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Frescom is very proud to present the new novel from the pen of antipodean wordsmith Chris Masters. Its a corking novel set sometime in the future. Chronicles of the Third Millennium is a page turner with the twists and turns you would expect from the master story teller himself.

You are welcome to read the whole thing here or download, print and read this blockbuster at your leisure. Copyright remains with Chris Masters if you have any queries please feel free to contact sueyourass@frescom.com

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Chronicles of the Third Millennium.

Quest for the Moon.

The dreams started when I was still very young, no more than nine years old. At first they occurred rarely and were difficult to decipher, or to discern from any other kind of dream. Soon they progressed to a kind of vision, a dream that could take hold at any time whether in sleep or awake. Sometimes these were visual, other times like a narration. At first I thought them nothing more than my own imaginings, but over time they grew to a complexity and gained an imperative that seemed to come from beyond anything I could make up myself. By revisiting earlier dreams, always remembered in great detail, I am regularly provided with new insights that increase my understanding of their meaning.
Now that I am getting older I have found these visions too much to store merely in my memory, and so the time has come to write them down. Remember while you read the following that you are seeing through the limited lens of my own writing skills, and I am certain to have made mistakes in translation. I state now that I do not believe these visions to be a prediction of the future or a prophecy of any kind. I speculate that at most they are a view into some form of alternate reality, admittedly one that is very similar in many ways to our own, but in a distinct universe. I do not think I will ever know the truth of it, until perhaps when the dreams stop and this writing is finished. Until then it is for you to decide.

Time line. (Note: for some reason the early period of the next century has yet to be presented clearly to me. However I have been able to discern the important events which lead up to the beginning of the narrative).

1998; Water is discovered on the moon.

2006; The European community commits itself to building a manned lunar base by 2016.

2018; Moon base alpha comes into operation.

2020; First commercial passengers arrive on the moon.

2022; A tourist discovers an 'alien artefact' in a lunar cave. This device represents an advanced technology and functions as a map; pointing out the location of other devices elsewhere on the moon and on the Earth. The objects contain formulas and theories which are rapidly translated into human language and turned into amazing technological advances. Clues to the identity of the builders of these artefacts, simply known as the Precursors, are few. In the euphoria of what seems to be the dawn of a golden age this is not deemed important. Revolutions in health care, education, transport, and of course the military follow. In particular, advances in molecular biology, virology, and genetic manipulation enable the eradication of disease. This roller coaster ride of technical advances is not limited only to machines but mankind itself. With no regulation possible, the populations of various third world countries are used as guinea pigs for scientists racing to out do each other. Cloning, genetic programming; eventually someone hits upon the idea of using viruses as carriers of these genetic improvements. Anti-flu, anti-cold viruses pave the way for anti-cancer and colour blindness cures.

2029; Various groups struggle to control these developments, either for their own profit or nobler reasons. For a time a new cold war rages, with various countries and groups attempting to keep ahead of each other. But the sheer speed of the developments make waging a conventional war unthinkable. In any event the next stage takes place before any side could take control. Religious groups speak out against what they saw as an ungodly attack on the human form, predicting a great calamity if the experiments are not moderated more rationally. Whether the cataclysm that follows truly is of divine origin is now seen as a moot point, obscured from clear analysis by the ensuing chaos of the time. In short, an anti-ageing virus was developed and then released into the general population. At first the effects of this seemed beneficial, but rather than stopping at the target age in the early twenties, subjects continued regressing back into puberty and beyond, only stopping in the pre-teens. All attempts to counter the virus meet with failure. The regression is not merely physical; the subject's memories are also erased back to those of their apparent age, leaving little more cultural and social memory untouched. This makes a cure virtually impossible as even the scientists who produced the disease become infected.

2033; All efforts to save some portion of humanity end in failure; the Affliction, or Plague as it is now known, reaches even as far as the lunar colonies. The disastrous result of the Plague leaves the earth populated by non-ageing, sterile children, with few memories of adulthood.

2034-2051; Billions die in the rampant chaos of the next several decades. Although the surviving humans do not age physically during this period, they are able to grow mentally and eventually some level of maturity is gained. Remnants of the old power structures try to reassert themselves, with religious and ethical groups garnering more success than political ones. Eventually a new governing organisation, based in the former United Nations headquarters on the moon, is able to build itself a power base from its acquisition of Precursor artefacts. Through its powerful military forces, this new UN is able to bring an end to the war and chaos occurring on Earth. This is not universally appreciated. However, with the participation of national governments in a similar manner to the old UN (though more representative), and with devolution of both military and political power, a peace of sorts is achieved.

2051-2060; With the UNM acting as police, old feuds continue to be fought under this new banner of peace, the most notable is that between the sexes. Although aware that such antagonism had risen to unheard of levels after the Plague, the mostly male dominated UN fail to appreciate the depth of these feelings back on Earth. During the early years the two sexes had banded together for protection and comradeship. Now this is taken to another level in order to secure voting rights on the UN council, and command of UNM ships. One sex or the other dominates entire countries and as the balance of power shifts, the minority often simply moves to another country that shares its views or chromosomes. Eventually the council settles into a pattern that everyone can tolerate, without any group or faction able to gain a majority controlling presence.

2066; A Precursor artefact in the form of an organic computer calling itself 'Cybernetica' is discovered by girls in the ruins of Old Moscow, Russia. This artefact is sentient and has a vast knowledge of Precursor technology. With this understanding Russia once again becomes the dominant power in the region.

2068; Cybernetica becomes president of Russia. With a pronounced bias towards girls, its leadership drives most of the remaining boys out of the country.

2071; UN delegates announce the formation of the United Girl Federation, chaired by Cybernetica. Though not all girl nations join in this federation, the combined power of the UGF makes it a dominant player in the UN council. Cybernetica's first act is to deport all boys from Russia; other members of the UGF soon follow her example.

2072; The UGF declares its independence from UN authority, taking with it its UNM vessels. Other than trade embargoes, the remaining members of the UN take no military action against the UGF. The UN removes all girls from its remaining military vessels.

2072-2079; a state of cold war exists between these two main factions with several unaligned nations pulling out of the UN to go it alone.

2079; Now...

Prologue

Council Chambers, Moon base Beta
Moon Luna, Sol System
1200 hours GMT 2079-April-25

Chancellor Everston stepped down from the speaker's chair wearily, another long council session over. He rubbed gently into both his temples as he watched the last counsellor leave the chamber, then raked his hair back several times with his fingers. At least this time we actually made some progress, he mused.
His lips stretched into a wry grin as he acknowledged that weeks had passed since the last time he could say that. The latest business with the UGF was still dominating the council's time. Now the Girls wanted the right to escort designated asteroid belt mining vessels with their military ships. Their ships! Why the previous Chancellor had done so little about the emergence of the UGF still escaped him. Independence is one thing, but the stealing of those ships called for far harsher methods than trade embargoes and sanctions. Back then open conflict could only have gone one way; defeat for the UGF. Now, with their ships out God knows where and being modified and enhanced on an almost daily basis, they were a significant threat.
He shook his head at his bodyguard as he left the Council Chamber. This was both a signal that meant he was not to be disturbed, and a way a admonishing himself against that train of thought he was travelling yet again. Yes, the UNM could have defeated the UGF at its formation, and could probably do so now; but only at the cost everything that prevented mankind from sliding back into the dark ages once again.
His office was only a short walk from the Council Chamber. As he entered he looked up, and sighed. The steelglass ceiling offered a magnificent view of Earth, the moon's orbit making it a constant reminder of what he was working for. His eyes lost their focus for a moment, and he caught a glimpse of his reflection. A powerfully built and charismatic man, Everston had hoped for so much when he accepted the office of Chancellor of the United Nations. Even at the age of one hundred and five, he had been full of idealism. Five years in this office had changed him; his still youthful face held an aura of weariness and, sometimes, defeat. Not today though. Today he had finally wrested an agreement from the organic computer intelligence that ran the UGF, Cybernetica.
The thought set him off pacing irritably. Cybernetica, the Precursor artefact that holds an unholy influence over millions of girls on Earth. Through its power in the UN Council, Everston was sure it represented a threat to all humanity. Yet today the machine had finally agreed to have tracking systems attached to all its warships, in exchange for freedom of movement within the solar system. Even now the first of its ships were docking with Beta Base for the first time since their independence. Nearly all the UNM ships were also docked to have similar systems installed.
He allowed his pacing to bring him around to the side of the desk, where he sat and activated a holo-screen; set to display his most urgent reports. There were many, as usual. One caught his eye, a report from the UN Special Forces. He coughed out a short laugh at this. They hardly belonged to the UN, though they did keep him well informed. Their true loyalty was to their mysterious Leader who in turn had sworn an almost feudal allegiance to the UN Council. Recruited into small units from subjects who displayed special characteristics, these boys, for they had always been boys even before the UGF, were said to possess special powers.
Everston knew these stories were embellishments based on actual facts and the amazing array of hi-tech equipment available to them. Still, some of the missions they had accomplished were truly impressive, and their reports were always entertaining.

Suddenly the ground shook beneath his feet. He dropped to the floor, ready to dive under his desk for cover, thinking for one second that it was an earthquake. He knew that was useless, if the steel glass roof did give way, the desk would provide no protection against the vacuum outside. Looking up again to the crystal clear ceiling his heart nearly stopped, for what he saw there defied anything he could think of or imagine. Outside, he saw the Earth and the surrounding space shimmer, then simply disappear!

1. 'The Approach'

UGF Satellite, Greer 34
Earth Orbit, Sol System
2355 hours GMT 2079-April-22

The spy satellite, one part of a vast web in geostationary orbit above the Earth, stared down impassively. Every minute it collected and processed terabytes of data regarding its designated monitoring area. With its scanning array consisting of visual, thermal, and laser radar it saw everything. One small part of this area was an internment camp in what was once called Northern Afghanistan. This forced labour camp, in the style of old Russian gulags, the satellite knew well. If a machine can be said to know anything.
Every morning at 0600 plus or minus five minutes, groups of prisoners are lead out for the day's work. They return at 1900 plus or minus five minutes, sometimes with fewer prisoners alive. Rarely, an armoured transport leaves the camp and travels Northwest into the Black Hills for approximately ninety-four minutes before leaving visual scanning range. Thermal emissions are inconclusive, but ground-penetrating radar suggests the presence of a hidden facility of some kind. Passive detection of stealth equipped aircraft in the area support this conclusion. Orders from the Hub are to give priority to this region, now designated area Delta, and to report immediately when the next activity is detected.
2079-APR-23; no activity in area Delta
2079-APR-24; no activity in area Delta
2079-APR-25-0345 local; armoured transport detected moving towards area Delta
2079-APR-25-0345 local; malfunction! Encryption system disabled. Directive AO098 disallows transmission of unencrypted data. Restoring encryption system; this will take thirty-two minutes.

Chris had seen mountains that did not reach the heights of these misnamed Brown Hills. Great lopsided heaps of boulders lay half buried in baked earth leaving only narrow, twisting passes and greatly reducing the speed of the armoured transport. A bright half moon partially lit the sky through high wispy clouds, populating the landscape with bizarre shadows. He leaned back into his chair to look at his fellow passengers. Nothing could be done about their speed. Well, not without attracting attention.
Maher was driving, with his face turned away and his blast helmet on it was impossible to tell if he was wearing a stereo plug in his ear. Chris was willing to bet he did though. Boyd was hunched over a comms board, studying its output and preparing his scripts. A slightly furrowed brow showed he was concentrating hard, but Chris knew he had everything under control. Bobby, second in command and without much to do at the moment, was checking for the fifth time that his stunblaster was properly installed into the dummy carbine casing. Kain manned the AT's single turret. His anti-laser reflection armour a bright silver and making him look even taller than normal. Redundant as the armour was compared with their personal shields, it and the blast helmets completed their disguise. Though much thinner, Kain stood several centimeters taller than Chris who was the next tallest of the group by a fair margin. Most of them were taller than average however, except for Maher and Boyd.
Tall for a bunch of kids. Even after all these years he could not forget the physical transformation of the human race that had made them what they were. Scientists across the solar system struggle to find a cure for the Affliction, the capital audible whenever it is discussed, but so far without any success.
Dark skinned Doug completed the group. His seat was opposite Chris, he looked again at his watch and gave his Commander a small smile. It was nearly time.
Chris smiled back, looking over the group again. Although clearly victims of the Affliction, what was not obvious were the other powers it had given them. When these abilities first began to manifest themselves the boys had been secretly recruited into the UN Special Forces. Here they had been trained in all aspects of espionage and counter espionage, as well as more exotic subjects.
The group had served together for many years now and in his opinion they were the best. They were C-Force.

"Okay boys, visors down and activate your voice replicators. Remember to check your targets in there, we're all going to look pretty much the same."
Boyd looked up from his display with a start. "I thought this place was computer controlled; just us and the prisoners, no guards."
Turning in his chair to face the rest of the group, Maher grimaced as he pulled down his visor. "That's the way it's supposed to be alright. If not it's going to get real ugly." He gave his stunblaster on his hip a reassuring pat.
Chris gave him a level stare. "Just keep it on stun Maher. The plan is to leave everything just as we find it." Then his attempt at a stern expression slid into a lopsided grin. "Except for the prisoners that is."
"Just who are these guys anyway? And why are they working for the other side? Prisoners or not." Doug had switched on his voice replicator, changing his usually deep voice to the higher pitch of the girl on his ID tags.
Bobby spoke up. "There's no telling what kind of compulsion they are under Doug. Afghanistan may not be officially part of the UGF, but they're close enough that you can bet Cybernetica is involved. These guys have the brains to make a real difference to the side they work for. And that's going to be our side."
"We're three minutes out from the gate, I'm sending the signal." Boyd announced. Tapping out a command on his small data panel, he activates a relayed signal to the base's computer system, authorising a prisoner transfer. "That's twenty minutes before the local HQCPU figures out what is happening."
By now the armoured transport had travelled far enough for the boy's to see the stretch of mountain within which the base was concealed. Their designated approach was well hidden within a copse of trees. Most of these were natural, but others were actually sensors and security mechanisms; including a battery of particle accelerator beams.
At that moment a freight shuttle lifted off further up the mountain, quickly accelerating away to the east, and clearly visible though the AT's gunports.
Chris inhaled sharply. "What's that shuttle doing there? The next supply run isn't due for four hours."
"Maybe there's some new quartermaster at HQ and she has changed things around." Maher offered.
"Unlikely, but it can't be helped now." Chris gave his a small head a shake, as if he disagreed with his own assessment. He did not like this at all.
Maher nodded as he pulled the AT to stop in the centre of the copse. Barely visible ahead of them was a camouflaged access hatch.
Since the base computer was expecting the vehicle, the particle accelerators hidden within the trees, although charged, did not fire on them immediately. A scanning array checked the transport and its passengers to ensure they were who and what was expected. If the scanning check failed the PA turrets would disintegrate the transport.
"I hate this bit." Kain grumbled softly. Chris did not think he meant it to be heard.

In a moment the scanning stopped and Maher brought the AT up to the first bunker. Maher remained in the transport while the other five stepped out. Doug and Kain moved to positions on the flanks while Chris, Bobby and Boyd approached the entrance hatch.
Chris plugged his ID tag into the lock and tried to trust his voice replicator to ensure his voice matched the tag. "Captain Lyra; code omega delta kappa. Prisoner transfer."
A fraction of a second later a speaker in the door replied in the cool tones of a synthetic voice.
"Voice check confirmed, you may enter Captain Lyra."
The access hatch spiralled open and the three boys entered the bunker. Inside they saw a large hemispherical room. About three-quarters of the floor was actually a lift platform. A guard tower occupied the remainder of the room, empty, as they expected. Climbing a short ladder, the boys entered the tower and activated the control systems.
"I'm logged in okay. The bunker is ours." Boyd started "Let's see, the prisoners are all in the lab on sub level 17."
"Check out what that shuttle was doing here." Chris ordered.
"Sure thing." He jutted his chin forward and lowered his brows. "It's restricted. That's bullshit, it was just a supply shuttle. I'll check the level access logs." He hunched his shoulders slightly while his fingers were a blur over the data board.
Suddenly he looked up at Chris and Bobby. "Sub level 14 was last accessed four minutes ago. It's a storage depot. Which makes sense, but no way should that info be restricted."
Chris drew his stunblaster. "I think we'd better have a look. Bobby, let's go."
The two boys climbed back down the ladder and onto the lift platform. With a nod Chris signalled for Boyd to lower them down. They started counting down the numbers painted onto the side of the lift shaft. In a few moments the platform stopped on sub level 14.

2. 'The Other Mission'

Drawing his own stunblaster, Bobby cycled open the door, revealing a very large storage room. The room was a maze of cargo containers, fuel cells, and storage cases piled almost to the high ceiling. Several conveyer belts were in operation, moving various supplies to different areas and other sub levels automatically.
Affecting to look casual, the boys entered the room.
"Something is not right here," said Bobby.
Responding to his second's telepathic signal, Chris answered in kind.
"I feel it too. We're being watched. Stay here."
Chris made a show of checking a readout on one of the nearby containers, casually putting it between him and any onlookers. Soon he had slipped out of sight and into the maze.
Bobby looked on, pretending to be a bored guard. He hoped he would sense it if he needed to take cover quickly.

High up near one of the loading belts, six figures looked on, four aiming their weapons at Bobby. The figures were dressed in the same combat armour and helmets as C-Force.
One spoke up. A female voice. "Give me the word and the target goes down."
A second figure, short and standing back from the other five replied, "Hold your fire, wait for the other one to come back."
Seconds passed as the group waited for Chris to reappear.
Then the first figure spoke again, "What's going on? Let's take them out!"

"Freeze! Put down your weapons!"
From behind the group Chris had appeared at the top of a conveyer belt platform, standing with his feet astride the belt, supported firmly by the outer rim of the structure's support frame. Both his stunblasters pointed at the figures below him.
The second figure turned to stare up at Chris for a few seconds, then, raising his visor, revealed a freckled and definitely male face.
"Identify yourself please." Chris was glad his voice gave no hint of his surprise.
"I'm Commander Millar of the UN Special Forces group X. Ingo, the rest of you, lower your guns."
Millar stared back at Chris and shook his head slightly. "Surely you sensed our presence, as we sensed yours."
Chris hid another surge of surprise, in no small way thanks to his reflective blast visor. What are the chances of this? He thought to himself. Although nominally on the same side, each unit of the Special Forces nearly always operated independently. Face to face meetings were very rare. Nearly all co-ordination was done via the Leader and his staff. Chris had to admit he had never really worked out why that was the case, or why all Special Forces boys went by a single name for that matter. It was all part of the way the Leader ran things. But that wasn't important right now, the important thing was that two Special Forces groups had apparently run into each other during a mission.
He relaxed his grip on his stunblasters a fraction as he thought. I certainly remember something about a Commander Millar, but how to confirm his story?
He pointed down at the one called Ingo. "You. Turn around."
With a look towards Millar who merely nodded the boy turned to face the other way. Chris thought he noticed the other boy's grip tighten on his weapon.
Holstering one of his stunblasters, Chris held up a hand, showing three fingers. "Tell Ingo over there how many fingers I'm holding up. Without speaking."
Millar nodded but did nothing else as far as Chris could tell.
Ingo shrugged. "Three fingers." He turned back quickly and raising his weapon a fraction. "Now if you want to keep them how about you identify yourself to us?"
Although Special Forces members can communicate using telepathy within their groups they cannot do this between groups without a long adjustment period. Chris holstered his other pistol knowing that only a Special Forces member would know about telepathy, and that Millar had taken his hint to use it.
Chris raised his own visor. "Commander Chris, C-Force. What are you guys doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question." Millar replied calmly, pointedly taking no offensive action, and so confirming Chris's decision to reveal himself.
"We're here to rescue some important scientists."
"We're going to sabotage some prototype fighters. We'll be getting out on the next supply shuttle."
Chris smiled grimly. "Not now you won't. In less than fifteen minutes the local HQCPU will be onto us, and this whole place will lock up tighter than… Something very tight."
Millar smiled back. "Nice plan. I guess we'll have to go along with it."
Chris nodded. "With luck we'll be able to get you out in our transport. We've got a hideout a few miles away; from there we can make our way back to friendly territory once its safe."
He checked his watch, trying to calculate how much time they would need. It was going to be tight.
"Let's move."
The seven of them made their way down to the exit to the lift platform. Millar quickly introduced the rest of X-Force. Along with himself and Ingo, the group consisted of Jack, who was second in command, Mono, Bilby, and Mare. All of them were fairly tall and powerfully built. The boys radiated a professional confidence, plus a certain malevolence. That fits what I've heard of X-Force, Chris thought to himself.
Soon the boys had the lift platform on sublevel 17 at the entrance to the laboratory. Chris moved to open the security door and then stopped. He turned his head to confirm his suspicion and found X-Force fanned out in a group behind him, weapons levelled at the door.
"Remember," he said, pointing back to the door. "Civilian scientists are in there. No shooting," he paused, "please."
Several seconds passed before Millar nodded and the other boys relaxed almost imperceptibly.
"I guess that is as relaxed as they get." He TP'd to Bobby.
After the way the mission had gone so far he had to admit that he was having trouble staying relaxed himself.
The door cycled open to reveal a guardroom with an observation window overlooking the laboratory. A security door filled most of the rest of that wall. Chris could see the three scientists working busily away at computer terminals. They showed no reaction to their presence, confirming his intelligence that the window was made of one way mirror glass. With a quick look at his watch he keyed the opening sequence into a panel and the door slid back into the wall.
Three startled faces turned towards him. The closest scientist stood abruptly. "What are you doing here?"
Chris recognised him as Doctor Nathaniel Wong. He raised his visor and deactivated his voice replicator. He knew that the audio pickups in this section of the base were tuned to expect male voices. "UN Special Forces. We've come to get you out of here."
"Rescue! After all these years," a second scientist said, rising quickly to his feet. Chris recognised this one as Dr John O'Brien.
The third scientist, Dr Marc Bakker, also got to his feet. "Well lets get going then!"
Dr Wong held up a hand to forestall him. "Wait a minute. If you can give us some time we can down load a lot of our work into data pads and take it with us. We only have write access to today's work but we have read access to it all."
John turned to Chris with a start. "Yes. You must understand we've worked for years on this stuff. Please give us a chance to put it to good use."
Chris had originally planned for just that to happen, but with everything else that was going on time was very short.
He turned back to X-Force and faced Commander Millar. "How long will it take you guys to deal with your fighters?"
"Six minutes, forty seconds." The boy replied crisply.
Chris nodded then turned to his second. "Go with X-Force. Help them if you can and keep me informed."
"Yes Sir."
And with that the boys were gone.
Chris turned back to the scientists. "Say about thirty seconds for them to get down there. You've got about seven minutes."
At this the three boys practically jumped back into their chairs and started to download as much data as they could.
After a minute Chris began feeling a bit like a third repulsor generator just standing around watching their efforts.
"Anything I can do?"
Dr Wong snorted. "No. I don't think you would have much luck with this. It's pretty complicated."
"Okay then." Chris noted the comment but let it pass. Then he scanned the area to determine if any alarms had been triggered. As he expected, there were none. He lent back against the bulkhead and looked again at his watch.
"How is it going down there Bobby?"
Soon he heard the voice of his second in command in his head.
"We've just got down here. Everything looks okay so far. Hang on."
There was a few seconds pause.
"No trouble sir. It's just that these ships have been prepped and are ready to fly. X-Force weren't expecting that."
"Commander!" Maher's voice interrupted.
"What is it Maher?"
"We've got company sir. Another AT is just coming into range. It'll be here in just over a minute."
"Shit!" Chris slammed one fist against the bulkhead.
"Are you alright there?" Dr Bakker asked.
"It's nothing, just go on with your downloading."
I'm just going to love writing up this mission, he thought to himself.
"What do you think the chances are of it being another Force Unit?" He added hopefully.
"Not good." Boyd chimed in.
"I'd say it's the pilots for these fighters down here." Bobby answered.
Chris considered this. If they were pilots for the prototype fighters, they would not settle for any of the contingency plans he had made to stall any guard patrols from the gulag. He would have to come up with something on the fly, and fast. "Maher, I'm coming up. Kain, Doug; Captain Lyra is coming up to meet whoever is in the transport. Hold them until Boyd and I get there."
"I've just got to pop out for a minute." He said to the scientists. "You three keep going. I'll be back."
With that he sprinted back out to the lift shaft. The platform seemed to take an eternity to come back up to his level from the fighter bay and then another to get back to the surface.
Boyd was ready at the exit door.

C-Force Armoured Transport
Secret Girl Base, Afghanistan
0410 hours local 2079-April-25

Maher watched with growing alarm as the new AT passed through the checkpoint and approached his position. The vehicle continued toward their bunker and stopped some twenty meters away. From its position on the top of the AT a laser turret pointed back at him. A shaft of moonlight surrounding the firing aperture only enhanced the impression. He hoped that that was just where it happened to be pointing but started readying his turret for a rapid warm up if he needed it.
The port side troop doors opened and a score of girls exited the transport. The girls were wearing flight suits, camouflaged green, and flight helmets open at the face. Maher mentally acknowledged Bobby's guess; they were pilots. All carried side arms, but Maher was relieved to see that they made no indications that they ready going to use them. The disguises C-Force employed, intended more to fool computers than actual people, were working.
One of the girls stalked forward to the bunker entrance, still guarded by Kain and Doug. Maher could not make out her rank insignia, but the way she moved practically screamed officer, possibly nobility. Hands clamped behind her, she came to a halt before the apparent guards. The two boys saluted in the fashion of their enemy. Then their hands returned quickly to the carbine sheaths that hid their stunblasters.
The girl did not bother to return the salute. "What are you doing here?"
"Prisoner transfer to the gulag, s… Lady." Doug's voice replicator functioned perfectly, but for an instant Maher was sure he was going to say 'Sir' and give the game away.
"Lady Walker." Apparently the girl mistook Doug's response. "I wasn't notified, who cleared it?"
"Captain Lyra did, Lady Walker." He made a show of tapping his helmet to indicate he was communicating with his officer.
"She is on her way out to meet you now."
A hiss of atmosphere transfer indicated that the bunker door was about to open.
"Here we go!" Maher TP'd to C-Force.
"Hold on. Maher, stand by on the gun turret. We'll try to capture them. If it doesn't work then use stun guns only." Chris responded.
"He always thinks I'm going to go overboard." Maher grumbled to himself.
The door cycled open and Chris stepped out, followed closely by Boyd. Doug and Kain moved several steps to either side, ostensibly to give their captain room but in reality to give themselves a wider field of fire.
Chris did his best impression of an arrogant girl walk. Maher thought that given the anatomical differences it was not too bad an effort. Chris stepped right up to the girl officer, stamped to a halt, and gave her a precise salute.
Confronting what she believed to be an equal, at least in terms of military rank, the Lady responded with a crisp salute of her own. However, before she could finish Chris drew the stunblaster from his left hip and pointed it at her chest.
The girl's eyes widened and her mouth soundlessly formed the word 'What' before Chris continued. "This is a classified operation. I'm afraid I have no choice but to take you and your squad into custody for its duration."
The girl quickly regained control of herself. She lowered her arm back to her side, her face now composed. Seconds passed as she stood regarding the silver clad figure in front of her with its blast visor down. Maher grinned nervously at the almost comical sound of night insects and nothing else coming through the outside mike. It's a Mexican stand off, and we don't have any Mexicans
Lady Walker did not seem to move a muscle.
"They're boys. Kill them!" she yelled.
The scene in front of Maher erupted into pure chaos. The girl pilots started dropping to the ground, fast. Their leader was the first; stunned by Chris's first shot. He drew his other pistol and began firing both of them into the mass of girls. Some threw themselves down and drew their own pistols; others were knocked down from the combined stunblaster fire of Boyd, Doug and Kain.
Then came the counter fire from the remaining girls. The first beams missed their mark, but soon they corrected and hit the boys in front of them. Or at least they would have hit, if it was not for the personal shields the boys were wearing. Incredibly expensive and top secret technology, the shields would render them invulnerable to such weapons for a time.
The darkness provided no cover from the infrared tracking on the boys weapons. While the girls had but silvery targets to aim for in the silvery light.
This combined with the fact that the girls could not know their companions were not dead but only stunned had a devastating effect on their morale. Almost before the fight had started they were throwing their weapons away and putting their hands in the air.
Only seconds had passed, and the battle was all but finished when Maher gagged in surprise at his console. The girls' transport was powering up. "The transport still has a driver!"
"Try and disable it, but destroy it if you have to. We've got no choice." Chris ordered.
Maher gave himself a mental pat on the back for the precautions he had taken earlier. Thanks to them he would be able to bring his laser turret on-line before the other transport. His hands flew over the console and since his weapons were already in line with those on his target, he fired at them first. Immediately he saw his mistake, the other transport had its shields down, but they were charging up at that same moment. His blast disintegrated the turret but the resulting chain reaction of energies, trapped within the vehicle's raised shields, ripped the transport apart.
It was a freak occurrence but his head dropped at the failure to disable the other AT cleanly. While C-Force had control of the bunker the rest of the base's security systems would have missed something on the scale of their brief small arms fire fight. There was no way those systems would miss this explosion though. The whole base would be locked down and their transport would be captured or destroyed as soon as it left the radius of this bunker's security zone. What felt just as bad was the knowledge that he had killed the driver. He would have sworn the transport was empty.

C-Force Commander
Secret Girl Base, Afghanistan
0415 hours local, 2079-April-25

"Get those girls inside the bunker now!" Chris shouted.
The other boys scrambled to obey, ordering the still standing pilots to carry their fallen comrades and herding them into the bunker.
He could not believe how this mission was turning out. With the base locked down the transport was useless to them. He searched his long memory for some instance that would give him an idea what to do. He had never screwed up a mission like this before. The AT explosion was so big it was probably spotted by the damn satellite! Well at least it won't be telling anyone about it for a while.
They had only one choice now. He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply as he committed himself to the only action that might get them out of this. He had caused a few international incidents in his time, but nothing like what he was now contemplating.
"Bobby, have you relayed what happened to X-Force?"
"Yes, and they're not too happy about it." Bobby replied.
"Well tell them to stop sabotaging those fighters. Get them ready to fly. They're our only way out of here now."
There was a few seconds pause.
"Commander Millar says that the fighters can't be launched without pilot bio-scans. Additionally, with the lockdown in place we can't use the launch bays either."
Chris waved the last of his prisoners through the hatch. "We have the pilots. I'm sending them down now. I'm going to make us another launch bay. Our only chance is to fly out of here and fight our way through the air cover."
"Another launch bay!"
He sensed Bobby's surprise, and if it had been less strong he suspected he would have felt that of the rest of C-Force as well.
But, as usual, his second in command recovered quickly. "Okay but even if we make it, we won't be able to land anywhere on Earth. No one would take us."
Chris had to acknowledge that. "We'll have to go the moon and let the UN handle the political fall out. Maher, I want you to bring the transport into the bunker and wedge it in place with the doors. Then set it to blow with every gram of C8 we brought."
Chris watched as Maher silently drove the transport into the bunker's access way. In moments he had finished placing then setting the explosives. Eyes downcast under his raised blast visor, he stepped out of the transport and walked towards the others.
He's blaming himself for killing the driver, Chris thought. None of the boys liked taking a life, not in times where every death was another step towards a sterile humanity's eventual extinction.
Chris reached out to stop the other boy. "You had to do it," he said gently, "there was no other way. All our lives were at stake."
Maher looked up at his commander and gave a small nod. He understood, but that did not mean he had to like it.
One of the girl pilots, a captain, spat on the ground and stared defiantly at the boys. "What do you care for the life of the driver? Half our number are dead."
Boyd answered. "They're not dead. Our weapons only stunned them; they will be fine."
The girl responded with a dubious look. Boyd lifted his stunblaster meaningfully in her direction then reset the weapon. Then he lined up and fired at one of the prone girls. Immediately she began to stir.
Looking back to the captain, he was rewarded with an expression of awed disbelief.
"We would have killed you." The captain said quietly. Then she lifted her eyes back to Boyd.
"The was no driver in our transport." She pointed at one of the other girls, a corporal. "That's our driver."
The corporal's eyes flashed in defiance, then shifted slowly to something that could have been compassion. Raising her voice she looked towards Maher. "I activated our transport by remote. I knew you'd have to destroy it, thereby alerting the whole base and by now HQCPU."
Maher's face returned to life and lit up with a quick grin. "Nice trick," he snorted, "but we're not finished yet. Are we commander?"
Chris smiled back and activated the lift platform, sending it down once again. "We've still got a few tricks of our own to try."
The group travelled silently down the lift shaft, finally stopping at sublevel 17.
"Boyd, do you know how to disarm the security systems on the fighters using the girls' bio-signatures?"
All of C-Force had their visors raised now, to reduce the chances of any misunderstandings between themselves and X-Force. The boy looked taken aback.
"Of course sir."
"Good. Take the rest of the group down and get it done as quick as you can. I'll be down with the scientists shortly."
Chris stepped through the guardroom and into the laboratory. The chaotic scene before him was a reminder of the brief battle he had just fought. Only he was not sure who was winning this one. The three scientists were running from machine to machine, downloading every piece of information they could cram into their data pads. Soon Chris's own PDA was filled before he could finally get them to begin moving, and even then he nearly had to resort to main force.
He had wanted to delete everything they had write access to but Dr Bakker insisted on loading a virus of his own design into the system that he said would corrupt the data files and render at least some of their work useless to the girls. Exasperated, Chris eventually got the scientists to leave their prison and moving down to the other boys in the fighter bay.
Here at least everything was to his satisfaction. The girls were secured in the pilot ready room, stunned and with the memories of the last few minutes erased. The boys were sitting in their new prototype fighters. These now hovered a meter above the floor moving slightly from side to side as the boys tested the controls.
Having shed their reflective blast helmets for the more conventional pilot's helmets the girls had brought with them, Chris could see only half of their faces; enough to see that to a man they were lit up with excitement. As he took in the sleek lines of the their rides, he decided he could not blame them. It would have been a crime to destroy these fighters, and he could not wait to claim one for his own.
"Bakker go with Bobby there. O'Brien with Boyd. Wong, you're with me. And make sure to stay out of the way once the action starts."
Choosing a fighter emblazoned with the number eight, Chris climbed into the front seat and quickly exchanged his blast helmet for a pilot's one that had been left there for him. Seconds later Dr Wong had settled into the navigator's seat behind him.
He looked around at the complex array of instruments, and marvelled at what they promised about the abilities of this fighter. If the girls could mass-produce these we'd be in big trouble, he thought to himself. No wonder the UGF satellite was taking such an interest in this place. Though it does pose some questions about the real ties between this country and the UGF.
He put that thought aside and hit the ignition panel, then cycled up the repulsors. His ship lifted several feet from the ground as the repulsor power grew to surpass the force of gravity. He pushed the stick forward and glided towards the lift shaft.
He then keyed open the short range ship to ship comms. "Everyone set?"
Receiving a chorus of positive replies, Chris activated the detonator in the AT above. Even twenty levels under the ground the explosive report was like a thunderclap. Through the open door they saw tonnes of debris flash past to the bottom of the lift shaft.
Soon the torrent cleared and Chris manoeuvred his fighter into the battered tunnel, pivoted, and looked up. A clear night sky sparkled ahead of him through a gigantic hole in the wrecked bunker ceiling. His smile oozed satisfaction.
"Lets go!"

3. 'The Get Away'

The fighters launched out of the ruined bunker and accelerated away from the base. The boys spread out in formation, with the unmanned ships at the rear on autopilot. One of the ships had failed to respond to remote control, leaving them with nineteen. That meant they had one less decoy for the most critical part of Chris's plan. He knew that they were all extremely vulnerable until they could get into orbit. Their fighters' defensive shields being less effective in an atmosphere, leaving only hull armour to protect them from a hit. In the chill darkness of night their ships would stand out like beacons against the cooler atmosphere for the enemy's fire control. He just had to hope that they would be very fast beacons and that the unmanned ships would be able to draw most of the enemy fire away from the others.
Then the base's laser batteries opened up with a scattered volley of fire. However, the defence systems on the base were designed to handle an external attack, not an internal security breach of this magnitude. Certainly not one that was accelerating away at over mach three. Most of the laser turrets were not able to adjust before the fighters had evaded their firing arcs. One of the unmanned fighters was hit and badly damaged, but continued following the others.
Now other defensive systems activated. Surface to air missiles shot out from all over the base and raced to intercept the fleeing ships. Monitoring this on his defence scanner, Chris manoeuvred the damaged fighter so that it was between his ships and the oncoming SAMs.
Seeing what Chris was doing, Millar activated the fighter's electronic counter measures system. Rather than attempting to keep the SAMs from obtaining a lock on the fighter, he used the ECM to give out precisely the information the missiles needed for a lock. The majority of the missiles then slammed into the unmanned fighter, destroying it utterly.
Several other missiles bypassed the destruction and continued on. However, the boys dropped enough ECM chaff to prevent them from hitting their targets. Seconds passed before the boys detected a new group of signals representing more SAMs headed in their direction, provoking a lot of radio traffic from them.
Chris recognised Ingo's cool, emotionless voice. "More SAMs, but where are the intercept fighters?"
Kain responded, "Who cares where they are? We're just lucky they're not here. As it is we'll probably have to lose another fighter to beat these SAMs."
"By then we'll be in orbit, and if they have fighters waiting for us we'll be dead meat." The tall X-Force agent, Mono added to the debate.
A detached part of Chris's mind began to examine and evaluate X-Force's reaction to the crisis. He was pleased when Commander Millar interrupted the others. "Cut the chatter X-Force. We'll take care of these missiles and worry about any enemy fighters when we come to them."
Millar activated the ECM system on another unmanned fighter as Chris moved it into position. He grinned as they completed the manoeuvre. We are already working as a team, he thought to himself. The task was easier this time as the SAMs were running out of fuel by the time they reached their altitude. Singly and then in groups they hit the fighter and destroyed it.
Moments later the ships cleared the atmosphere and entered a low Earth orbit. Chris felt much safer behind fully functioning shields, and there were no enemy fighters waiting for them. They drove deeper into the vacuum and began scanning for any sign of orbital pursuit.
"That's odd," said Boyd, "I can't pick up anything. They must be jamming us."
Chris blinked in surprise as his own attempts confirmed Boyd's report literally. Short, medium, and long range scan was completely interdicted. But why? Such a wide area of jamming was pure overkill for this situation. He switched through various scanning systems and tried to pierce the jamming, to no effect. He could see the deceptively peaceful looking blue globe of the Earth, but had no way to tell what was happening down there. Maybe we've upset them more than I thought.
He flicked a helmet switch to transmit. "Seems a bit unnecessary. They only have to chase us down. No need to ruin the TV coverage for hundreds of millions of people at the same time. Still, it can't be helped now. Set a course for..." he paused uncertainly, "where is the moon?"
He heard a higher pitched voice that probably belonged to Bilby. "It's not there!"
Millar countered, "Come on Bilby, sure they can jam us from seeing Beta Base, but they can't jam our eyes from seeing the moon."
Bilby was adamant. "I'm telling you it's just not there. The moon is gone! Look out ahead of us. That's where the moon should be. That's where astrogation says it is. And the jamming couldn't extend half that far."
Millar sounded unsure, "That's crazy. If the moon were somehow destroyed the impact on the Earth would be immediate and catastrophic. We can see from here that everything is fine down there."
In the sudden silence, Jack, the dark skinned second in command of X-Force, could be heard to quote quietly. "It'd take the entire star fleet. With more firepower than..."

