanged knowing glances. Daniel spoke up.
“Change our course. Head for
Ark-Haven 7.”
Kiel turned around, pulling his
fingers from his slavering mouth. His eyes stained red.
“Sir?”
“The Perseus isn’t going to burn
out. If we can hit Ark-Haven 7’s industrial district then we at least damage
Separatist supply lines.”
“But what about the people in the city?” Kiel
said, his voice becoming more resolute through the tears.
Drayton said nothing; he gritted
his teeth and glared at navigator Crain.
Crain nodded at him and fed the
coordinates into her computer. The propellants hummed as they steered the
vessel towards its crash site. Crain avoided Kiel’s desperate stare.
“We’ll be landing in
approximately five minutes.” Crain said.
Daniel walked away; his fists
clenched so hard, his knuckles turned white.
In his room he reached for a
recorder, his final words transmitted from the tiny device in his fingers to
the vessel’s black box. In his drawers he kept a crumpled printed picture of
his time in Ark-Haven 12. He’d taken pictures of Margaret by the huge cable
cars.
“Why do I need a print? I’ll have
it on my computer” he’d asked her.
Her sweet voice resonated
plaintively in his head.
“Your computer crashes all the
time Daniel, don’t you want something tangible?”
The atmosphere tore at the ship’s
hull. The huge battle cruiser echoed with the booming noise of destruction.
Daniel’s fingers wrapped tightly around
the picture of Margaret. Hot tears streamed down his face. He closed his eyes;
behind his lids he saw only flashes and blurs of red. He envisioned all the
cities he’d been to. They all lacked her.
From his knees he looked up at
the insignia of Mars colonists.
“I’m sorry Margaret. I wish I was
better. I wish I wasn’t capable of this.”
The Perseus’ hull was covered in
white hot flames, its sleek design penetrating the atmosphere like a sword
through flesh. Below, Ark-Haven 7’s citizens tried desperately to evacuate. Unlike
the battle, all the screams were heard.
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