No. Shut up. Just go away.
"Hey, kid."
Go away. It's nice here. All dark and warm. I don't wanna-
"Kid, don't make me try to perform CPR."
Something was lightly slapping Ryuga's face. When his eyes finally cracked open, his vision was white and hazy. Then, as he blinked, the fog cleared and the world came back into focus. He was still in the cockpit of the Crystal Heart, but now vaguely aware that he wasn't the right way up, somehow. But the majority of his vision was taken up by Laura's face - which was a little too close for his liking.
She a relieved sigh as she saw his eyes fix on her. "Thank gods, I thought I'd lost you. You alright?"
Ryuga blinked again. Then he groaned as pain flared in the front of his skull, and he raised his hand to his forehead.
"My head hurts," he complained.
"Easy, champ," the AI soothed. "You had your bell rung pretty bad. Concussion, I should think. There's no blood or anything, but you're gonna have a major headache for a bit."
Ryuga tried to collect his thoughts, which were swimming like a distressed frog in porridge. Memories were clouded together, and it was hard to pin any one of them down.
"What... what happened?" he stammered out.
"Magnesium charges. Bastard Benthians detonated one of their carriers. We got caught in the shockwave, but I managed to steady us. Be glad I didn't actually try CPR," Laura added, with a smirk. "Holograms don't breathe, so it wouldn't have worked. Less 'life saving technique', more 'aggressive makeout session'."
Ryuga went red, and was about to reply when the noise of approaching engines reached him. Looking up, he saw the shapes of four other Wyverns skimming rapidly in his direction - upside down. Groggily, he tilted his sticks and kept his eyes shut until he was sure he was the right way up. He could tell at once, from the wobbly way his craft righted, that something was wrong.
The comms opened, the screen fizzing like bad TV static before coming to life. And it was Piper, distress on her face, who spoke first.
"RYUGA!" she howled. "Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!"
"That was a nasty tumble, Rook," came Clint's low drawl next. "You look mighty beat up, if I may say so."
"What about me?!" Deimos looked offended. "I'm fairly certain my heart stopped beating for all of three seconds, and I've suffered abrasions from being thrown about, and-"
"Shut it, burger breath."
Magnus hovered close to Ryuga, jets humming quietly. From his cockpit, Ryuga could see the face of the unnoficial leader of the Wyverns peering out from beyond his own canopy up top.
"You okay, Ryuga?" His voice was quiet. "Status report."
Ryuga turned to look at his readouts. Even before he focused, he could see something was wrong. Sections of his ship, all down the right side, were illuminated in yellow to mark damage, and the right wing was red and flashing. He squinted to try and read the labels that blared out at him.
"Shields are down to 75%," he tried. "Quite a lot of shrapnel down my right flank. And my right stabilizer's... gone? Broken loose, I think. I'll be wobbly, at the very least."
Deimos let out a snort. "Join the club. We have nachos, don't double-dip."
"Doesn't look too bad." Piper had pulled into a hover to inspect the damaged wing. "I think it can be fixed. But it'd take time, and yours isn't a standard model. Heck, I dunno who even manufactures parts like these..."
"Any injuries?" Magnus pressed.
"Bumped my head," was the reply. "So I'm feeling a bit faint. But I'm still good to fly."
"Congrats." That was Clint, punctuating it with a bitter chuckle. "First injury on the job. Wear it with pride, kid."
There as a long silence as the Wyverns digested their situation. There was an air of despondency, a grey cloud hanging over everything despite their survival. Nobody seemed to want to look each other in the eye.
The silence was broken by Magnus.
"This is how it is, team," he explained. "We've lost the Monroe, unfortunately. The remaining CS's are pulling away from the fleet to safely engage the other freighters. Nothing we can do to help - our lasers can't dent those hulls. I'm trying to get through to McCreery, but-"
"Um, guys?"
Ryuga had seen a warning light flash on his radar. He looked down, and saw something marked out on the map - a red enemy signature, coming quickly from the south-west. It was large, larger than the frigates had been. And it was coming at considerable speed.
"I got something on my radar," he explained to the row of confused faces. "It's coming this way."
"You sure?" asked Clint. "I got nothin' on mine."
"Positive. It's coming and it's..."
A huge, metallic fin emerged from the water.