X-Force & C-Force fighters
Earth Orbit, Sol System
1210 hours GMT 2079-April-25

Chris concentrated on focusing the scan board instrumentation. It was far in advance of any other such system he had previously encountered in a fighter. The maximum effective range was over four times that of a standard FLI fighter. With that kind of range one of these ships could easily double for a flight command ship.
Focusing long range scan, he soon had the area surrounding the last known position of the moon in front of him. The scan report showed no sign of what happened to the satellite, but did reveal what appeared to be a full scale battle. Without accurate friend or foe data, it was impossible to tell exactly whose vessels were present. However it was clear that several large capital ships were engaged with a vast number of smaller ships.
He began processing the emission data to try and identify the protagonists. The larger ships gave off emissions typical of UN heavy carriers. These indicated powerful engines, launch bays and relatively light offensive weaponry. The smaller ships were harder to identify, but seemed to consist of several distinct types. These were almost certainly fighters. An overwhelming majority of the fighters were of the same type. It seemed likely that the battle was between four UNHCVs and this other fighter group.
He did not need any more details to know that the UN vessels were in big trouble.
Maher spoke up, "This is all a little bit hard to handle, first the moon disappears, and now we find a bunch of unescorted UN carriers under attack by a shit load of unidentified fighters that must have come out of nowhere."
Chris nodded in agreement. "You've got a point there Maher," he paused and considered it again, "I don't think seventeen more fighters, five of them on auto pilot, can make much difference in that battle. Still, it seems like it's the only place we've got to go to. If Beta Base has been destroyed, those carriers might be all that is left of the UN fleet."
Boyd broke in then, "Commander, I'm picking up another vessel, away from the main battle. Its emissions indicate that it's another UNHCV."
Chris sensed the scan co-ordinates Boyd was looking at and was soon studying the quadrant containing the lone carrier. His dark eyebrows rose in surprise at what he saw. The carrier's heading was taking it towards the battle, but it was moving far slower than it needed to if it was going to get there in time to make any kind of difference to the outcome. On top of this the carrier had practically no fighter cover out.
He pondered this for a few moments. The only explanation was that the ship was damaged in some way. Scan gave no clue as to what this damage might be.
Chris tried contacting the UN vessel, "UN carrier, this is UN Special Forces group C approaching you in liberated girl fighters. Please identify yourself and give me a situation report."
Long seconds of silence followed with no reply from the carrier. Then another group of signals brought a warning from the scans' friend-or-foe identification system. Several flights of enemy fighters had broken off from the main group, and were now heading towards the damaged CV. If the ship did not get enough of its own fighters out soon it would be in big trouble.
Here was a situation in which their seventeen stolen fighters could make a difference. He was about to issue orders when he remembered that eight of these ships were not actually under his command.
He sent out a signal to the X-Force Commander, "Millar, I think we can make the best use of our resources by defending that lone carrier from these robot controlled fighters. What do you say?"
"You're right. Let's hit them!" Millar answered without delay.
Jack reacted quickly to his commander's order and said, "Mono, let's show these C-Force boys how it's done."
Banking his ship up and to the right, Jack fired off an after burner blast, leaving an orange streak of glowing engine emissions in his wake.
At the same time Mono turned his ship up and to the left, also with a heavy blast of after burners. The resulting glow of engine emissions left an orange X in his wake. In unison the remaining X-Force ships pulled out of formation and accelerated through the bright signature, closing in on the enemy craft.
Concentrating on scan again, Chris could see that X-Force were heading for the closest flight of approaching ships. The next closest group was several hundred kilometres below the first from his frame of reference, but not much further out from the carrier. He decided to commit C-Force against these fighters.
The C-Force commander ordered the ships on autopilot to wait here, then sent the required navigational information to the other C-Force ships. Then he looked out in the direction X-Force had gone. Observing the fading X pattern he said, "Do you think we can do better than that boys?"
"Yes sir!" Doug answered.
He sent his ship into after burners dive, drifting out to his right, then back to the left. This manoeuvre left and arc of orange fire behind him, but he knew that the X-Force ships in front of him would look back and see a C.
Chris smiled in appreciation at the manoeuvre, and led his other fighters in a repeat of it. His smile then faded as he turned his mind to the fight almost at hand. Seconds passed as he sifted through scan emissions information to get a better idea what they were up against. Again he marvelled at the sophistication of the analysis equipment. He compared what he saw with his own PDA list of recognised ships. Soon he was able to identify the carrier as the UNHCV Comet. It should be carrying a full complement of three hundred FLI fighter modules, and a crew of around three thousand.
Then he turned his attention to the unidentified fighters. Though they were still too far away for him to assess their size and shape his scanner showed him that they had unusually powerful ID generators, and non-standard ion drive engines. Most unusually, there was no indication of life support systems on the fighters.
"No people on board, that's good," he said in a low voice, "I've never seen an AI pilot that was any good in combat."
He passed this information on to the others. Aside from this the enemy fighters seemed to be carrying fairly standard looking external laser generators, shields, and possibly a small complement of missiles. He considered that the fact he could discover so much from this range indicated the lack of a decent ECM system on board the fighters, and trusted that the superior one on his own ships would prevent the enemy from gaining as much useful information about them.

Back on Commander Millar's ship, the same discoveries were being made. Soon the enemy ships were within enhanced visual range. He could see that they were eight meters long and about three meters at their greatest width. The body of the ship consisted of a short, roughly cylindrical section, which tapered off at the rear. Eight 'arms' protruded from the cylinder, six went forward and contained laser emitters. The other two were larger and extended back past the end of the cylinder. They looked like missile racks to Millar.
Keying his intercom he announced, "Right Boys. We've got ten of these things to take out. I'll go in first, Ingo and Jack with me. Bilby, you follow my run with Mono and Andrew."
Receiving a chorus of acknowledgements, Millar began targeting the lead fighter with a missile. The weapon system automatically selected a type IV missile. Not knowing what class of weapon a type IV represented, he accessed the help system and looked it up. The system soon told him that the type IV was a drone missile used in target practise and training missions.
"Good thing I checked," he said to himself and selected another missile. Another type IV was chosen. He selected a third; it too was a type IV.
"I don't like the look of this." He brought up the manifest and sure enough, he was carrying a full compliment of type IV training missiles. "Bugger me!" he announce on an open channel. "We're carrying dummy missiles!"
He squeezed experimentally on the firing trigger for the lasers. There was no response. Detecting his query, a mild voice from the weapon system spoke, "The laser emitters are configured for targeting only. Do you wish to charge them for offensive fire? This process takes approximately one hundred and fifty seconds."
X-Force had practically engaged the enemy fighters, and had no offensive capability at all.
"We've got to have time to charge our guns!" He spat out the command, "Bilby, Break right. Take one of the spare fighters with you. You've got to keep away from them until your guns have charged."
He brought his ship sharply up and to the left. Jack and Ingo did the same, one on each side of their commander's flanks. A fourth ship, on autopilot, followed.
The enemy ships changed formation immediately to pursue the fleeing X-Force fighters, breaking into two squads of five.

Back with C-Force, Chris had more time to recover before the enemy fighters were onto them. He broke his ships up into a textbook evasive manoeuvre, sending each one spiralling off in a different direction. The enemy ships responded decisively, Chris and Bobby were chased by one ship each, the remainder paired up to go after the rest of C-Force. The other boys being further back, the fighter chasing Chris was closest and fired first.
Six beams of laser light streaked through the vacuum towards his ship. Chris gave a quick prayer of thanks that his shields, unlike his weapons, were working at full capacity. The beams were stopped or deflected without further damage. Chris responded by spiralling away with a long after burner burst. At the same time he adjusted his ECM, trying to prevent the enemy getting a lock on him.
The ship chasing Bobby responded in a similar fashion, however it also chanced firing a missile without a lock on. The missile shot wide of his ship and carried on harmlessly out into space. This ship proved a bit more accurate with its cannons however. One beam penetrated the shields and gouged a deep channel in the hull armour. His ship's combat effects system conveyed this to him with the sharp sound of an energy impact. He didn't need to hear it though, he could feel the impact, but fortunately no serious damage had been done.
Bobby punched the after burners to put some distance between him and his pursuer. However the other fighter proved to be very manoeuvrable, and kept well within range of its lasers. The sound of his engines roaring monetarily drowned out the sound of laser fire as Bobby struggled to complete his manoeuvre. He managed to find the time to speculate that without a pilot, a robot fighter could undergo a lot more gee force stress than he probably could.
The rest of C-Force managed to keep away from their opposition for the moment.

X-Force, in their two groups, had the robot fighters swarming all over them. Each squad of five fighters were covering their targets' rear shields with a barrage of criss-crossing laser blasts. Despite this, the X-Force shields held, and by dumping large amounts of ECM chaff they prevented their enemy from obtaining a lock on. However, Bilby's group had already lost their spare fighter. The spare fighter at the back of Millar's formation had also absorbed a lot of damage.
Millar checked the laser charge status. It read thirty-percent capacity. Firing too soon would produce only a low powered beam, and could damage the emitter. Despite this he thought it would be worth the risk once the charger was up to eighty percent, still about forty seconds away.
"Let's make this interesting," he said.
Giving Jack and Ingo some quick instructions, Millar pulled up and out of formation. Two robot fighters followed. Seconds later the laser chargers on Jack in Ingo's ships reached eighty percent. They spun their fighters around on their axis and opened fire on the pursuing ships.
The robot fighters accepted damage to their front shields but were effectively unharmed. The three fighters split up and attempted to surround Ingo. One that tried to go over the top of Ingo only succeeded in bringing itself into line of Millar's guns as he completed his loop. Now fully charged, Millar's lasers spat radiant destruction. The VRF laser blasts caught the robot fighter in its central cylindrical section. They smashed through the vessel's shields and destroyed it completely.
"First blood to us!" yelled Millar in triumph.
He continued past the front of his wingmen, the two robot fighters close behind and placing a considerable strain on his rear shields. This brought them directly into line with Jack and Ingo's sights. The boys opened fire on the closest enemy ship, which exploded in a shower of debris. The other ship pulled away in an attempt to join the two ships trying to flank Ingo. These ships now found themselves faced with all three of the X-Force ships.
"We've got better shields and we out gun them. Let 'em have it boys." Millar called.
Meanwhile, Bilby, Mono, and Andrew had turned on their pursuers and done some damage of their own. Now they faced four fighters and although Andrew had taken a few hits, the tide of the battle was turning their way.

While this was happening, C-Force was still completing their evasive manoeuvring. Blasting repeatedly with lasers and missiles, the enemy did not guess the purpose of all their intricate twists and turns. As Chris's guns reached full charge, he pulled back on his flight stick and soon found himself on the tail of Maher's pursuers. This turn also had the effect of bringing the fighter chasing him right into line with Doug, whose own rapid change of direction left his two chasers in front of Bobby, and so on.
Chris and Doug opened fire simultaneously and smashed their targets. Bobby noted from his targeting system that one of the fighters in front of him had previously been damaged. He waited just a fraction of a second longer before firing through its weakened shield and damaged hull armour. The ship was obliterated, the explosion momentarily brighter than the Sun.
"Good shot Bobby!" Doug yelled.
Maher managed to severely damage one of the ships chasing Boyd, but was unable to destroy it. Although the trap had been sprung successfully, the remaining robot fighters seemed to catch on quickly and pulled away before any more damage could be done. The boys pursued them as they tried to regroup.
"OK boys, send me your damage reports." ordered Chris.
He waited for the reports to come in, at the same time reviewing the fight so far and planning his next attack. The robot fighters responded too quickly and decisively to be under internal control, at least any that he had ever heard of being possible. Remote control was also unlikely given the distance they were from any likely transmission sources, and it would not explain the synchronisation of their movements. Perhaps it was a combination of onboard decision making with overriding control governed from some external source. If so it might be possible to trace this transmission back to its origin. His equipment, advanced though it was, would not be up to such a task, but maybe the systems onboard the Comet would be capable of it.
He brought his thoughts back to the task at hand as the damage reports came in. They had all taken hits, which ranged from scratches to serious structural damage. Kain, who had been hit by a missile, was his biggest problem. Boyd had a damaged targeting system but was otherwise stable. Maher had used too much fuel during his evasive manoeuvres.
"Kain, stay on Bobby's wing, don't take any risks," he began, "Boyd, get on Doug's wing. Maher you'll have to lay off the after burners for a while, stay with me."
More confident now that his ships outclassed the robot fighters, Chris allowed C-Force to re-engage the enemy head on.

With X-Force there had been no break in the fighting; by the time C-Force had regrouped, Millar, Jack, and Ingo had destroyed two more of the enemy. Ignoring the remaining fighter they faced, the three boys changed their heading to where the remainder of X-Force was still engaged with four enemy ships. The single robot fighter seemed reluctant to give chase, and changed course in the direction of the Comet.
"They should be able to handle one fighter," Millar thought out loud.
He could see that things had not been going so well with Bilby, Mono, and Andrew. Bilby had been separated from his wingmen and had two enemy fighters after him. Mono and Andrew weren't making much progress with their targets, the two pairs of fighters chasing each other's tails in a continuing series of loops.
"I could use some help here," Bilby called, his voice calm but edged with fear.
Millar watched the range drop and nodded. "Hold your line Bilby, we'll be there in a second."
He soon had the two enemy fighters in his sights and saw that the their attacks were not doing enough damage to Bilby's shields for him to be in any immediate danger of destruction. He had another few seconds at least. So Millar waited for a few of those seconds until his targeting systems achieved a lock on. Further signals told him that his two wingmen had also locked on.
Unfortunately for him, the robot fighters must have detected this and responded in a way no manned ship could. They span on their axis and reversed direction straight towards their pursuers.
"Evasive action, break formation!" Millar ordered.

Millar pulled up abruptly and Ingo moved to comply, but Jack held steady. He judged that he did not have time to get out of the robot fighters' path. Concentrating on the vectors his targeting computer projected around the oncoming ships, he tried to work out his best angle of attack. Then he fired off a continuous burst of VRF lasers, trusting that he would either destroy the oncoming ships or evade them. An explosion and a report from his targeting system told him he had hit the first ship. An instant later a second explosion signalled that the other ship had been destroyed as well.
It was too close; the debris crashed through Jack's front shields and collided with his fighter. Only good fortune preserved the cockpit, located at the front of his ship. The rear section, comprising engines and flight controls, was seriously damaged. It was the end of the battle for Jack.

"Nice work Jack. Hell of a way to chalk up two kills though." Millar commented.
He examined Jack's damage report and said, "You can make it to the Comet, Bilby cover his retreat."
Bilby had begun to loop back towards his Commander when the enemy ships changed course and was now nearly back to their position.
"Yes sir," Bilby replied.
Millar and his two wingmen now attempted to match vectors with the remaining enemy fighters.

C-Force had used this time to good effect and had destroyed three more enemy ships. The remainder of the flight was proving more difficult to hunt down, but no longer posed a serious threat. Chris and his wingman Maher were chasing down a lone fighter. Their targeting computers displayed vector data and other information that could be used to determine the enemy's possible manoeuvres. The enemy ship dodged and turned but was unable to evade the two C-Force fighters. Finally they achieve a targeting lock.
"Take it out Maher," said Chris.
Maher fired several volleys from his guns, all of which penetrated the fighter's by now weakened shields. The ship lurched violently then disintegrated.
"Yeah!" Maher cheered.
"Good shooting." Chris said.
Turning his attention back to the scanner, Chris then spotted a new group of signals.
"FLI Fighters, about bloody time," he said. Signalling the oncoming ships he announced, "UN FLI Fighters, this is UN special Forces group C, please respond."
He added to the signal his personal identification code. He then waited, knowing that the signal would be relayed from the fighters back to the Comet for verification.
Eventually he received a response, directly from the Comet itself.
"C-Force squadron, UNHCV Comet responding, please stand by while we verify your code."
The speaker sounded uncertain, definitely worried, and possibly panicked.
Chris waited a few seconds and then said, "I haven't got all day, you should have been able to clear that code by now. Who's in command there?"
The voice replied, "Ensign Moore, sir. Captain Morris and most of the rest of the bridge crew have been incapacitated. We've only got a skeleton crew available to run the ship and most of our pilots are out of action as well."
"What happened?" Chris asked.
"It's some kind of side effect of re-entering normal space, err..." Moore trailed off.
"Run that by me again ensign," Chris said.
"Well, err..." Moor offered.
Chris decided that it was going to take too long to sort out the situation like this.
"I'm coming aboard," he announced, forwarding image recognition data to the approaching FLI fighters. Then he added, "That should enable you to get missile locks on these robot fighters."
Ensign Moore's voice came back over the comms, "Sir, I really don't have clearance to let you land. Maybe if…"
"No maybes ensign," Chris interrupted, "we're coming aboard."
He scowled at the receiver before adding in a low voice. "I might even have to take command."
C-Force changed course for the Comet as the flight of FLI fighters started chasing the remaining robot fighters.
Chris updated Commander Millar, "Commander, I'm letting the FLIs take it from here. It sounds like they've got major problems on the Comet so I'm taking C-Force aboard to try and sort it out."
Millar responded, "We've taken some hits here and could use a break. We'll join you on the Comet."
Chris said, "Good, we might have to take command ourselves."
"It's that serious?"
"Yeah, we can handle the robot fighters while they are showing up in small groups. But sooner or later they'll start arriving in hundreds."
"Let's do it then."
Chris was pleased that clearly Millar could easily see the bigger picture.
X-Force disengaged from the remaining robot fighters, allowing FLI fighters to take up the chase, and followed C-Force down to the Comet.
"By the way," Millar started, "when were you first commissioned?"
"2034, June," Chris replied, "and you?"
"2034, October. A close thing, I guess that gives you seniority in this situation."

4. 'The Comet'

The boys received no more communication from the bridge as they approached the UNHCV Comet. Long moments passed as the bulk of the ship blocked out the sky. Doug mentally reviewed what he knew about the layout of these vessels. The carrier's superstructure consisted of a large wedge shaped forward section which protected the launch bays, engines, and the main crew quarters. The superstructure was founded on vast triangular frames, with giant generators known a p-spheres at its core. Attached to this main section were the three carrier decks, and beyond these the main ion and plasma engines.
Although considered to be lightly armed by the standards of capital ships, the Comet still bristled with turrets and larger laser cannons, missile bays and shield extenders. Some of the cannons came to life as they approached, turning from side to side, while others were either off line or simply not working. There was still no further verbal communication from the Comet but they were receiving navigation and landing data. He hoped that Ensign Moore was not planning anything rash.
Finally, they entered one of the three cavernous landing bays. Inertial dampening fields slowed the fighters so their speeds matched that of the Comet, they then settled into landing braces built into a conveyer belt attached to the floor.
Doug looked around cautiously. The belt led to refuelling and rearming stations further down from the landing platform.
Ahead of him Maher immediately popped the hatch, smiled broadly and said, "Fill it up please, and let's have some decent missiles." He finished his statement by jumping from the cockpit onto the landing brace. It was then that Doug noticed that the boys standing around the bay were not the flight crew the other boy had obviously expected. They were marines and they all had carbines (messy slug throwers designed for close quarter shipboard fighting); now pointed at Maher.
"Now wait a minute," he started and moved towards them with one arm raised and palm up as if the fend off and attack.
They responded by snapping into firing positions, their powered armour making a low mechanical hum as the servos moved their heavy limbs into position. One of the marines, clearly the leader in sergeant's livery, ordered in a confident voice. "Drop your weapons and step away from the ship."
Maher's smile faded. He raised his hands above his head, looked back, and let out a worried "Commander?"
"Why is it always Maher?" Doug thought across to Kain. His friend responded with the telepathic equivalent of a shrug.
Addressing the squad's sergeant, Chris announced in a low voice, "Not so fast sergeant. You might think your powered armour gives you the edge in this situation."
"You're damn right it does!" The sergeant was clearly not impressed.
Chris continued calmly. "Scan my emissions and you'll see that I haven't powered down my ship's lasers. With my engines off-line I can't generate more than one volley, but I'm sure you'll agree that one will be enough."
Doug drew his pistol, but carefully kept it low so the marines would not see it. He readied himself to open the hatch and start firing, but hoped he would not have to.
The sergeant checked the scanner built into the wrist section of his armour. He then replied in a less confident voice, "That's not possible, the landing cradle disables all functions when a ship lands."
"See for yourself." Chris said as his quad-guns focused on the marines' position.
This seemed to give the sergeant pause. Even encased in half a tonne of powered armour, the marines would not be able to shrug off a blast from Chris's weapons. His face plate, which in combat would usually be opaque, was transparent and Doug could see the boy's eyes dart from one quad-gun to the next, then with a visible effort he steadied himself.
"Could Chris really have charge in those guns?" Doug thought to himself.
The marine sergeant looked at his scanner again. "There is a power emission, but it doesn't prove you can fire."
"It doesn't prove I can't either sergeant," Chris replied. "Look at it this way. As a Commander in the UN Special Forces I can legally take command of this vessel as your captain is incapacitated. You don't want to get yourself blown away trying to prove I can't."
"Your status has not been confirmed." The sergeant offered.
Chris shrugged. "That's not my problem right now. It's yours. Maher, disable their weapons."
Maher moved cautiously to obey. The sergeant gave one more grim look at Chris's lasers, then signalled for his squad to comply. Doug let out a sigh of relief and popped the hatch. In seconds the remainder of C-Force and X-Force had disembarked and taken up position in the landing bay. The scientists seemed a bit subdued after what must have been quite an ordeal for them. Doug smiled to himself as they followed cautiously in a group behind him.
Chris approached the marine leader. "Sergeant, you'll come with us. The rest of your squad will stay here. Maher, you and Kain keep an eye on them."
As Chris walked past the sergeant the marine moved forward. He muttered through his helmet speakers, "I've got to know, was the gun charged?"
"You won't find out in this life time," replied Chris. He then looked over to Commander Millar. "You coming?"
"Yeah." Millar replied blandly. Something was bothering the X-Force commander.
He quickly issued orders. "Mono, stay here with Andrew and refuel the fighters."
He moved up to Chris and spoke in a low voice, but Doug could still make out his words. "You didn't tell me you were expecting trouble."
Chris shrugged. "I wasn't sure there was going to be any."
"You damn well knew something was up." Millar growled.
"I had it covered."
"You were bluffing. You've had less than an hour in that fighter and you're asking me to believe you were able to bypass such a basic safety procedure. No way. I'll let this go for now. We're in a dodgey position here. But get this. You can grandstand in front of your C-Force boys all you want, but if you ever lead me and my boys into trouble like this again you're history."
He said the last with a mild, calm voice that belied a fire in his eyes that made Doug flinch.
"Tell you what." Chris started in a lighter tone. "I'll forget about the fact that you let us fly into a dog fight completely unarmed and you can forget about this."
Millar glared at Chris. "We were assigned to blow the bloody things up, not steal them, we didn't know much more about flying them than you did."
His expression then changed almost instantly into an impish grin. "OK, you've got a point. We're even."
Briefly returning the grin, then seeing that Millar had finished, Chris led the way out of the landing bay and towards the bridge.
Doug was pleased that the potential argument had ended there. He had no desire to see the outcome of a clash between the two Force Commanders. Already he could tell that in many ways C-Force and X-Force were like chalk and cheese, and he wondered how well they would work together in future.

The group stepped into a large transport car at the far end of the landing bay. These cars functioned as a combination of train and elevator, allowing movement between levels to and from most areas of the carrier. Using his personal code again, Chris ordered the car to proceed to the bridge. The car accepted the code and began to move off. Settling into gravity seats, the boys waited as the car sped past various sub levels of the landing bay, past the launch bays and crew berths, then into the front wedge section of the ship. Finally, after a journey that seemed longer than just a few minutes, the car stopped at the Bridge level. Doug could see from the read out of the car's pressure door that the Bridge door on the other side was already open. This relieved Chris of the task of using his personal code to force them open. Through the glass he could see a single impatient looking figure waiting for them. Chris opened the door, stunblaster ready.
"Okay, okay! You've made your point." Said the boy beyond the door. "I'm Ensign Moore, welcome to the UNHCV Comet, Commander."
"What the hell was all that crap about before ensign?" Chris growled, lowering his weapon only slightly.
The Ensign eyed the weapon. "You were approaching us in girl made fighters Commander. Your IFF transponders contradicted your radio communications."
"Was that all?"
"Those fighters out there blowing the hell out of our carriers are girl made too." Moore finished.
Millar sounded dubious. "They don't look like any girl fighters I've ever seen."
"I'd never seen the girl ships we were just flying until today." Doug offered.
"I think you'll understand if you come and look at this, sirs." Moore replied.
Chris gave a sideways glance at Millar, then he holstered his stunblaster with a shove. "Okay, show us."
The boys entered the bridge of the Comet and Doug looked about in surprise at the lack of personnel. The Command Bridge was a large, oval shaped room about forty meters in diameter. It was filled with terminals and functional command posts. Only a few of these were currently manned.
Ensign Moore led them to the command dais in the centre of the room. Usually the captain and or the executive officer occupied this. Now it was empty. The dais was too small for everyone, so only ensign Moore and the two Commanders climbed the three stairs to its top.
Doug sat down at a vacant command station and waited for Ensign Moore to explain what was going on.
"Now," Moore began. "The Comet and the other four carriers out there have been secretly testing a new propulsion system which makes possible faster-than-light travel." He paused, seemingly expecting to be questioned. But the expressions on the faces of both Millar and Chris plainly said that they either knew of these tests, or were prepared to accept him at his word.
Nathaniel Wong could not keep silent at this though. "Faster than light travel, how? I've done a lot of research on tachyonic fields, but surely a working engine is decades away."
"We'll leave the technical stuff for you to sort out later, Doctor." Chris said. "We need to know what else is going on. Ensign?"
Moore continued, "This wasn't just a test. The Captain knows the full story, but for whatever reason UNMHQ risked refitting our five largest serving carriers with these new drives and sent us out independently, light years away from Earth. The drives are capable of transforming the ship into tachyons for a certain pre-set time period. The tach ship, as it is known, then travels much faster than light from a non-tachyon frame of reference. The drive then turns the tach ship back into a tardyon ship, meaning that it returns to normal space. We had no trouble with the outward journey, in a little under three weeks we reached a star fifteen light years from here. We ran some scans, didn't find much, then set off on the return leg.
"Half an hour ago we arrived back in Earth orbit, but we'd over shot the moon by a long way. This was the least of our problems though, for upon resuming tard most the crew passed into some sort of coma. I don't know what caused this, there does appear to be some damage to the tach drive, but I haven't had time to check it out.
"That's only the start of it of course. Things have got a lot worse. But it's probably easier if you just watch the bridge log record from 2079.25.4.13:20," Moore finished.
Millar and Chris moved over to the command console and keyed in the log for the time Moore suggested. The log recorder skipped back and then focused. Ensign Moore was standing on the command dais giving orders to the remaining crew. The main viewer held a scan of the Moon with the UN Head Quarters at Beta Base clearly in view. Suddenly the image shimmered, and then the entire moon disappeared from view, taking Beta Base with it. Millar checked the sensors at this point. They registered no difference in gravitation force and could only guess that something too small to be visible, but incredibly dense, now orbited the Earth where the moon was previously. Chris quickly replayed the incident.
Moore was right, Doug thought, I wouldn't have believed this if I didn't see it.
Then the log played back a transmission from Earth. The message began with the Circle and Cross symbol of the Girl federation. A voice, familiar to the Doug as the leader, dictator was a more accurate term, of the Girls then spoke. The voice was crisp and precise with undertones of thinly veiled cruel amusement. Yet it was not the voice of a human, for the Girls' leader was Cybernetica, an ancient Precursor artefact unearthed some decades before. Part organic and part machine, Cybernetica's voice seemed completely human, or even more than human, as if it was attempting to communicate in other ways than mere human language. It may have been this factor alone which brought about an instinctive distrust in most boys, who persistently referred to the computer in the third person as 'It'. Girls, particularly those in the UGF, insisted that Cybernetica be referred to as a 'She'.
The transmission continued. "People of Earth, you know me. You know that for years I have sought the betterment of your kind with the knowledge of the Precursors. Many Girls have listened and joined me, but the boys have been stubborn. They wish to hold all the power. Now the time has come for a new order to begin in the world. My forces have destroyed the seat of your corrupt and patriarchal government, Beta Base," It finished this with an audible sneer.
"The bulk of the UNM has been swept away. The pitiful remnant will soon follow. My forces have also undermined your land-based defences. I call upon you all, people of Earth, to surrender. Join me and I shall take your race out to the stars and beyond. Don't make me destroy you."
The message ended abruptly, only to be replaced by the sound of warning klaxons. Defence scanners picked up thousands of fighters suddenly appearing, Ensign Moore advised that they were resuming tard, around the four UNHCVs. The log continued with Moore ordering those who could respond to make the ship ready for combat and accelerate towards the battle.
Millar straightened and turned to Chris. He drew in a breath with teeth slightly bared. "I don't think we need to see any more."
"You're right there," Chris agreed "Ensign Moore, I'm relieving you of command of this vessel. I hope you don't have a problem with that?"
The ensign looked like a man who had just had a large weight removed from his shoulders. "No sir. You have command. Please understand that with all the confusion, I couldn't just trust your personal code alone."
"That's all right ensign. Just make sure you follow my orders from now on."
He paused for a heartbeat and then ordered, "Leave orbit and head towards the asteroid belt at maximum speed. We are withdrawing."

5. 'The Get Away Part II'

Chris looked at the faces of those around him. He could read confusion and disagreement on most of them. He paused to take another look at scan. The slaughter he saw there convinced him he was right. He motioned for Millar to look at it as well.
Chris straightened until he stood almost at attention. His voice carried across the bridge. "All right, I know what you're thinking. But there is no way we can help those other carriers now. We've got to think of the best way to serve Earth."
"By running away!" shouted Mono in disagreement.
"C'mon Commander," Bilby said to Millar. "Now we know Cybernetica's behind this, we can launch our own attack on the Girl Federation's land bases. We can do a lot of damage before they get us all."
Millar stern response was tempered with resignation. "No, Commander Chris is right. The other carriers are lost. We are now the only effective fighting force left in the UNM. So we've got to give ourselves time to come up with a plan, and to sort out what's happened here."
He turned to Moore who was still waiting there. "Relay the order to withdraw Ensign."
"Aye aye sir." He replied formally. He stopped on the last step of the command dais. "Where exactly in the asteroids do you want our heading set Commander?"
Chris tapped in a number of commands into the console in front of him. "I'm entering the co-ordinates into the command console now. Ensure they are followed precisely."
Moore walked over to the engineering console and relayed the order. Soon the Comet began to change its course. The other members of C-Force and X-Force moved to occupy various unmanned bridge stations. They all had additional skills that would help in the running of the ship until a way could be found to revive the other crew members.
In a low voice Millar said to Chris, "I take it we're heading for one of the UNM's secret research bases."
Chris nodded. "It's unmanned but well hidden, going there will buy us some time."
"Are you sure you don't want to head for the Mars colonies? I know they're not up for much, but they'll be more use than asteroids."
"I thought of it, yeah, but I'd say Cybernetica's thought of it as well. We'd just be putting the colonists there in danger. There's been enough loss of life today." Chris said.
"There were fifty million people on Beta Base, boys and girls." Millar agreed.
"Oh, I don't think they're dead. Not yet anyway," said Nathaniel, climbing to the top of the command dais. He seemed completely unaware of the breech in protocol.
"You don't?" Chris and Millar asked in tandem.
"Firstly, we have to ask ourselves what is it more likely that Cybernetica could do; make the moon vanish, or destroy it? As Commander Millar said earlier, if the moon were destroyed, the loss of its gravitation pull on the Earth would be a catastrophe. Yet the Earth is undamaged and our sensors show no change in the gravitational fields around us. So something is there. Could it be the moon is somehow still there, but hidden from us? If so it is likely that the people on Beta Base would be able to let us know of this, or at least launch a few more ships. The power to destroy the moon outright, without vast quantities of matter being thrown out in every direction is so great that it seems the least likely of explanations. And it would not explain the gravity situation. Neither case is supported by the facts. Something more is going on here, and I am going to find out what."
Nathaniel finished and stepped back off the dais and over to the science station.
"He seems pretty sure of himself," said Millar.
"He's a bright guy, a genius according to his file," Chris replied.
Millar cocked an eyebrow. "A genius eh? You don't say."
Chris gave an exaggerated nod. "Well we didn't risk our necks rescuing him for nothing."

Bridge, UNHCV Comet
Beyond Mars, Sol System
1600 hours GMT 2079-April-25

By now the Comet had successfully left Earth's orbit and was no longer being pursued by the robot fighters. Either the enemy could not track them at this range, or it no longer considered them a threat. In this time most of the crew had regained consciousness. They seemed to have no lasting side effects from the coma and were soon able to resume their posts. This allowed the Comet to increase its speed and improved the overall running of the ship.
Eventually Captain Morris awoke. He received a quick summary of the situation from the ship's log, and soon stormed onto the bridge. At his entrance Millar and Chris looked up from the command station. His captain's uniform looked out of place on him. Blonde hair stuck out randomly from under his hat. This combined with a healthy tan made him look as though he would be more at home on the beach than on the bridge of a warship. His gaze swept across the bridge, taking in every detail, then met the return stares of Chris and Millar from atop the command dais. The Captain's blue eyes radiated decades of command experience and, at that moment, anger.
He shot out a finger accusingly and said, "You two, briefing room, now."
Then he walked swiftly over to the briefing room entrance, fifteen paces around the outer walkway of the bridge. Chris and Millar exchanged slightly amused glances at the theatrics, then stepped down from the dais and followed Morris to the briefing room.
On the way Chris stopped by Nathaniel at the science station. He had to tap to the scientist on the shoulder to get his attention. "You'd better come with us."
Wordlessly the scientist keyed in a few commands and then joined him. Soon the four boys were in the briefing room. Designed to accommodate about a dozen officers, the room contained two ranks of six chairs facing each other around a narrow elliptical table. At the head of the table was a small platform with a presentation lectern and holo-projector. Chris, Millar, and Nathaniel sank into gravity chairs while Morris continued to pace. Every few seconds his hand strayed down towards a pistol at his side.
"Why don't you calm down a little," said Millar.
At this Morris stopped and by a visible effort of will assumed a more relaxed stance.
At length he lent forward onto a chair and cleared his throat. "Okay, so it's a bit of a shock to see you Special Forces spooks running my ship. I don't agree with your retreat from Earth but you've probably done the best you could given the situation. However now that I'm back it's time to relinquish command."
"That depends on what you're planning to do captain," Chris said. "We didn't save this ship just so you can throw it away uselessly."
Morris stepped towards the seated C-Force Commander.
"Watch your tone with me commander. You were within your powers when you took control of the Comet. Now that I'm back you're compelled by law to relinquish it."
Chris returned his stare without apparent effort. "Not in this situation. I've invoked emergency protocols to change the command codes on this ship. It's mine until I say so."
Seeing that Morris was about to explode Chris added quickly, "I fully intend to give the ship back to you Captain. But first you'd better listen to what we have to say."
Morris's brows contracted over eyes that locked onto Chris's. "This had better be damn good Commander."
"OK, on the surface we have what looks like the complete destruction of the UNM space fleet minus the Comet. This is Doctor Nathaniel Wong, a scientist we rescued from a Girl base in Afghanistan. I've allocated him an echelon 5 security clearance. We can trust what he says and he thinks there's more to it. Doctor..."
Nathaniel stood and walked over to the presentation stand at the end of the room. He activated the stand's projection field and made a few minor adjustments. "I've forwarded my preliminary findings to this station. If you'll have a seat Captain."
Morris stood there for a moment and then sat and waited for him to continue. Nathaniel keyed the projector to replay the sensor log from earlier, which showed the disappearance of the moon.
"Notice the shimmering around the moon immediately before it vanishes." He began. "I tried all the usual systems to identify this phenomenon and they were of no help. However on this ship gentlemen we have another sensor. One associated with the tachyonic drive. It detects by-products of the tachyisation process. Captain Morris, Ensign Moore suggested that you might be able to give us a more complete picture of why the Comet was out fitted with such devices, and what its mission is."
Morris thought it over for a few seconds, then shrugged. "I can probably tell you this now, but a month ago no one knew of this apart from the Captain's of the five carriers, UNM High Command, and a small scientific team.
"Three months ago a UNM Science division team working on a pre-cursor device discovered that its function was the transformation and detection of tachyon particles. They theorised that with this technology it would be possible for a ship to travel effectively faster than the speed of light. That was the good news. The bad news was that the detector part of the device was showing that this had already been done. Tachyon burst resonance can be detected for some time after the event. Someone had developed ships with FTL capability and had been flying them in and out of our solar system for at least two years. The military implications of this are staggering. We had to find out who owned these ships and what they were doing.
"So Science Division were given the go ahead to produce our own tach drives. The power output required to run the things is immense, and the only ships capable of it were our five heavy carriers. By the time they had been installed, UNM Intelligence had calculated a ninety six percent correlation between tachyonic burst detection incidents and UGF ship movements. As you can imagine, that was our worst nightmare. With all of Cybernetica's rhetoric and threats, who knows what she could have at her disposal with interstellar bases mass producing weapons without interference from UN inspection teams. So we set out with the idea of checking nearby systems for any sign of UGF bases, and the tachyonic burst detectors were designed to track our own movement and search for these other ships. That's it in a nut shell, but what has that got to do with the moon?"
Nathaniel nodded. "I believe the shimmer we can see just before the moon vanishes is the visible manifestation of a tachyon burst. The detectors back this up. That means that the moon has not been destroyed, but rather transported to some other location, probably many light years away."
Morris accessed the information from his chair's data station. His earlier anger had all but disappeared. He was now all business. "It's possible. The detectors register a coherent transfer. An incoherent transfer would mean that the moon would never resume tard. But the power required is just unthinkable. And how could such a field be generated, are we to believe the moon is a starship?"
"It has been suggested before," said Millar with a grin.
"Let's try and stay rational here," Chris replied.
"Actually he could have a point there," Morris said guardedly. "I guess it is possible that the Lunar testing facilities could have been subverted to produce this effect." He turned to Wong, his expression thoughtful. "How would this theory explain the lack of change in gravity Doctor?"
Wong rubbed his chin. "If Cybernetica has the power to send the moon into tach, who knows what she can't do. But maybe a simple explanation is that she transported in something to replace the moon. A proxy if you will. Something with the same mass, but far more dense."
He placed both hands on the table firmly and leant forward towards the other three boys. "Anyway, you see this is all good news. The tachyonic burst detectors don't only tell us that the moon went into tach. They can also tell us where it will resume tard. We can go find it!"
Millar nodded grimly. "Okay, okay, I get it but it also means something else. We won't be the only ones looking..."
"Of course!" Chris interrupted. "We've been wondering why we haven't seen any Girl Capital ships. They have only used fighters so far. We got away from that girl base because the fighters that should have been patrolling its air space were already in orbit. Cybernetica needed them in orbit because she needed her warships somewhere else. They're going after the moon."
"Then we have to get there first," said Morris. His grim expression of determination quickly turned to one of frustration. "But how can we do that with a faulty tach drive? We barely made it back to Earth. Who knows what's going to happen if we try a tach jump again?"
"Leave that to me Captain," said Wong. He stepped down from the presentation stand and walked straight out to the bridge.
"He's a cocky bastard isn't he?" said Morris.
Chris and Millar could only nod in agreement.

6. 'Preparation'

C Force Commander's Log, UNHCV Comet
Inner Asteroid belt, Sol System
2200 hours GMT 2079-April-25

By now the Comet had reached the presumed safety of the asteroid belt. Not much later we reached the UNM outpost hidden within a hollowed out asteroid. Although there were no real shortages, we used the opportunity to take on some fuel and supplies. Something to take the crew's minds off our current predicament, if nothing else. Captain Morris, now back in command, had briefed the crew on the situation. After an initial period of shock the boys had settled down to the task well. They, like we, know that our efforts could yet thwart Cybernetica's plan. A tense but determined atmosphere now pervades the ship.
Morris allocated us and X-Force quarters in the rapid deployment station on the flight deck. These are large, spartan, dormitories that don't offer much in the way of comfort. However they do keep us close to our ships, and isolated from the rest of the crew. The former allows quick access to the fighters in an emergency. The latter was an advantage because of who we are. Regular navy personnel are always full of questions when it came to those in the Special Forces. Questions C-Force and X-Force do not want to answer.
Time for some food now.

End log entry.

Chris and the rest of C-Force had taken some needed rest and were now finishing off a late dinner.
"But what I don't understand is why did they send the moon somewhere else," said Bobby. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands. "Surely it would be easier to simply 'send it into tach' as you say and never bring it back."
Chris shrugged. "This is all new science Bobby. We don't know yet whether it's possible to destroy something just by sending it into tach. Maybe it has to come out somewhere. Or maybe it needed to be a coherent transfer so as not to effect the Earth."
Doug was digging through the last of his desert container, but was still paying attention to the discussion. "Maybe Cybernetica needs something from the moon. There are still tonnes of Precursor relics waiting to be examined. I bet she'd like to get a hold of them."
The others considered this truth before Maher added his own thoughts. "She'll have to get past the UNM fleet on Beta Base first. That'll take some firepower. And they're going to be mad as shit when they come out of tach."
Kain was not so positive. "But who knows what shape they'll be in when they do," he said sullenly. "Tachyisation is obviously dangerous enough on a starship, but on a whole planetoid?"
Boyd put aside the personal shield generator he was working on, suddenly eager to voice his own thoughts on the situation. "I was talking to one of the scientists, Dr O'Brien. He tells me that it's not going to be easy to find the moon." The others turned to listen to him as he continued. "It's not just a case of tracking where it went from the tach burst. The detector can only give a probability of where it will resume tard. We'll go to the most likely place, then sift around for a resonance to see if that's where it really is. If not the detector will tell us somewhere else the moon could be and we'll have to go there. Each time it'll take a day or so to recharge our tach drive. It's going to take some time."
"That's not such a bad thing," said Chris, "The more possibilities, the more spread out the UGF fleet is going to have to be to find it. Meaning we'll hopefully encounter less resistance." He drained the last of his coffee and stood. "Anyway, we'll make a start on it tomorrow. Set a wake up call for 0730. I'd like to spend the morning on the fighter flight simulators."

Over in X-Force's quarters the boys where also discussing the day's events, with a slightly different emphasis. Sitting on adjacent bunks Ingo was saying to Bilby, ".. So then the fighter passed right in front of me. Couldn't have missed if I tried. Then boom! There was nothing left of it."
He emphasised his by point smashing his fist into his palm.
"That's my first kill in this war. It sure won't be my last. The only problem is that no one was in it."
Millar was dozing on his bunk, his hat covering his eyes. At Ingo's comment he propped himself up on his elbows and made eye contact from under the brim of his hat. "Nice one Ingo, but don't forget who put you in position for that kill. And remember we don't kill people if we don't have to. There's few enough left in the world."
Ingo turned to face his commander.
"But Cybernetica killed thousands today. Four of our carriers! What I'd give to have a few of her girls in my sights."
Millar knew better than to argue with Ingo in this mood. So he turned to Mono to change the subject. "What's the status of our fighters?"
"Pretty much back to one hundred percent. The boys on the flight deck where happy to lay on some plas-armour and missiles. We're fully refuelled as well. There was a bit of trouble with Jack's engines, but I got some parts from the spare ships C-Force have."
"Do they know about it?" Millar asked mildly.
"No," came the response.
Millar grinned as Mono continued.
"The boys had trouble reconfiguring the IFF transponders on our new prototype fighters. Instead of junking them and installing standard ones I got them to install a switch allowing them to be turned back to their original signal. Not that I can think of a reason why the hell we'd want to do that. It wouldn't fool the girls for more than a few seconds and might get us killed by our own ships. Still it couldn't be that bad an idea I guess since C-Force did the same thing with their fighters."
Millar nodded. He would have done the same thing. Then he turned to Bilby. "I'd like you to take first watch on the bridge tonight. Stay for five hours then come back and get Jack. Try to get to know the bridge officers, take everything in. You never know when it might come in handy. I want the rest of you up at 0800."

The night, or what passes for night on a starship, passed uneventfully. The boys spent the morning nervously waiting for the Comet's tachyon drive to charge up. During the night Dr O'Brien had plotted the most likely position for the moon's re-entry, a binary star system some twenty-two light years away. He had decided to name it Hope system, and the others had readily agreed to the appropriateness of the name. Dr Wong had spent his time performing miracles refining the tachyon drive. By examining all the diagnostic data and making the appropriate changes, he now believed that they would be able to travel fifteen percent faster, and without any side effects as had been experienced before. The third scientist, Dr Marc Bakker, was not an expert in the area of tachyons and so spent the time learning from the other two.
At 1130 hours Captain Morris brought the Comet out of the asteroids on O'Brien's instructions. The scientist advised that it would be safer to go in to tach as far away from gravitational fields as possible, even the relatively week fields in the asteroid belt. By 1230 the Comet's tachyon drive had fully charged. Chris, Millar, and the scientists joined Morris on the bridge. Chris looked over at Nathaniel. Black rings underlined the scientist's eyes, he held a cup of coffee loosely in one hand, and swayed slightly from side to side. However, deep behind the exhaustion his eyes held a glint of triumph.
"Why doesn't he go get some sleep?" Chris asked Millar in a low voice.
"Probably wants to see if he has buggered up the tach drive before he does that," was his reply.
"That's a sobering thought. We're about to travel through another universe in what is little more than an experiment."
Captain Morris called them up onto the command dais. His voice became quiet. "I've been thinking. We can't be sure that Cybernetica knows we're still alive. But once we make this jump they're bound to detect the burst on Earth, and they'll be onto us."
O'Brien replied, "We're on the far side of the asteroids from Earth. That should help to hide our tachyon burst when we go into tach. They'll probably still detect us, but it will be harder for them to tell where we are going."
The Captain shrugged. "Well we can't stay here anyway." He turned to his first officer and ordered, "Activate tachyon drive."
The officer, Terry Patterson, replied in the affirmative and relayed the order to engineering. The ship shuddered almost imperceptibly and then disappeared into the chaotic maelstrom of tachyon space.

Commander's Report; C-Force

As far as the experience of a passenger is concerned, travelling in tach space is much the same as travelling in real space. Time passes at the same rate in both universes, while the ship travels much faster in tach space relative to real space. The most significant difference is the view. A chaotic rush of particles meaningless to them blinds the ship's sensors. View screens to the outside of the hull are effected in much the same way, while physically looking through one of the few portholes produces an effect not unlike that of certain mind altering drugs once used on Earth before the cataclysm.
The only real problem arose on Sunday, when I was asked whether it was appropriate to celebrate Mass in such a universe. This provided me with the opportunity to meet the ship's padre, Father Chris Murphy. We discussed this and a number of other matters before coming to the conclusion that as the author of all creation, it was certain possible for God to be present in the sacraments regardless of them being in tachyon space. Or any other universe that might be discovered for that matter. We used the occasion to hold a requiem mass for the lives lost on the four UNM carriers, and for those who would be lost in the weeks ahead. All of C-Force and most of X-Force attended, as well the majority of the off duty crew.

End log entry

Bridge, UNHCV Comet
Deep Space, Hope system
1000 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Eight days into its journey the Comet resumed tard in the binary system plotted by John. Not knowing what to expect, the ship was at battle stations, with two hundred fighters ready to launch. The scanning station's first officer, ensign Richard Baker, peered carefully at the data as it slowly accumulated. The first object to be detected was a gas giant at 15.7 AU from the brighter of the two stars. There was a group of asteroids at 9.2 AU, and a small planet at 0.3 AU, too close to one of the stars to support life. Lastly there was a planet with an atmosphere about .9 AU from the stronger of the two stars. This planet had three moons and looked as though it should support life. Apart from these naturally occurring phenomena, the scan revealed nothing. No huge fleet of girl ships, as some of the boys had feared. Still, it would be easy to hide any number of ships in a system like this, and they would have to remain cautious.
Baker passed this information through to the command station.

Nathaniel reviewed this from what he now considered to be his Science station on the bridge. The ranking science officer had been pragmatic and conceded the position without argument.
Of the moon there was no sign. He was disappointed with this. As far as he was concerned the sooner these current problems were dealt with the sooner he could get back to some real research in a proper laboratory. This meant they would have to implement his contingency plan and set up a tachyon resonance station. The detection of such waves is extremely difficult and impossible with the usual ambient radiation in space. Deep underground in a large land mass was the place to set up a detection centre. With an atmosphere that by his calculations should be breathable, the second planet was an ideal site to set up a tachyon burst resonance detector.
They had had ample time to plan for this while in tach. It was a task that would not require Nathaniel's direct involvement. Commander Chris would pilot a shuttle down to the planet's surface carrying a crew of eight marines, two technicians, the scientist John O'Brien, and the detector equipment. John is competent enough to install and use the equipment effectively. The shuttle would be given an escort of four fighters, piloted by Doug, Ingo, Millar, and Bobby. A suitable task for their abilities. Once they have set up the detector the Comet will withdraw to a defensive orbit and wait for the ground team to complete its mission.

Three hours after resuming tard, the Comet safely entered the orbit of the second planet. Further scans proved that the atmosphere was indeed breathable, a fortunate match with what a human needed to survive. Although there were many life readings, remarkable in themselves, the scan found nothing to suggest that there was any intelligent life, or at least any that was technologically advanced. They chose a site on one of the smaller continents, one that also registered the least life forms.
"Intelligent or not, there is no point in taking any chances with close encounters." John had said.

On board the shuttle, Chris was making his final preparations for launch. He checked again his ship's status levels and loadout. The shuttle was a standard landing craft consisting of two main levels. The first level contained storage, passenger seating and parking bays for two ground skimmers. Flight crew had removed one of the skimmers and replaced it with the detection equipment on board a self-propelled digger. These odd vehicles were used formerly on the moon to dig for artefacts, and came complete with a solid rocket booster used to return to the surface.
The second level of the shuttle held the engine room and fuel tanks, as well as the pilot's controls and navigator's chair, currently occupied by John O'Brien. Defensively the shuttle could boast reasonably strong shields, compared with a fighter, and a single 360-degree laser turret that was mounted between the twin engines. Positioned at the junction of the rear and top armour plates, this weapon was capable of providing protection from rear attacks and able swing around to fire straight ahead of the shuttle.
Not that that should be necessary, Chris thought. That is what the four fighters escorting us are for. With no sign of any girl activity, he thought they should have no problems reaching the planet's surface. He signalled for clearance from the bridge.
The Chief Flight officer, David Spackman responded, "Opening drop bay doors. Transferring control to shuttle craft. Launch when ready."
The drop bay doors opened to reveal the shining planet below. The shuttle was anchored upside down from the point of view of the Comet. Drop bays were designed this way to enable the shuttle's turret to be brought into play as soon as possible after launch. It also allowed Chris and John a spectacular view from the cockpit. Through intervening puffy white clouds they could see vast blue oceans lapping the shores of continents covered by a riot of green vegetation, grey mountains topped with snow, and sandy plains. Although the ship was too close for him to see the Polar Regions, earlier scans had shown evidence of ice caps.
This was a very inviting looking planet.
"Looks like a great place to start a colony once these present troubles end," said John.
"Yeah. Looks that way," Chris replied distractedly as he focused his attention on the flight instruments.
Satisfied he was ready, Chris punched the release panel and the shuttle was rapidly expelled from the drop bay. The shuttle's inertial dampers purposely let through enough momentum to provide them with the sensation of falling, allowing the inner ear to corroborate what their eyes were telling their brains. Soon they cleared the Comet's radar shadow and Chris immediately spotted the four fighters that formed their escort moving in to positions around them. Ingo and Doug moved to the left and right of the shuttle, one kilometre ahead, while Millar and Bobby held the left and right rear flanks at the same distance.
Soon Millar's voice came through on the cabin speakers, "We've got you covered commander. Stay on course."
"Not much of a course to stay on," Chris said to himself.
Indeed the course was a simple one from the Comet down to the landing site. The shuttle's autopilot could probably handle it unaided. Despite this, Chris was looking forward to being the first one to land on this new planet. He had spent a while trying to come up with an impressive line, finally settling on, "One step for a small man."
Buffeting from the now rapidly approaching atmosphere brought him back to the task at hand. It was not too severe, well within the capabilities of the ship's shielding. Ahead of him he could see the heat trails from Ingo and Doug as their fighters began to enter the atmosphere proper.
The trails suddenly stopped.
That's odd. He checked the scanner and saw to his surprise that the fighters piloted by Ingo and Doug were no longer registering. Discounting a scan malfunction he wondered whether it was some kind of atmospheric phenomenon. In these few seconds the shuttle caught up with the position where the two fighters disappeared. He keyed open a channel to Commander Millar.
"Hey Millar. Something's..." Suddenly klaxons rang out warning of a system wide failure.

"Bobby, Millar, pull up it's a..." Chris yelled, his transmission cut off before he could finish.
Monitoring this from his fighter, Millar quickly adjusted his course away from the planet. Bobby also changed course. Unable to open a direct channel, he broadcast a reply, "Commander Chris, please respond. Commander, are you there?"
Receiving only static in reply, Bobby checked his scanner again for any sign of the shuttle. There was nothing. Soon the boys heard the voice of Captain Morris over their speakers, "Boys, there is nothing you can do. There is some sort of jamming field stopping our sensors from penetrating the atmosphere. Long-range scan has just reported a tachyon burst from a large vessel arriving in this system. The girls are here. Return to the Comet."
After another frantic look down onto the planet's surface, Bobby complied. Commander Millar, furious at the loss of one of his team, hit the after burners to race back to the Comet. "Someone's going to pay for this, big time."

7. 'Landing'

In the cockpit of the stricken shuttle, Chris fought to get some response from the controls. His mind raced to come up with some options. The good news was that they had entered the atmosphere without being torn to shreds and incinerated. The downside to this was that the ship was falling to earth at a rate that would make the word impact more appropriate than the word land if he could not find a way to slow them down.
Normally if both engines are lost there should still plenty of power left in the inertial dampers to run the repulsors, allowing for a rough but relatively safe landing. In a fighter, shield energy in the power wings can be used to glide down to the surface. Both of these were out of the question here though. His instruments indicated that whatever knocked out the engines had also drained the dampers. A quick check confirmed that the repulsor belt locker was also registering a system failure. Not that bailing out and abandoning the resonance equipment was an option he could consider anyway. There was enough shield energy to provide a small set of power wings, but he was not flying a fighter. A shuttle this big could not glide without getting thrust from somewhere, and without it they were doomed.
"It's no good, all drive systems are off-line, we're flying a brick!" he yelled to John.
Then, switching on the cabin intercom he announced, "Hold on everyone. Check your repulsor belt locker's status."
He received a chorus of panicked responses in the negative.
"Thought so. Got any ideas?" Chris yelled at John over the buffeting of the hull.
John remained silent and just stared open mouthed at the altimeter's rapidly spinning gauge.
"C'mon John! We've got to think of something or we won't be needing that digger to get the detector underground, we'll make a big enough hole ourselves."
With a start John's face came alive and he yelled back, "That's it! The digger, it's got a solid rocket booster. It should still work. That'll give you some thrust."
"If we can secure it somehow we could use it as a retro rocket," Chris said hopefully.
John activated the intercom and spoke to the two technicians in the passenger bay, "Jansen, Roberts, man the digger," He ordered.
"What fucking good is that going to do," was the response from Roberts.
"Just do it!" yelled Chris, "Get in there and dig straight into the bulkhead. Use the backup battery if you have to. When I blow the bay doors you activate the rocket. Get to it now or we're all dead!"
The sounds of safety belts being unfastened could be heard over the intercom as the technicians moved to comply.
John muted the intercom before saying to Chris, "Do you think this can really work?"
Chris glanced at the altimeter then back to John and gave him a look that said they had no other options.
"Wait a minute," Chris said, looking back at the instruments panel, "We've still got charge in the turret. I can pull that out and use it to power the shield wings. Maybe I can squeeze some out of a few other systems as well. What ever force hit us seems only to effect some of the systems, like we passed through some kind of wave..."
He unmuted the intercom, "You marines, once the techs have drilled into the bulk head use your lasers and anything you can find to try and weld it in solidly. Then get back to your seats before they activate the rocket."
"Yes sir!" yelled the marine sergeant.
A high pitched metallic shriek over the intercom told Chris and John that the techs had the digger in position. Soon they could hear the sound of laser fire as the marines tried to fix it in place.
Chris began to feel a measure of control returning to the flight stick as he drained the laser turret to boost the power in the shield wings. Seeing the ground rushing up to meet them he called into the intercom, "Marines, give it ten seconds more then get back to your seats and strap in."
He began searching for somewhere to land. Fortunately, they were still relatively close to their original target, a large plain in the middle of one of the smaller continents. He could not pick out any details, only a sea of lightly coloured grass. He hoped that the ground was as flat as the grass made it look.
The marine sergeant's voice came back over the intercom. "We're strapped in and ready commander."
"Hold on." Chris said and activated the emergency release on the skimmer bay doors. A second later he heard the concussion of the rocket booster being fired. He immediately checked his horizontal speed and saw it was slowly going up.
"Increasing flaps, getting positive lift," he said automatically as he struggled with the controls. The shuttle continued its descent but now at least it was moving forwards as well. The airflow provided lift and soon the stricken ship was skimming just a kilometre above the ground as the rocket booster began to run out.
"This is it," said Chris. Not wanting to increase the shuttle's considerable drag he waited until the last possible moment to lower the emergency landing gear.
Though he had done his best he knew this was not going to be a good landing.
The shuttle scythed its way through the grass, then ploughed into the earth. The landing gear was shorn straight off and the shuttle dug a furrow hundreds of meters long. The ferocity of the impact started a number of grass fires in the shuttle's wake before it finally came to rest with its nose half buried by scorched earth and debris.

C-Force fighter C-4
Target Continent Hope II, Hope system
1400 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Doug popped the hatch of his ruined fighter and stood up in the cockpit. Buckling on his gun belt, he stepped onto the airframe and looked at the scene around him. Binoculars would be handy, he thought to himself, and detached a compact set from his belt. Scanning the area he could see the remains of Ingo's fighter several hundred meters to his right. Apparently the X-Force pilot was no more successful at landing than himself.
Ingo was standing on the nose of his fighter and Doug waved to attract his attention. Ingo waved back in return and then pointed towards the west. Following this with his binoculars, Doug saw a cloud of smoke rising off the plain. The readout on the binoculars range finder gauged it to be 20.3 kilometres away. He increased the magnification but was unable to make out any details.
Most likely the shuttle, he thought. Smoke was not a good sign, he hoped his commander had landed it safely. When Doug returned his binoculars to Ingo's position he saw that the X-Force pilot had gathered some equipment and was signalling that he was coming to join him. Blaster in one hand, Ingo jumped down onto the plain and practically disappeared into the high grass.
Several minutes passed without further sign of him and Doug began to wonder whether some creature might have been hiding in the grass. On Earth a tiger, lion, or other beast would be undetectable in these conditions until it was too late.
He switched his binoculars to infrared, and found nothing in the grass at all. This was a relief however, for he knew that while Ingo's personal defence counter measures would probably hide him, no natural creature would have such a capability. In another few seconds Ingo appeared, pushing aside the grass five meters from the nose of Doug's fighter.
"Nice day for it." Doug reached down to help Ingo climb onto the airframe.
Ingo smirked, brushed some grass off his flight suit. "Yeah, tell me about it. It was hard work just reaching you. We're going to have to hump it twenty clicks to reach the shuttle. And when we get there we might only find mangled bodies and a gutted ship." He did not sound not at all phased at the prospect of dead bodies.
"You don't know the Commander," said Doug.
He detached a survival pack from inside the cockpit, opened it and checked its contents. Satisfied, he stood and resumed speaking. "He'll have found a way to land the shuttle. And it'll be a lot safer for us if we're with him and the others."
"Safer from what?" asked Ingo suspiciously
Doug gave him a measured look. "You don't think what ever knocked out our engines was a natural phenomenon do you?"
Ingo shrugged. "No. I s'pose not. Got to be girls, or worse. But a scanner would easily pickup our crash sites. And Chris will figure all this out. Do you think he'll stay with the shuttle?"
Doug thought about this for a moment. Ingo was right, Chris would not stay near the shuttle if he could help it. "Well he's got a skimmer and the digger but if they've been damaged he might not have any choice but to set up the tachyon detector near by."
"We'd better get started," Ingo began. "It's not easy travelling at ground level. We'll need our global positioning systems just to go in a straight line, and it won't be any easier once it gets dark."
"Which it will be in about four hours," Doug finished for him.

Chris's vision swam between the blinking lights of the command console and the dirt and grass piled up over nose of the shuttle. Alerted to a noise at his right, he looked to see John struggling to get out of his safety harness. The scientist thrashed about frantically trying to undo the last belt clip. Understanding John's concern, Chris quickly reviewed the ship's status readouts and to his relief saw that they were in no immediate danger.
He placed a restraining hand on John's shoulder. The scientist looked up with a start. "It's okay John. The ship's not going to blow, we're safe; for now."
John stopped struggling, and drew a deep breath. "Sorry. That was my first crash landing."
Chris smiled, remembering back to an earlier mission a long time ago. "You never get used to them."
He then remembered that Doug and Ingo must also have crashed. He checked the scanner but it was off-line. He tried sending out his thoughts to Doug, but if he was still alive he was out of range.
"He could be anywhere on this continent," Chris thought aloud.
John looked up at this and then, realising Chris's meaning, returned to undoing his safety harness.
Chris then spoke into the intercom, "Status?"
Several seconds passed before the sergeant replied.
"We're all okay here. A little beat up but okay."
"Right. Get your shield generators and squad support weapons and establish a defensive perimeter around the shuttle," Chris ordered.
He unclipped his harness by which time John had managed to get out of his own.
"Let's check on the digger," said John.
The shuttle was tilted forwards at about forty degrees from the landing, and they had to be careful of their footing on the sloping floor. Arriving at the hatch without incident, they climbed down to passenger deck and from there to the airlock leading to the first skimmer bay.
Chris began to key in the code to open the hatch then remembered that the bay would be exposed to the outside atmosphere. "The air is supposed to be okay, but put your filter on just to be sure."
John did so as Chris put on his own and cycled open the airlock.
Stepping inside the skimmer bay, the boys found the air to be breathable, but smoke had begun to drift in from the fires outside, making this assessment difficult. They turned to survey the damage done to the mobile drill.
It was in pretty bad shape. The marines had managed to do a very good job of welding it into the hull. The force of the rocket had not dislodged the digger but had caused considerable structural damage to it, so much so that the doors to the driver's compartment were wedged tightly shut. They could see that Jansen and Roberts were both still alive, although they both looked shaken up.
Unable to make himself heard from inside, Roberts mouthed that they were both OK. John signalled for Jansen to open the payload doors. The tech nodded and began entering commands at his station. His eyes lit up as the engine roared into life.
Chris, his voice slightly muffled by his breathing filter, turned to John and grinned. "That's handy. Whatever hit us didn't take out the digger's engines. That probably means the G Skimmer is okay too."
"What about the shuttle?" John asked.
Chris shook his head. "It's trashed I'm afraid. Even if I hadn't used it as a plough, the shock of losing power during atmospheric re-entry blew both thruster tubes."
"So what are we going to do?" asked Jansen climbing out of the now open payload doors. At Chris's look Jansen added a belated "Sir."
"We are going to continue with the mission."
Chris detached a short metallic tube about the size of a pen from his utility belt and tossed it to Jansen.
"That's a welding laser. Get started on freeing the digger." He turned to John and held up the activation pass for the vehicle in the other bay. "Let's go check out the G Skimmer."
They soon found the gravity skimmer to be intact and fully functional. Chris was glad for this second piece of luck. "Good. We'll need to use the skimmer to unload the digger, since we lost the bay door on landing."
Then he paused as he received a transmission on his head set.
It was the marine sergeant, breathing a little hard after his exertion. "Sir, we've secured the area. I've got a man at each point at sixty degrees and two more including myself on the top of the shuttle."
"Good work sergeant. I'll be up in a minute to take a look," Chris replied.
"I'll check on the detector equipment and supervise the unloading of the digger." said John.
Chris nodded to John then opened the driver's door of the skimmer and got in. The engine gave a deep, satisfying hum as he switched it on. He cycled open the outer door and drove the skimmer outside.
"Sir! We've got six flyers approaching from the East," called the marine sergeant over the intercom.
So soon! Chris swore as he realised the poor defensive situation they were in.
"You've got to hold them off until we can the digger away," he replied. "Deploy your men to the east and engage as soon you can. We need to buy some time."
He manoeuvred the G-Skimmer until it was just touching the edge of the second skimmer bay, where the door had been blown away during the landing. He Reduced power to the rear repulsors and skimmer's tail dropped down and quickly touched the ground.
He signalled John on the intercom. "Get into the digger with the techs and get it moving. Use the skimmer as a ramp and as soon as you touch down, start digging."
"What about you and the marines?" asked John.
"I'll pick them up in the skimmer and try to get to some cover. But you've got to get away in the digger. Understand?"
"I've got it."
Through the front screen Chris saw John and the Tech scramble into the payload module and seal it shut. He keyed in a command to move turret on top of the skimmer out of the way so that the roof became a flat ramp for the digger. The tracked vehicle rumbled into life and lumbered over towards him.
If this doesn't work I'm in a lot of trouble.
Then the intercom came to life. "Sir, we've destroyed one of the flyers. The rest are holding back for now. Also, they look a lot like those robot fighters you encountered back at Earth." Reported the sergeant.
Chris considered this last statement as the digger's full weight was placed on the skimmer.
This planet obviously supported a girl base, possessing not only the ability to hide itself from the Comet's scanners but also the power to knock ships out the air at will. He pushed this thought aside as the engines protested at the unusual strain. If they cut out he would be squashed flat under the digger. In a moment the danger had passed and the digger was safely on the ground.
He adjusted the repulsors so he would not flip the skimmer over as the pressure was released. External microphones told him that the digging had started. He wished them luck and began to raise the skimmer up to the top of the shuttle.
As he reached this position he could see the battle before him. Grass fires, both from the landing and the current fight, had cut visibility significantly. The remaining marines, two had apparently been killed already, had fallen back to the shuttle, as much from the threat of the fires as from the enemy. Three fighters held their positions and exchanged shots, while a fourth had pulled away. Probably trying to flank them.
A fifth ship, larger than the rest, was hanging back beyond the range of the marines. As the sergeant had suggested, the four other ships looked like the robot fighters they had engaged back at Earth, perhaps modified for greater atmospheric performance. The fifth was a mystery, it was twice the size of the others, and looked as though it was specifically built for atmospheric flight. It had a structurally mounted weapon he could not identify built into its nose; pointing his way.
As if spurred into action by Chris's appearance, the fifth ship rapidly accelerated towards the shuttle. Chris set the skimmer to hover and tried to bring its cannon around to target the approaching ship. As if sensing added danger, the marines fired off the last of their laser guided missiles towards this new threat. These the enemy ship shrugged off with its shields and kept on approaching.
Unable to get a lock, Chris fired the skimmer's cannon and the blast went wide as the fifth ship drifted out of the way.
Then the gunship returned fired. The initial blast was so bright that for a second the Skimmer's polarised windscreen over compensated, preventing Chris from seeing what had happened. When it cleared he could see the marine sergeant sprawled out across the top of the shuttle. A second marine lay motionless nearby. Of the others there was no sign. No one was firing back as the five enemy ships now closed in on him.
Chris punched the accelerator and the skimmer sluggishly pulled away from the shuttle to the west. He worried that it must have been damaged in the blast, but soon it had increased to full speed. The forth robot fighter that had been attempting to flank the marines was now right behind him. Skimming low through the burning grass, he could barely see where he was going and relied on the sensors. The fires were much more extensive than he had first thought. They must have started from when the shuttle first landed. At least they might provide some cover, he hoped.
This seemed to be the case as he avoided the shots from the pursuing fighters. They maintained an altitude of twenty to thirty meters, while he was cutting the grass at less than five. Checking the radar he could see that the gunship was following behind the others, seemingly content to let them do the chasing.
Probably recharging that strange weapon, Chris decided. "Once it has I'm toast. What the hell is it?" He muttered.
Using his force powers, he fired back at his pursuers with the cannon, but it was impossible for him to do so accurately while driving. Despite this, his fire kept them at bay, and he knew that the longer he could stay ahead of them the better the chances were for John and the techs to get away.
Suddenly his scanner registered two more objects. Still a dozen kilometres away the objects were stationary, and not giving off any noticeable emission signatures.
It must be Doug and Ingo's fighters, Chris thought. He immediately sent out a thought probe for the C-Force Captain. Receiving no reply, Chris was certain Doug had to be somewhere between him and the crashed fighters. He considered avoiding that direction to increase their chances of evading detection, but there would be little chance of that now, plus they would soon be in danger from the fires.
He turned the skimmer to a new course towards the downed fighters. If the enemy fighters had spotted them they gave no indication of it, and simply changed their own heading to keep behind their target.
Fighting with the controls to avoid disintegration, Chris sensed the presence of his Captain.

Doug and Ingo stopped to scan ahead of them. The grass had proved to be shorter in the direction of the shuttle, it now only reached their waists, allowing them to see that something was happening over there.
Ingo squinted into the east where the second sun shone brightly in the afternoon. "Are they Birds?"
Doug adjusted his binoculars to the range. His eyes widened as he saw that Ingo's 'birds' were in fact girl fighters.
"Only in a manner of speaking." He handed the binoculars to Ingo.
"Shit, we've got to hide somewhere. They're probably coming for our fighters. They might pass over us if we can stay out of sight."
Doug was about to agree when he sensed a familiar presence.
"Don't worry." he said excitedly, "Help is coming."
"What help?" Ingo demanded.
"Get down below the grass line and wait," Doug said, a little distractedly.
He then fell silent for a moment, concentrating. Ingo knew what he must be doing, telepathy, and there was only one other person on the planet apart from the two of them who could manage that.
He decided to trust Doug's judgement and crouched down near the dark skinned C-Force agent.
The sound of laser fire made itself know to them, though Ingo suspected that they probably could have heard it earlier if they had not been moving through the grass. Then they could see through the tops of the grass stalks several fighters heading right towards them, firing at something the must have been skimming the top of the grass.
At the though of skimming Ingo knew that the must be chasing the shuttle's G-Skimmer. He braced himself for what he then knew would happen next.
Military versions of the G-Skimmer, as this one was, have special fittings in the passenger bay doors to take advantage of the inertial dampening field. Normally, trying to enter a skimmer going by at over two hundred kilometres an hour would be suicidal. This system, while not gentle, does allow such actions without any permanent damage usually being done.
The G-Skimmer shot past and the two boys were swept up into the passenger compartment. Both landed awkwardly but sprang to the battle stations as Chris closed the door and switched the cannon controls to the rear terminal.
"You guys OK?" he called.
Doug saluted quickly and Ingo shouted, "It's pay back time!"
Seeing that Ingo was intent on using the cannon, Doug removed a LGM pack from its compartment and began attaching it to a mini-turret fixture in the roof.
Turning his attention back to the controls, Chris saw on his scanner that the gunship was now moving up in formation with the other fighters.
He made a decision. "Those other ships are just keeping us from getting away until the big one is ready to fire again. Our only chance is to hit it before it's ready. Hold on."
Chris spun the wheel causing the skimmer to turn one hundred and eighty degrees then accelerated back towards his pursuers. Energy beams from the fighters rent the air around the skimmer, throwing up dirt and scorching grass as they went past. Chris knew that they had already benefited from more good fortune than they could expect but as he looked ahead at the fifth fighter, the gunship, he knew this was at an end. It was ready to fire.
Ingo fired his cannon and was rewarded with the sight of a deep gash in the enemy ship's hull. Doug launched an LGM that also hit. Given more time they could have crippled the larger ship, but time had run out.
The enemy gunship returned fire. Chris dived at the last instant and avoided a direct hit, but the ray seemed to bypass the shields and hit the skimmer at the rear compartment.
The controls stopped responding and an alarm warned of a system wide failure. Chris had enough time to consider that this seemed similar to what happened to the shuttle and then the skimmer scythed through the grass and slammed into the ground. Catching the top of a rise, the skimmer launched itself briefly back into the air, arced slowly onto its side and then crashed again into the earth, flipping and rolling before coming to a stop on its roof.
Adrenaline coursed through Chris's body as he fought not to black out. He looked back to see whether Doug and Ingo were safe. The two boys lay motionless sprawled across the deck at the rear of the skimmer.
"No!" He sprang out of his seat towards them.
As he did so he heard the sound of something clamping onto the outside of the skimmer.
Then a voice spoke, reverberating throughout the hull. "You in the skimmer. My orders require only one prisoner. Surrender now and I will spare your passengers. You have no other options."
The speaker used a girl's voice, but whether it was real or computer simulated was hard to tell through the hull of the skimmer.
Figuring he had a few seconds before the skimmer was boarded, he quickly used his life scanner on Doug and Ingo. To his relief, the scanner showed they were both alive and had only suffered superficial wounds. It also showed wild fluctuations in their bodies' electromagnetic fields, as though trying to re-establish themselves after being suppressed.
This had to be a side effect of the girl's new weapon. By now Chris was beginning to get an idea of how the thing worked.
A direct hit would have killed us all, like it did with the marines. Doug and Ingo will recover from this in a few hours, but will not be able fight until then. Not that fighting seems like much of an option anyway. Can I trust the girls not to kill them? They need only one prisoner; they are likely to go with the conscious one.
Maybe if they thought the boys were dead they would just be left behind. He searched through one of his belt compartments for several seconds before finding what he was after. A hype pack that contained a fast acting nerve suppressant drug. This drug was designed to be used in emergencies aboard ship to conserve life support by sending the subject into stasis. He decided that in their current condition a dose of this should hide their life signs sufficiently for them to appear to be dead. Provided the girls did not scan them too thoroughly.
He finished this just as the driver's door was blasted open. Chris shoved the spent hype pack behind some debris, then turned to see a large metallic arm entering the skimmer through the ruined door hatch. The arm pivoted his way and Chris could see that it carried a camera with a weapon mounted below it.
A scanning laser passed over him, sputtering around the outline of his shield.
From a speaker placed near the camera came a girl's voice. "You were warned about non-compliance," it paused then added, "Commander."
From the arm's weapon came a bright flash of piercing white light. Chris knew what to expect as the energy beam ignored his shield and hit him. He immediately lost consciousness, then fell hard onto the deck.

8. 'Panic'

Briefing room, UNHCV Comet
Orbit Hope II, Hope system
1410 hours GMT 2079-May-4

The briefing room aboard the Comet was filled to capacity, crowded with the usual bridge officers and department heads, as well as special forces agents insisting on their right to be heard. The atmosphere had been calmer initially, until the announcement that the Tachyon Burst, which was picked up earlier, had now been identified. It belonged to a former UNM Rapier class strike carrier, vessels only used now by the UGF. This information confirmed everyone's worst fears.
The bridge officers and the remainder of X-Force and C-Force sat or stood around the central desk, discussing their options. The chief science officer had given up his chair for Dr Wong, while Commander Millar, and Captain Bobby, C-Force's second in command, also had chairs.
The rest stood around the room adding randomly to the discussion, which was rapidly turning into a heated argument.
.".. I say we just send down a few nukes, that'll sort out whoever is down there." one of the officers was shouting.
"You'd kill our own men that way."
"They're most likely dead already."
"Whatever got the shuttle could just as easily disable the nukes."
"This bickering is pointless," quoted Jack.

Captain Peter Morris sat impassively, watching the interplay of his men and the Special Forces. They looked ready to kill each other and yet they were the only hope Earth had now. He stood and was pleased to see his officers giving him their immediate attention.
"Gentlemen," Morris began, "I know it's cramped in here and we're all caught up in a difficult situation. But try and remember we are all on the same side, and we have a vital mission to complete. Now, I've just received word that the last patrol has come back in with the results of the visual satellite scans. If I can have your attention I will go over their implications."
He turned and activated the presentation lectern, which he then keyed to respond from where he was standing.
"Now, these data are being sifted as we speak to try and find any obviously artificial structures or dubious natural features. One thing that has been spotted is a large fire in the middle of a vast grass plain, not far from the shuttle's projected landing site. There is no sign of the shuttle group other than this so it seems likely that at least one of the vessels crash landed, starting this fire."
Nathaniel studied his desk screen in detail, drawing out some extra data not included on the main screen. Steepling his fingers in front of his face he frowned slightly. "The resolution from these shots is too poor for us learn much more about the planet's surface. The point being that without our sensors we need precise visual data to find our shuttle group, or identify an enemy base."
Morris nodded, "The satellites our fighters have placed in orbit will be able to gather more information as they pass over this area again."
Millar accessed the satellites' orbit velocities and made a few calculations. He emitted a low grunt of disapproval. "That will only allow them two more passes before the terminator covers that position. Not enough to get the full story. I don't think we can afford to wait until morning for a clearer view."
"Then you suggest?" said Morris.
"We move into close orbit over the area containing the fire. The Comet's 'scopes will be able to process everything in that area in one pass, or if necessary use its engines to hold in a stationary orbit. It's the only chance we have to work out what's going on down there until that part of the planet faces the sun again."
"I object," began the executive officer. "We are in a vulnerable position where we are now, but if we move the Comet that close to the planet we would be unable respond to an attack coming up from the surface. We have to stay here and rely on our satellites for the data." Bobby cleared his throat and spoke for the first time in this discussion. "If what happened to the shuttle group and is blocking our sensors is not a natural phenomenon, which I think very unlikely, then we can not afford to wait. Whatever the situation is down on the surface, chances are it will be worse by morning. It is vital we retrieve that sensor equipment and rescue our men. And remember there is a Girl Carrier out there somewhere."
Captain Morris' gaze passed from the acting C-Force commander to the others in the room and saw that is was time to make a decision. Looking again at Bobby, he exhaled slowly. "Reluctantly, I agree. If we were simply one part of a fleet in time of war then our ship's safety would outweigh the other concerns. But this mission is for all or nothing. If we can't establish where the moon has gone and get there before the UGF, then we might as well have been destroyed back at Earth. We will move into close orbit."
Morris paused and saw that there would be no disagreement, as he had expected.
"Bridge crew to your stations. Science division, work on breaking though this sensor shield. I have an idea I want to check on. And you Special Forces boys keep yourselves ready and out of trouble. Dismissed."
He accepted a room full of salutes and then strode purposefully towards his own quarters. The rest of the boys soon filed out of the briefing room, emptying it save for the holographic projection of the Comet, the deceptively peaceful looking planet, and a projection of a Rapier class carrier.

Peter's quarters were a modest affair compared with many fleet Captain's staterooms. During the Comet's numerous refits the original stateroom had been transformed into what was now the executive briefing room. Peter had captained the carrier for over two decades, technological change had brought much advancement and new discoveries had been rapid in the early days, prompting many refits on the HCV.
Deemed to be crucial for the ship's continued superiority as a weapon of war, but no less risky for that, such modifications had transformed and moulded the Comet into the ship it was today, and he knew everything there was to know about it.
Peter had chosen these quarters because they had been part of the original deck plan and were now offset from both the briefing room and the bridge. This allowed him convenient access to both areas, and enough floor space for an office, sleeping bay and private chambers. Leaving the others to their appointed tasks, he allowed himself to relax and strolled into the lounge.
He unbuttoned his jacket and tossed his hat towards a stand in the corner then sank into a luxurious leather couch. He did not bother to notice the hat land wide of the mark, only to be picked up by the stand's outstretched arms and placed neatly on the top peg. Morris activated the data terminal set into his couch's arm, then stretched over to the other arm and ordered, "Beer." A glass of cool lager was provided for him and he sat back, grateful for the comforts of home in troubled times like these.
Leaning his head back to be within the range of the seat's dermatrodes, he began accessing highly classified files dealing with the ship's Tachyon drive. The system projected information through the dermatrodes straight into his optical cortex, and his eyes lost their focus as he concentrated on reading what only he could see.
His right index finger flicked through the empty air as he turned the pages. He had heard of more advanced devices in development that could allow entire manuals to be read in a glance, instant knowledge. According to the scientists, the only limits to the technology where the physiological ones of the human brain.
Peter contented himself to read this in the more conventional manner and soon found the appendix he was looking for.

APPENDIX 27: Small Scale Tachyon Conversion
Fields and Tachyon Conversion Resonance.
Prof. W. Staling.

One of the earliest problems confronting the use of tachyon conversion fields for interstellar transport was caused by tachyon resonance. Resonance is the term used to describe the observable aftershock of tachyon conversion within the largely chaotic wave patterns of native particles in tach space (See Appendix 4 for more detail on Resonance).

When the earliest TCFGs were used to send conventional ships into tach, the ship would return of its own accord to its departure position within a time period that was found to be dependent upon the ship's mass, its velocity, and the strength of the TCF. Obviously, the inability to sustain a ship's presence in another star system for more than a few hours or possibly days would make exploration and colonisation hazardous and difficult, if not impossible.

It was this phenomenon that led scientists to discover that objects affected by TCFGs were not simply transported but became intrinsically linked to the spatial positions of the TCFG in both tachyonic and tardyonic universes. It was this discovery that led to the realisation that the only way to produce a permanent transfer was to subject the TCFG itself to the TCF. This in turn meant that interstellar vessels would have to be equipped with such artefacts, which would effectively limit such installations to only the largest ships in our currently commissioned fleet.

In the haste to retro fit our carriers with these devices, the above mentioned side effects have largely been forgotten. However, further speculation has raised the following possibilities; (Note: strategic dangers with all of the below uses of this technology are caused by Tachyon Burst Emissions that can be readily identified by an enemy at great distances.)

(1) The transportation of bombs or other weapons into an enemy vessel. Such transportation would easily bypass all known shields and defences systems. The only limitations would be the inability to target internal systems due to an enemy's ECM sensor jamming, and the possibility of an UXB or debris returning to the launch point with potentially fatal results. Work has begun on a Tachyon Shield to prevent such weapons being used against the UNM.

(2) To send probes into regions were a full presence is not required. This is effectively what was done with our early research using conventional vessels.

(3) As a teleportation device for ship's personnel. Religious issues such as ensoulment do not arise here, as the effects are essentially the same as those involved in a normal tachyon conversion. That said, no successful transfer of human subjects has been achieved as yet.

Peter highlighted option three and attached this document to a priority email in order to forward it to Dr Wong, then copied this to Commander Millar and Captain Bobby. Keying open a verbal attachment to the email he dictated,
"Doctor, please examine the possibilities raised in this document. If feasible, we could teleport a strike team down to the surface, once we have identified a target from the visual scans. This strike team would consist of volunteers from X-Force and C-Force. I can add an additional marine detachment if necessary. Please reply with an assessment of the risk and time frame involved ASAP. Thank you,"
The mail system added his signature.
Peter Morris,
Fleet Captain, UNHCV Comet.

Having sent the mail, Morris remembered his beer and took a long drink from it. He then began working his way through a large batch of routine email reports, while speculating on what was happening down on the planet below.

Some considerable time passed before his email system informed him that he had received a reply to his message.

From: Dr Nathaniel Alexander Wong
cc: Comdr. Millar Cpt. Bobby
Re: Teleportation Device

Captain,
I've reviewed the documentation regarding the possible uses of the Tach Conversion Field Generator for spatial displacement, a teleportation device if you will. After running some preliminary experiments here I have concluded that, while possible, the risks associated with the process are too high for us to consider using it in the short to medium term. Only in a truly desperate situation would I consider using this process as it currently stands on live subjects.

Soon a second message arrived.

From: Comdr. Millar, Cpt. Jack, Lt. Mono, Cpt. Bilby, Lt. Maire
Re: Teleportation Device
CC: C-Force

Captain,
We understand the risks if this device fails. However, If the situation warrants you can rely on X-Force to lead the strike team down onto the planet's surface.

Morris smiled as a third email arrived, this one from C-Force. The text could have been copied word for word from the X-Force mail. He noted that as different as the two teams were, in some ways they were exactly alike.

Rapid Reaction Room 3, Launch bay 7,
UNHCV Comet
Hope II Orbit, Hope system
1440 hours GMT 2079-May-4

In C-Force's makeshift quarters, the mood was sombre. Although the room contained plenty of spare bunks, having been designed to accommodate a squadron, the boys' eyes kept gravitating back to the two left vacant by their missing comrades. Kain and Maher sat playing cards at the central table.
Maher was winning but neither boy was showing much interest the game. Boyd pored over some files he had gathered on the Comet's sensor readings, or lack thereof, from the planet's surface.
Bobby examined the flight logs from his fighter that covered the disappearance of the shuttle containing his commander. He had been over the section he was currently reviewing five times already, without gaining any new insights.
"This isn't getting me anywhere."
Many years ago, when he was first starting in the Special Forces, he had assumed that eventually he would rise to command his own force unit. Decades of service in C-Force had tempered this desire, honed it until it had become his central ambition. Yet he had always put his duty to Earth and the UNSF before this, until now.
On several occasions he had performed well as acting commander. The present circumstances compelled him to face the possibility of taking permanent command of C-Force, if Chris could not be rescued. Wartime protocol would allow an immediate promotion to the rank of UNSF Ltd Commander.
If the Comet could complete its mission and recover the moon, promotion to full commander would be a certainty. However, even given all these prospects, he felt uneasy at being confronted with this situation now.
Chief among a number of reasons for this was his concern for Chris, and Doug. The current members of C-Force had been together for many years. The loss of two of them in one day including the commander was a complete shock, particularly given the circumstances.
We have all got into and out of a lot tougher situations than landing a shuttle on an unexplored planet, with an entire carrier giving support.
He had not always got along with Chris, the commander has a style all his own, but so many years together had created a strong bond between them. Bobby knew these were all reasonable explanations for his anxiety, but he sensed there was more.
There is another thing, deep below the others, I'm afraid. After all these years, I don't want to do it. I don't want command. This is a war, not just poking around spying on UGF bases on Earth. When push comes to shove, and it's bound to, I'll be giving orders not only to C-Force but many of the Comet's pilots as well.
Bobby tried to push these worries from his mind and went back to studying the sensor logs.

Science Lab 1 (Tachyon Room), UNHCV Comet
Hope II Orbit, Hope system
1425 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Nathaniel looked up from his station in the tachyon room and acknowledged the arrival of Dr Bakker. The boy had shown a keen interest and a great aptitude for Tachyon theory, and would be needed around the lab now that John O'Brien had so unfortunately disappeared on the planet below.
That was not the only mystery of the planet as far as he was concerned. While acknowledging that this was amongst the first of any extra-solar planets discovered by boys, he could not shake the idea that this place was special. Even unique. The planet was perfect for colonisation. Was it too perfect? Just having a breathable atmosphere was one thing, supporting actual life forms was another, but surely it was more than freakish good luck that this planet was so hospitable to humans.
Now, the planet could have been terraformed. That was technologically possible. But none of the scans he had seen indicated any of the tell tale signs of this process. At least none that may have been performed recently. So, given that the planet's current state was not arrived at naturally, how did it come to be like this? And more importantly, who made it that way and why?
These were problems he thought could wait, for now. Another problem had him just as intrigued. He was still reviewing the medical reports of those crewmen who had been comatose after the ship resumed tard at Earth.
Clearly, the effects were some kind of reaction to the tachyisation process, and he thought he had adjusted the drives to account for it. But although no one fell into a coma upon resuming tard in the Hope system, there were still reports of discomfort among the crew. Head aches, stomach pains, and even some psychological symptoms where reported from the ship's counsellor and the Priest. Could travelling in Tach Space cause mental problems in humans? I feel fine. He smiled briefly, knowing he would need much more time to get to the bottom of this.
Nathaniel looked at his fingers hovering over the databoard, awaiting his input, and realised then that all this speculation was not helping with the task set by the Captain; penetrating the atmospheric interdiction of Hope II. He reopened the file with the results from earlier analyses. He was beginning to think that defeating the technology that was blocking their sensor scans of the planet was a mystery that was beyond even his ability to solve, without better facilities.
Just then his console chimed to indicate the arrival of a new email. This particular chime also signified that the email was from a high-ranking officer. The only kind that Nathaniel would consider interrupting his work for.
He let out a heaving sigh as he read Captain Morris' message. The man had out-thought him on this one, but he was obviously more reckless than Nathaniel had ever considered.
"What is it?" Bakker asked.
"It is the Captain. I think he wants us to invent a new electric chair." He ignored the quizzical expression on the face of his companion as he began to open the relevant files for exploring the Captain's idea.

9. "Interrogation"

Governor's Interview Room, Girl Base
Hope II, Hope system
1450 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Retching from the shock his body had endured, Chris regained consciousness for the second time since his arrival on this planet. Quickly gathering his senses, he realised that he had been stripped of all his equipment, even his uniform. He now wore a simple white jump suit of fine linen.
He also found that he was strapped securely onto what looked like a medical pallet, so securely that he could not move.
A voice spoke out of the distance, "Do not struggle, you have been immobilised for your own safety. I have been briefed on how resourceful you Special Forces agents can be, and I don't want to have to kill you during some vain attempt to escape."
Straining to lift his head, Chris turned towards the speaker. She stood just a few feet away, and wore the uniform of a UGF colonel, but he had trouble making out her features. She was just over five feet tall, slim, and had sandy blonde hair in a short bob. As his vision adjusted she moved closer and Chris saw her eyes. They were the coolest blue he had ever seen, and radiated authority and control. He knew immediately that she was very dangerous.
"Who are you?" he gasped, surprised by the weakness of his voice.
"My name is Dale, I am Governor and ranking UGF officer on this planet. And you are Chris, commander of the UNSF unit C Force, an outlaw terrorist group." the girl replied.
Gaining more control as he recovered, Chris hid his surprise at being identified so easily. Then for the first time he noticed the extent of his immobility.
"Why can't I move?" Chris asked, his voice slightly stronger.
"As I said, I don't want you to think you can escape. Therefore I have administered a drug which has paralysed you from the neck down. Its effects are reversible, and if you co-operate I will supply the antidote in good time."
Dale paused to let this information sink in.
Struggling with effort, Chris managed to lift his head and take in his surroundings. He was in a large circular room. Light coming from over his shoulder implied a window behind him, and that it was still afternoon. In the centre of the room was the entrance to a lift shaft. The room was laid out like a private office, and he guessed this was the private work chamber of his captor.
His eyes focused on a table several meters in front of his medi-palet. The table was covered with weapons, equipment, and his uniform. Quickly he realised that the table contained not only his own gear but the weapons carried by Doug and Ingo as well.
Noticing his interest, Dale walked back over to the table and picked out a stun-blaster. "Fascinating weapon this. Your other equipment is also full of conversation pieces. As you may have guessed, I take a great interest in your UN Special Forces. It is a hobby of mine."
She placed the weapon back in its holster and turned towards Chris with a smile that did not reach her eyes.
"Now that we've been properly introduced, let us proceed with the interview."
"You call this an interview, this procedure contravenes the convention of 2044."
Dale pressed together in annoyance. "I assure you commander, your treatment is well within the paradigms of the '44 convention, as interpreted by the UGF. I also assure you, that as Governor of this world I have complete autonomy. No one can constrain me from ignoring the convention should I so chose."
Chris decided to try a different tack. "I guess I can't argue with that. I want to know what has happened to my men."
Dale's eyebrow twitched. "I'm asking the questions here commander. However, as a gesture of good will between us, between victor and vanquished, I will tell you of your men. They are all dead. Their bodies have been brought here for internment."
Chris gasped but pressed further and asked, "All?"
Dale rewarded his persistence with a glare. Then she relented. "Yes, the eight marines guarding the shuttle, the two pilots killed during your capture. And whatever pathetic fools were trying to dig their way to escape."
Chris was almost overwhelmed by this answer. He had been trying to ferret out from Dale whether his ruse with Doug and Ingo had been successful. Her reply implied that this was the case, but her use of the term 'internment' was ominous.
What he had not expected was the news about the digger. He was sure that after he had led the fighters away from the downed shuttle that John would have been able to get away. His death would mean the loss of the tachyon resonance equipment. If Dale were telling the truth then how would the Comet be able to find the moon?
He put this aside for the moment and sent his thoughts outward, searching for Doug. He felt no sense of his presence at all. He needed more information.
"What do you mean by 'internment'?"
Dale seemed a little surprised at this question, but answered swiftly. "We are not barbarians. We don't simply leave the dead to rot on the field, even boys. Once the vicar has administered the last rights they will be cremated and buried on the base."
Chris forced himself to hide his dismay at this, knowing that Doug and Ingo might have minutes to live or might even be dead already. He could tell Dale they were still alive, and she would probably save them, but if they revived soon, they might be able to escape. He continued seeking Doug with his thoughts, and managed to contrive an expression which simply betrayed remorse.
Seeing Chris's reaction Dale added, "You must forget them now commander, your concerns lie with the living."
Trying to appear as though he was doing so Chris replied, "Do you expect me to talk?"
"No commander. I don't need any information from you." She paused to let this sink in and then added, "Oh yes, eventually I'll be asking you for your personal code, and other information regarding your Special Forces activities. But I really can't be bothered going into all that now. Disabled though you are, I'm sure you will take some time to break. I thought that perhaps by making you aware of the hopelessness of your situation I might persuade you to see reason."
She moved a step closer to him and added in a mock conspiratorial tone, "I must confess to an ulterior motive as well. You are the first boy I have seen face to face in a number of years. Your kind is the cause of all the evil that afflicts our planet. I want to see the look on your face when you see your hopes disappear."
She smiled then and closed her eyes as if in some silent prayer. When she opened them again Chris saw another quality in them, triumph and behind that, madness. Or maybe it was something other than madness, as if an alien presence rested in this girl's heart. Intrigued, he began trying to perceive her thoughts. It will give me something to do.
Oblivious to this Dale continued, "During your 'landing', the UGFS Barbarella resumed tard in this system. She is a Rapier class strike carrier and has been augmented to carry three hundred robot fighters. She will be within striking distance of the Comet in two hours."
"That is supposed to shake me up is it?" Chris felt some of his confidence returning. "I'd back our boys against your robot fighters any day. And the Comet can go toe to toe against a Rapier class carrier and win."
His captor tisked and gave a slight shake of her head. "You make too many assumptions commander. Who says the Comet will be in any condition to meet the Barbarella when she gets here? You may recall the weapon used in your capture. The technology behind this is called an Ion Cannon. You will have heard of such weapons in theory."
Ion Cannons, I should have guessed. Chris nodded slightly and answered, "It disrupts electrical activity in the target."
Dale continued, "That is correct commander. A simple layman's description but accurate. It also has the handy attribute of being unaffected by standard shielding technology. This weapon was used to stun you earlier, and to bring down your skimmer. At a higher setting it killed your eight marines. A related technology blocks sensors through the ionosphere and allowed us to shoot down you and your escorts with the full sized ion cannon."
Chris did not need his ESP to tell him that she was leading up to something very unpleasant. Dale turned and activated a holo-projector. A scene opened before him containing the Comet now in close orbit of the planet.
"Your carrier has moved much closer to us in the last few hours, probably trying to find you on their visual scanners, having found their sensors to be useless. We could have reached her before, but this change of orbit has put her well within optimal range of the full power of the ion cannon."
Dale opened two more holo-windows, pointing them out she said, "Here you see the cannon emplacement. Impressive is it not? And here is my link with fire control."
Speaking to one of the officers within the fire control window she asked, "Sharon, do you have the boy's carrier locked into the targeting computer?"
The girl called Sharon stood to attention and looked out at him from the holo-window. From her expression it was apparent she could not actually see him or Dale. She spoke crisply, a professional who had pride in her work. "We do colonel. The cannon is fully charged and we await your orders to fire."
Dale responded, "Target engines and fighter bays captain. Fire when ready." She turned back to Chris.
Chris had been struggling to hold his head up high enough to see what was happening in the windows. After Dale's last order he tried to force his body to move. Sweat broke out from his forehead and his vision blurred, but it was a futile effort. He could not move or do anything to help his friends on the carrier. He knew that with their sensors jammed, they would have no hope of evading the ion cannon blast.
Eventually he stopped trying to free himself and stared into the holo-windows as he heard Sharon give to the order to fire.
A blast of energy was thrown skyward from the muzzle of the cannon. Chris barely had time to look from this window to the one containing the Comet before the energy shell collided with the rear of the ship, covering the engines and washing over the fighter bays. These areas came alive with sparks and jolts of electricity and the ship began to lose orbital integrity.
Speaking out of the third holo-window, Sharon reported, "Direct hit colonel. The target was using ID engines to hold itself in orbit. At the present rate of orbital degradation she will enter the atmosphere in ninety seven minutes." She paused to receive some more input from an underling then added, "We estimate the carrier will recover engine use within this time, but a further blast will finish her off. We are recharging the cannon now."
"Good work captain," Dale said, "Keep me informed." The captain saluted into the monitor and returned to her post.
Chris focused on the window containing the Comet, trying to assess the extent of the damage, but could not find anything that would contradict the girl captain's findings. For one of the very few times in his life, he felt completely helpless.
His head dropped back on to the medi-table as he absorbed the depth of the disaster. Before the ion cannon blast, the Comet would have been able to deal with the UGF carrier, now it would be at an extreme disadvantage. There was no telling how many fighters it would be able to launch, and another blast from the ion cannon would settle the issue in the girls' favour.
In his desolation, he did not hide any of these thoughts from his expression. Dale read them all on his face, and seemed to feed on his distress.
"So you see I was right after all commander. Now, since we have some time, let us turn to the question of your personal codes."
As the girl moved closer, blocking his view of the holo-windows, Chris let out a tortured groan of despair.

Technical Addendum

Unlike the smaller stubby versions mounted on fighters, which are capable of projecting a shield that completely surrounds the craft, stretching out in all directions from the Comet are its shield masts. Strung between the masts are the shield lines, not unlike sails on a seafaring vessel. Were they visible to the naked eye, these would appear to cover the ship in a spider web like pattern of glistening threads. Though apparently fragile, the overlapping fields of force generated from the lines provide a powerful shield against incoming matter or energy. This system is the primary defence of any large warship. When angled correctly the shields are capable of deflecting powerful bombardments, requiring ships to manoeuvre and counter manoeuvre in such a way as to allows their weapons to achieve the optimum effect. The generators themselves are susceptible to damage at close range, hence the development of small fighter craft to attack and defend them. Various settings are used to conserve power, cruising shields for regular travel, light shields when approaching a space dock, heavy shields for various dangerous space conditions, and battle shields for combat. Shields can also be aligned to take advantage of the solar wind to provide added thrust to the vessel. Due to a vessel's complete dependence on shields for defence, they are linked directly to the ship's sensors so they can respond immediately to any danger, without need for direction from captain or crew who might not be able to carry out an order fast enough.

10. 'Trouble'

Still in his quarters, Captain Morris had begun to make some progress into the mass of reports he was reviewing when he was hailed from the bridge. Ensign Moore's voice sounded calm and relaxed over the speaker. "Captain, the Comet has reached close orbit of the planet and is now holding in a geosynchronous orbit over the area identified by the satellite scans."
Morris checked the time on his watch and nodded to himself. The journey had taken about as long as he had expected. He stood. "Good. I'll be on the bridge presently. Inform the Special Forces' leaders and suggest they meet me there as soon as possible."
Striding over to the stand, he retrieved his hat and refastened the buttons on his jacket, mentally preparing himself for the job ahead. He examined himself in the mirror to ensure that everything was in place and unconsciously loosened his pistol in its holster. Satisfied he was ready; he strode quickly to the door, passed through and travelled the short distance to the bridge.
When he arrived he found Commander Millar and Captain Matchet already waiting for him. They stood patiently at the base of the command dais, an indication of some appreciation of ship's protocol. He idly wondered whether they had calculated the exact time before orbit would be achieved, as he had, or had they already been informed by one of his bridge crew. He put the question aside and walked up to the command dais, giving a nod to his executive officer. The boy stepped down, allowing the two Special Forces agents to join him as he climbed the three steps to take command.

"Battle shields!" Yelled the chief defensive officer.
Before anyone could react a bolt of energy streaked though the Comet's shields and engulfed the ship's propulsion centres.
The CDO screamed in alarm. "It's gone straight through the shields!"
There was a shudder as the inertial dampers destabilised and then the artificial gravity began to fail. Installed much earlier in the Comet's life, redundant warning klaxons for a dozen different emergencies blared out simultaneously.
My ship!
Grabbing hold of the waist high railing around the command dais Captain Morris tried to steady himself. In what he hoped was a calm voice, he called out over the din, "Give me a Damage report."
A startled ensign replied, "Sir, I'm getting reports of massive power drains from all over the rear of the ship. These are causing system failures in the effected areas. I'm not receiving anything at all from the propulsion centres. ID is down, propulsion is down, and we have lost orbital integrity. No hull breaches, no reported casualties."
Having already been lifted partially off the deck due to the lighter gravity, Millar sprang over the railing, propelling himself towards the damage control centre.
"Realign all power away from the effected areas." He ordered.
The ensign looked up at Morris and replied, "Sir, I can't tell how much that will strain the other power channels, we'll risk overloading them."
Millar turned abruptly towards the captain and shouted, "Damn it there's no time to explain, we've only got seconds here!"
Morris appreciated the loyalty shown by his ensign, but he also reflected that the boy was refusing an order from a superior. Not knowing what Millar was thinking he still nodded his approval. "Shut off those damn klaxons while you're at it ensign."
Millar turned a dark stare on the ensign and the boy quickly obeyed. The bridge was plunged back into relative silence. Presently the ensign reported. "All power re-routed, but what good is that going to do?"
"Emissions?" Bobby said speculatively.
"That's right Captain," Millar replied. "Whoever fired that blast at us will be passive scanning our emissions to tell how bad we are hurt. By re-routing the power, the propulsion centres and the other effected areas will look a lot worse off than they really are. We'll be able to recover before they expect and that will give us an edge."
"You know more than you are saying commander." Morris' eyes flashed and his hand unconsciously strayed down towards his pistol. "Out with it."
Millar eyed the captain's pistol for a second. "I'm pretty sure we have just been hit by an Ion Cannon blast. They are immune to shields and play havoc with electrical activity in anything they hit. I have studied them in theory, but the technology is still supposed to be decades away. I should have guessed that anyone with the technology for the ionospheric interdiction that is blocking our scans could also have produced such a weapon. The good news is that the effects are temporary, provided you are not killed outright in the initial blast."
The CDO spoke cautiously. "He may be right sir, power systems are coming back on-line, slowly. At this rate we should have propulsion in forty minutes, well before our orbital decay becomes critical."
"What is our orbit time?" Morris asked.
The Navigation officer must have anticipated the question for he answered without delay in a confident voice. "Thirty two minutes captain."
Morris considered this. "CDO, our shields might not have effected the blast, but it may have effected them. See if you can use this to trace the trajectory of the blast back to its source, then overlay that with the surface scans we acquired before the attack." As he finished this statement Morris directed the output from the defence station to his console.
Several minutes passed and Millar used the time to climb back up onto the command dais. He watched as an image of the planet's surface began to resolve itself and was then magnified. Soon the CDO had managed to reduce the selected region to an area of twenty-five square kilometres. This area was part of that covered by some very large clouds. A little more processing proved that this particular section of cloud could in fact be artificial in nature.
Morris smiled in satisfaction. "That's our target then. Somewhere under that cloud." He turned to Millar and Bobby. "Prepare your forces for a ground assault."
"But Captain, how are we going to get past the ionospheric interdiction?" Bobby asked.
"Teleportation, right?" Millar answered for him.
Morris nodded, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Dr Wong. He turned to the screen displaying the scientist in the Tachyon Room. "Dr Wong, I know what you said about the danger of using the Tachyon converter as a teleporter, but I think you'll agree that the situation has become desperate. How long will it take you to make it work?" He leaned a little closer to the screen before adding, "You have one hour."
The scientist stared blankly at the captain for several seconds. Peter considered that this was the first time he had ever seen the scientist look uncertain.
The moment passed and Wong regained his composure. He coughed once. "I can have something up and running in an hour, but I can't guarantee it will last for more than thirty minutes."
In a much quieter voice he muttered, "And I can not guarantee that there will not be any side effects."
"That will have to be enough," Morris answered.
Millar grinned. "We can do a lot of damage in thirty minutes."
"We have to try and rescue Chris and Doug," Bobby added, looking to Morris for support.
"And Ingo, if we have time," Millar agreed.
"Your primary mission objective is to destroy whatever sent out that Ion burst, and anything else you encounter that you deem a threat to the Comet. You have permission granted to rescue anyone you find down there, but that is a secondary objective, understood?" Morris said.
"Yes sir." The boys answered. Sensing that there was no more to discuss the pair saluted and left the bridge, heading for the launch bay. A second later Nathan Wong's worried looking face disappeared from Morris' Comm screen.

Managing to recover from the shock of the attack on the Comet, Terry Patterson had observed the entire exchange on the command dais with growing alarm. Having waited patiently at the bottom of the dais, he now watched until the two Special Forces agents enter a lift car and left the bridge. The executive officer now swiftly climbed the three stairs and approached his captain.
"Sir, don't you think you are taking an extreme risk relying on those Special Forces guys. You heard navigation, we will have propulsion in less than an hour, we could pull out and get beyond the range of this, ion cannon, if that is what it really is."
Captain Morris shrugged. "I understand the risk, but Millar is right, they won't expect us to be able to move, and they certainly won't expect any kind of ground attack. Wong will have a hard enough time getting the teleporter ready to function at our current distance from the planet, any further and it won't work."
Patterson nodded thoughtfully before his captain continued. "That gives us two advantages, along with the only boys crazy enough to try it out. And what do we gain if we do pull out? We still have a warship to face, and we will never get a better chance to attack the ground base. We have to defeat both to give us time to plot the moon's course so we know where to go next."
Patterson could see that Captain Morris had made up his mind. Although it was his job to point out alternatives, he could not find a weakness in the Captain's argument. He responded with a salute and went back to his station.

Morris turned back to his terminal and activated a holo channel to another bridge station. The screen came to life to reveal a boy who wore the insignia of the Flight Group Commander.
"What is the status of our flight wings Cameron?"
Colonel Cameron Johns straightened in his chair and glanced down at his datapad. A brief narrowing of his eyes told Morris that there had been an update just as he had asked the boy for his report. Morris had known Johns for nearly three decades, from his time as squadron commander all the way up to his current position as FGC, and considered the boy's abilities vital to the successful running of the ship.
The other boy considered the change in data for a few seconds then began, "Well sir the good news is that practically all of our fighter modules are available again. The bad news is Launch Decks 2 and 3 are still out, but should be able to launch fighters within ninety minutes." He tapped on his datapad for a few seconds before continuing. "At the moment we can get all our fighters out via Launch Deck 1, and the loaders are standing by to shuffle modules from 2 and 3 as necessary."
Morris contemplated the implications of this. The three huge launch decks carried by the Comet were constructed with multiple redundancy in mind. In fact their original design was as primary launch facilities for single deck carriers. Where all three decks connected to the Comet proper could be considered to be the core of the ship. FLI modules and their configuration bracers could be shuffled from one deck to another via a sophisticated series of repulsor lifts and back up mechanical conveyer belt systems. Various weapon and ship components where also stored here in a non volatile form, though each individual deck contained its own smaller version of these facilities. The ship could operate effectively with only one Launch Deck, but it would lower the rate at which squadrons could be assembled and launched.
Morris grimaced. Like a boxing match, if he was going to get up off the canvas sooner than his opponent expected he had better be able to throw punches with both fists. Still, there was every chance that the other decks would be back online before he made his move.
What ever that move was going to be.
His grimace turned into a smile and he nodded into the holo-window. "Thanks Cam, let me know as soon as the other decks are available. Keep their FLI modules where they are for now."
Johns nodded. "Yes sir." And closed the connection.

11. 'Alive'

Cemetery, Girl Base
Hope II, Hope system
1500 hours GMT 2079-May-4

The burial chamber, or crematorium, was situated deep within the sub-levels of the girl base. The metallic infrastructure of the moderately sized room was covered with a thin layer of white marble. The walls were lined with small compartments for the storage of the ashes of those interned here. The floor too was covered in white marble except for its centre, which was dominated by a large conveyer belt, leading to an incinerator. This device was capable of reducing a body to a fine powder, to be funnelled into steel canisters before being sealed into the wall compartments.
Very few of the compartments had occupants.
The whole process, like nearly every other on the base, could be performed automatically under computer guidance. On this occasion a solitary priestess presided over the ten caskets placed in a line on the conveyer belt.
Reading from an old book on the lectern before her, she wondered as to the fate of the souls of these boys, the enemy. Her face was impassive as she activated the incinerator and the conveyer belt that lead to it. Unblinking, she watched the synthetic coffins as they began to cover the short distance. Constructed of a lightweight material designed to burn easily and consume the body inside, she knew that they would do so without her presence.
She finished her prayers, closed the book, and stepped down from the lectern. Walking past the empty seats, which on another occasion might be filled with mourners, she paused at the room's single doorway to make one more sign of the cross, then left.
Just as the first coffin entered the incinerator.

Ingo recovered from what seemed to be a bad dream into what was a waking nightmare. He was trapped inside a translucent box and he could feel what was rapidly becoming unbearable heat coming from one end of the box near his feet. Responding in the only way that seemed reasonable, he began yelling as loud as he could and smashed at the sides of the box with his fists and feet. The box was not particularly strong and gave way to his blows a few centimetres but although stretched, it did not break.
His hands went to his waist and he could feel that his gun belt had been removed. He tried to stretch down further to the small pistol he kept tucked into his boot, but the box was too confined. He could not get his hand down far enough or his leg up high enough to reach the weapon.
In another few seconds he was pulling his feet as far up as he possibly could, away from the end of the box that was rapidly melting. Fumes from the disintegrating walls stung his eyes and the thought that his feet would be next made him nearly gag.
He screamed desperately. "Somebody get me the fuck out of here!"
Then it was over.
Struck suddenly by a bright light he blinked away tears as he felt himself being lifted up. For a brief second he wondered if he had made it to heaven, a fate he had rarely considered a possibility.
Then he realised that he was being lifted out of the box by reassuringly human hands.
A familiar voice spoke. "Shut the hell up will you. You'll bring the whole base down on us."
Ingo looked up to see Doug grinning at him and realised that he had indeed still been yelling. He pushed Doug aside and sprang out of the box and off the conveyer belt, onto the smooth floor.
He spent a moment taking in his surroundings before reaching down to his still warm boots to find that the pistol he had tried to retrieve earlier was gone.
"Shit. What the hell is going on?"
Doug shrugged. "Kind of looks like our funeral."
The C-Force captain had moved away from the conveyer belt and was now examining the control lectern. He reactivated the incinerator.
"Looks like this thing has been programmed for a funeral for ten. Only question is, who were in the other eight coffins?"
As Doug finished speaking, Ingo noticed the inscriptions on the wall across from him. He walked over to them to get a better look.
He read out, "Michelle Wilson, corporal, UGF regular navy. Died 21/04/2078. These are ten centimetre square tombstones."
As he said this a new inscription appeared on the wall to his right. He moved two paces towards it and read, "David Sheedy, sergeant, UNM Marines. He died today."
Looking to the left from this inscription he could see those of seven more marines who had died today. He noted that the girls seemed to have arranged the bodies by rank.
"It's a good thing we're officers, or we would never have made it out in time," he remarked. "Which reminds me, how did you get out in time?"
"I received a TP call from Chris. I'm not sure how it was possible, I have not been able to reply to him. He must be out of range. Anyway it was enough to wake me up. I pretty much started trying to bust my way out like you did. I quickly realised that that would not work. Luckily I had time to TK the lock open. You were already yelling your head off by then so I knew you were still alive. Then I managed to deactivated the incinerator."
"Yeah, thanks. I owe you one for that."
"No worries."
"What do we do now then?"
"Inventory."
Ingo grunted an acknowledgement and began working off his boot. Doug pulled a patch off his shoulder to reveal a compartment beneath. Although stripped of all their obvious equipment, both boys carried a variety of concealed items that they would now have to rely on. The tiny components were hidden in many different places on their uniforms. They were not only hidden from sight but were designed specifically to evade scanning detection.
Within minutes the boys had constructed weapons and other devices from the components.
Having accessed a timer, Ingo tried to calculate what had happened and how much time had passed.
"When our skimmer got hit Commander Chris must have survived and somehow got the girls to believe we were dead. A good trick though it nearly got us incinerated. They brought us here along with the marines who really are dead. It has been seventy-six minutes since we lost consciousness. Not long enough for us to have been taken too far away."
Doug gestured around him. "I've never seen a mausoleum like this on a spaceship, so we must be in a UGF ground base. Thanks to Chris's TP signal we know he is here somewhere as well."
"Did he tell you where?"
Doug shook his head. "His signal was enough to wake me but it was more emotive than informative. I sensed pain, he is probably being interrogated, but it seemed to be from mental anguish about something he knew. Maximum range for effective TP is about five hundred meters, so he must be a bit further away than that. At a guess I would say he was above us."
Well what do we do now? Ingo thought to himself. I have been in tighter spots than this but usually with the rest of the team for support. I wonder how good this C-Force guy is.
"Seems like our best option is to try and rescue your Commander. If we can get closer to him he should be able to give us more to go on."
"I agree. Let's get to work."
Using his ability to see in the electro-magnetic spectrum, Doug began scanning the door frame for emissions from its control centres. In seconds he had assessed their layout and determined how to bypass their security. On any secure base it is usual for the doors to be linked to personal identity devices carried by authorised personnel. Without the proper authority, a door might as well be a wall. In this case Doug was able to produce a duplicate of the signal used the last time to door was accessed, then send this down the line for verification. A second later the door opened, revealing a corridor that lead away in both directions. No record of the actual time the door was opened would exist. It could take hours before automated auditing tools noticed the discrepancy. As a bonus he could keep a copy of the signal and possibly use it again later on.
Ingo smiled in appreciation at the efficiency of all this. He had produced a small, but lethal, laser pistol and moved to take the lead as they started down the corridor.

Governor's Interview Room, Girl Base
Hope II, Hope system
1510 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Chris stared forwards, though he had little other choice in his restraints, his mind struggling to handle everything that had happened.
His captor Dale had left the holo-screens open, a reminder as clear as an hourglass that the Comet's life could now be measure in minutes and seconds. He felt a desire to simply answer her questions and stop struggling.
Perhaps she would spare them.
Absently he realised he must have been given more than just a paralysis drug, various truth and compliance drugs had obviously been added to the mix.
A potent combination.
He could see Dale's lips moving. She was still asking questions, but he could barely understand what she was saying. Rather than anger this seemed to amuse her all the more.
Not since the cataclysm had Chris felt so completely helpless. He found himself thinking back to this time, to his failures that had nearly cost him his life. His eyes lost their focus and he began to let go of the present and drift away from the crisis he faced.
A detached part of his mind told him he recognised these symptoms, and knew he was going into shock. He had to find something he could do to fight back, no matter how small, to concentrate on what was happening.
Momentarily regaining their focus, his eyes caught on the tube protruding from under his left arm. He followed this to where it entered a panel in an IV drip. Another tube ran from the drip and disappeared under the table in the region of his lower back. He examined the emissions from the drug dispenser's control panel. It was a very sophisticated device, mounted in a console attached to this medi-pallet, and could supply any drug or combination of drugs currently known. He set himself the task of working out exactly what serums where being pumped into him.
The realisation hit him like a thunderbolt. If he could read the emissions of the drug dispenser, then its casing was unshielded. Of course, there was no reason for it not to be. Dale could not possibly know of his ability to see into the electro-magnetic spectrum and manipulate electronic devices with his mind. And these were just two of his Force powers. He still had a chance. It would take time to work out how but it was possible. He also had to make sure his captor did not notice.
At this thought he realised he was staring dumbly at the control panel, and tore his gaze away to Dale. She regarded him curiously. Her eyes held a hint of uncertainty, then narrowed in suspicion. Quickly he feigned dizziness to distract her. She furrowed her brow and walked swiftly around the pallet towards the console. The Governor examined it for a moment, then looked back at her captive.
"Perhaps you are not as strong as I have been told." She adjusted the output of the IV drip slightly.
Chris struggled not to show his relief. She hasn't caught on to me. She doesn't know what I am thinking. And adjusting the drug dispenser gives me exactly the information I need to begin trying to change it myself. He had to keep Dale distracted until he was ready.
Chris inhaled deeply several times then slurred, "Thanks. I was beginning to think I was flying."
Try to sound thankful. Let her think you're breaking. Dale straightened and nodded slightly.
"You can thank me by obtaining the surrender of your ship commander."
Chris gave her an exaggerated grimace. "For starters, I'm Special Forces, not fleet. It's not like I'm in command of the carrier. And besides" - he slurred a little - " how am I s'posed to talk down the Comet with whatever you're doing to the ionosphere?"
Dale smiled almost imperceptibly, but her eyes were cool and betrayed no amusement.
"Do you think to persuade me to lower the interdiction field? No, that will not be necessary. Our communications can penetrate the field. The holo-screen showing your carrier proves this." She turned to face the screens, taking several steps towards where they appeared to hang in the air before the medi-pallet.
"You will signal to your vessel and instruct it to respond with a wide band transmission. Once the Barbarella is in range she can relay the Comet's signal back to us here."
"As for your lack of command status. I'm sure that under the circumstances your Captain will weigh heavily any advice you give him."
Feeling the altered mix of drugs entering his system, Chris's head sank back onto the pallet. He felt euphoric, relaxed, and knew that he could no longer resist the governor's commands.
"I will speak to the Comet." He smiled at Dale, and for once she smiled back.
Deep inside his mind, Chris was still struggling to resist; though he showed no outward sign. As far as he was consciously aware, Dale was his new best friend and he would do anything to please her. At a deeper level, beyond the reaches of any physical influence, lay what the Special Forces call the Bastion. Beyond consciousness, beyond emotion lay a distilled version of his personality. The kernel of his being. In this secret recess of his mind he could still access his Force powers.
From here he began to fight back.

Lift Tube Terminus, Girl Base
Hope II, Hope system
1530 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Ingo tried to avoid looking at the walls of the lift tunnel as they passed by at a dizzying speed. Looking up was only a little less unsettling, so he contented himself by concentrating on the pattern of cables on the roof of the lift car beneath his feet. It had taken the two boys some time to find and sneak themselves into a transport shaft, then onto the top of one of the girl base's many lift cars. Once they had managed to do so without incident, Doug had agreed that trying to move as far up as possible was the best course of action.
Knowing only that the Commander of C-Force, Chris, was somewhere above them and just out of range for telepathy, getting closer was the only way that they could hope to communicate with him.
He checked his inertial locator again. They had ascended several hundred meters and yet Doug still could not get a response out of his commander. With no other plan they persisted in travelling on lift cars that were going up. This was not a simple task since many routes consisted of long sections of horizontal shafts that could suddenly change to a rapid ascent or descent. Already they had risked their lives jumping from one moving car to another, and he would prefer it if they could avoid having to do so again. Ingo only hoped that once contacted Chris could provide them with enough information to work out what they should do next.
Suddenly he was shunted upwards as the car came to a halt. The cabins for these cars contained inertial dampening fields, allowing them to be safely and rapidly stopped from high speed. He cursed that from his and Doug's position on the top of the car, it was not such a comfortable ride.
A quick check of his inertial locator confirmed that this was as high as they had reached in their travels to this point, by some twenty meters. Scanning intently through the walls around him he found open space for some distance encompassing the lift shaft.
He turned to Doug. "This must be the end of the line."
Doug nodded and pointed towards an access panel to Ingo's left. Taking the hint Ingo crawled to the end of the car and onto a support gantry. Behind him he heard Doug doing the same. Neither boy wanted to be still on the car when it decided to move off again. He carefully checked the access panel for security measures. Finding several, he waved for Doug to wait as he attempted to bypass them. The process was brief, and Ingo wondered if Doug could have done the job as fast. He made a mental note to let the C-Force agent try the next one himself, then cycled open the panel.
The light that entered, though not overly bright, was clearly natural and he soon realised he was looking at the outside of the base. As he had suspected the base was on Hope II, apparently inside a mountain that they had now reached the top of.
Stretching right across his field of view, beyond to mountain top, was a large crater of great height. Past that he could just see the edges of a vast grassy plain. Very likely the same one he had been captured on. It seemed that the mountain was surrounded on all sides by the crater. Whether this feature was natural or not was anyone's guess as far as he could tell.
Drawing his gaze back to the nearest features Ingo gave a quick shake of his head. He knew he should not have been surprised at the design of this section of the girl base. He had seen enough of them to know that building a purely functional outpost was not part of their character. From beneath the cloud covered sky he surveyed a large botanical garden. The grounds were in immaculate condition, many imported and what must have been indigenous plants thrived in carefully arranged rows and patterns. Small hills and valleys had been incorporated into the whole, with hedges and trees scattered around the area.
The walls of the crater stretched up as high as the lowest part of the garden. In several places the garden was linked to the far side of the crater by light-bridges. These expensive devices make use of an offshoot of shielding technology to produce a solid bridge, seemingly made out of light, activated with the touch of a button.
Dominating the rest of the scene was a gigantic tower stretching from the top of the mountain several hundred meters into the air. The tower was wide at the base, but then tapered, as it grew taller. A number of disc-shaped protrusions briefly went against this trend. Some of these had communications dishes attached to them while others appeared to have weapon mounts. Higher up on the tower looked like observation balconies and it finally ended in a large device that looked like one big microwave antenna. A haze surrounded the device and suggested vast amounts of energy being pumped into the sky.
Ingo had a hunch that this last structure was involved in the atmospheric phenomenon that earlier in the day had caused his fighter to crash. At its base the tower had a large set of doors that appeared to be its only entry.
Shaking his head at the wasteful extravagance Ingo pointed out the Tower.
Doug crawled up next to Ingo and looked out through the panel. "How do we get in there?"
Ingo smiled and brandished his pistol. "The usual sort of thing. We wait for a couple of girl troopers to come past, shoot them, then take their uniforms and blast helmets. That plus our spare voice replicators and we should have no trouble getting in."
Doug levelled a dubious look at him. "You sound pretty sure."
Ingo shrugged. "Come on, it always works."
"One day they'll stop using mirrored anti-laser visors on those blast helmets and we'll have to come up with another way of doing it."
Then Doug seemed to realise Ingo's intent. "But we don't have our stun-blasters."
Ingo shook his head ruefully. Here we go a damned pacifist. I'd heard that about C-Force. He lifted his head to stare intently at Doug. "That's not a problem for me."
Doug stared back at him. His dark eyes sparked as he sought a solution. "Look, we don't have to kill them."
Ingo raised an eyebrow. "Have you got a better idea?"
The C-Force agent nodded with a grin. From a compartment in his belt he produced a small round object. He hefted it into the air and caught it again. "I've got this stun grenade. When a likely group of girls come in here and get into a car you'll disable the monitors and I'll drop in the grenade."
Ingo smiled at the thought of it. "A stun grenade. You're going to drop a stun grenade in there." He chuckled to himself. "They'll wake up wishing they were dead."
Doug nodded. "We'll have to time it just right. No one will see it and with the monitors disabled we won't set off any alarms. Then we just hide the bodies, take their uniforms and stroll on into the tower."

They had to wait for some time as several groups of girls came and went before finally two girl troopers in shining ablative uniforms and blast helmets entered the car. Doug and Ingo waited for them to speak, so they could sample their voices for the voice replicators.
Unfortunately these were not a talkative pair of guards, which made it hard to get good voice prints. "Sublevel 6, guard room alpha." Was all that one of the girls said.
Doug held up the grenade and whispered. "They'll say more when I drop this on them."
The boys carefully moved off the gantry and onto the roof of the lift car as it began to descend. Ingo crawled over to where the security junction box was located. He tried not to let the rush of passing levels distract him as he opened the box and prepared to disable the security system. Doug stationed himself next to the access hatch and held the stun grenade ready.
Ingo nodded to signal that he was ready and began to key in an override command to bring the car to a halt. Just then the car stopped descending and started on a horizontal transport shaft.
Precisely at the wrong moment.
Ingo was shunted backwards and off balance, dragging his hand out of the junction box. Instantly he saw that his movement had inadvertently sent the wrong command. Instead of stopping the car he had disabled the interior lights. Worse, he suspected he might have restarted the security system. He scrambled towards the junction box and stabbed at controls with his fingers. With a jolt he stopped the car from going any further.
"What's going on?" One of the guards yelled.
Helpless to intervene at the moment Ingo looked across at the other boy. Doug's face betrayed alarm but he recovered quickly. Knowing there was no time to waste he switched to infrared vision and pulled open the access hatch.
"On the roof. Get them!" The second guard screamed. A bright beam of laser light nearly cut Doug's head off as the girl troopers opened fire on his position. With no other choice he lobbed in the stun grenade and ducked back out of the way.
There was a blinding flash and a thunderclap as the grenade detonated. Not at all related to the high tech and relatively painless stun-blaster, the stun-grenade was designed to incapacitate an enemy with the concussion of its blast. In such a confined space the girl's helmets provided little protection from its effects. The sound of the explosion echoed down the lift shaft and Ingo trusted that it was too well insulated for anyone outside to hear.
Coming from the other side of the hatch Ingo leapt down into the pitch-black car and found both guards sprawled across the floor. He didn't need his infrared vision in order to see that the security monitor was flashing a bright orange. He activated his voice replicator and tore a helmet from one of the girls, stuffing it on his head as the lights came back on. He stood scant inches from the monitor, hoping to block the scene behind him with the blast helmet.
"Ah, Weapons malfunction. Situation normal." He paused a second and struggled to hear Doug whisper the name on the guard's id tag. "Corporal Fisher reporting."
The security display altered as the system attempted to verify his instruction. Then the symbol for working changed to that of acceptance. Even behind the safety of the blast helmet Ingo tried not to look relieved when from the speaker came the familiar female voice of Cybernetica. "Statement accepted Corporal Fisher. Proceed to weapons locker A2 for weapons check."
Thank god it's on an automated system, Ingo thought. A human would never have gone for that. Even so we probably only got away with it because the security system had to restart. He heard the sound of Doug dragging the girl's bodies out of the camera's field of view. He gave the boy a few seconds more, then relaxed and stepped backwards towards him.
In minutes they had squeezed into the girl's reflective armour and had hidden their bodies behind a service panel. They gave the girls sedatives to ensure they would remain unconscious for the next few hours.
Doug gave a lopsided grin and lowered his blast visor. "Mission accomplished."
Ingo grimaced behind his own visor. "Yeah, but we didn't get much of a sample for our voice replicators. Don't go trying to chat up any of these girls."
Doug nodded and returned to the command screen and ordered the car back up to the surface. Once there they stepped out cautiously into the garden. Ingo forced himself to relax. They did not want to look too cautious. The entrance to the tower was forty meters away, through a set of glass-steel double doors.
As the doors slid open a girl sitting at a large desk looked up at them. She wore no helmet and looked slightly surprised, but not alarmed, to see them. "Oh, what are you two doing back already?"
Doug was supposed to reply something along the lines of, "I forgot my pen." But perhaps fortunately at that same moment he stammered and stopped before saying anything.
"Are you alright?" asked the guard.
Ingo took the initiative. "She's not feeling well. We're just going to go the bathroom."
"Oh, well you know where it is, past the kitchen." The girl gave a bored wave off to her right.
Ingo took one of Doug's arms and led him over in that direction. "What happened to the plan damn it?" He quietly demanded.
Doug looked back towards the guard as Ingo spotted a set of stars that he assumed must lead down to the toilets. He led Doug towards them as the boy whispered, "Just as I was about to speak I picked up Chris's thoughts. They were jumbled though, almost unrecognisable. It threw me for a second."
The stairs did indeed lead to the kitchen and from there the toilets. Ingo quickly checked that the stalls were unoccupied and then turned back to Doug.
"Well, lucky for you I was on the ball."
"Oh yeah, lucky alright. Now we have clearance to use the toilets. Not that I don't need to go, but what excuse are we going to use to get to the lifts?"
Ingo held open the door to one of the stalls and motioned for Doug to go inside. "Hopefully your Commander can figure a way to do that. I'll keep watch while you try and contact him."
Several minutes later Doug emerged from the stall looking a bit pale.
"What's up?" Ingo asked.
Doug lowered his visor. "Chris is in some kind of bad trouble. I was unable to communicate with his conscious mind; he is using the Bastion. That's why I couldn't understand him before. It's really hard work to talk to someone's Bastion. Doesn't make much sense. Have you ever done it?"
Ingo shrugged. "A few times. They don't really use words so much as images in impulses. It is the telepathic equivalent of grunting and pointing. Chris must be copping some pretty heavy treatment if that is the only way he can communicate." I wouldn't have thought the Girls would be that bad, or maybe Chris just has a low pain threshold. He shrugged. "So what did he have to say?"
Doug continued. "It seems this base has some kind of weapon that has been taking pot shots at the Comet. The same kind of thing that shot us down earlier. Chris says he wants us to sabotage it."
Ingo considered this. I like a bit of sabotage as much as the next guy, but that sounds like tall order. "Any idea what it is or how we are going to sabotage it? I don't know about you, but I don't exactly have a demolition kit stashed away on me."
Doug shrugged. "In his state he couldn't lay out the whole plan. We'll need to find our way to the generators on level 6 and he'll feed us with info as we need it."
"OK. Let's move on it then." Ingo answered.

At that moment the doors opened behind them and both boys turned around to see the secretary, flanked by a far more daunting figure. This second girl was wearing a heavy suit of sculpted powered armour and carried a waist mounted multiple-ordinance squad support weapon.
Ingo began to raise his arms above his head. She could destroy half the room with that thing!
Doug stepped in front of him calmly. He spoke to the secretary. "I'm feeling much better now thanks."
The power suited figure replied in a slightly metallic voice. "Good. You two were the ones who reported a weapons malfunction earlier. Sound's like an excuse to avoid your duties for a few hours. Come with me down to the live firing range and see how you find a few hours drill."
The P-Trooper and the secretary turned to leave, clearly expecting them to follow. Doug whispered. "When I signal, jump the secretary."
Ingo was glad Doug couldn't see the expression on his face. Sure he could take out the unarmed secretary, but what was Doug going to do about the one in powered armour?
Still, the boy seemed confident enough, so Ingo readied himself by closing the distance between himself and the other girl. The four of them left the toilets behind and soon made it back to the main reception. Here the secretary resumed her place and Ingo knew that what ever scheme Doug must have planned, it had gone wrong. They kept walking out through the sliding reception doors and out across the garden until they reached the terminus of the lift shaft.
Something was odd, the trooper just stood there, without touching the lift controls. Ingo wondered whether she had some sort of remote control via her suit. Then Doug stepped forward and placed his hand on the back of the Trooper. As he removed his hand Ingo noticed that the other boy had attached a small device.
Doug said, "Follow my lead." and moved in front of the trooper. Ingo moved to stand next to the other boy and saw through the clear face plate of the trooper that she was shouting and probably swearing like one.
He was impressed. "What did you do?"
"Well, it required more time than I expected but I isolated the command frequency from the rest of the systems in the girl's suit. Once I located the control nexus it was easy enough to jam it until I could attach a repeater over it. She can't move, shoot, or communicate."
Doug lifted his visor to wink at his captive. She renewed her shouting and if anything her face became even more red when she recognised he was a boy.
"Now we can go back and take care of the secretary."
Ingo inclined his head. "What about this one? Someone's bound to happen by and notice her." He tapped on the girl's face plate before adding curiously. "Has she still got air in there?"
"She's got enough. If she stops yelling," he said with added emphasis. "A few hours or so. Have you got any scapolomine-7?"
Ingo nodded and Doug continued. "You go back in and use it on miss sweetness and light in there, once it takes effect get her to clear us for a trip to the Ion Cannon. Get a voice record from her too, we might need it later. Then I'll walk this one out of the way and join you."
Ingo grinned and began striding back once more towards the tower.

12. 'Message'

Bridge, UNHCV Comet
Orbit Hope II, Hope system
1530 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Bobby was still on the bridge when the communications officer looked up with a start. "Captain, we are getting a signal from the surface. Standard hailing frequency."
Captain Morris nodded. "Send it through to me." The boy adjusted the screen so only those on the command dais would be able to hear what was said. Clearly he had a good idea what to expect from the conversation. Trying not to stare, but itching to know what was on the screen, Bobby saw the Captain's eyes widen in surprise. Morris quickly regained his composure, then he made eye contact with Millar and Bobby and signalled for them to come over.
Bobby knew his usually calm features must have betrayed a number of mixed emotions as he recognised the face on the comms screen. It was Commander Chris.
"Captain, I suggest we take this in the briefing room."
Millar joined him in that sentiment. "I agree sir. Special Forces priority."
Morris' eyes bored into theirs, almost like he was trying to read their minds. "OK Comms, switch this through to the briefing room."
The three swiftly moved off the bridge and into the briefing room. Chris's face hung before them on the holo-screen. Bobby thought he looked odd. Is he lying down? Chris had no apparent physical injuries, but the look in his eyes told him that something was wrong with his commander. Relief at his survival quickly turned to concern.
Chris was repeating a message over and over again. Stating that the Comet should surrender to the new rightful government of Earth in order to prevent further needless bloodshed. This removed any lingering doubt that the planet of Hope II indeed supported a girl base, but there was something else wrong. Chris sounded like he actually believed what he was saying, that he had surrendered and now supported the UGF. That was impossible. He would never betray us.
"He's bloody gone over to their side." Millar spat.
No, Bobby thought. He must have been drugged. Only some extreme form of coercion could make him act this way. But there was something else. The boy's voice just sounded different, strange.
"That's it!" Bobby shouted, his hand grasping the air in front of him.
The other two boys turned quizzical glances on him and he realised he would have to explain.
"Chris is under some kind of influence, but he is still trying to communicated with us." With Chris still droning on in the background he opened a holo-window and ran a voice-processing program. The program showed a wave representing the sound of Chris's voice. It expanded and contracted all along its length in response to what was being said.
Bobby eyes followed these patterns and he nodded. "I believe he has encoded a message within his own voice patterns. It will take just a moment to decode them."
Bobby tapped at the data pad furiously as he filtered away the part of the wave that was Chris's normal voice. Eventually he was left with a pattern that represented a simple binary code that C-Force agents had been trained to read.
"You are kidding." Morris began. "Are you trying to tell me that he has that kind of voice control. Even while under the influence of drugs?"
"We are not called 'Special' Forces for nothing Captain." Bobby replied, and looked over to Millar. He knew that they both understood about the 'Bastion', and that Chris must be using it now. There was no need to explain all this to a Navy Captain however.
"That's it. He's given us his GPS location, and a best guess schematic of the base. He's also got a description of the current configuration of the Rapier class vessel and..." He paused in thanks. "Doug and Ingo are alive, and they're free."
Millar clenched his fist. "Oh Yeah!"
Bobby continued, "He thinks he can arrange for Doug and Ingo to sabotage the Ion Cannon."
Morris paced towards the holo-screen. "This calls for a change of plans. Your two teams can now teleport right on top of the base. Support Chris's sabotage attempts and get him and the others out of there as fast as you can. I'll stall the girls by trying to negotiate our 'surrender'."
Activating a broadcast Morris began, "This is Fleet Captain Morris, UNHCV Comet…"
Bobby and Millar hurried out of the room, across the bridge and out to a waiting high priority transport car.

Governor's Interview Room, Girl Base
Hope II, Hope system
1540 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Chris began to slowly come to his senses. Finally he had found a chance to alter the composition of the chemical cocktail that was being pumped into him from the drip. His Bastion had done its job beyond his best hopes. Soon Doug and Ingo would be in position to sabotage the Ion Cannon and his friends aboard the Comet should have decoded his message.
Now, free from outside compulsion, his conscious mind was ready to take over. He almost felt a sense of resistance as he suppressed his bastion's control and began to make his own fully aware decisions. He looked down at his hands and willed his fingers to move. Move! Agonising seconds passed as his nerves seemed to struggle to force the message down through his arms. There was a slight tingling sensation and then suddenly his right index finger twitched. He kept a close eye on Dale as his fists clenched and unclenched, regaining feeling and control. Soon he knew that his whole body was back under his command.
Now he could move he knew he had to do something about his captor. Even before that he had to get rid of the bindings which now were the only things keeping him on the medi-pallet. Damn she is thorough. He also suspected that she would have her own automatic defence drones just waiting for him to make a move. Anything he did had to be decisive and answer of all these threats. He almost smiled as he realised he was enjoying the challenge.
Dale was still pouring over her transcript of what Chris had told her. He would have to destroy those records too, but that was a longer-term problem. At least a few minutes away. He looked over to the table holding his uniform and equipment. His Bastion had scanned it before and pointed out that his stun-blaster was handily pointed away from him. He knew that below the muzzle of the barrel was a shield extender. This device effectively stretched his personal shield out to cover his arm and weapon when he was holding it in a firing position. But of course, as anyone with sufficient experience in Precursor technology knew, given a shield you have an inertial dampener, and given one of those it's a short step to having a repulsor.
In a surge of force power he disabled the catch on the binding around his chest. He sat up and stretched forth his hand toward the blaster. Using his force powers again he the triggered the inertial dampener in his pistol, bypassing the safety restrictions to make it act like a repulsor. The resulting impact jolted the weapon out of its holster, through the air, and into his waiting hand. He blasted the strap holding his legs down then immediately rolled to his right and off the medi-pallet. He crashed on to the floor and rolled back under the table just as an energy beam sliced through the space where he had landed.
In the milliseconds since Chris started to move Dale had only had time to stagger to her feet and stare at her former captive. Chris sat up on one knee and fired a weak stun-blast at her and she began to collapse to the floor. He sprang out from under the medi-pallet and ran towards her. He sensed then dodged a blast from somewhere in the ceiling before throwing himself under the girl as she fell. The firing stopped, as Chris had hoped; the automated systems would not risk hitting their controller. He turned back to fire at the source of the energy beam, but he no longer sensed it. He realised that it must be mobile, and could be anywhere in the ceiling above him, or even in the walls. As soon as it had a clear shot he was dead.
He shouted into his captive's ear. "Call off the defences Dale."
"I'll die first." She spat.
Clearly the rapid switching of their roles had not over awed her, and she struggled to break his grip. Cautiously balancing Dale between himself and where he thought the defence system might be, Chris moved over to the medi-pallet and keyed in a command on the IV panel. Dale gave him a baleful look as he detached a full hype pack from the system and injected her with it.
She sagged as the fast acting drugs penetrated her system. Chris repeated his demand in a calm voice, knowing that the drug would be more effective that way. "Now Dale. Disable the security systems."
Her expression became neutral and she looked back at him blankly. She spoke in a hollow voice. "Disable security systems. Authorisation code, Theta one."
A muffled metallic clank emanated from the wall to his right. He shot a glance that way, then brought his gaze back to Dale. Her eyes betrayed a diminished level of defiance, but no amount drugs would be enough for him to trust her. Another clank followed a second later, slightly to the left of the first. A third noise, similar to the other two came from the ceiling about ten metres away. With these sounds to guide him he was soon able to spot them via their energy emissions. They looked low enough for them to be off-line. He gave his former captor a meaningful look as he set his stun-blaster to kill, and moved slowly away from her. Nothing happened. The security devices had been disabled.
Good girl.
He started towards the weapons table to get his voice replicator. Activated much earlier by his Bastion, the device would have sampled more than enough of Dale's voice to be effective. But just as he stepped forward to take the device he stumbled and half fell onto the table. He snatched at the replicator and placed it next to his throat.
Dale was still defiant even under the effect of her own drugs. "So you have not complete immunity to our serums. You are weakening."
He called back, now in Dale's voice. "I can make it. With you to give me the codes and your voice. I'm about to make a few changes to how this place is run."
Suddenly he realised that Dale had hidden one hand behind her. He decided she must have been doing something with the drug dispenser. He sprang, or rather tried to spring, over to stop her but his knees gave way and he staggered to the floor. The adrenaline burst that had got him this far since escaping the medi-palet was wearing off. He struggled back to his feet in time to see Dale injecting herself with something from a hype pack. She smiled in triumph and fell to the floor.
Chris walked carefully over to her body and placed one hand to her throat. He found to his relief that she was still alive. He had half expected her to have administered some sort of poison. Relief turned to concern that he could care either way about this girl's fate, after what she had put him though. It'd serve her right if I just shot her. Aside from the fact that he knew he could never do that he also knew he had other, more important, things to deal with now. He lifted the girl's limp body up onto the medi-pallet and reset the remaining restraints. That should take care of her.
He turned from Dale and spoke into the holo-screen containing Sharon at fire control. He knew from observing earlier conversations that she would not expect to actually see Dale, just hear her voice commands.
His commands.
"Sharon, I wish to show our guest a little more. Please display schematics for the Ion Cannon. Though I doubt he will understand many of them."
Sharon turned from her console to face the monitor. "Are you sure that is wise ma'am?" She asked.
Chris had had ample experience of the haughty arrogance Dale would use in response to such a question. "Of course. He is securely bound and completely under our sway. Show the schematics Captain."
The girl gave no further argument and soon the screen showed the plans and installation of the Ion Cannon. Chris could hardly believe his ploy had worked so well. Now he had to find a way to disable the thing, and without anyone else noticing. The simple schematics Sharon had displayed were not as detailed as he had hoped. They were more functional than technical, but Chris knew that to ask for more would be too suspicious. He sat at a console and angled it so he could keep one eye on Dale.
After several minutes he caught himself beginning to drift off. Damn those drugs! He knew that without a full detoxification program in a medical facility, he could easily lose consciousness. He also knew he would not have access to one of those until he got back to the Comet.
"They'll have a plan to get us. I just have to sabotage the base." He mumbled to himself. He considered using a stimulant shot from his utility belt, or trying to administer a counter agent from the drug dispenser. But he had no idea how the stimulant would react with everything else in his system, and no time to work out the correct dosages and combinations from the dispenser. He shook his head to clear it and went back to studying the plans.

Governor's Tower Ion Cannon, Girl Base
Hope II, Hope system
1540 hours GMT 2079-May-4

The doors of the access hatch slid open with a low hum and the two boys stepped through cautiously.
Ingo rubbed his hands together. "Ok we're in, lets set a few charges and blow this place to hell." As he took in the huge chamber that opened out below them his smile vanished. "It's going to take a bit more than that isn't it."
Doug could only nod as he gazed down into the vast chamber. The main chamber was spherical, perhaps forty meters in diameter. They stood in a narrower cylindrical section that dropped ten meters before joining the chamber. The other end of the cylinder ended in a tightly fitted iris valve twenty meters above their heads. Directly below and embedded into the floor and walls were two rows of large notches the ran the length of the sphere, crossing in its centre. One notch on either side of the charger was lit more brightly than the others.
Doug guessed that this must be part of the aiming mechanism. Clearly the whole thing was designed to pivot around this centre to obtain line of sight to its target. It was a strangely primitive combination, firing unguided projectiles meant this thing lived up to the name Cannon. However Doug knew from what Chris had described earlier that the payload of the magnetic shell it fired was anything but primitive.
The charging area was protected by a large force shield. Within that field was a device which generated a magnetic bottle around the projectile. The combination rendered the projectile impervious to anything but ship board weaponry.
Chris had warned him what to expect. However just before the boys had reached the chamber he had gone back into his bastion. Doug could only surmise that his condition was so poor that in order to keep himself going Chris has re entered the mind kernel. Strange that he did not warn me though. He decided to keep this bit of information to himself for now.
Perhaps Chris could have found a way from Dale's control centre to disable the shield, but the girls in the CIC would surely detect that and have a backup override. Now Chris was in no condition to try it anyway.
Below him a projectile glowed as it was charged with the exotic plasma.
"Chris said just one of those things would be enough to take out the Comet." Doug then cleared his throat harshly to cover the awe in his voice. He realised that when the shell was fired it would pass right through this platform. Anyone standing on it when that happened would likely be left in pretty poor shape.
Ingo had noted the same features. "If they can get far enough out the Comet should be able evade the projectile."
Doug was not so sure. "Depending on how fast it goes. The accelerator there looks pretty powerful, and the mass of the shell and the plasma would be small. They could get anything up to half the speed of light out of them."
Ingo's heavy brows lowered in concentration. "Yeah or they could vent plasma to alter course. The shell has no targeting ability but a tracking laser could do the job. Still even that won't help if the Comet can get far enough out of orbit."
Doug gave a short nod. "All valid thoughts, but none of them are helping us get our job done."
From his position on the gantry some ten meters above this apparatus, Doug tried to make sense of the mass of additional information as he received it from Chris's bastion. Ahead of him he could see the Cannon and its emplacement and as he looked from component to component its name and function was forcefully hammered into his mind by his Commander.

"RAMP HOUSING, ACCELERATOR, SECONDARY FIELD GENERATOR. STABILISATION GYROS. TARGETTING NETWORK LINK. CHARGE COIL. CHARGING PROJECTILE. LOADING ARM..."

Much of the basics were already obvious to both of them. Doug tried to fill in the details for Ingo from the data Chris had given him.
"A giant particle accelerator ring terminates right below the base of the cannon. The charge builds up there, is concentrated then funnelled through the charge coil. This continues to excite the plasma particles, and accelerates them before focusing them into the projectile. Once the projectile is ready a rail gun assembly is deployed up through the iris valve above us. This assembly is sealed and the air is pumped out to form a vacuum. When fired the rail gun accelerates the projectile to some unspecified speed that is pretty bloody fast. Almost relativistic."
Ingo gave him a doubtful look and Doug nodded in understanding.
"I can't be sure why the shell isn't vaporised by air friction when it hits the atmosphere outside, maybe the plasma shields it somehow or there is something else we don't know about. It's not like we have a full technical blue-print to read." He paused for a breath. "Anyway Chris has already had a demonstration and he says it works."
Ingo shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem to mess with. If we can get to it."
Doug replied. "I figure we could get through it with our personal shields, if we still had them. Throw in our web casters to lower us down and it would be easy."
Ingo said. "Really that is only half the problem. Given time we could do it but destroying this sucker won't help with the atmospheric interdiction. Run that past your Commander."
Doug grimaced, but it was not difficult to know what his commander would say.
"Chris agrees. Disabling the Cannon won't be enough to help us in our quest for the moon. Some how we have to take out the base and its fighters."
He continued. "Which we could do if we disabled the cannon's magnetic bottle and the projectile's one too." He considered this for a few seconds the smiled. "The resulting release of energy would disable half the base for sure."
He leaned over the safety railing, then peered at the schematic on his micro datapad.
"Now we are pretty limited to what we can do from here. And our chances of doing any more effective damage are limited. We can't do anything about the projectile that's already loaded. The magnetic field of the cannon is a redundancy designed to protect it in case the projectile's fails. But that field can't do anything about the projectile once it has been fired. The magnetic containment projectiles hold the unique concentration of ionised plasma in place until it hits its target. If we can cause it to fail at just the right time..."
He looked at his schematic then continued as Ingo opened his mouth to interrupt. "The lift platform is where they are unloaded before being hooked up to the Cannon. If we can get in there to the magazine..."
Ingo slapped the safety rail with his palm. "But how can we do that? We can't reach the projectile that has already been loaded and the loading arm connects directly to the magazine. The magazine itself is built right into the damn mountain. The bloody girls probably pre-loaded before activating the shield. There's no way to get to the projectiles."
He swung around to point furiously over to the load lift. "And the things are pretty damn small, they must have thousands in there. Which means there is no normal facility for reloading the magazine we can exploit.
Doug's eyes followed the other boy's outstretched arm and as his gaze reached the lift he felt a response in his mind.
"EMP CHARGE. PLACE BELOW LIFT. TRIGGER BY PROXIMITY OF WEIGHTED PLATFORM."
The sudden strength of the telepathic signal from Chris's bastion left Doug stunned for a minute. Ingo had to shake him to bring him back to his senses.
"What's the matter with you?" The boy asked.

Doug held up one hand to forestall the X-Force agent. He wanted to get the idea straight in his head. A properly weighted EMP charge, if he placed it to go off when a new projectile was being loaded via the lift platform, would impair the device's ability to maintain the magnetic bottle around the ionised plasma. He noticed Ingo trying to get his attention but he ignored the other boy and stared down into the chamber below. They would have to disable the diagnostics on the cannon so it did not detect the fault in the projectile.
He looked back up at Ingo. "Can you write a bypass for a factor six sensor suite?"
"Yes, but why..."
"Just get started."
He went back to Chris's idea. The Ion Cannon Charger's own containment field would augment the shot so it would be fully charged, but once fired it would fail within microseconds. It would probably just clear the iris valve at the end of the launch tube then release the plasma in a devastating blast that would engulf the entire base. The Cannon, fire control, scanning, and fighter command would be off-line for hours. It would also take out the atmospheric interdiction. Whole tracks of relay systems would be completed disabled.
He distractedly noticed Ingo punching away at his datapad, then rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The blast could even compromise the fusion reactors that were undoubtedly buried deep in the mountain below them. OK, that wasn't likely, but one thing for sure was that the girls would have their skirts around their ankles long enough for Comet to take control of the planet.
The only problem with the plan was that it would allow the girl's one good shot at the Comet. One that would be at close range. It also meant that the ship would have to hang around in front of the Cannon waiting for the next shot to ensure the plan worked. Doug wasn't too sure that Captain Morris would go for that idea. Still, it was the best chance he could think of, and it gave him, Ingo, and Chris a chance to be rescued once the atmospheric interdiction came down.
The clincher of course was that being Chris's idea Doug himself could not be held accountable, so he didn't have to worry about what a certain navy captain might think about it anyway.
He returned his thoughts to the scene around him to notice Ingo leaning against a panel with his arms crossed. He had gone along with Doug's directions until now, even when he had repeatedly evaded the X-Force agent's questions by using special forces hand signal that indicated he was in telepathic communication. But slowly a dark scowl had grown to dominate Ingo's features, the heavy brows drew together, and he had a look in his eye that made Doug feel like he was on the wrong end of a laser emitter. He knew the other boy had had enough.
"I don't know how you do things in C-Force, but in X-Force we're not expected to blindly follow orders. What's going on?"
Doug faced the other boy, involuntarily turning his palms up in a conciliatory gesture. "Sorry Ingo, Chris has gone back into the Bastion again and I'm trying to keep in contact with it. I can still read the plans for the Cannon, but I wanted you to get started before I explained the idea. It's a little far fetched."
Ingo frowned. "Try me."
Doug handed over a rough schematic he had drawn on his datapad. Ingo peered at the diagram as the other boy pointed at a ammunition supply mechanism for the weapon.

"So, the next time the lift stops there with a full load it will trigger a short range but powerful electro-magnetic pulse. This will ruin the projectile's ability to maintain a strong enough magnetic bottle for the plasma, but not damage it in any visible way. We will also have to disable the diagnostics on the cannon so it can't detect the fault."
Ingo shrugged. "And then what? They load another one. We only buy the Comet a bit of time to get out of range."
Doug held up one hand. "Ah no, the difference here is that we'll be disabling the shell before it gets loaded, but it will still get loaded."
As he finished explaining the idea to the other boy Ingo grunted and shook his head. "And we're going to do all this based on a plan out of someone's head who is nearly unconscious from drugs."
Doug was not sure from what depth of memory and intuition in Chris's bastion he had got the idea for this approach, but he thought it would work, and he wasn't about to let the X-Force agent run down his commander.
"Well it's got a chance of working and that beats anything else we've come up with."
Ingo shrugged. "I think a grenade in the emitter would do a pretty good job..." He made a punching motion. "Damn it, if we only had our web casters this would be a piece of piss. Well, except for passing through the shield anyway. Our personal shields could take care of that part."
They exchanged glances.
"Why don't we just go up and get them?"
Doug's face lit up. "I've got a better idea, why don't we just get them sent down." He then held up a hand. "Hold on." He concentrated then realised he had lost Chris altogether. The boy was unconscious.
"Damn it!"

13. 'Cybernetica'

Governor's Interview Room, Girl Base
Hope II, Hope system
1600 hours GMT 2079-May-4

The next thing Chris knew he was looking at the floor. He sprang up straight and checked his watch. Twenty minutes! His gaze darted rapidly around the room. Dale was still on the medi-pallet and through the holo-screen he saw Sharon still sitting at her post. He had not been discovered.
Not yet.
But Sharon could be making a report to her commander at any time. He knew that the first thing that would happen in the event of his discovery would be the reactivation of the room's defence mechanisms. There was no time for finesse, so he grabbed his pistol from the console and sent several blasts into the wall and ceiling. The nearly silent beams sliced through the thin metallic covering and disabled the weapons in the hidden security devices. For good measure he blasted the transcript records Dale had used earlier to record his interrogation.
Looking around for something else to shoot, his eye fell upon the table containing his equipment. If I am going to die up here, I want to be in uniform. He looked down at himself. Or anything other than this white thing. He placed his pistol nearby and threw off the medical smock.
Just to make sure everything was in place, and to give himself something to concentrate on, he went through the standard readiness drill.
First his neoprene under suit. Able to with stand incredible extremes of cold, this outfit doubled as a flight suit and a pressure suit. With helmet and gloves, it could even function for a respectable amount of time in the vacuum of space. Now his laser-ablative uniform; combat trousers, undershirt and battle jacket. These clothes could change colour to match the surrounding environment and, in conjunction with the neoprene under suit, could also selectively bleed heat to render him invisible to scanners in the infrared spectrum. The uniform was covered with hidden compartments containing miniature devices. These clothes were an essential part of his equipment.
He attached a web caster to each of his wrists. Multipurpose devices, the caster fires a beam of nano-filament and could be used to aid climbing or even as a weapon. The billions of nano-machines contained in the fibre could be directed from the caster to attach themselves to whatever surface they struck and release again at will.
Two shoulder holsters under his jacket contained small but powerful assault pistols. He always kept another, even smaller version, hidden in his boot. He shoved his boots on, and felt them adjust slightly to support his feet. Shaped specifically for him alone and able to adjust their tread to any surface, they also contained a powerful magnet to allow him to scale the outside of metallic structures.
He stood up and reached for his utility belt. Filled with enough gadgets that it would take a hour to go through them all, he satisfied himself that the seals on its many compartments had not been broken, then attached his gun belt and holsters to it and buckled it on.
He gratefully activated his personal shield, producing a slight tingling sensation as its invisible field surrounded him. It was good to be fully protected again. Moving quickly he detached an expanding bag from his belt and stowed the equipment belonging to Doug and Ingo inside. He noted a few non-standard and highly lethal devices that he assumed must belong to Ingo. The boy was living up to his reputation.
Finally he retrieved his other stun-blaster, and with a flourish spun the weapon around his trigger finger several times before slamming it forcefully into his right side holster. He sensed the familiar readouts from all his many devices as they came on-line, and smiled.
Now I feel better.
He scanned around the room. What next? He felt a thrill of danger as he noticed the exit to the lift shaft. A light on the side indicated that a lift car was approaching. Lock the blast door!
He ran over to the blast door and pulled a lock inhibitor from his utility belt. He shoved the device against the door and waited impatiently for it to detect and disable the locking mechanism. He tried to scan the door to perceive its electro-magnetic emissions, but either it was too well insulated or he was too spent to use his force powers. He was too weary to tell. Finally the inhibitor attached itself to the metal sheath of the door.
Chris looked back at the softly glowing amber light. The lift had stopped two levels down. He breathed out between taught lips and turned back into the room, trying to relax and clear his head.
"Chris, are you awake?" Doug's voice broke through his attempt at mental calm. The signal carried a heavy trace of worry from his friend.
Damn. Doug's still sabotaging the Ion Cannon. He barely kept the thought from becoming a telepathic signal.
"Doug, I've been out of it for the last twenty minutes. I haven't figured a way for you to spike the cannon."
The boy's reply was confident. "Don't worry sir. Before you lost consciousness you re-entered the Bastion. I was able to read the schematics straight out of your mind. We were able to come up with a plan."
Relief washed over Chris and threatened to drag him down into sleep again. He knew he should have automatically remembered this information when he woke up, but he pushed that thought aside.
"OK, well done." He grinned to himself. "I'll make sure to split the credit so it reads that way in my report."
Doug paused for a few seconds, Chris could sense he was leading up to something. "Well you're the governor of this planet and you've had a hard day interrogating a prisoner. You need some refreshments sent up from the kitchen."
"I do? Well yes I am a bit hungry..." He walked over to the hatch which covered the access to the dumb waiter shaft. He grinned. "And what am I going to be sending down in return?"
"We need our shield generators and webcasters. Dale's got a pretty lavish set up down there. They'll easily fit under the serving covers. Should be no problem for us to walk in and grab them."
Chris's smile became a grimace. "Shields and webcasters, and you're saying I helped come up with this plan?"
"We've got it under control sir. Should take us twelve minutes to get things set up down here once we get that equipment."

Chris quickly ran through what he knew of the base's layout. Doug had apparently told him about a garden and the surrounding crater earlier while he was still in the Bastion. He now found a full description of it and the top of the mountain at the base of the tower. It seemed to be the most likely way to escape. Now that he concentrated he found he could remember the sabotage plan Doug was referring to.
What a clever bastard I am.
He switched his thoughts back to telepathy. "Once you have finished get back to the surface and lay low. Stay near one of the light-bridges and be ready to capture it on my command. I've got a few things to do up here then we'll arrange a rendezvous."
"Acknowledged." The boy's thoughts returned to his task, and Chris's returned to his own.
Now for the real challenge, Dale.
He had never tried to penetrate the mind of another without that person's permission. Oh he had been trained how to use his abilities to wipe the short term memory of an enemy when necessary, but to do more was considered to be bad form by the enigmatic leader of the Special Forces. That had always been enough to discourage Chris from attempting it.
Until now.
He walked over to the girl's limp body on the medi-pallet and rechecked the restraints. Then, placing his hands gently on her head, he concentrated on reading the electrical emissions from her brain. In simple terms these were similar to the emissions from any number of electronic devices, or the organic computers favoured by the UGF and its supporters. In practise the reading of another's thoughts was a virtual impossibility without a force aware individual's co-operation. Even then it could take months of practise before reliable telepathy was possible. However, here he was not trying for such a long-term result. He simply wanted to see if he could manage to read anything from Dale's mind. He just had to hope that anything he found would prove useful.
Chris's eyes lost their focus as he concentrated on converting the signals he read into meaningful data; pictures, emotions, words, or ideas. At first he found it all to be completely incomprehensible, as he had feared. Doug and Ingo would finish with the Ion Cannon soon; his time would run out shortly after that. He had to make this time count.
Taking a steadying breath he started again. Beginning with the areas of memory he could erase, he tried to find links between these and deeper, more important memories. Clearing out the memories of the most vital secrets he had given away while under her control, eventually he began to perceive a pattern to her mind. The thoughts were rigid, static. She must have incredible thought control to arrange even her subconscious mind so precisely. Finally he began to make out images. Dale as she first arrived on this planet. Travelling in a tach capable warship. Back on Earth, at the UGF military academy. Being introduced to Cybernetica herself. The thoughts dwelt on this moment, focused on the mist filled glass box that was said to contain the organic components of the cyborg computer. A sight no boy he knew of had ever seen. Through Dale's eyes he peered through the mists at a figure within. The figure turned and filled his thoughts, the eyes all knowing, the face angelic, the smile mocking.
"Chris, join me."
He reeled back in shock from the vision, letting go of Dale's head and taking a couple of shaky steps away from the medi-palet. He could have sworn the image had spoken to him; read his mind even as he tried to read Dale's. He snatched a look at the medi-pallet's readings. They confirmed that she was still unconscious. She could not have done this on purpose. Then his gaze fell on the time. Almost ten minutes had passed!
How could that be?
"It must the drugs again. It must be."
He tried to believe it, but a fear had settled deep in his stomach. It was proving very difficult to shake the idea that he had somehow communicated with Cybernetica. Well he had at least managed to clear out the important details from Dale's mind, he wasn't going back in there again in a hurry.
Doug's voice interrupted his musings. "Chris, we have finished setting up the sabotage of the Ion Cannon. We are going to make our way back to the surface now." The boy must have sensed some of his unease. "Are you all right sir?"
Chris tried to settle his emotions. "Yes, fine Doug. I'm just a bit doped up at the moment. Get going and I'll meet you down there shortly."
"How are you going to manage that?" The question was instinctive and Chris knew Doug had not meant it to be a telepathic signal. The point was a good one however.
How am I going to get out of here?

He was still pondering this when an alarm went off in the third holo-window. The one containing Sharon. She turned to face the camera, her face a picture of professional composure. "Colonel, we have detected a tachyon burst resonance, displacement eight hundred kilograms. Range…" she stopped here, and bewildered disbelief clouded her face. "Range one thousand meters. Right above the base!"
In a moment she had regained her composure. "Colonel, permission to open fire?"
Chris struggled to maintain the calm the he suspected Dale would show in these circumstances. "Show me the object on visual scanners."
Sharon nodded and ordered a subordinate to do so. Seconds later a screen behind her displayed the object that had just resumed tard so close to the base. Unable to bring up a separate holo-window without Dale's command codes, he focused in on the screen in the command and control window. He had to stare, not just to make out the image, but to believe what his eyes were showing him. The object was pyramid shaped, open on three sides, and appeared to be carrying nine human figures strapped onto its floor. He looked again. He wasn't just imagining the spectacle, the pyramid contained a strike force consisting of the rest of C-Force and X-Force.
Moments passed as the vessel drifted down towards the base, its approach apparently slowed by repulsors. If it stayed on its current course it would land somewhere on the outside of the crater wall, west of the base.
It will if it isn't blown out of the sky.
Sharon's voice cut through his amazement. "The scan shows they are a boy attack force. Colonel we should open fire at once."
"Let them land. I want them taken alive." Chris thought it a reasonable request, and hoped Sharon would at least consider it for a few vital seconds.
Then for the first time Sharon's expression changed and she made a demand of her supposed commander. "Colonel, please show yourself on my screen."
Something, maybe his last order, must have made her suspicious of him. Then he realised that Sharon could have seen the CIC holo-cameras focus in on the display screen showing the pyramid. That would indicate he did not open a new holo-screen to display it. Something Dale would easily be able to do.
He tried to stall for more time. "I'm experiencing difficulty with my holo-system at the moment. Obey my orders Captain."
"Colonel, I must ask you for your command code." Sharon replied.
"You dare presume to question my authority?" He laced the sentence with as much malice as he could.
"I'm invoking article 37AF from the UGF command structure protocols. If you are who you say you are, give me your command code!"
Chris could see she had lost her patience for this and used his last throw of the dice. "Colonel Dale Craft, command code Alpha One."
Sharon had obviously by now expected this, he was wrong guessing Dale's code. She turned and cried out. "Open fire. Seal the base. Alert all sections to intruders. Get a squad up to the Colonel's suite immediately."
The holo-windows in front of Chris disappeared at that moment as Sharon used her own command codes to take control of the room's systems.
She left the audio from CIC on, however. "Commander Chris, surrender yourself and release Dale or you will be executed on the spot."
But Chris was no longer there to respond. He had raced over to one of the large rectangular windows that ringed the room to get a view of the pyramid. He looked out and for the first time he realised the commanding position the girl base held. In medieval times a castle in such a position would be impregnable. But the defenders of a medieval castle would not be expecting invaders to appear out of Tach in the sky above them. He hoped that a modern day base would be just as surprised. He let the girl continue threatening him as he watched the strange object glide down and land out of view behind the crater's rim. At least his ruse had bought them that much time, though he doubted whether the base's weapons systems were actually capable of hitting such a thing coming out of tach at such short range. He drew a mental line from the landing sight to the base of the tower below him.
He realised that not only was this the quickest route, it was the only one he could try now that the alarm had been raised. But he also knew that the steel-glass windows were nearly indestructible without heavy weapons or explosives. His stun-blaster and other weapons wouldn't scratch the stuff.
Chris checked his equipment pouches and utility belt for anything that might help. Finally he opened a packet of mini-mines and checked their explosive rating. He smiled and relaxed a little.
They'll do the job.
Normally he was loath to use the lethal devices, in the form of circular disks about a centimetre in diameter. They were standard issue however, and now he was glad he had brought them along. He placed one at the four corners of a one meter square section of glass, then backed away. He activated his personal shield and primed the remote detonator, then stopped and looked over towards the medi-palet. Judging the distance between Dale and the charges he knew that he would have to find some cover for her.
A sudden noise coupled with a flash of bright light turned his attention to the blast doors. He realised the girls had started slicing through it with a laser cutter. The were concentrating on a small region that contained the locking mechanism, and his inhibitor. He only had a little time before they burned through and had the door open.
Chris ran back over to the medi-palet, sparing a moment to knock over the table that had previously held his equipment. He glanced at the IV console to confirm that Dale was still unconscious, then disconnected her from the restraints and lifted her off the table. Light as she was, in his condition had almost had to drag her over to the overturned table where he crouched down behind its cover. His energy came in fits and seemed to dissipate just as quickly. He laid her down carefully, crouched down low, and reached for his detonator.
He activated it just as the cutting stopped and the blast door was thrown open.
The explosion was not as spectacular as he had expected, but from their lack of fire he assumed it had stunned the approaching girl troopers for the moment. His look over the battered table was rewarded with a view of the shattered window and the chance to escape. He reached across Dale's prone form to grab the bag of equipment, and noticed her eyes fluttering open. For the first time since meeting her she looked completely at a loss. He slung the bag over one shoulder knowing its static straps would hold it there securely. Then, to his surprise as much as Dale's, he kissed her lightly on the lips. The girl's eyes widened in surprised outrage. Chris grinned and stood up.
I'm not sure if I should blame that on the drugs. But it's certainly not going in my report!
Chris lobbed a stun grenade over in the direction of the girl troopers, then leapt up over the table and sprinted for the break in the glass. As he reached the ruined window he fired his wrist-mounted web caster at the base of the wall and leapt through it. At that same moment the grenade went off, its shock wave giving him more momentum as he cleared the window and plunged outward and downward.
The filament from the web caster, about as thick as a human hair yet incredibly strong and resilient, played out behind him at a steady rate. Enough to slow him down but not so much as the rip his arm off as it reduced his rate of descent. He turned back towards the outside of the base as the three levels that comprised this disc shaped section flashed past. Below him he could see a larger disc as he raced down towards its surface. He would have to stop there before he could go down any further. As he swung back into towards the base he stopped the web caster from releasing more webbing. The line tightened, jerking his braced arm up painfully, but changing his course so that he could swing into the large gap between the two discs.
He played out more web and hit the top of the next disc with a thump that threatened to knock the wind out of him. He cursed the fact that he could not have just webbed all the way to the ground. He used vital seconds regaining his composure and checking his vital-signs on his medical sensor. His pulse rate was pushing the limit and he forced his body to calm down. He gulped in a couple of deep breaths and slowly exhaled. This was no time to pass out again. Ahead of him blasts erupted against the outer surface of the ring as the girl troopers above him opened fire.
Maybe stopping here wasn't such a bad idea.
A warning signal from the web caster informed him that the line had been cut, so he activated the retrieval function to reel the remainder of the line back in. He then turned in the direction of the pyramid's landing site and began jogging around the top to the disc, keeping close to the inside wall which contained the lift shaft, figuring that if he could drop down to the ground from another side he would avoid the fire of the troopers above him.
As he rounded a bend he noticed an access hatch in the roof ahead of him. The locking mechanism disengaged at the same moment. He stepped off his left foot and sprinted towards the edge of the disc as the hatch opened behind him. Again firing his web caster into the metal roof beneath him he realised that if he had had just a few more seconds he could have jammed the hatch with his webbing. He still figured he was way ahead on his luck quota today and prayed for some more as he leapt off the top of the disc under a hail of blaster fire.

14. 'Teleport'

Remote Tach Platform
Hope II airspace, Hope system
1615 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Commander Millar finally released his breath as the outer frame of the teleport pyramid came to rest with a muffled thump. He realised that he had been holding it since before the thing entered tach on board the Comet. Dr Wong had been adamant that the boys should try to remember any sensations or side effects caused by using the device, to aid him in calibrating it for future re-use. Millar could recall no such unusual feelings, and his mind had been on other things since the pyramid resumed tard. They had hoped to do so within a few hundred metres of the surface of the mountain, allowing them to easily evade the base's defences before landing. Instead they had popped out more than a kilometre high, and he was yet to figure out why they had not been blasted back into atoms.
Now with the frame in contact with the outer crater surrounding the girl base, he decided to put that question aside. He flipped off his landing harness, and joined the other boys as they formed up in the rocks adjacent to a path that led up to the rim of the crater.
Lieutenant Mare and the C-Force guy Kain began setting up a portable shield generator to protect the landing site. They would remain behind to guard it while remainder of C-Force and X-Force attempted to storm the base. He smiled at that. Storm had been the word he had used during his planning session with Captain Bobby. Now that he had seen the sheer size of the base, the term seemed far less appropriate. Although perhaps technically under his command as ranking officer, Millar had decided to treat Bobby as an equal partner. By working that way and splitting into groups that contained members from both forces, they would be able to keep in telepathic contact and hopefully perform more efficiently.
With this in mind he moved into the lead position and the group moved rapidly up the path towards the light-bridge station. Maher and Bilby stationed themselves here while Jack attempted to raise the bridge. Millar stared across the open chasm separating his group from the main part of the base and nearly froze as he saw two figures in the shiny ablative armour of girl troopers. They had clearly seen him as well, one beckoned to the other and pointed over at him. Millar raised his stun-blaster before stopping abruptly.
"Don't shoot commander. Its us!" Ingo's unmistakable telepathic signature stopped Millar short of firing.
He replied in kind. "OK. Can you raise the light bridge? We have to get across and sabotage this Ion Cannon and do as much damage a possible in less than twenty minutes."
"Yes sir. We've got voice clearance for the bridge. Once it is up I'll try to isolate the control console from the rest of the system. Get across as fast as you can."
Millar sensed a growing curiosity in his friend. "What was that thing you landed in, and how did you get here in it?"
"It's a round trip ticket via tachyons from the Comet to here. We've got to get our job done and get back before it leaves without us. Now get that bridge up!"
"Doug is working on it now sir. But we've already sabotaged the Ion Cannon!"
The Light-Bridged crackled into life ahead of him as he tried to make sense of this last statement.
"You've already sabotaged the cannon? I didn't see any damage on the way down. Are you sure Ingo?"
Ingo was resolute. "Yes sir. It is a delayed reaction and won't take effect until the girls try to use the weapon again. But it is definitely out of commission Sir."
Millar nodded. "Good work Ingo. Cover us as we come over."
He was glad to see that finally the boys had come by some good fortune. He waved the rest of the group forward and began a controlled jog across the bridge. It had no railing of any kind and crossing it gave him an uneasy feeling he was being watched. By the halfway point he felt totally exposed. Knowing that less then a centimetre of energy separated him from a long trip into the misty depths of the gorge below did not help this feeling and he quickened his pace until he reached the relative safety of the Inner light-bridge station. He tallied off Mono to guard to control tower, while Bobby did the same with Boyd. The latter took over from Doug, and tried to keep the tower controls isolated from the rest of the base.
Ingo stepped forwards and gave Millar a quick telepathic burst to update him of the layout and possible make up of the opposing forces.
Millar nodded as he recognised that Doug was doing the same thing for Bobby.
He noticed Bobby eye the plasma rifle in Doug's arms then pass him one of his own stun-blasters. "Here use mine. Where is Chris?"
Doug accepted the pistol, and laid down the rifle next to Ingo. Millar guessed that he would know Ingo well enough by now to understand the boy's attraction to destructive weapons.
Doug finished by pointing up towards the pinnacle of the base above them. The other boys' eyes followed to look up at the ringed tower. Just at that moment an explosion shattered a large section of steel-glass out of a window in the middle ring.
Bobby pointed. "Let's move!"
Seconds later a familiar figure could be seen leaping from the window and down towards the larger disk below.
Millar slapped Ingo on the shoulder. "That's Chris alright. Lead the way mate."

They encountered their first resistance around the first corner in the path of the heavily landscaped garden. Doug and Ingo reported that they had disabled the lift tube terminus earlier, so Millar knew the six guards ahead must have come from inside the tower. Four were in firing positions while the other two advanced, while the boy's group of Millar, Bobby, Jack, Ingo, and Doug had let their enthusiasm get the better of them and rushed around the corner in a group. Blaster fire erupted around them and the boys sprang into the little available cover and returned fire. The two lead girls where nearly as surprised as the boys and were quickly stunned from the latter's return fire. The other four girls reacted badly to the visible effect of their weapons failing to penetrate the boys' shields, ceasing fire and staring at their weapons in disbelief. Ingo added to their confusing by blasting away at their position with his plasma rifle. This forced them back and allowed Bobby and Millar to move forward and take advantage of this shift in initiative.
The fleeing girls were quickly stunned. Yet Millar cursed. He knew that this initial skirmish would have been reported back to the other troopers who would be rushing their way, and they would be unlikely to react in the same manner.
He waved at the boys to fan out and the group proceeded more cautiously towards the base of the tower. Trampling their way through flower beds and skirting around trees, they dealt with another group of four troopers without loss. But the engagement ate up more time as the defenders put up heavy resistance. More time meant more opportunities for defenders to oppose them. Once twenty or thirty got up here, it would be just about impossible. But it seemed to Millar that the bulk of the reinforcements had to be still below the disabled lift terminus and unable to help the troopers from the tower. Taking advantage of this good fortune they soon held a position at the base of the tower.
They began shifting around its circumference, taking it in turns to cover and advance. They did not get far before Millar saw a figure leap from the lowest, and largest, disk. They boy's plunge slowed only slightly by the use of a web-caster. He expected to see troopers crowd over the edge of the disc to get a shot at Chris, but suddenly an explosion went off up there, and no one appeared to stop the boy as he descended towards them. Chris came to a crashing halt in their midst. He stood and acted like it had been a perfect landing.
"Hi there. Thanks for coming."
Despite the seriousness of the situation the other boys smiled at that. Chris grimaced as he realised he had forgotten to disengage his voice replicator. What he had just said sounded like they ravings of a very intoxicated girl.
Millar tapped his throat. "You can switch that thing off now. The time for stealth has long passed."
Chris was clearly feeling the strain too much to reply and he simply opened the backpack he carried to hand out shields and stun-blasters to Ingo and Doug. He then followed as the six of them turned to race back towards the light-bridge. Soon he was stumbling in his efforts to keep up. Doug and Bobby dropped back to support him, allowing the group to maintain a rapid pace. Millar took the lead position with Jack and Ingo taking the flanks. It was in this less that ideal formation that the boys again found themselves under attack.
Girl troops seemed to explode straight from the ground as they surfaced from what must have been service tunnels beneath the garden. This allowed them to bypass the destroyed lift terminus and appear apparently out of nowhere. Millar dropped the trooper ahead of him and spared a moment to check his defence scanner. Girls were now all around them and he spun to blast away at the closest. A shot from somewhere to his left caught him flush on the shoulder, knocking him aside and pushing his personal shield to its limit. He dropped to one knee to recover and looked over towards where Jack confronted a figure in powered armour as it emerged from the ground.
P -Troops!
He remembered from Ingo's briefing earlier that he had encountered a P-Trooper. The equipment the UN Special Forces were issued with was designed for stealth and defence. They were never intended to go up against an enemy in powered armour.
He surged up and towards his friend, knowing that they could not afford to let such a formidable opponent get clear to the surface. His realised stun wouldn't be much use against this trooper and changed the settings on his blasters to kill. He closed the gap as Jack dived forwards and rolled past the powerful clutching arms that sought to stop him. He turned and fired into the suits exposed rear leg servos, disabling them. The P-Trooper, unable to use it legs to get completely out of the tunnel, instead turned back towards the approaching Millar, and raised its heavy arm-mounted weapon.
Millar dived full out to his right and landed in a small depression. He crawled along as clumps of dirt and flowers clattered into his position, thrown up from the continued fire of the P Trooper. He kept low and followed the ground's contours as he struggled back towards the light-bridge.
"X-Force, status report."
Ingo's reply was coolly professional; a fire fight like this was the boy's idea of a good time. "Shield stable. Covering the C-Force guys as they drop mines and retreat. Everything's…" A rapid burst of plasma rifle fire and strong language issued from behind Millar, before Ingo continued. "Under control."
Jack's report came next. "Shield damaged but stable. Falling back to the bridge."
Mono reported little resistance at the Light-bridge control panel itself. Bilby had made good use of his LGM pack against some P Troopers who had appeared suddenly out of the mists, while Mare reported that the Pyramid was still clear of any girls.
At the same time as his telepathic signal he tried to get something out of C-Force via his communicator. There was no response. No luck. Must be jamming the hell out us by now.

The landscaping funnelled them back down into the main path towards the bridge. The mines C-Force had laid gave them a brief respite as the girls sought to get around or through them without setting them off. Even the repulsor equipped P-Troops would have to be wary, their repulsor fields just as capable of setting of a mine as a human foot.
He caught sight of Chris and the boy gave him a hand sign that signalled that his shield's protection had been depleted. He struggled to push himself forwards while Doug and Bobby provided covering fire.
They needed to get out here soon.
The group rounded a corner in the path and Millar nodded to Mono and Boyd who were crouched down below the to the control panel for the light-bridge.
Mono look both relieved and concerned as Millar squatted down next to him. "We've managed to hold them off from here to the teleporter. But someone has to cover these controls for the light-bridge or the next batch of girls to show up will switch it off and we'll all have a short trip to the bottom of the ravine."
Millar turned his head to see Chris breathing hard as he and the other C-Force members caught up with them. Doug turned to watch back down the path while Bobby continued on up to Boyd in the control centre.
Boyd exchanged a glance with his commander. He must have said something telepathically for Chris waved for the boy to speak aloud. The boy nodded. "Mono is right in his assessment of the situation, but I have isolated the control panel from the command centre. That should give us a few minutes."
As he said this a girl trooper attempted to come over the rise and was brought down by a precise shot from Jack. Chris gave him a nod of appreciation.
"OK, Doug and I will hold them off while the rest of you get across the bridge."
He was fixed by a number of disbelieving stares. Only Bobby did not look up. "You can't hold them off and still get across the bridge. You can barely run as it is."
Suddenly Millar heard Bilby's telepathic voice. "Commander, the control centre on this side can't be given overriding command of the light-bridge. Girls are beginning to use the other bridges to get across. If you don't get back now you'll be cut off!"
Chris grimaced. "Shit!" The C-Force agent on the other side of the bridge had obviously just informed Chris of the same thing. "We've got to go now!"
Bobby was still concentrating on what he was doing but said calmly, "I'll stay, I can hold them off."
Chris and Millar now turned to see what Bobby was doing. The boy had been tinkering with the main power coupling for the last minute and suddenly Chris realised the great risk his second was taking. He had routed the power outlet directly into his shield's power pack, bypassing a score of safety protocols on the way. But the result was that for a time at least his personal shield would protect him as effectively as those of a battle skimmer.
If it did not overload and explode.
Chris stared at him. "You mad bast..."
"You've got to go now." Bobby cut in. "We'll never make it if someone doesn't stay to hold them off. My shield will protect me until I can get across too."
His shield could not process all of this power; sparks and a slight glow attested to this. His hair stood up on his head from the effect. He looked like a madman as he turned and faced the other boys.
Chris glared at Bobby for a moment, but clearly he could see the boy was right. In his current condition he was the slowest of the group. He could not delay further if they where going to escape. Motioning for Doug to help he stood gingerly and made his way out onto the light-bridge. Bobby's overloaded shield was already visible to the naked eye. Millar knew it would not last long under that kind of strain, and signalled for Ingo, Jack, and Mono to get moving. Chris turned and gave a short nod of approval to his second in command, then started shuffling across the bridge as fast as he could go.
Immediately they came under fire from girls crossing the light-bridges on either side of them. They had to juggle returning fire with moving ahead, and so alternated between each to make some progress. Bilby opened up on the far side with his LGM, and Maher also provided covering fire. Millar was confident they should at least make it that far.

Inner Light-Bridge control 7, Girl Base
Orbit Hope II, Hope system
1630 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Bobby turned to face the pathway and made sure he had a clear field of fire. The console provided little cover but even that he disdained. He held his stun-blaster loosely in his right hand, ready to shoot at the first thing he saw. He selected the rapid-fire setting.
This is it, he thought. My one great act to prove myself to myself. His pulse raced, not from exertion but from the realisation that had hit him just as he went into tach on the teleport pyramid. It was as though the universe itself had spoken to him. It told him he had a second chance. He knew what he had to do now, ensure the safety of Chris. To sacrifice himself if necessary. He smiled at the simplicity of this command the universe had given him.
Two girls rounded the corner at that same instant and fired into his position. Phased plasma bolts slammed into his shield, the force of the impact knocking him back a step. A dozen rapid shots from his stun-blaster sent them sprawling to the ground. He knew his blaster could not keep up that rate of fire for long. It will have to be enough. He would not fail in this last test.
Three more girls appeared at the top of the rise. These did not approach but dropped to the ground to fire from their elevated positions. Bobby's shield held once more but the combined force of the hits were enough to overwhelm his inertial dampers and he was thrown back against the console. Momentarily stunned he nearly dropped his blaster before he recovered. He dived forward and rolled to the base of the rise. The girls stood to get a clear shot at him but at the same moment he lobbed a stun grenade up into their position. The thunderous blast of the grenade was followed by a silence that told him it had done its work. Bobby scrambled back to the console and looked down the length of the light-bridge. The other boys had obviously had some trouble but were now nearly across.
He started trying to jam the light-bridge controls, to give himself time to get across. He scrambled the overlay to confuse the girls. I might just be able to make this. He had four more grenades that he set to go off in five-second intervals. Taking a dozen paces forward he placed them out in a line back down the path towards the tower. As he placed the last grenade another girl charged around the corner and stumbled right into him. His shield caused her to bounce straight off and he blasted her for good measure before turning to activate the grenades.
Another shot rang out from where a P Trooper had made it to the top the rise, but this one was not aimed at him. This girl must have noticed his shield and the power cable that led back to the control console. The blast sliced through the cable and suddenly his shield felt eerily week. He did not know if it could deflect another shot from a plasma rifle, mush less the more powerful version carried by the P Trooper. That's it, I can't make it now. He heard footsteps approaching from just behind the curve in the path. In seconds it will be over. The universe seemed to mock him. He sank back and waited for the inevitable.
Then something seemed to snap inside of him. Get up! The voice rang in his head. Run. Run now! Don't make it easy for them.
The voice had the clear urgency of a telepathic message but he did not recognise it. Yet somehow he knew he had to obey it. Somehow he knew it was his own voice.
He looked down at the grenade and saw the countdown had reached four. Less than a second had passed. He sprang up, infused with the desire to get away. He ran and ran, heedless of the blasts echoing all around him. He knew that the grenades must be exploding by now, but all he could hear was the blood pounding in his veins and his own gasping breaths. He sprinted onto the light-bridge and down its length. On the far side he could see the rest of the boys giving him covering fire. Chris was shouting but he could not make out what he was saying. A blast penetrated his shield and grazed his ribs. The lancing agony just made him run even faster until he could see his friends' eyes willing him onwards. A scant ten meters separated them.
He prepared to jump.
Just then the light-bridge disappeared. Bobby flew forwards, arms and legs spinning, but fell well short of the far side. He sensed a web-caster being fired but knew it must have missed as he clattered into the ravine wall and down into its misty depths.

Outer Light-Bridge station 7, Girl Base
Hope II, Hope system
1632 hours GMT 2079-May-4

"No!" Chris lowered his arm, ignoring the stream of web line that drifted to the ground in front of him. He stood staring out into the ravine and began searching for a way down. Millar grabbed him by the arm. "We've got to go, there's no time."
"But he's still alive. I know it!" Chris shouted.
"We can't reach him now, but we have to get back to the teleporter before it returns to the Comet."
Chris stopped short. He looked dazed and said quietly, "Yes, the teleporter, right."
"We've got to go sir." Boyd said apologetically, pointing to a knot of girls milling around the light bridge inner control panel.
Shaking his head Chris began to stagger down the path towards the teleporter. Millar was glad that they had not landed any further away. Boyd and Doug each took an arm and helped him move faster.
As they entered the pyramid framed teleporter Millar saw fighters lifting up out of the ravine. With misty tendrils clinging to their wings, their likeness to spiders was never more apparent. The arachnid ships were soon speeding towards them.
"Here goes." Millar said and hit the recall button. Instantaneously the boys vanished into tach space.

15. 'Battle Plans'

Tachyon Room, UNHCV Comet
Hope II, Hope system
1650 hours GMT 2079-May-4

The boys resumed tard in the tachyon room of the Comet just as Dr Wong was taking a sip of lukewarm coffee. This he sprayed over the floor. "You're early!" he spluttered.
"We didn't feel much like sticking around another two minutes thanks Doctor." Millar said. He stepped around the spilt coffee and headed for the corridor. The others followed him in silence.
"Wait! I need to examine you and get feed back on the experiment." Wong said to empty air as the boys disappeared out of the room almost as fast as they had returned.

Chris made a detour via the medfac to have his system detoxified. As his system cleared his worry for Bobby become more, not less, intense. He flexed his arm as the jumble of drugs was flushed out of his body. He hated leaving the boy down on the planet, but even now his system had been fully refreshed, he was unable to think of an alternative. Before they teleported Chris could sense the boy was still alive, he had to trust that he could keep it that way until the ensuing battle was won.

Soon the two Special Forces Units, minus Ingo for some reason, had reconvened in the briefing room with Captain Morris and his staff.
"Good to have you back boys." He beamed. "I hope you were able to take out that Ion Cannon."
All eyes turned to Chris and he looked back confidently. "Look, I know I was under the influence down there but I'm sure my plan will work. Besides, Bobby is still down there. This way he has a better chance of getting out alive."
"Exactly what is this plan, commander?"
"Well you're going to have to dodge their first shot. But the second one is going to blow up in their faces."
Morris cleared his throat. "I see. Well, we will have to proceed on that basis then. Though I hope you have a few more details for me." He looked towards his XO. "What news on the Barbarella?"
Patterson straightened. "Nothing definite, she's a lot harder to spot than we are. The planet and the moons occlude most of the surrounding space from our sensors, and our spy satellites are optimised for ground scanning."
"What's your best guess?" Morris asked.
"Extrapolating from where she resumed tard, I'd say she's hiding behind one of the moons. They can communicate with the surface of the planet from there and they are close enough to launch an attack; but too far for us to risk investigating."
Morris shifted his gaze to Chris. "Three hundred fighters on the Barbarella. How many on the ground Commander?"
Chris thought back to his rushed analysis of the girl base' files, only a few minutes ago but it seemed like hours. "Another three hundred. Minus a few that have been modified for atmospheric flight. Even if they attempt to remove the modifications, they shouldn't have those ready in time."
Morris weighed up the numbers. "Even without the ion cannon, six hundred odd fighters at such close range will be a tough assignment."
Chris tried to be reassuring. "Millar told me about your trick with the engine emissions. When we fire our engines ahead of schedule, they won't just launch their fighters. They'll fire that cannon as soon as our course brings us within range. That's the risky part, in order for the plan to work we have to let them take a shot at us, and we have to dodge it. I'm confident you can do that Captain."
Morris grinned. "Thanks very much commander. But I see your point."
Chris continued. "Sometime after that Doug and Ingo's little adjustments will cause an overload that will unleash an ion cannon blast into the base itself. That will knock out most of the base. The girls use a single, powerful, transmitter to command the fighters, the blast will eliminate that as well. We might even disable some of the fighters as well before they launch." He shrugged and shook his head slightly. "Although the fighter bays are probably too far away for us to hope many will be effected."
Morris took over from there. "OK so the plan is; we go on full burn and take the Comet out of orbit and as far away as possible, allowing our current momentum to eventually bring us within the firing arc of the Ion Cannon. On its second shot the Ion Cannon fails and that will take care of the base for a while. Then we'll have to deal with the Barbarella, her fighters, and the surviving fighters from the surface."
"I don't think we'll have to face the girl carrier directly sirs." Mono began. "Whatever modifications they made to carry so many fighters will probably have reduced its offensive capability. Any guns she has will be defensive. If we can hold off the fighters, She'll run."
Patterson spoke up. "I know I'm always the voice of doom but why not leave orbit in a direct line? We're on the other side of the planet, they can't possibly hit us with the Ion Cannon."
Millar answered quickly. "That's the point Patterson. If we go now, we'll still have six hundred fighters to face, and no short-term way to attack that base. Eventually they'll discover and fix the sabotage and then we'll never get them."
Boyd spoke up. "Actually, the XO might have a point, of sorts. We know the girls have the atmospheric interdiction around the whole of the planet, can we be sure whatever technique accomplishes that will not allow them to fire the Ion Cannon at us here?"
Chris tried not to notice a room full of eyes turn back towards him. "Good question, but I saw nothing in the schematics to suggest that capability." He looked back at the Captain. "It's your call sir."
Morris' eyebrows lifted slightly, as if to imply that of course it was his call. Presently he nodded. "It's our best hope, plus I'm sure that they would already have had a shot at us by now if they could." He stood and gestured to three boys who up until now had been silent.
"I'll leave the co-ordination of the fighter defence up to my wing commanders, the Flight Group Commander and you Special Forces guys. You've got ten minutes before course correction. We can expect to be attacked not long after that."
Chris stepped up to the lectern as the Captain and his XO left the room. "I've reviewed the telemetry from our previous encounters with the girl fighters. And now I know how the girls control them. That gives us a few advantages. But remember they know practically everything about us and how we fight. But I'm betting they won't have adjusted their plans to include our use of the prototype fighters we stole. I'd like to have them disbursed throughout the fighter wings as command ships."
The flight group commander, Colonel Cameron Johns, shook his head emphatically. "There is no way we have time to train the pilots to adapt to that. I've seen the specs on your new fighters, they can do the job, but my boys are used to the chain of command, the way they've been trained to fight."
Chris gave a slight grimace and looked over to Millar for support. The boy shook his head just slightly and Chris nodded. "I can accept that Colonel. You know your boys better than we do. How do you think we can best help?"
"Well if each of your Special Forces puts out a full compliment of these new fighters, they'd be worth at least a flight each. I'd like them to sit behind the front line and wait for breakthroughs or other emergencies."
"We can do that, but I'm sure Commander Chris will join me in requesting authority to chose our targets as we see fit." Millar said.
"We'll listen to any advice you give of course." Chris added.
Johns nodded. "Fair enough. As for deployment, I think a standard screen with the planet side reinforced and a double presence facing the moons."
"OK, but do you think that will be enough to hold off up to six hundred fighters?" Millar said.
"We don't know which direction at least three hundred are coming from. It should be hard for the girls to co-ordinate their attack with all the trouble you've sewn at their base. Most of picket drones will deploy behind the Comet as we leaves orbit. This way we keep the most likely attack corridors covered and have you and our reserve wing for emergencies."
"It's a plan." Chris said.
"And we've still got some time left." Millar agreed.
"There's one more thing." Boyd said.
Everyone turned to face the diminutive C-Force agent. "We haven't discussed how the girl fighters will behave once the fighter control centre has been neutralised. Kain and I have been reviewing the log from the battle of Earth and come to some disturbing conclusions." He looked over to Kain to continue. The boy removed a PDA from his wrist and plugged it into the console, then uploaded the data into the holo-screen. Squaring his shoulders, the boy spoke softly.
"From what we've seen and what Commander Chris has learnt we know that the fighters do not rely completely on orders from a central command. Once the source of the transmission is removed, how will they behave? It would be natural to think they can handle manoeuvring and fighting by themselves, and we have some proof of this. Probably the best course is to put as much distance as we can between them and us. Without the base's scanning stations they will have to be lucky to find the Comet. That much is obvious but I believe the fighter's intelligence is more complicated. The telemetry from our skirmish with two flights shows that the ships were in constant communication with each other. We are not sure of the content of this communication, but I believe it indicated that each ship shares the processing power of the others within range of it. Together the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. In short, enough of these fighters in the same place would form a neural network capable of extremely sophisticated intelligence. I believe this and not sheer weight of numbers was the downfall of our carriers at Earth. They were out numbered four to one, and although surprised, should have done better against a force unsupported by ships of the line. Yet they were slaughtered. Here we are outnumbered two to one, and they have a ship of the line in support."
Kain cleared his throat, finishing his speech.
"Well that's a lot to take in…" One of the wing commanders started.
"I suggest you inform your flight crews of this danger. They can add it to the other things we know about these fighters." Johns said.
Chris could sense a lowering of morale. He turned to Kain and Boyd. "That's good research boys, but remember we are going to knock out that base. That'll give those fighters some trouble, neural net or not. We're ready for a fight and we've got a good plan."
"Well I suggest then that you get to your ships. We will brief the rest of the pilots." Johns said.

Millar sat opposite from Chris in the front of the compact transport car, accessing some files on his datapad. Chris leaned forward. "I didn't have time to mention it before but thanks for the rescue."
Millar looked up at him. "Just part of the mission, really. There was that ion cannon to destroy and my own man to rescue."
Chris nodded. "Yeah, Ingo. He did well. Doug says he was very professional. A bit prone to gratuitous violence, but professional."
Millar replied. "Prone to violence he may be, but he has a head on his shoulders. Look what he has come up with for our fighters."
He handed over his datapad to Chris. The pad contained the schematics for one of the weapons used on the two module FLI missile ships.

Hellfire Launchers
Yield: High
Targeting: Line of sight
Guidance: Dumb fire
Maximum Effective Range: 4km
Rounds: 10

Summary: Requiring a type II hardpoint mount these weapon pods fire unguided projectiles of super heated plasma. Very destructive at close range and the ideal weapon for finishing off a damaged enemy fighter, they are practically useless for combat beyond visual range.

Chris frowned. "These require a type II, that would mean committing one of our missile braces just to be able to fire ten of these things. That's not much of a payoff."
Millar leaned forward and tapped a key on the pad. The schematic changed to show how a modified pod could be stored within the missile brace along with any other missile.
"See, this way we can switch from Hellfire to missile and back again. The best of both worlds."
Chris smiled. He could see that they had come up with a very good idea. Ingo must have been working on this since they had first arrived on the Comet.
"That's damn good work. How long before they are ready?"
"Ingo is working on them right now with a few techs. They'll be ready in time. We might even be able to spare some for you." Millar grinned impishly.
"Thanks a lot. That's two I owe you." Chris finished.

Outside Fighter bay entrance 7, Girl Base
Orbit Hope II, Hope system
1700 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Bobby regained consciousness in a crag at the bottom of the ravine in time to see fighters descending from the opening at the top. After a moment of panic he saw they were not looking for him. Must be returning to their hangars.
He shook his head to clear it, and a dull ache settled in behind his eyes. His overcharged shield had protected him from most of the damage from the fall, but it had burnt out now. Still he was able to identify several cracked ribs and on closer identification, a fractured left forearm. Nothing that his plague-enhanced body would not fix on its own in a few days, but also nothing that helped his worsening mood. What was wrong with me back there? No answer came, but he could tell something had changed. He no longer felt gripped by a manic desire to sacrifice himself for the rest of the group. Though it's a bit late to change my mind on that now.
He looked around and realised had lost his stunblaster somewhere during the fall. Checking the time he knew that the teleporter must have gone, or been destroyed, by now. Certainly the other boys were not with in TP range. He pulled out another blaster from a holster under his battle jacket and ensured its power level was full. This one did not have a stun function.
That suits me just fine.
He holstered the weapon on his hip and detached a hype pack from his belt. He administered some pain suppressant from the pack. Then, being careful to remain as hidden as possible, he crawled up out of the cleft he had landed in and began making his way towards where he had last seen the girl fighters.
Minutes passed as he struggled through the soft, dry clay around him. He decided that this part of the mountain must be part of a natural formation, for the undulating terrain provided too many places of concealment for anything the girls might have constructed for themselves.
He slowly approached the top of a rise in the canyon floor, making very sure that no part of his body could be seen from the other side. When he got as close as he dared he stopped to scan for enemy security sensors. He found several and nodded to himself as he considered how to evade them. Thermal imagers he should be able to handle. His clothes had already adjusted to his terrain and he was half covered in the same dirt that formed the canyon floor besides. He should be practically invisible to visual cameras, or anyone that happened to be looking his way. Then he detected a third system was present, and in a few seconds he realised it was an inertial displacement sensor. That'll be hard to beat; guess the girls really don't want anyone sneaking in down here.
He extended a tiny camera attached to an extending cable over the top of the rise to see what was out there. He was reasonably confident it would be too small for the inertial displacement sensor to detect. Directly ahead of him gaped the open landing bay. Within the hanger he saw a vast number of ships being prepared for launch. The gleaming interior was spotless, betraying the presence of some form of shield over the bay's entranced which prevent dust from the outside getting in. Then with a sudden shock he realised that this was also a launch bay. Immediately fighters began to storm out of the opening, the dirt kicked up in their wake covering him.
Driven half mad by the noise of the speeding fighters, Bobby never the less knew that they provided the perfect cover for him to get back into the base. The IDS has got no chance of spotting me if I can get in while their ships are launching. He crawled as quickly as he could over the rise and down towards the launch bay. The air was full of swirling dust, and he was forced to put on a breathing filter and ear plugs. These acted in the opposite manner of a hearing aid, they ensured that noise above a dangerous level would be filtered out, while allowing noise at a lower intensity to be heard normally.
Again time seemed frozen as he struggled almost blindly to make his way up to the launch bay entrance, but Bobby felt a calm assurance that he would soon be through it to the other side. Just then his hand touched metal. He realised that the ground sloped up to meet the bay at this point, and pulled himself up the outer lip and on towards the smooth interior. He felt a slight tingling as his body passed through the static shield and knew that it would be set to a minimal level while the fighters were launching.
The bay's wall was only a few meters thick and in seconds he had dropped to the floor on the other side and the cavernous hanger lay before him. All manner of automated machinery prepped and loaded the armada of fighters ahead of him. He made his way among them carefully. Staying close to their whirring artificial arms to throw off the security system, but not so close that he became another piece of ordinance to be loaded onto a fighter.
Ahead of him he saw what looked like the entrance to a lift shaft and changed course in that direction. He approached the doors cautiously and then ducked behind a huge loading arm as he saw that a transport car was approaching. He peered out around the machinery as the car arrived.
The lift doors opened and three figures strode out, the first being flanked by the other two. All three wore black flight suits, the leader carried her helmet by her side, while the other two had theirs on already. The leader had short blonde hair and pale features, which twisted in derision as her wrist communicator caught her attention. She spoke tersely into the communicator and Bobby tried to make out what she was saying. The machinery surrounding him made it too difficult for him the catch everything, but fortunately the girl must have become impatient with whoever she was talking to, for she turned and activated a screen imbedded in the wall so she could see her. Soon he found he could follow what was being said.
The figure in the screen wore captains bars, and had a wide eyed expression as she addressed her commander.
"Governor Dale, I strongly advise against your going up with the fighters, the boy carrier will soon be neutralised, and you will be subjecting yourself to unnecessary risk."
Dale waved a hand at the screen as if to brush away the girl's concern. "If the Comet stays within the Ion Cannon's firing arc then shoot it down. If not then we'll have to rely on our fighters. I want to be out there to make sure it is done right."
The Captain pressed on. "What about the boys who just attacked our base? It is possible some of them were left behind to try and sabotage us."
Dale nodded. "A valid point. Initiate a full lock down on the transport tubes and access hatches. Once our fighters have launched run diagnostics on all primary systems."
With that she closed the channel to her subordinate and swept over to a ramp that led up to an array of modules. Flanked by her two silent companions, she stepped in to the first module and a hatch closed around her. The spherical compartment then shunted forward before being lifted up to a waiting fighter. As Bobby watched, the module, which he now realised was a cockpit, was attached by docking clamps to the front of the ship between its outstretched laser emitters. The two other girls got in to separate cockpit spheres behind Dale. Soon they too were attached to fighter craft. Bobby looked across to the lift and saw that it had already been deactivated, there was no way out of the launch bay now. Only fighters can get out.

Bridge, UNHCV Comet
Hope II, Hope system
1720 hours GMT 2079-May-4

"We are over the tangent point now sir." Moore announced from the navigation station.
Morris stood and leaned on the railing, staring at the holographic projection of the planet in front of him. "Engage inertial dampers, thrusters at seventy percent. Course Zero-Two-Five. Get us out of here ensign."
"Aye Captain. Inertial Dampers on-line, ion thrusters at seventy. Steer Zero-Two-Five." Moore replied formally
Morris could feel himself sinking into his boots as the inertial dampers increased the gravity in the ship, and the thrusters began to force it away from the planet. He held himself erect, hands folded neatly behind his back, and tried not to brace himself for the attack that if it came would spell their doom.
Seconds passed and the planet began to recede from view. No Ion Cannon attack came from the surface. It seemed the weapon truly was limited to line of sight firing. A minute more passed and there was still no sign of an attack. Phase one of the plan seemed a success.
Morris cleared his throat and directed his voice towards Ensign Moore. "Steady as she goes Navigation." Then he looked to the CDO. "Multi-range scan for enemy ships." And finally to the flight officer. "Prepare to launch fighters."
Yet another minute passed. "Launch fighter screen."
The tactical radar scan lit up with the traces of the FLI fighters being launched. Three flight decks, each with ten launch bays could deploy thirty fighters every two minutes, or more in an emergency. As the number of blips mounted, Morris could sense a relaxation in the tension around him, carrier crews always felt safer behind their fighter screen. Finally the screen was in position and Morris ordered that battle shields be raised. The bridge was silent. He knew that this was the calm before the storm.
That lasted about ten seconds. Scan coughed then announced calmly, "Captain, multiple signals. Many fighters launching from the surface. They have cleared the atmosphere. Range seventy grids"
Morris nodded. "Increase thrusters to one hundred percent."
"Aye Captain. Ion thrusters to one hundred."
"Give me exact numbers Scan."
The CDO spent a moment confirming his figures. "Two hundred and fifty fighters. Emission signatures indicate parity with the robot spider configuration as encountered on Earth."
Patterson leaned in towards his Captain. "Spiders and FLIs. I wonder if that's some kind of girl joke?"
Morris turned to his executive officer. "It's up our fighters now. If they can hold off the enemy until we are far enough out, we'll be able to use the nukes against them and even the odds."

FLI Leader A1, UNHCV Comet
Aerospace Superiority Mission, Hope system
1730 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Colonel Johns sat patiently in the cockpit section of his fighter as it travelled down the gantry towards the brace section. The cockpit slapped into place within an FLI module, a command brace already secured around it. The ship shifted slightly as two more FLI modules, pilots aboard, were inserted into their position in the brace. In this configuration, the ship had long range scanning and targeting capability, as well as the ability to tactically direct a squadron of fighters. That was the advantage of the UNM Fighter Command's doctrine of flexible fighter construction.
A carrier like the Comet has three hundred FLI modules aboard. It can choose from a number of configurations in which to deploy them. Other configurations include a two-module long-range missile ship, and a two-module bomber, which could be optimised for ground attack or to eliminate enemy line ships. A heavy bomber using three modules was also available, but had lost favour due to recent advances in missile technology. The single module fighter requires no brace and has speed, manoeuvrability, and short range fire power, but lacks processing power and long range scanning ability. Its main purpose is to eliminate enemy fighters at close range, and escort the command vessels and other configurations.
The ship lurched forwards and continued down the launch tunnel until it was locked into place in a fighter accelerator bay. Each of the carriers three flight decks has ten launch tunnels and accelerator bays. Johns reviewed again the way he had deployed his ships.
Firstly, two waves of remote operated drones would be deployed in the Comet's wake. Once these had been launched, the fighters would join them. The two hundred modules in the defensive screen had been broken down into five squadrons. Each consisted of a command ship, six missile fighters, and twenty-five single module fighters. Two of these squadrons would be deployed towards the most likely attack corridor from the planet. The other three would be stationed to block an attack originating from any of the planet's three moons, since these were the most likely places where the Barbarella was hiding. Fortunately, two of the moons were quite far away from the planet in relation to the Comet. This would allow the squadrons guarding them to lend a hand if the Barbarella did not launch an attack from that direction. The remaining one hundred pilots would wait in their modules until it was time to commit them to the battle. Refuelling and Search and Rescue (SAR) shuttles also stood by. The Flight Group Commander gave a satisfied nod. They were ready.
Watching the Comet's position on his scanner, he saw that it was nearly the time to launch, and flinched slightly. It had been sometime since his last combat mission. He had not fought in one this big for decades. Unfortunately, some of his pilots were still suffering from the effects of travelling in Tach space, so he had drafted anyone who could fly, himself included.
Do I still have what it takes?
Then he noticed the three launch alert lights go from green to red. Too late to worry about it now, he realised. Acceleration pushed him back into his seat as the catapult threw his ship down the last section of the launch tunnel and into space. The inertial dampers kept the force below anything that could be dangerous, but the sensation gave him a thrill of adrenaline. A second later his fighter was clear of the Comet and under his own guidance. He activated the 'good shot' signal to let the carrier know he had launched successfully. He soon received the confirmation from flight control, and his concentration turned to his fighter squadrons.
The ship's tactical panel lit up with blips representing the other fighters as they were launched. His own squadron were highlighted and presented with a status summary including targeting, damage control, and vector information. Seconds later the first ten ships became twenty, soon they would be thirty, then forty. A light on the dashboard flashed, indicating the Comet was downloading scanning data. Enemy ships had been detected. Two hundred and fifty strong. Now it was time to earn his pay.

Technical Addendum

They say that in space no one can hear you scream. Well it is also true that in space no one can hear you shoot. Pre-cataclysm twodee's were full of noisy battles that simply could not exist in the empty vacuum of the void. However, sophisticated and personalised sound effects systems have been found to speed up pilot reaction times in combat. Various sounds have different effects on pilots, so each has his own personal set downloaded before launching. These report such things as laser blasts, missiles approaching, hits, encroaching enemies as well as more mundane warnings. A surround sound system embedded in the helmet provides spatial references for all these. Some pilots insist such compilations have reached the level of an art form. Others are happy to settle for the default settings provided by the UNM. Most use a combination, gradually phasing out defaults for sounds they have found to work better, or consider more appropriate.

15. 'Battle'

X-Force fighter X-1,
Aerospace Superiority Mission, Hope system
1745 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Commander Millar lounged comfortably in the pilot's seat of his fighter. The powered down engines behind him ticked over almost inaudibly as he studied the tactical schema on his helmet's heads up display. The virtual reality system in his helmet gave the illusion of flying alone in open space, the cockpit and the rest of his ship a mere translucent frame projected around him.
Overlaid onto the starry background were scores of coloured blips. Some of these represented groups of fighters, blue dots for X-Force ships, Yellow for C-Force, Green for FLI fighters, and Red for the enemy robot fighters. White dots formed a steady pattern around him, these represent the picket drones deployed by the Comet as it attempted to break free from the planet's gravity to screen the enemy fighters. Deployed in two waves, the drones provided redundant scanning facilities that could be accessed by the Carrier or any of its fighters.
Even now Millar was making use of one rather than his own scanners to make detection by the enemy more difficult. The drones were also supplied with a short range x-ray laser cannon and could, when their position was compromised, be detonated via a thermonuclear explosion with the idea of destroying enemy ships caught in the blast radius or disabling them with the resulting electromagnetic pulse.
He chuckled quietly to himself. "Wouldn't want to be around one when that happens."
Of course the drones would not detonate as long as allied ships were within range. Once they formed up the girl ships would have to advance around them, thereby gaining the Comet vital time to manoeuvre into deeper space. Being ground based fighters he knew they would not have their own drone pickets to deploy.
The Comet itself was represented by a larger white dot that was moving steadily away behind him as he drifted. By concentrating on these blips the computer would sense his attention and project an expanded view describing the objects in more detail and, when close enough, use enhanced visual images. Using his force powers Millar could sense the data straight from the helmet's processing centres, giving him an advantage of several milliseconds on a normal pilot.
Not that the ships they were facing actually had pilots. And although they had dealt with two flights of the ships reasonably easily back at Earth, he wondered just how tough they would prove to be when faced in such numbers. He checked to ensure that the other five ships of X-Force were in position.

C-Force fighter C-8,
Aerospace Superiority Mission, Hope system
1745 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Much like his fellow force unit commander, Chris watched the opening moves of the battle take place before him. Having previously agreed with Millar that their two forces should hang back from the front lines and be ready to plug any gaps in the line, he had formed up the five C-Force ships well behind the FLI squadrons guarding the approach from Hope II's two closest moons. Suddenly several of the white dots on his HUD flared into brilliance. Reflex alone brought him to tighten his grip on the joystick.
The battle had started.
Long seconds passed before he was informed that enemy skipper torpedoes had attempted to pass through the screen of picket drones. Several of these detonated to prevent the torpedoes getting through, while some of the torpedoes appeared to have actually targeted the drones themselves. If so this was an awfully expensive strategy, the skipper torpedoes, large, fast, and difficult to detect, were much more expensive weapons than the drones. Chris wondered if this was some kind of error or did the girls have so many of the weapons that they didn't care about using them on drones. There where still plenty of pickets remaining in the screen to hold the approaching mass of fighters at bay for a while.
Two hundred and fifty of them.
The number bothered him. Not because it more than matched what the Comet had launched to defend itself, but because it didn't seem to be quite enough. Earlier in the day he had seen five ships modified for atmospheric flight. He estimated that those ships plus the heavier gunship would have formed one of maybe two or three flights dedicated to ground and air fighting for the girl base. But if there were only two hundred and fifty fighters approaching, and he knew they had three hundred in total, that meant fifty ships were still on the ground.
Perhaps they were being held in reserve, or maybe they had been down checked and were unable to fight. He discounted both possibilities though. The first because he knew this was going to be a fight of sheer numbers, and that was where the girls had the advantage. As the battle drew away further and further from the planet, the remaining thirty or so fighters would be too far away to help if they were needed. And the girls knew that the boy's fighters could not attack the planet directly, so a fighter defence in addition to the atmospheric ships was not required. It was possible for one or two ships to have been down checked, but in this age of nano-repairs only extreme negligence would allow for anything more. Without the need to accommodate pilots aboard them the safety tolerances would be much higher.
No, whichever way he looked at it, the girls had upwards of thirty ships unaccounted for. Three flights, not much in the scale of this battle, but if they could somehow appear at the right place at the right time when the boys defences were stretched, perhaps armed with anti-capital ship warheads. That might prove devastating.
"Listen up boys we might have a problem. Now how would I approach if I was trying to sneak up on the Comet."
"You tell me sir." Boyd replied.
Chris continued. "Lets say I have stealth anti radar technology. That works best when approaching the radar head on, so I'd try to come in on the same plane of motion as the Comet."
"Yeah but we've got all those drones out there with their own radar systems. They'd just pick you up and relay their signal to the Comet." Maher announced.
Chris looked at the remaining white dots on his tactical scanner. With some destroyed there would be gaps in their viewing areas at some points while the remainder shifted around to fill them. While that happened there would also be points where drones would block the views of other drones.
Doug added his two cents. "That's just one thing. What about the thermal emissions?"
Chris nodded to himself. "True, but with the atmospheric interdiction still going we can't detect anything until they get into orbit. If they kept in close formation they could have hidden behind the rest of the fighters that are giving off all kinds of emissions as they chase us."
"But then we'd get them wouldn't we?" Maher asked.
Boyd sounded thoughtful. "Theoretically there are a number of ways to direct heat away from scanning sources to hide from them. Some of which are even possible."
"Overlay all the scanning paths, both active and passive."
Chris looked at the projected radar shadow. Damn. There was a gap. Between the lead FLI modules and the remaining drones. Not large but enough to get two or three flights of fighters through before the drones could have realigned themselves to cover the area again. They couldn't be normal robot fighters though, their emissions would still be detectable eventually. Something else then, something pretty damn good.
Chris heard several groans as he forwarded this scanning data to the rest of his team. He hoped they agreed with him now.
"OK we're going to go after them. Set Course One-five-Zero, cruising speed only. I'm going to make it look like we're heading to reinforce the squadron covering IIa. Keep your eyes open, but don't look like you're keeping your eyes open. I don't want the girls to know we've figured them out."
"If we've figured them out." Maher grumbled.
Chris ignored the comment and signalled the Comet with this intelligence, then brought his ship around. The other C-Force ships followed in silence.

Bridge, UNHCV Comet
Leaving Hope II orbit, Hope system
1755 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Morris gripped the console tightly as he surveyed his personal battle summary from the tactical scan. Ahead of him a holographic representation of the Comet and its immediate threats seemed to hang in the air over the bridge. Already they had lost several picket drones, but no torpedoes had made it through. Any that did would present him with a dilemma, whether to send some of his fighter reserves to taken them out, or to hold the fighters back and rely on the Comet's onboard weaponry to avert the danger. He pushed that concern away as he looked back towards the mass of robot fighters closing in on their picket lines. The bulk of the drones were there, along with two full squadrons of fighters, they had to hold.
The CDO spoke tersely. "Tracking energy projectile. Range sixty five, bearing Zero-Seven-Nine, inclination five degrees. Impact in two-two seconds, mark."
"Declination fifteen degrees." Morris said calmly. "Thrusters to One-One-Zero."
"Aye Captain."
Morris watched the icon flash across the display towards his ship. "CDO, stand by."
He nodded briskly, but spared an instant to raise one eye brow in curiosity. "Captain."
"Impact in ten seconds."
"Five seconds."
Morris thought back to the last time they had been hit, the way the projectile seemed to bore right through their shields. Almost like igniting a match in a liquid fuel source.
"Drop shields, now!" Morris ordered.
The CDO responded without a hint of hesitation.
The projectile passed through the optimal point for detonation, before a spume of plasma vented from one side. A manual course change Morris guessed. The weapon's path bent back in towards the Comet, but still over shot slightly before detonating, causing the plasma spill out harmlessly into space.
"How did you know?" Patterson asked.
"The projectile has some steering capability, and last time it corrected itself on impact with the shield. I wondered what it would do if there was no shield and, since it was no good to us anyway, I figured it was worth a try."
They both grinned and turned back to the tactical display. Though in a sense they had just achieved a victory, the real battle was only just about to start. Suddenly the figures representing the enemy fighters began changing rapidly, indicating a rapid increase in acceleration. He tried to make sense of what he was seeing as the figures spun upwards in a blur, indicating speeds that should have been impossible to achieve so quickly. In seconds his summary screen had calculated that only one hundred of the enemy ships had experienced this burst of acceleration, the remainder were still approaching at a more conventional rate.
Soon he could see that ahead of the swarm an advance group was bearing directly in on the picket drones. Immediately he saw their aim, and knew that this first stage of the battle had been lost.

FLI Leader A1, UNHCV Comet
Aerospace Superiority Mission, Hope system
1730 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Cameron Johns watched as the carefully arranged defence lines fell apart in front of him. The robot ships, heedless of losses and possessed of incredibly acceleration, had simply advanced straight into the picket lines. Each ship destroyed meant the loss of several drones, but it was the not the ratio that was killing them; it was the location and the speed at which it had happened. For the loss of maybe twenty fighters, the girls had overrun the forward position.
FLI fighter modules scattered to every side, several destroyed in an attempt the give the missile ships time to fall back. The robots poured through the gap and to his horror he saw that the were pointed like an arrow, straight towards him. It was at that moment that he realised that decades of development in fighter tactics had actually been used against them. Their predictable defence had been fully exploited. He signalled a broadcast. "All ships, fall back as best you can to the second line. I'm passing command to Colonel Cuneen."
He reckoned he had a little time to get off a few missiles guided by the superior targeting system of the command module. He knew that his crews' only chance to escape was to jettison the heavy command brace and fight their way back to the second line in their FLI modules. One last glance at the command scanner was enough to tell him that their chances were slim at best. The scanner painter a pair of robot ships and he fired two Mark V radar guided missiles. As the two weapons accelerated away he spoke into the internal comm set.
"We've got no chance in this crate once it gets to short range. You guys can try and make it back to the second line or follow me forwards."
"We're with you sir."
He nodded gratefully, then activated the emergency separation sequence.

Bridge, UNHCV Comet
Leaving Hope II orbit, Hope system
1810 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Morris watched as Lt. Colonel Cuneen, Johns's second in command, pulled in the squadrons covering the approaches from IIa and IIb. It would leave those routes undefended but they should converge in time to meet the girl onslaught on the second picket line. That was by far the greater concern at this stage, and he was content to let Cuneen have a free reign. He noted that the boy was also trying to pull back the remaining picket drones from the first line. Drones weren't made for speed, and there was not much chance of them arriving in time to help. He hoped Cuneen wasn't relying on them.
He now wished he had taken a greater role in planning the fighter defence. He knew he could still reassign fighter command at this stage, and was tempted to try and do so from the bridge. He also knew his boys had enough trouble out there already. The Colonel would be given his chance.
He felt the need of a bit more protection though. "I want a patrol squadron of twenty FLIs launched to give us some more cover. Order them to range out to twenty grids, but they're to follow us, not get drawn into the battle."

X-Force fighter X-1,
Aerospace Superiority Mission, Hope system
1815 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Millar watched the approaching fighters with a mixture of excitement and dread. Ahead of him the scattered 1st and 2nd squadrons struggled to maintain some kind of order as they tried to fall back. Fortunately for the pilots of those ships the robot craft paid them little attention. Although several flights had detached from the main group to keep them honest, the remainder were pushing through to their objective.
Right here.
The 3rd and 4th squadrons were behind him, still in good order but not yet close enough to help. Even further out, C-Force were dragging the chain for some reason. Well that couldn't be helped. Millar knew that now it was up the six ships of X-Force to hold the second line until reinforcements arrived. If the lead robots forced them back from this position, the main body of girl ships would be able to clobber them when they arrived, reinforcements or no.
Fortunately, he had a plan. He doubted the enemy ships were yet aware of X-force's presence, situated as they were each right on top of a picket drone. Using the drones scanning systems, not giving themselves away by using their own.
The lead robot fighters were now within enhanced visual range. Their emissions were different from what the boys had encountered previously. Along with the usual weapons, engines and shields, some sort of powerful booster engine had been added to the mix.
It seemed that they planned to overrun the second picket line as they had the first, by sending in a first wave to shoot or ram their way through. These would clear the way for the other advance ships, who in turn would prepare a route for the hundred and fifty ships which formed the main force following with more conventional propulsion systems.
The lead ships were expecting, or was it more accurate to say their controllers would be expecting, to face laser fire from the drones. Instead they would get precisely guided missiles from X-Force. He waited a few more seconds, then gave the order.
"Fire!"
Missiles streaked out from each side of the boy's ships. The closing speed with their targets gave those ships little chance to manoeuvre or engage counter measures. Twelve shots translated to twelve hits. His scanner confirmed eight kills.
The bulk of the advance force now came into range as the boys let off another volley. The robots rushed on en mass, clearly their artificial intelligence had now registered their presence and knew that with them there it was safe to approach the picket drones.
Millar thought he could count on another volley before they would have to move. They would need to pick up some speed before engaging the girl fighters at close range. As the new missile salvo was launched he mentally allocated another sixteen or so kills before he grunted in disappointment. Ahead of him the volley of missiles seemed to converge on only a handful of the enemy ships. Clearly the girls had more surprises left for them. Reacting quickly the nearest enemy ships used their counter measures systems in much the same way as the boys had used their fighters on autopilot back at Earth. Drawing multiple weapons onto the same target. The volley accounted for a mere four ships.
"This isn't doing the job. Pull out and follow me." He signalled.
The boys accelerated away from the drones as enemy missiles responded to their own. The drones were able to shoot down several, but soon the missiles began to find their marks. Without fighters to protect them and with enemy ships at such a close range, Millar knew the drones would not last long. He hoped they wouldn't have to.

Bridge, UNHCV Comet
Leaving Hope II orbit, Hope system
1818 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Patterson pounded the console with one fist as he pointed towards the robot fighters threatening to overrun the second picket line.
"X-Force have screwed us. Sure they got a few robot fighters but now the rest are going to get past the drones before our other squadrons can get in front of us. What were they thinking?"
Morris' eyes held disapproval, both for the state of the battle and the outburst from his XO that the whole bridge could hear.
Ensign Moore spoke matter-of-factly, breaking the momentary silence. "Captain, X-Force have switched off their IFF transponders. All the drones in the area are requesting permission to detonate. Do you want me to override them?"
Morris answered swiftly. "No. That must be his plan. let 'em blow." He added in a low voice. "I think we have underestimated the X-Force commander."
All eyes swung towards the holographic scan as it burst into light around the drones of the second line. Unable to scan any friendly vessels and with their position compromised, they responded as programmed and self-destructed on Moore's instructions. The resulting explosions lit up the bridge.
In seconds the image had been updated to show an area empty of drones, and with far fewer enemy ships. Around thirty remained in operation, many of these had been chasing off the ships of 1st and 2nd squadron earlier and were not quite within the effective blast range when the drones detonated. The others had been destroyed outright, effectively blunting the assault.
The remaining advance girl ships now appeared to be re-deploying to hold the position until the main force arrived. At least X-Force had bought them that much time, Morris thought. It was then that he realised he could not make out any sign of X-Force on the scanner.

C-Force fighter C-8
Aerospace Superiority Mission, Hope system
1825 hours GMT 2079-May-4

As he trailed behind the last of the ships of 4th squadron, Chris tried not to feel he was chasing a phantom of his own imagining, while the real danger was right there in front of him. By delaying as he had, he knew that his ships would never reach the second picket line before the girl fighters did. The urge to forget his hunch and go after this visible threat was almost overwhelming.
At least now the girl charge had been halted for the moment. X-Force had proven they did not need him as badly as he had first thought. That meant he could afford a slight detour to check his hunch.
Minutes passed in silence as they meandered towards to front line of the battle. Chris poured over his scanning systems trying to find something, anything, out of the ordinary in the region he had identified earlier.
Then suddenly, fleetingly, his shields registered a laser hit. It was tiny, far less than the power of a targeting laser. But this was no targeting system his defence computer recognised. The beam was too diffuse to trace properly. Strange.
"Did any of you guys get that?" He asked.
"Yeah, a fuzzy laser hit. You got it too?" Doug answered.
Maher, Boyd and Kain also registered the same phenomenon on their systems.
"I couldn't lock on to it but we must be able to trace it. Boyd, that's your department."
"Yes Sir." The boy answered snappily.

Time passed and Chris caught himself drumming his fingers on the console. He knew that catching on to the girl's plan would do them no good if the did not show up in time to prevent it being implemented.
Then a ping from his Nav computer alerted him to new information coming from Boyd. The boy had cracked it and not a minute too soon.
Boyd spoke. "The enemy fighters are using a laser cooling system on their exhaust to reduce the temperature of their emissions to a background level. But the laser energy itself has to go somewhere and that is what we detected. I've plotted their location Commander."
Chris nodded in understanding. "Set us a course to bring us near there in such a way to look like we are returning to the Comet for as long as possible. Radio silence from now on in."

Bridge, UNHCV Comet
Leaving Hope II orbit, Hope system
1830 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Morris watched as the wave of girl ships clashed into his own at the remnants of the second picket line. He had six windows open on his screen displaying the brevity codes his flight controllers where using to communicate with his ships. It was the kind of micro management he was supposed to delegate but delegation had never really been a strong point of his. Not when his crews' lives were on the line.
He spotted two fighters from 4th squadron, a captain and his wingman, just as the captain's ship vanished from the display. He knew the other ship could see what was going on around him just as well as he could. But maybe because he was so close to the action the pilot seemed to have missed the obvious threat of a robot fighter targeting him with a missile from thirty kilometers out. The boy continued on straight, a course that would shortly guarantee his own death.
Morris opened a battle language channel to the pilot.
"Whiskey seven bandit 130,70,30 hot. LINK one. ACK."
"ACK." they boy acknowledged tersely.
"Bank 47,160 AB. INCH."
He spotted another pair of FLI fighters close enough to help.
"Echo nine, cover Whiskey seven. BDI." He forwarded the tracking data from the robot fighter to them.
The exchange used scant seconds and the results accumulated even less time. Yet a fighter pilot's seconds are like a normal boy's minutes. The pilot of whiskey seven turned away on afterburners and dropped chaff at the same time as the robot fighter fired its active radar missile. The missile veered into towards its target but then detonated harmlessly in the chaff. The two boy fighters commanded by Echo nine then launched their own missiles, and destroyed the robot fighter.
That was one boy safe for the moment, a minor victory. He knew they needed many more and forced himself to turn his attention back to the battle at large.

C-Force 8,
Aerospace Superiority Mission, Hope system
1840 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Chris ground his teeth at the whining of the planet based radar wavering around his ship. He made a mental note to look for a less annoying sound effect when he got back to the Comet. He was positive that the radar's controller could not be certain of their position relative that of the covert group of robot fighters, and would rely on the visual sensors that would have picked up the boys' emissions trails for their last course change. The direct use of their inertial dampers to bleed off inertia and alter their course, though costly in terms of fuel, was much harder if not impossible to detect from the ground. Part of this course change was to drop Maher and Kain further back from the other three ships. From the planet they would appear to be travelling either in a long line, or in a group whose exact position was hard to pin down. Half their shield power had been pumped into ECM to aid this impression. Something else the girl base's scanning controller would have no reason to expect them to do. He hoped it would be enough.

Now the closest of those sneak ships were within enhanced visual range. Their emissions were wildly different to those of the other robot ships he had seen, though the basic configuration seemed pretty much the same. Still with the six legs, the spider impression enhanced by pods attached to the front of them. They had to be bomb payloads of some kind, and he wasn't about to let them get any nearer the Comet. Then his eyes adjusted to the perspective and he realised what he was looking at. Those fighters were carrying skipper torpedoes.
If they launch thirty torpedoes at the comet from this range...
He had to think of how best to stop them. He knew that the Skipper Torpedoes carried enough onboard intelligence to target and manoeuvre all the way to the Comet. The stealth capability of the fighters was the only thing they lacked. Combining the two weapons was a stroke of genius. The fighters could probably launch them in seconds.
He ran through the scenarios again. With Bobby gone, there were only five of them to take on thirty. Earlier he had simulated this based on the specifications of the robot ships they had encountered earlier. Now he knew the urgency was much greater. They had to damage or destroy as many ships and torpedoes as they could before they were launched. Fortunately it was that kind of smash and grab attack that he had been planning for anyway. With his best strategy he had only been killed three times out of five in the simulations. Probably better odds than I've faced all day.
He keyed his tight beam laser comms to the other C-Force ships. "OK, I'll go in first. I'm going to cut across their course and split them up. I'll pass my sensor scanning data back to you for missile locks. Maher and Kain are stand offs. Boyd, you and Doug follow me in once I'm through. We've got to do enough damage in the first few seconds to neutralise this group as a threat to the Comet. Got it?"
Three excited voices echoed "Yes," while Boyd answered with his dead pan "Affirmative."
Chris added. "Go for the torpedoes, get them and the fighters will go along with them."
He guided his fighter in on an approach that he hoped would allow him to get in nice and close to the enemy ships before he was detected. If he could achieve enough missile locks for the other boys to use, with luck there would too much chaos for the enemy to react in time to nail him. One thing in his favour was that these ships would not being using active scanning, since such a system would do at least as much to give away their own position as to detect other ships. His whole plan rested on the ground scanning not being sure of his position; he could not afford to let them alert the fighters to his presence too soon. The fact that the ships still maintained their close formation, and had not started releasing their torpedoes, was enough to convince him that this was the case.
He held off on his targeting systems as the range dropped within twenty kilometres. He was well within optimal targeting range, but as soon as the lasers started painting the robot fighters they would know he was there. And then the shooting would start. From his simulations he knew he had to put that off for as long as possible.
The range dropped to ten kilometres, then five, and his enhanced visual scan brought the trailing ships so close he felt he could just reach out and touch them.
That's close enough.
He re-engaged targeting and the screen went wild with plotting and emissions data. He ignored it as it scrolled past on its way to the other C-Force ships, and concentrated on keeping a level course for as long as possible to aid the locking process. The enemy ships were slow to respond. It was like they were awakening early from hibernation. Chris considered that perhaps this was a consequence of their stealth system. What ever it was he was prepared to consider in more detail later. Now he opened fire with his front cannons at point blank range on the closest ship. The ship exploded as his blast caught the payload pod carrying the Skipper Torpedo and detonated.
Ahead of him the other robots seemed to throw off their earlier drowsiness and broke out of their close formation rapidly. Some turned to fight while others turn away at an angle, aligning their deadly payloads with the Comet. Another ship disappeared as he sped past, guns blazing. A moment later missiles from the other C-Force ships plunged down into the enemy formation, as they manoeuvred wildly to escape.
Ships were exploding all around Chris as he finally decided it was time to break out and back to his supporting ships. Constrained until now so as not to make the other boy's jobs more difficult, he started dropping chaff and pumping out as much ECM as his fighter could handle. The enemy seemed to be everywhere and he looped back up to his left. And almost actually ran into a girl ship. He managed to avoid a collision, but the pass was so close that the two ships tore at each other's shields. His indicators now glowed a garish red all down his left flank.
He checked his scanner more carefully before altering course again towards the onrushing ships of Doug and Boyd. Even his Force ability to read the scanning data straight out of the system was not enough the keep track of them, there were just too many ships, too close.
He caught sight of a torpedo accelerating away from the fight and spat out a curse. "Maher, get onto the Comet and let them know what is happening."
A sharp ping in his head set indicated a missile had locked on to him. At this range one of them was bound too. But did it have to be in front of me? He saw the angry red icon flash across his scan screen towards him and knew the vector was too shallow for his chaff to effect its course. He tried to pull around to at least present his strongest shield in that direction. But he knew he would never get that far. As the nose of his ship passed the line of the approaching missile he fired his cannons in a last desperate attempt to destroy it.
And to his amazement, destroy it he did. He figured that he would have to buy Jack a beer for that idea. But his relief was short lived. Another enemy ship slashed in from his right and hit him with a full burst from its four laser emitters. The beams punched through his shields and into the fighter's armour plate. A second later that ship disappeared in a swirl of debris as a C-Force missile found its mark.
"Nice shooting Doug! I needed some space."
Chris hit his after burners to get clear and checked his damage report as it scrolled past. Power relays to his guns were down. Targeting was off-line. So that ruled out missile locks. Several back up systems were in the red as well. He prioritised the nanobot repair system to get the guns back on line, then pulled the missiles on the launch gantry back in. A second later he had rolled out his two Hellfire launchers. He continued his afterburner burst as he saw on EV that he was chasing down a fleeing robot fighter. The ship must have decided it would have a better chance of launching its torpedo if it put a bit a distance between itself and C-Force. He continued until he was right on its tail and then opened up with both launchers using line of sight. The deadly balls of plasma engulfed the rear of the ship and blew it into next week. Chris smiled in spite of the rash of red icons on his damage display and his radar.
He was still in the fight.

Bridge, UNHCV Comet
Leaving Hope II orbit, Hope system
1850 hours GMT 2079-May-4

"Still no word from C-Force or X-Force sir." The comms officer announced. "Though I'm sure they must be still out there somewhere."
Morris nodded. Yes they would be out there somewhere, and doing their own damn thing. Unlike the FLI squadron leaders the Special Forces ships were not sending in regular feedback to the Comet, and he couldn't make up his mind whether he believed that would turn out to be necessary or just another instance of their over zealous secrecy.
Just then a warning klaxon announced the detection of another Ion Cannon blast. The CDO confirmed the report tersely.
Morris gripped the handle of his pistol tightly, but held his anger in check. According to the Special Forces that Cannon could only fire one shot before their sabotage took effect. Everything they had done so far assumed that the Comet would only have to evade one shot. His earlier trick with the shields had worked once, but he doubted whether it would do so again. "Evasive action procedure gamma three. All aft batteries open fire."
"Aye Captain."
He barely noticed the slight give of the Inertial Dampening field as the huge ship altered its course. By now they were further out from the planet, and he knew that made them a tougher target. However, the girls down on the planet would have had time to learn from their first shot to get the trajectory right for their second, and so their chances had also improved.
He watched the speeding projectile cross the distance between them on the scanner. Once again he dropped the shields at the last moment. This time, however, the angle did not prove as helpful.
Suddenly the dot on the display winked out and the CDO called out not in dismay, but in triumph. "Laser battery 7 reports a direct hit!"
Morris realised the news was not all good however, for the other boys expression fell almost instantly.
"The projectile was too close, some of the plasma hit the primary propulsion systems. Damage report is coming in now." He paused while his panel was updated with new data. "Sir we are down to sixty percent efficiency from propulsion."
Morris nodded. It was bad. But that said, it was a lot better than a direct hit. They could live with the damage for now. As he looked at his XO he read the question in the boy's eyes. Could they be so lucky in the event of another shot from the planet?
He feared the answer was no.
Once more he schooled himself to relax. Anything other than his usual poker face would be bad for morale.
Then the CDO announced a new threat. "Captain, Skipper Torpedoes! Scanner indicates twelve drive sources."
Morris stared out at the tactical screen and what he saw nearly froze him with dread. How could so many torpedoes suddenly be that close? He responded quickly, training and experience overriding his dismay.
To the CDO. "Realign all batteries to their approach path." Then to Navigation. "Adjust course to previous heading." Finally to Fighter Control. "Assign 7th squadron to intercept if they can."
Silence fell over the bridge after the orders were relayed and everyone waited to see if their counter measures would be able to stop all the incoming torpedoes.
Once again Morris considered the sudden arrival of this new threat. Skipper torpedoes were weapons that tested the spirit of the UNM's policy of human only fire control. In theory a Captain could retain control of them through strict engagement protocols, but in practise he would have little time to do so in a full on battle. Many in the UNM, Morris included, disliked having any autonomous weapons, but the precedent of 20th Century submarine torpedoes had been enough to keep them in service. He grimaced at the thought of how the UGF would have programmed them. It was a good thing no civilian ships were around.
The torpedoes' brains were advanced enough for them to know when to fire their engines and when to coast, this must have allowed them to approach so far without being identified. Once they were close enough to reach their target with their remaining fuel loads, the torpedoes would have re-ignited their engines and began accelerating rapidly towards the Comet.
The comms officer interrupted his thoughts. "Sir, a signal coming in from C-Force. Pre-recorded from a few minutes ago."
"Put it through."
"C-Force two. Lieutenant Maher reporting."
The signal was strong but Maher's voice sounded distracted. Morris guessed he was trying to talk and fight at the same time.
"We jumped a group of fighters carrying skipper torpedoes trying to sneak up on you. Um, we got a lot of them but I think a few might be headed your way."
Morris clenched his jaw tightly at what was the probably biggest understatement he had heard from a lieutenant.
The message continued, "We could use a hand out here too, if you can spare a flight or two of FLIs. Thanks, Maher clear."
Morris decided there was no point in shooting the messenger, even if the message was late. C-Force had clearly saved them from a much bigger salvo of torpedoes.
He turned back to the holo-display and watched as icons representing the twenty ships of 7th squadron closed in on the their intercept course with the torpedoes. The ships had been spread thinly though, and only eight were close enough to reach the area in time. Several of the incoming icons flared, then faded out. Then two of those representing the boys' fighters followed.
Despite the boys' sacrifice, nine of the deadly torpedoes remained. It was too late to do anything other than rely on the Comet's onboard defences. Again the laser batteries filled the space around the ship with deadly energy. Anti-missile missiles shot out as the range closed. Grey icons continued to fade out, but the remaining five were now very close. Then four were left as one of the AMMs found its mark. The remainder were now well within enhanced visual scan.
He knew that to manoeuvre would reduce the chances of any more hits by his defence systems, but he realised he was now in the ugly position of deciding not if, but where, the torpedoes would strike.
"Roll thirty degrees to port. Declination ten degrees."
"Aye Captain."
The first two torpedoes detonated early, but this was no error on their part. The blasts flattened the Comet's shields at that point, clearing the way for their successors to destroy the ship itself.
The two remaining torpedoes streaked towards the carrier's exposed hull. The Comet's last second roll had brought the second flight deck between the torpedoes and main body of the ship. It was here that they impacted and detonated their payloads. The massive explosion could not be felt thanks to the inertial dampeners, but Morris winced as though he had been physically struck himself.
His glare towards damage control was so full of rage and grief that the officer almost took a step back. The boy recovered quickly though and soon had enough information to report.
"Flight deck two has been hit. The deck has been declared inoperative. Fires are being contained to that spur. Two fighters and crew have been lost."
At the boy's reaction Morris softened his features and waited patiently for his report to finish. He tried to weigh the damage against what it could have been, and knew that it could have been much worse. The flight bays were the least manned areas of the ship once the fighters were launched, plus they had two more. Although it made refuelling and arming more difficult, they could manage with just two.
The Comet's tattered shields would take a long time to recover, but at least nothing was close enough to take advantage of that weakness.
Yet.
"Detach 7th squadron to C-Force's position. Launch two more flights to cover us here."
Then another thought crossed his mind.
"Any sign of X-Force yet?"
The scanning officer spoke hesitantly. "We still have nothing definite." He gathered himself before continuing, "However I have found signs of debris along the path of their last known trajectory."
"Dispatch an SAR shuttle to search for them, with four fighters as escort." Morris hoped there was more for them to find than just debris.
Let's get back to the big picture, he thought.
"Bring us around to our previous heading again, best speed."
An alert beep drew his attention back to the scan of the battle, and his heart nearly stopped. Ahead of them, accelerating out from behind the cover of the moon the boys had designated Hope IIb, was the entire fighter complement of the Barbarella. Three full wings, three hundred fighters.
He gritted his teeth to hold back a curse. They must have launched those fighters hours ago, while most of the Comet's scanning arc was still blocked by the planet and its moons. Behind them on Hope II was the Ion Cannon, still functional, and they may yet have to face more Skipper Torpedoes. Morris conceded that they had been out thought, and out manoeuvred.
But he'd be damned if he was going to let them be outfought.
"Stop engines. Redirect all power to regenerating the shields. We're going to hold our present vector and fight here. Alert all fighters to our situation."
Patterson spoke from behind him. "Shall we pull 3rd squadron back in. They're no good out there now."
Morris nodded and tried to set himself to handle this new situation. With the enemy right out in front of them there was no point using energy to accelerate further. Even decelerating would be a waste of energy. Speed was not the issue anymore. If the Barbarella won't come out and fight, then we'll see just how many of her fighters we can take with us. The fighters would take time to close the distance enough to make good on their threat, but those from the planet were still effectively herding the Comet into the ships from the girl carrier. Their only chance was for that sabotage to work on the girl base, and he hoped that by making his ship an easier target they would be less cautious in firing their next shot. It was a terrible risk. If the new group of fighters from the Barbarella reached them first, it would be game over.

X-Force Leader,
Aerospace Superiority mission, Hope system
Clock Damaged

Commander Millar hung steadily in free fall as his battered fighter spun erratically around him. The initial concussion of the shock wave produced by the exploding picket drones had buffeted the ships heavily, while the EMP burst that arrived with it shattered the fighters primary systems; Engines, Weapons, Inertial Drive, Scanners. Only the heavily EMP shielded cockpit, containing life-support and of course Millar himself, had escaped relatively unharmed. Millar tried to count the cost, compared to what their sacrifice had achieved. Probably the best part of a hundred enemy fighters for his own six. Mathematically it was a good exchange, but as he sat there relatively motionless, without a clue of his location or that of the other X-Force ships, he could hardly make himself accept that view.
Not that it was a complete disaster for him and his boys, before the blast hit they had drawn all the nano-repair units into the safety of their cockpits. Even now the little robots worked busily to repair his craft. It was a situation X-Force had trained for, no one would panic, each would have a different repair priority to ensure that the group as a whole would be able to react as soon as possible.
Millar watched the count down display as it showed him that his defence scanner and Inertial Drive were approaching workable condition. He knew the other boys would be repairing guns, missiles, targeting, scanning, and engines respectively. Between the six of them, the possibility of their being less was not one he would allow, they should be able to perform any basic function within another few minutes. Communications received a lower priority. Since their telepathy could cover nearly five kilometres in space, they could communicate effectively that way once they were close enough.
The boy closed his eyes again to relieve the queasy feeling in his stomach. The sensation had been slowly worsening since freeing himself from his seat that now turned over and over in the air around his head. As soon as he had attitude controls back on line he would straighten the ship out and strap himself back in. But to do so now would be to invite trouble for his lunch.
Don't think about lunch!
He sensed a bright light and opened his eyes in alarm. His previous course had been back towards the Comet, away from the battle. If even a single enemy fighter should find him in this condition, he was dead. His view was blocked briefly by the turning cockpit, but an anxious second later he had a clear line of sight. The light was no enemy fighter. It approached with incredible speed and as it grew to fill half of his spaceward view he recognised what it was. A projectile from the girl's Ion Cannon. Almost by the time he had built up a really stabbing fear of imminent immolation the moment was past, and the light vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
He released the breath he hadn't realised he was holding and muttered to himself. "That's shot number two. So much for C-Force sabotage techniques."
Still, he knew that wasn't a problem he could do anything about for now. A few minutes later his first systems came back on line. He tested the ID experimentally. Then, satisfied it was functioning acceptably, strapped himself in and brought his ship back to a steady heading. His relieved grin vanished a second later as his defence scanner pinged with the tell tale warning of a missile lock. It was an odd signal though; from its proximity it should have been too far away to achieve a lock.
At least a normal missile should be to far away.
Then it hit him. There were other things out there that might be searching for targets. Skipper Torpedo! His course was taking him back in the direction of the Comet; this could easily be the same path a Skipper Torpedo might choose. Why the hell it would choose him as a target he didn't know. The things were incredibly expensive. Taking out a single fighter with one was extreme over kill. Still, to get this far it must have got through the drones and the fighter screen. It could have been damaged and lost track of the Comet. In that case it would be content to destroy anything else belonging to the enemy. And that included him.
Millar cursed the fact that his plan with switching the IFF transponders included switching them back on at the moment the drones began to detonate. If they'd been off, or even still sending out girl codes, the torpedo might have decide to go looking elsewhere for a target. He schooled himself not to panic, and started responding to the threat by the book. At least he had plenty of speed up, and with the ID back on-line he could manoeuvre, albeit at the cost of plenty of fuel. He began a long arcing turn. If his defence scanner was wrong and the enemy's targeting beam was not locked onto him but someone else, the locking warning should stop sometime during the turn.
It did not stop.
That was step one. Unfortunately, with his countermeasures systems still under repair, most of the other steps were unavailable to him. All he could do was turn back towards the torpedo, and hope a last minute course change would be enough to throw the much faster but less manoeuvrable torpedo off his trail. He brought his ship around slowly until it pointed back towards his unseen pursuer, and briefly considered attempting to bring his guns back on line to shoot it down. He dismissed the idea as futile though, for it would draw his repair bots away from the system he was currently using, plus the chances of him penetrating the torpedoes shields were too low anyway.
"Now lets do a little dance." He muttered.
He swung the ship across to the left then sharply back to the right at what he judged to be the last possible moment. He knew such judgement was difficult without fully function scanners. He also knew that if he waited to actually see the torpedo it would be too late. He had to base his timing on a combination of indirect evidence from the defence scanner, and gut feeling.
The whining bleep of the lock-on klaxon stopped suddenly, and he knew the unseen threat was now behind his ship, but it was then replaced by the ping of a searching radar. He could almost feel the implacable craft turning ponderously back towards his last known position, scanning for him relentlessly. Seconds later the whine returned signalling to his dismay that the torpedo had managed to re-establish a lock on.
He shrugged in his seat. That's pretty much it.
He kept up a steady series of manoeuvres, but without ion engines each one drained his speed further. At length he knew that he would be have been able to see the torpedo on enhanced visual, if it was still working. Yet he pictured it in his mind's eye. The sleek black shape of the Skipper Torpedo, so named because of its almost exclusive use by Ship Captains to eliminate other capital ships, was twice the length of a fighter craft. Packed with engines, shield generators and payload, the weapons were incredibly expensive, but if they achieved their aim of taking out a capital ship, worked out to be a bargain. Their use was becoming more of a rarity in recent decades due to the falling cost of fighter craft. Not rare enough for him though.
Still, the cost of a lone fighter to take one of the things out could be considered a victory, and Millar tried to console himself with that. Though for the cost of a Force Unit commander in this proto-type fighter the exchange could be considered a little more even.
His mind raced as he tried to come up with options. The girls had probably modified the torpedo's onboard AI, though since its mission was more solitary than their fighters' were the changes might have been different. For a second he wondered if the torpedo's brain somehow knew who he was and had targeted him specifically instead of going on against the Comet. The thought gave him an icy chill in the pit of his stomach. None of that speculation would change his response though, training and experience would see to that.
He began manually releasing chaff and flares, and started dumping anything that might throw off the weapon's lock. He knew the thing was probably damaged, the ploy might work.
Then he spotted a glinting shape in the rear view screen. The black hexagon blocked out more stars as it closed the distance and Millar switched off the missile lock klaxon. He wasn't going to break the lock.
Suddenly the screen lit up with an expanding ball of super heated plasma and Millar braced himself for the inevitable.

X-Force Fighter 4
Aerospace Superiority mission, Hope system
1900 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Jack levelled off as best as he could in his damaged fighter. When he judged himself close enough he opened his mind to signal his commander.
"That's why I chose engines and weapons as my repair priorities Commander."
Suddenly Jack could sense his commander's great relief coming from a couple of kilometers ahead of him.

Millar's head dropped and he let out a snort that was half relief and half concern about how many times he'd hear about this from Jack from now till eternity. Well, maybe three quarters relief.
"Thanks mate. I was sure you guys were going to be looking for a new commander. Is everyone OK?"

Jack nodded out of habit.
"Yes. We all pretty much ended up with the same amount of EMP damage but managed to stay in close enough formation to keep in contact via telepathy. Except for you of course since you decided you had to be the last one out when we switched IFF codes."
Jack could almost see that impish grin. "It was my plan, If it failed I didn't want anyone but me to buy the farm."
He grinned broadly himself but decided to let that pass.
Millar then obviously decided to get back to business. "How did you pull that off anyway?"
Jack smiled and began to explain.
"Well, Ingo got long range scan up while I was getting engines and lasers working again. He spotted the Skipper Torpedo chasing you and he was close enough to TP me about it. Without my ID drive it was hard work but I managed to bring the ship around and accelerate in your direction. I would never have made it in time if the thing hadn't lost so much speed following your big right turn. Anyway by the time I got close enough to use it I had enhanced visual back on-line and I could see the Torpedo had been damaged, luckily on the side facing me because there was no way I could have come in on any other angle. The torp's right side rear shield hadn't fully regenerated from the earlier damage and I managed to make my shots count and the thing's now history."
Jack paused to let Millar absorb all this and knew it would be stored it away and reviewed later.
"Maybe they'll see that back at the Comet and send someone out to bring us in."
Jack could sense the other boy beginning to pass out of TP range as he replied.
"Yeah, well we're pretty well spread out now but soon Bilby will have Comms up and he can guide the FLIs to you. It'll take a while for me to catch up though."
"Pull around so you can guide me back to the others."
"I can't do that sir. I'm still on thrust vectoring. Like I said, it'll take a while for me to make my way back. Head back for where you started before this little detour. I'll meet you there if no one has come to get you by then."
Jack could sense that Millar did not like the idea of him heading away from the rest of them, and back towards the main battle.
"Don't worry Millar, I can take care of myself."
Before his commander could respond the other boy passed out of TP range. Jack shrugged and began turning his fighter around slowly to a heading that would take him back towards the other stricken X-Force fighters.

Bridge, UNHCV Comet
Hope II, Hope system
1855 hours GMT 2079-May-4

"Damn it what's happening with that Ion Cannon." Morris' fist clenched, but kept his eyes angled so the sound would not leave the command console. He didn't want his frustration to spread. By now the girls should have charged another projectile and it was past time for them to fire. Had they discovered the sabotage?
Morris had already made up his mind after the second shot that if another were successfully fired he would pull away from his course and try to put the planet between them and the base. That would mean the cannon would cease firing but it would also eliminate any chance of the sabotage taking effect. Chris had been confident in his plan, but now Peter regretted sharing that confidence. It had been worth a try, but he could not keep offering the Comet for target practice. It would take much more time but if he could keep his ship alive long enough to reach a big asteroid or comet, he had his own plans for destroying the Girl base.
The Captain paced the few steps the space on the command dais allowed him. He stared at the tactical scanner, willing the situation to change.
Suddenly scan let out a whoop, "Atmospheric interdiction has been lifted, our satellites can now scan the surface and report major power outages at the girl base."
Morris smiled thinly. "Thank you scan. Let's have a 'sir' somewhere in your next report. Navigation, Bring us around to port, declination fifteen degrees."
Patterson lent close to his Captain. "With the base blind, we can now try to hide from their fighters."

C-Force fighter C-8,
Aerospace Superiority mission, Hope system
1900 hours GMT 2079-May-4

An objective completion light came to life on Chris's dashboard. "Finally!" He muttered under his breath. The signal from the Comet indicated that the sabotage of the girl base had at last taken effect. A subtler indication was the change in the battle going on around him. Where as before the enemy fighter groups had fought in a co-ordinated, disciplined manner, now each group seemed to be unaware of the others. They were still dangerous up close but now the boys should be able to cut them to pieces with hit and run attacks. At least until the fighters from the Barbarella arrived in overwhelming numbers.
A good example were the two ships on his tail at that moment, both jockeying for the ideal shot at his weakening rear shields. Each ship was a significant threat at that range, and working together could have had him in trouble.
But they were not working together. It was clear that whatever modifications had been made to these ships did not include the telemetry swapping and communal AI of the other robot fighters. Now that their torpedoes had been launched or destroyed the remaining ships were simply fighting one out with only a limited idea of where their fellows were.
Chris tapped the after burner and put his ship through a brief barrel roll. He then double checked the robot ship's converging vectors before pulling up sharply.
Both ships slid into the perfect position to fire, at the same moment. They collided before either quite managed to shoot, resulting in a bright explosion that Chris made a mental note to replay later for the troops.
Just to show off, if nothing else.
A signal on his medium-range scan then caught his eye. One of the girl ships was pulling away from this skirmish, trying to avoid the other ships. Self-preservation, that is strange behaviour, he thought. Maybe I have misjudged their AI.
Chris matched vectors with the enemy ship and studied its energy emissions. There was something different about this one. It seemed slower and manoeuvred sluggishly, yet there was no apparent damage. Life support! The ship's power generators were being tapped to support a pilot.
That makes it harder. I do not want to kill the pilot but she is too much of a threat to let go. Setting his laser emitters to converge on the target, he closed the distance carefully and prayed for a clear shot. He hoped he could disable the ship without killing the pilot. Then the enemy fighter slowed slightly. "Probably hoping I'll over shoot." He matched vectors again and made sure to monitor their respective speeds. The distance dropped below ten kilometres, then nine.
Suddenly the girl ship engaged its afterburners and began to pull away, arcing away to its left. Chris gave a shake of his head at the futility of this move. Designed for ultra high manoeuvrability, not sheer speed, the fighter's afterburners were inferior even to a standard FLI module, much less his own craft. Finger poised over the firing stud he followed using his own after burners to rapidly close the gap as the enemy ship passed through the apex of its turn and moved back towards the right. Chris nearly choked. The long burst from the enemy ship left a glowing trail of engine emissions in its wake. They clearly formed the letter C.
His mind raced and he tore his finger off the trigger. Then it dawned on him. I nearly fried my second in command! Chris switched from the encrypted comms battle channel to an open frequency. "Bobby is that you I nearly shot to hell?" There was no reply.
Chris thought rapidly. Maybe Bobby can only transmit on the girl battle channels, or he thinks he would have both sides trying to kill him if he used an open channel. He followed the arcing manoeuvre of his friend, and closed to within five kilometers. The maximum range for telepathy.
"Can you hear me Bobby?"
Even at this range Chris could sense his friend's relief. "It's me. I managed to find my way into the girl's fighter hanger and they had lots of these pilot modules lying around. I didn't think they'd miss one. Thank God you found me instead of Maher, or those X-Force guys."
"Yeah or the FLIs." Chris added helpfully.
As he closed to within one kilometer of Bobby's ship he could see that indeed some sort of cockpit was slung below the cylinder, between the four forward outstretched arms. He matched speeds and brought his ship along side the other boy's. "Why didn't you make contact before now?"
Bobby made an exaggerated shrug, clearly intended to be noticed through the cockpit and across a hundred meters of vacuum. "Well, although I have somewhere to sit the ship is still configured for robot control. Until now I haven't been able to do anything apart from trying not to shoot anyone or get squashed by too much Gee."
Chris nodded. "OK, well stand by and I'll call the boys in and we'll escort you back to the Comet. From there you can get yourself into a girl fighter that you can fly."
He checked his medium range scan and saw that all the other C-Force fighters had disengaged from the enemy and along with the FLI fighters were now peppering their opposition with missiles. Without control from the girl base the fighters were almost helpless as they ran into ambushes of fast FLI fighters, unable to find any ships beyond their limited tracking range. When they held their formations the FLIs were able to cut and run. Where they pursued, the FLIs led them in to carefully planned traps. He activated a recall signal for C-Force to reform on his wing. Getting all four acknowledgement signals, he switched to long range scan to get a feel for how the battle as a whole was going.
Suddenly he felt a wave of concern then excitement sweep over Bobby. He tried to push it aside to hear what his friend was saying. "They're trying to re-establish control of the fighters. It's the Barbarella!"
Chris thumped the dashboard with his fist. "Shit, I never thought of that. But even if I did I wouldn't have thought they could do it so soon. Can you eject? I'll pick you up."
Bobby shook his head vigorously. "That's not it. I disabled the actuator from the receiver as soon as they lost control. The point is that I am still receiving their signal. I know where they are!" In his excitement he paused for breath as he would if he had been talking and not using telepathy. "She's behind the Moon we have designated Hope IIa."
Chris drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. "IIa, not C were her fighters are coming from. They must have launched from A and orbited C in an attempt to draw us in there. Or they launched while the Comet was still in orbit on the far side of the planet. Clever, they would have had to launch hours ago. Can you tell me exactly where that carrier is?"
Bobby continued. "She's tucked in close to the moon's surface. Must be bouncing the signal off the planet's ionosphere. But that's too far away for the Comet to launch a strike group. By the time they got there the battle here would be over."
"Yeah I know." Chris said absently as he examined his long-range scan. They were in a relatively isolated sector of the battle, forty-percent closer to IIa than the Comet. He punched up a screen with containing all their data on Hope IIa. "hmm no atmosphere." He murmured to himself.
As the remainder of C-Force formed up around him he gave a lopsided grin. "I've got an idea."

FLI Leader A1,
Aerospace Superiority Mission, Hope system
1720 hours GMT 2079-May-4

This was nothing like the delicate manoeuvring Cameron Johns had been trained to expect in this modern era of space battle. No cat and mouse, no hours between skirmishes and time to refuel and rearm. Both sides having long since loosed the majority of their missiles, the fighting was now at short range with lasers and magnetically propelled projectile weapons. This was in your face dog fighting that called upon every reflex he possessed to keep from becoming another spray of scattered atoms careening towards the atmosphere of Hope II.
He loved it.
The enemy fighter in front of him disappeared as he blasted it through its now unshielded exhaust port. He sought another target on his scanner and noticed one of his boys getting himself into trouble. An enemy fighter was closing in on him from behind. He swung around in that direction just as the boy noticed it himself.
"Blue 7. Request assistance."
Johns admired the boy's cool demeanour. He was one of the newer pilots, probably only sixty years old or so compared to his own hundred and ten. Keeping an eye out for the enemy he hit his after burners and began cutting the distance between his new target and himself.
He fired as soon as the robot ship came within maximum range, hoping just to put it off more than anything else. His long burst of fire did a little damage to the ship's rear shields but it continued to stick behind its target. Johns wondered how much the robot ship was programmed to value its own survival. Would it allow itself to be destroyed so it could account for the boy ship?
Just then a warning siren sounded in his head set. Another ship was attempting to lock a missile on to him. He soon traced the position of the ship and saw it arcing around to get behind him. Doubly bad luck for him to draw the attention of a fighter that was in that position and still had a missile left. The siren increased in pitch as the signal grew stronger, approaching lock on. He could pull around to take on the new threat, but it was so far back that he would not be able to return in time to help Blue 7.
A quick check confirmed that no one else was close enough to help. Further ahead though was a relief flight of FLIs, if they could get that far they would be safe for a while. He forwarded the co-ordinates to Blue 7.
"Now you won't make it there in a straight line. Keep trying to evade, but get there as quick as you can." He said.
"Yes sir."
The boy was good, but not good enough to evade his more manoeuvrable pursuer. Now Johns saw that Blue 7's ship had taken some damage to its after burners, which would limit his top speed.
The siren in his ears was steady, meaning it was not yet locked on, and he fiddled with the ECM controls to give himself some more time.
He fired another sustained laser burst again at long range. These blasts found their mark, seriously weakening his target's shields. He closed in hoping for a kill, afterburners spewing out superheated emissions behind him. They siren in his headset became a steady tone, signalling a lock on. The ship would fire any second.
Having closed the range significantly with that last after burner burst, Johns let another blast go at his target. This time shredding the remaining shields and peeling off the fighter's rear armour. Another good hit will do it. A new warning signal informed him that his laser power was low, and would need vital seconds to recharge. Shit! He switched to his gauss cannon, knowing the projectile weapon would be just as good as a laser now his target's rear shield was down.
The tone in his head set switched to a piercing wail and superimposed on his visor was the dreadful message; "Missile Inbound."
On his Enhanced Visual scan he could see Blue 7's shield was down and armour was being blown away in large chunks by his pursuer. That message "Missile Inbound." flashed over the scene. He had seconds to decide which one of them was going to die.
He chose, steadied, and fired.
The first burst of metallic projectiles ripped through the remaining hull armour of the robot ship. The second tore through the same opening and into the interior and the enemy fighter exploded brightly.
"Thank you sir." Blue 7 signalled.
"No problem kid. Good lu..." at that moment the approaching missile careened into the rear of Johns' ship. The blast engulfed and destroyed it.

Bridge, UNHCV Comet
Hope II, Hope system
1920 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Morris watched the icon representing his friend wink out and stiffened in disbelief. He was losing many of his best pilots out there, but Johns had always been a survivor. Watching as Blue 7 reached the relative safety of the relief flight he shook his head sadly. Sacrificing himself to save one of his pilots was just the sort of thing he had feared when Johns had announced he was going to strap on a fighter again. Morris said a silent prayer for the boy's soul.
Then the communications officer reported. "Flag in from C-Force sir. They are pulling out of the battle. They believe they have located the Barbarella, and have a plan to disable her fighter control transmitter."
"Where is she?" Morris asked, all business again.
"Behind Hope IIa."
"IIa, the battle will be over before they get that far out." Patterson said.
Morris considered this. If anyone could make it that far in time to make a difference it was C-Force in those fighters. But surely even they could not take on a carrier alone? He shrugged and turned to his XO.
"You've got a good point, but Chris has command out there. He knows the situation. If he's got a plan we'll have to let him go for it."

Technical Addendum
Inertial Drive

One of the first truly useful pieces of technology to be derived from the moon were the Precursor spheres, or p-spheres. In the early days nearly every new technology had the prefix 'p-' added to it. This marketing scheme had a fairly short shelf life, but in the case of p-spheres the name stuck, and has done so ever since. At any rate what they actually did was provide a combination of three functions. One of these was a field that reduced the inertia of objects within it, an inertial dampening field. The second a field that could push the p-sphere away from encroaching objects, a repulsor. The third field prevents matter or energy of various kinds penetrating it, a shield.
A single p-sphere could produce all three phenomena in various strengths but were generally mutually exclusive, for example you could not have a full strength repulsor and shield, or shield and inertial dampener at the same time. Seen out of its insulation a p-sphere resembles a marble, with swirling indistinct shapes of varying colours inside.
Kevin J. Gabrowlski soon discovered that the Precursor spheres could be used not only to provide the three basic functions of Shields, Repulsor, Inertial dampener but in conjunction with a moving platform could actually alter the plane of motion by altering the specific application of inertia.
A sphere was attached to an experimental craft and accelerated up to a limit. Unlike normal physical laws of motion the craft was found to decelerate down to near zero once thrust ceased, but could be very rapidly re-accelerated up to the limit again. A further test was made where the sphere was powered down once the maximum speed was reached, the resulting return of normal inertia meant that the rocket continued to accelerate the craft, but now in a way that conformed with the laws of classical physics. Once the craft had been accelerated to a speed that was twice that of the limit under inertial drive the power to the sphere was switched back on. It was found that the inertia dampening field could not be reinstated until the craft had been decelerated conventionally below the limit. The Gabrowlski limit or Gab Limit soon became the common name for this phenomenon. Larger p-spheres can reach higher Gab limits, but other constraints usually result in lower accelerations.

When a fighter with a functioning inertial dampener enters a carrier the bigger ship's inertial dampener simply overrides that of the smaller.

Afterburners, the term applied to fighter craft acceleration boosters. These are effectively an inertial 'sump' applied directly to the exhaust of the ship's ion drives which in conjunction with the ID provide a large boost in thrust at the cost of power to the p-sphere.

C-Force squadron, Capital Ship Suppression.
Anti-Capital ship mission, Hope system
1925 hours GMT 2079-May-4

The rest of C-Force held formation as Chris informed them of his plans. They had already pulled clear of the fighting and he knew that this had to work. They would not be able to make another contribution to the battle.
Bobby was still working on some of the details. "This ship doesn't have tight beam laser comms. Anything I say will be broadcast on an open channel. Once they know I'm in one of their fighters they may be able to think of a way to evade us. And I'll be a pretty easy target for them too if you don't down that transmitter."
Chris had considered this. He did not want to lose Bobby twice in one day. It was a risk they would have to take, but he had to minimize it if he could. He needed to make sure he had the girls' attention.
"They don't know about you yet. As soon as we sight the carrier, we'll all break radio silence too and keep up a constant stream of chatter. In the confusion they'll probably assume your signal is coming from us."
Bobby gave him a thumbs up sign. "That sounds good to me commander."
Chris nodded and responded in kind. Then he went back to checking the schematic of the mess he had make of his ships inertial damper. What he was trying was essentially no different to what he had done earlier in the day with his stunblaster; combine his shield generator, inertial dampers, and repulsors all for one powerful repulsor jolt. In a lot of ways this was actually a simpler task, since his ship had specifically designed systems for each task.
Of course no one was actually sitting on the end of his stunblaster when he had done that, and he had had the table it was sitting on to provide resistance against that force. Instead of a table he was going to use a moon. Once engaged the repulsion force had to be enough to stop him from crashing into it, but not so much that it crushed him like an egg within his ship.
Earlier he had successfully integrated his personal shield with the ship's system. With the personal shield set to emit its most powerful possible inertial dampening field, he should be able to disable the ships main inertial drive and still have an inertial sump for the after burners to draw on, effectively allowing after burner acceleration beyond the Gab Limit of the main drive. And with that ID field centred on him he should be able to survive the gee forces involved.
He checked his scan to ensure everyone was properly aligned, then paused for several deep breaths.
"Go to full throttle." The boys accelerated up to full unassisted velocity.
"Engage afterburners." The speed gauge leapt forward as the ID drive increased the inertia of the thrust propellant at the moment of exhaust. Then the gauge once again plateaued as the ship reached maximum speed. Chris looked to either side to confirm that his team was still flying in close formation around him.

"Disengage inertial dampers!" He called.
Losing the inertial dampers produced a very odd sensation, for as the inertia in the ship returned to normal so did the output of the ion drive thrusters. Where as a moment earlier they were travelling at the maximum speed attainable, the Gab Limit, now they could accelerate gently under the much slighter thrust of the ion drive. Once beyond the bounds of the Gab Limit, they could no longer activate the inertial drive until they reduced their speed back below that level.
Already they were well beyond that point.
"Now brace yourselves, activate personal shields. That will give us some protection." He paused and once more ran the calculations through his head.
A little voice in the back of his was repeating hysterically, "You shouldn't be doing this! You shouldn't be doing this!"
But he ignored it and drew in a deep breath.
It'll work.
"Activate overrides. Engage after burners." The speed gauge sprang forward as Chris was crushed into his pilot's seat. For the next several minutes he would be unable to move at all, and would only be able to control the ship through his special force powers. Without the inertia reducing effect of the dampers he was subject to the full force of the ship's acceleration on afterburners.
His display lit up with four green lights, signals that the other boy's ships were also performing as planned. He watched the fuel display gradually diminish and tried to get comfortable for the flight ahead. He was occasionally forced to perform minor course corrections with thrusters to stay aligned with the other C-Force ships and with Bobby, who was rapidly falling behind.
Chris had time to realise that he had never gone this fast in a fighter before, and in fact it was possible that no one ever had. At the altitude he was planning to orbit IIa he would practically be able to claim the land speed record. He hoped they would live to claim it as a team effort.

X-Force fighter X-3,
Aerospace Superiority Mission, Hope system
1900 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Bilby relaxed his tense shoulders as the SAR shuttle and its escorts finally come within range of the battered remnants of X-Force squadron. As it turned out none of them had managed to get their communication lasers back on line, making secure comms impossible. They knew the shuttle was coming from the transmissions received from the Comet but could not reply or guide the ship to them until Millar deemed it close enough to risk a broad band transmission.
Sitting dead in space during a full on battle is not good for your nerves. At least it was good to know that the Sabotage on the Girl base had been successful, they just had to worry about any enemy ships that might blindly stumble onto their position, which after all was unlikely. Space is big.
The Shuttle captured his ship with a powerful web caster mounted above a docking brace, then proceeded to do the same with the other ships. He would have preferred adding their number to the paltry escort of four FLI fighters Morris had sent, but realistically they would not be useful again until they had received a major refit back on the carrier.
He powered down the drives and weapons as his ship was reeled into the docking brace within the shuttles inertial dampening field, and shrugged. I guess that's that for this battle. He double checked the his suit and the hatch seals and, satisfied they were all green, popped the canopy open and drew himself into the man-sized tube that led into the shuttle's interior air lock.
Finding himself the last of the boys to make it into the passenger compartment he immediately perceived the sombre mood of warriors who knew the fight was now out of their hands. He looked around sheepishly for a window seat. The only one left was opposite a very cranky looking Millar.
As he sat the intercom came to life. "Commander Millar, we're picking up a signal from one of your boys." Millar sprang to life as the shuttle pilot continued. "He's the one you call Jack. Signal is faint but I can make out that he needs us to let him know our location. But he's taken some hits and can't receive direct comms from our laser…"
Bilby knew where the pilot was driving, he would have to broadcast their location for Jack to pick up the signal, but doing so would alert any robot fighters that were close enough to respond.
Millar did not take long to find a solution. He tapped on the intercom key. "Signal the Comet with a tight beam laser, then get them to broadcast our location in the next ping."
"Yes sir".
"And put Jack's signal through to us here one he gets back to you."
Millar fired up a data station and entered his security code, then tapped the output from the shuttles scanners. Looking for both Jack and enemy fighters, Bilby guessed.
Seconds passed as the four other boys stared up at the speaker, while Bilby stared out the window in what he knew what a hopeless task of trying to spot Jack's ship visually.
Then finally the speaker relayed Jack's signal.
"Gotcha Sir. Just stay on your current vector. I'm on my way to you now. ETA, sixteen minutes. Forwarding vector information now."
Bilby looked at Jack's position on Millar's data station and even from upside down he could tell that the boy was in fact turning away from their shuttle.
Not wanting to worry the others, he opened his mind to his commander. "What do you think he's doing Sir?"
Millar responded with a shrug, then extended his scanning data to include long range scan. Both boys sucked in a breath. The long range scan explained Jack's actions perfectly. Whether they had detected his transmissions or had simply been following him back from the front lines was not important. He now had two full flights of robot fighters after him.
"He's leading them away from us."
Millar looked around at the others and nodded. He drew in a deep breath. "I can't argue with his decision. Our escort can't handle that many ships, and with communications being what they are there's no time to come up with a better plan."
At his words the other boys came over to look at the scanning station. Their silence admitted that they too could see no other option.
Ingo spoke up. "Well he's not dead yet. He's built up a sizeable velocity. It'll take a while for those girl ships to catch up to him."
Bilby agreed, but then shook his head as he realised how close Jack had come to their position before he altered course again.
Once again the intercom relayed Jack's signal. "Forwarding vector information now."
A thought struck him.
"Excuse me sir." He touched a button on Millar's data station that rotated the holographic view of the space around them. He then replayed Jack's last few course changes and compared them to when he would have received and sent his messages.
"Look, his second last course change was after he received our location." He projected a line from both Jack's ship and their shuttle, the line intersected. "Then he sent his message about meeting us in sixteen minutes. Which is exactly what he would have done if he hadn't changed course again."
Millar's eyes narrowed. "I see where you are going with this. On the surface it looks like Jack started to head our way, then veered off. Now you'd think that was because he then realised those fighters were on him. But…"
"But he must have known all about them before that!" Bilby finished for him. "As the back projection of the robot fighters' vector show that they would have been well within his scanning range."
"Forwarding vector information now." From the intercom.
"What can it mean?" Ingo asked.
"I don't know, but it sounds like one of Jack's smart arsed plans." He keyed the intercom.
"Pilot, I want no course changes. Stay exactly on the vector we transmitted to Jack."
"Affirmative Commander." The pilot did not sound too pleased at the idea.
Bilby sat back in his chair, then stretched forwards again. He set a countdown timer on the display, starting at sixteen minutes from the end of Jack's last transmission. He sat back again and decided to give his eyes a rest.
"Forwarding vector information now."
As time passed he could sense a change in the atmosphere in the room. He tried to ignore it, knowing a watched water steamer never boils. Finally he had to open them and found the other four boys huddled around the hologram. The counter reached zero and gave an anticlimactic beep.
The holoscreen showed the robot fighters still in pursuit of Jack's ship, projecting an intercept in two point four hours. The vectors of Jack's second last course change and their own headings had crossed.
Yet nothing else had happened.
Bilby turned to stare out of his window again, hoping to see something, but knowing that what ever was going on out there was certain to be invisible from his vantage point.
"Forwarding vector information now."
Splat! Something suddenly hit the window right in front of his face. He recoiled instinctively before catching himself and peering at the odd substance that had attached itself to the steelglass.
"Nano-fibre webbing…" he murmured.
It could only be one thing. "A webcaster! Jack's using a webcaster! He automated his vector signals and bailed out of his ship after the first message. That has to be it."
Millar's face was beaming. "If he didn't eject but simply opened the cockpit and jumped the girl fighters would have no way of knowing. There'd be no emissions to give him away. But if he got his calculations wrong by just a few percent…"
He shook his head, probably at the massive risk Jack had taken. "He must have got close enough to fire his webcaster." He switch the intercom on again. "Pilot, I'll need you to fire one of your docking webcasters please." He grinned. "But do it gently."

A few minutes later Jack emerged from the air lock and dropped into the chair next to Bilby. His dark skin glistened with sweat from his ordeal. Jack was not one to show his relief though. He grinned and stretched his feet out onto the data station in front of him.
"Tell you what. I sure am looking forward to a nice hot shower when we get back to the Comet."
"Don't get too comfortable." Millar said.
Jack eyebrows rose at that.
"Someone's going to have to go back out and get that fighter you know." Millar finished sternly.
The look on his face was enough to crack everyone else up.

C-Force Squadron,
Anti-Capital Ship Mission, Hope system
1930 hours GMT 2079-May-4

By now C-Force had carefully lined up an approach to orbit the moon designated Hope IIa. Without inertial dampers, only propellant thrusters, they knew it had to be perfect or they would over shoot and miss their opportunity to attack the girl carrier. They had formed a long single file formation, all within five kilometers to facilitate telepathic communication as long as possible. The moon drew closer and for the first time they began to feel the effects of its gravity. Though not as great as when they had accelerated to their present speed, the undampened force was still considerable.
But they needed more acceleration, both to allow them to reach the Barbarella as soon as possible, and to give them a good chance to evade the ships weapon systems before they could be properly targeted. And testing the moon's gravity was the only way to bring about the necessary course change and speed increase.
As his ship was slung around the moon in a tight arc Chris could see its green, pitted surface apparently rushing up to claim him. His altitude dropped so fast that to the naked eye he was sure he was about to crash. He double checked his calculations and found that he was still on course. One again he gave thanks that the planetoid had no atmosphere. It made things just easy enough to be on the right side of impossible.
Now he brought both his ships p-spheres online in repulsor configuration. Both were in the green and although his ship kept on dropping he was confident that he was going to skid back out into space.
A light blinked on his console, warning that the Gee force stress was approaching threshold level. Much more and he could lose consciousness. He imagined himself becoming another one of those impact craters. Then as the ground finally began to recede he rejected the thought with a shake of his head and broke the silence using an encrypted channel.
"OK, we're going to pull the old Red Leader to Blue Leader trick. Keep up the chatter and try to cover for Bobby. We're going to be coming in very hot, and we'll only get one pass each, so make every shot count. The transmitter must be destroyed."
Chris could not help but smile as he switched to an open frequency; one he knew the girls would be monitoring. Now in the final stage of his orbit, the moon would no longer be between his signal and the carrier. "Red Leader this is Blue Leader. My squadron is formed up and ready to attack. What is your status?"
Doug's voice replied. "Blue Leader, this is Red Leader. All my fighters are ready. Let's hammer that carrier."
"You beauty! Let's fry that sucker." Maher yelled.

Seventy four thousand kilometres away Bobby had moved into position and was able to scan the Barbarella on his scopes. Now he had to identify the location of the fighter control transmitter. He detected a large power emission on the underside of the carrier.
He then compared this to the specifications of an unmodified rapier class ship. There was no reason for it to be there.
That had to be it the transmitter.
He cleared his throat to broadcast on an open channel. Now to see if the shit hits the fan.
"Commander, your target is a large projecting dish below the main body of the superstructure. It's probably protected by a new looking thick plas-steel blister."

"Acknowledged Green Leader. Hold there with your squadron and keep us informed." Chris replied.
He completed his manoeuvre and as the moon continued to recede he started scanning for his target. In seconds emission readings resolved into a visual scan. Unlike the bulk of the Comet, the rapier class Barbarella was designed around a long, tapering cylinder with main engines in the rear, command section in the middle, guns and sensors at the front. This one had two huge bays slung under the cylinder on either side of the thick command section.
They had to be the fighter bays. Although automation had saved a lot of space, it was clear that many of the weapon systems had also been removed to allow for these modifications.
By some stroke of luck, most of these weapons had arcs that would not allow them to fire effectively at ships coming from directly below it. One reason for them to hug the surface of this moon, Chris thought. But he knew that only gave them a fair chance of success. The enemy was now fully aware of them and was turning slowly in an attempt to bring its weapons to bear.
Chris then switched his p-spheres to shield configuration, allowing him to effectively double their strength from the front. With only thrust vectoring it wasn't a smart way to fight if the girls launched fighters, but he hoped to be well out of their range before they could try.
Then the vacuum around him lit up with a mass of energy beams from the Barbarella's defensive batteries. His shields shrugged off a light hit as he ignored everything but looking for his target.
Boyd's broadcast signal added to the confusion. "There she is. Dead ahead!" He still of course could not even see the ship yet.
Chris had to turn down the noise from his helmet's sound system as even the carriers main guns sought to swat him from the sky. The ship loomed ahead of him as he flew straight in, heedless of the miss match in firepower.
Then gleaming ahead of him was his target. A blister of plas-steel just where Bobby had indicated. Ensuring the other boys would pick up his telemetry, he then simply signalled with the ancient brevity call of fighter pilots, "Tally Hoe!"
Chris fought the heavy controls to get lined up on the transmitter dish below the huge craft. Paradoxically, with all the ECM jamming pouring out from the vessel he had a better chance of hitting it with lasers and Hellfires than with guided missiles. He fired again and again as he passed, emptying both Hellfire launchers. But his angle of attack was not as close as he had hoped for and the transmitter's protective blister, although damaged, was still intact.
The C-Force commander shot past the enemy ship whose cannons turned to fire up at him. He kept firing in an attempt to keep their attention for as long as possible. However his great speed gave them little chance of hitting and soon they turned back to cover his original approach vector. The girls knew they were now safely beyond his range and that he could not possibly turn around for another pass. They needed their weapons ready for the rest of his squadron. He grimaced as he realised that was the end of the battle for him.

Bobby signalled. "The target is still transmitting. Kain, it's your turn now."

Kain had had an opportunity to slightly alter his course based on Chris's telemetry and he hurtled in on a perfect line to hit the transmitter. He lined up with his Hellfires but just before he could shoot a beam from an enemy cannon clipped through the side of his shields and knocked his ship spinning. With a frantic use of his thrusters he stabilised the ship but by then only had time for a few ineffective shots.

"Negative, Negative, it's just deflected off the surface." Bobby called.

Doug was next to make his pass. He too had corrected his line from Chris's initial run. Beams and missiles lanced past him as he made his move. Waiting to the last possible second he poured in the Hellfires and lasers and was rewarded with a large explosion from beneath the transmitter's armoured shielding.
Seconds passed before Bobby reported, his distance from the other ships beginning to cause an appreciable delay to his transmissions. "Target destroyed! The transmitter is off line. Well done captain."
Maher was making his own run now, and pumped in more fire to be sure of Doug's success. "Take that you tarts!"

They relaxed for a few seconds before suddenly Bobby yelled. "They're switching to a back up transmitter. The girls are using the radar dish on top of the hull."

Boyd called in. "I'm on it." Using telemetry from Maher and his thrusters at full power he managed to change course to allow him to make his pass in line with the radar's transmitter. Unfortunately, this brought him directly into the firing arcs of the ship's main guns. Energy blasts erupted all around him and he had to disable his helmet's sound system completely. He concentrated in near silence as he approached his target. At this range, the radar signal alone was enough to peel away his shields.
"Just hold on for another few seconds." He whispered to himself.
Boyd held his fire as the dish filled his forward view. Then, from an almost suicidal range, he emptied his Hellfire launchers and drained his lasers into its centre. He grimaced. Even with inertial dampers he could never have pulled up in time.
"Ah screw it."
He activated the ejector system and was thrown out at a ninety-degree angle to the rest of his ship, which continued on and smashed into the centre of the battered radar dish. Spinning through space he saw the resulting explosion and reckoned it looked to have put the radar out of action.
"Is that enough?" He called.
Seconds later a relieved sounding Bobby replied. "They have back up radar, but they aren't powerful enough to transmit the flight control signals. We've done it!"

Another few seconds passed before Chris signalled.
He had just been quietly but frantically trying plot Boyd's course in his ejector seat. Once he had it worked out he composed himself again.
"OK now it's time to sit back and hope the other boys hurry up and win the battle. Boyd, I've plotted an intercept vector for you. Should be able to pick you up before you get too cold. Then we wait for them to come and pick us up. All ships begin deceleration sequence."
The boys turned their ships around one hundred and eighty degrees and once again activated their ion drives. It was going to take a long time to slow down and eventually begin heading back to the Comet.
Chris watched as the moon and the Barbarella receded from view. With its location now known, its only means of controlling the robot fighters destroyed, and its main radar out of action he expected that soon the Carrier would withdraw. He signalled the Comet and wondered how long he would have to wait.

Robot Fighter XR7,
Hope system.
2015 hours GMT 2079-May-4

Having run out of ways to keep himself amused, Bobby sat slouched in the pilot's acceleration chair, head resting against the cool steelglass of the cockpit module's window. He had removed his stolen helmet earlier, the smell of hair spray finally proving too much for him. Too far from any of the combatants to be in any immediate danger, he felt a happy mix of tiredness and relaxation; free from the strange compulsions he had experienced earlier in the day. It was thus that he was drifting off to sleep when the radio sputtered into life.
On an encrypted channel.
"And I'm ordering you to continue the battle."
The voice was taut with frustration, and female. Snapping back into full wakefulness, Bobby recognised that it belonged to the Girl Governor, Dale.
A second voice responded. "Governor Craft, I am a full UGF Naval Captain. This is a military matter. Your titular rank gives you no authority to compel me in any way."
Bobby's eyes widened as he realised his stolen fighter was receiving a transmission between the two highest ranking UGF girls in the system. He then saw that his helmet had dropped off his knees and now rested on the control board. It must have activated a scan through all the available radio channels, and would have continued cycling through until by chance picking up this conversation.
"But we can..." static faded in to replace the voice as the radio continued cycling through the various channels. Bobby snatched up the helmet and quickly returned the dial back to where it had been.
The second voice, the Captain of Barbarella, had resumed. "You clearly do not appreciate the military situation. Repairs to our transmitting equipment will require days in space dock, until then we have no tactical control of our fighters."
Dale was not convinced. "Come out from behind that moon and transmit the location and targeting information directly to your fighters. I know it will not be as effective, but we still have a combined force of over four hundred fighters. They have less than three hundred."
Bobby sat in rapt attention as the conversation continued.
"That would be suicide in this situation. Don't you realise? The boys know where we are! Everything about this plan was predicated on them not knowing our location. Their carrier is much closer to us than our own fighters. Even now the Comet is preparing a strike force to come and finish the job started by their Special Forces. She herself may attempt to engage us."
"But my base..."
The Captain interrupted. "Will have to be evacuated and destroyed to prevent capture of the Ion Cannon technology."
"Those boys would never understand its workings."
"Apparently they understood it well enough to sabotage it, or do you claim that its timely demise was an accident?"
Dale's reply was incoherent.
The Captain interrupted her. "Enough! Our secondary Tach Drive is being brought on-line as we speak. It will be ready by the time we have orbited the planet. On the way I will transmit the last know location of the Comet to our fighters. You can collect as many of you own fighters as possible and meet me on the other side. Or you can stay here and die."
A secondary tach drive. Why didn't we think of that? We'll have to sit here for another day while the girls get away to warn the others.
"Damn it I want that boy dead." Even through the distortion Dale's voice wavered with emotion. "He kissed me." The last was said almost pleadingly. As though she could scarcely imagine a more humiliating experience.
Bobby burst out a hooting laugh. "Ha! You didn't mention that before Chris my boy."
He then realised that the channel was still open, but had gone silent. With horror Bobby lifted his helmet clear of the console and saw on its telltales that his microphone was still set to transmit.
All emotion gone, Dale resumed formally. "This frequency has been compromised. Change to frequency scanning protocol Y7. Now..."
This time the signal really did go dead, replaced by the familiar background static. Bobby did not really care though; he had picked up more valuable intelligence than he had any right to expect. And he also had a few choice things to say to Chris when he got back.

16. 'Mopping Up'

Drop Shuttle Delta Six, Enroute to UNHCV Comet
Orbit Hope II, Hope system
2240 hours GMT 2079-May-4

John O'Brien sat wrapped in a thermal blanket in the passenger section of the shuttle, cradling a steaming cup of coffee in both hands. The last eight or nine hours had been some of the most exciting, and frightening, of his life. Yet apparently he had missed all the real excitement, according to the marine sat across from him.
The marine had one leg in a splint after an accident during the landing. Captain Morris, not about to relax even after a Tachyon Burst from the fleeing Barbarella had been detected, had ordered a fully escorted assault on the planet's surface. The marines had taken this to heart but their spirited charge found no resistance. John's companion was their only casualty, caught in a rockslide while digging out the tunnel that had collapsed on the digger.
John still was not sure just how they had come to survive that, but at the time it seemed prudent to keep digging and carry out his mission. What they then discovered added a whole new mystery to explore, vast tunnels that certainly weren't natural and just as certainly had not been constructed by the girls. It looked like Dr Wong's theory was right, the planet had been terraformed. He had found himself facing a discovery not seen since the first Precursor artefact had been discovered on the moon.
The technicians Roberts and Jansen eventually came around to following his orders. It became so cold after the heating system failed that work was the only way to keep warm. In the end they proved so proficient that he had left them down there to continue the process of searching for the moon's tachyon resonance. Now all he could think of was getting back to the warm laboratory with his preliminary results.
He tried to rest his eyes and catch some needed sleep but the marine was still describing the landing at the girl's base. Apparently it was built into a mountain, and apparently the marines' attack was at least as interesting and important as the space battle the boys seemed to have won.
"They just set the place for self-destruct. Nothing left for us to use. The whole tower was gone. Still I think we got a few of the them robot fighters for the fly boys to rebuild their losses."
John nodded and tried to look interested, but he just did not have the energy to keep that up.
"I thought we should leave a garrison here. But I hear we'll be pulling out as soon as your resonance results have been calculated. That sure does sound like complicated stuff. Never even heard of tachyons before a few months back. Can you explain..."

C Force Commander's Log, UNHCV Comet
Tach Space,
2140 hours GMT 2079-May-6

...The remainder of the battle proved to be far more time consuming. Left to their own artificial intelligence, the robot fighters used their limited resources effectively to harass our efforts to secure the area around Hope II. Once we had eventually managed that, the robot's made several brilliantly clever attempts to keep us from leaving the system, in the end to no avail. About eighty of the ships, those that had originally launched from the planet, were involved in attempt to destroy C-Force before we could be rescued. Dale had to be behind that, according to Bobby I had managed to get seriously under the girl's skin. X-Force had once again come to my rescue and, I have to acknowledge, at considerable personal risk.
After a session with Dr Wong, Bobby was diagnosed with a psychotic illness brought about by the effects of Tach travel. Similar to the incapacitation caused when the Comet first returned to Earth, this condition is far more insidious, seemingly preying on a subconscious guilt and turning it into an obsession.
That the boy had been able to defeat it on his own was good news, though Wong maintained it was as likely to have been good fortune as any other factor. It is just one more problem to be faced as we struggle to complete this mission that has been assigned to us.
Still, providence seems to be with us to some degree. John O'Brien managed not only to survive, but stumbled upon conclusive proof that the planet had been terraformed by the Precursors. His team was also able to give us a possible trajectory for the moon. Even now we hurry towards it, at many times the speed of light. The unspoken question hangs over us, what will be left when we find it? Given the dangers of Tach travel we have already experienced, the inhabitants of Beta Base might very well not survive. Wong thinks that at best it is reasonable to assume that upon resuming tard the entire population of beta base will fall into a deep coma. That will leave them at the mercy of whoever finds them first. We have to make sure that is us.

THE END

C-Force and X-Force will return in
Bastion of Despair

If you have any queries or comments please mail: matt@frescom.com

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