"...big."
By the time they'd turned to follow it, it had already reached the battlefield. The other ships never saw it coming. It slowed for the briefest of instants, then surged up into the air. Sunlight glinted off the silver-blue sides, metallic teeth gnashed in the artificial jaw. Ports split open in the hide of the thing, the cannons emerging like snakes rearing out of their burrows to strike.
And then the sword-like prow of the dreadnought, a goblin shark on the hunt, swung to point at the FS Triumphant.
The Wyverns watched with mouths agape.
"That," Laura surmised, "is a problem."
-------
"Oh, I'm sorry! Didn't you land-dwellers like our present?"
General McCreery was seething. The enemy ship had come so fast under the water, the operators hadn't detected it. And now every person in the fleet was panicking at the sight of it. Commanders were shouting down the lines at operators, who were shouting back at Hornet captains, who were shouting at everyone else. Not even his trained military ears could block out that amount of shouting.
The worst part was the hissing, sneering voice on the other end. There wasn't a face on the screen, but McCreery wished there was. He could have imagined himself punching it for having the gall to taunt him over the open channel.
"No matter," cackled the speaker. "We've got a much better one for you, right here! Deep Mother be praised! Long live the Emperor!" And with a decisive beep, the line went dead.
"Arrogant sod," McCreery muttered.
But his mind was already working. The capital ships were too far out, which left only the Wyverns and the corvettes. He knew at once that the corvettes would have no luck - they would most likely be shredded before they even got close. And he had no idea what had happened to the Wyverns. They'd gone off the radar the moment the first freighter had detonated.
But there was the one thing he could try.
"Sir!" came the shout of one operator. "What are your orders?"
Just what he wanted to hear.
"Prepare to fire the main cannon!" he barked. "Tell all units to get clear! And somebody patch me through to the Wyverns!"
"Roger!" The operator turned and passed the info on to the man next to him, who passed it on to someone else... Damn silly carry-on. Why they couldn't just tell the cannon crews to prepare the cannon first, instead of passing it on down five different people at first? Commanding anything these days was like pulling teeth.
But if it was a fight those Benthians wanted, well... He was gonna give them one.
"Sir, we have a signal! It's them!"
-------
"Wyvern Squad, can you hear me? This is General McCreery speaking!"
The Wyverns were rocketing back towards the battle when they heard the General's voice crackling in over the comms. Taken by surprise, nobody responded for a full three seconds. Then Ryuga reached over and tapped a key, bringing McCreery's face into view.
"Wing Five reporting, sir," he replied. "And, um, everyone else, too."
"Thank goodness, you're alright!" cried the General. "What's your situation?"
"Wing Five's taken damage," Magnus reported. "And I think he's had a concussion. But he says he's still good to fly, so we're letting him. We're en route to rendevous - what are your orders, General?"
"Keep your distance! We're readying our main cannon, so we'll need you out of the line of fire! Assist the other ships any way you can, but stand by for further orders! McCreery out!" The General quickly vanished from the comms before anyone could reply.
They soon caught up with the rest of the fleet. It had split into two groups, right down the middle, with the capital ships only just now turning to fire on the persistent freighters. The Hornets had followed, doing their best to keep the Benthian fighters away from the larger ships. That left only the Triumphant, pointed like a defiant arrow at the dreadnought, silent and grinning in mockery.
As the Wyverns watched, they saw a golden glow coming from the tip of the Triumphant.
"Think that's enough?" asked Deimos, worry creeping back into his voice.
"Gotta be," drawled Clint. "That's the same gun what brought down the Mad Titan of Ostaria. Nuthin' could stand up to that, right?"
Their thoughts were briefly interrupted by a loud thoom. Looking across, they saw one of the capital ships - the Celeste - had shot down one of the frigates, a beam punching a neat hole through the power core. Unable to discharge its payload, the manatee-like bulk sank downwards, trailing flames as it went.
"That's for the Monroe," Ryuga heard himself say. It surprised even himself.
"Well put, Rook," said Magnus.
They barely even heard Piper muttering under her breath.
"Three... two... one."
The Triumphant, wings spread to anchor itself, fired. The gigantic beam lanced down the middle of the parted fleet like the questing tongue of an angry dragon. The Wyvern pilots had to squint at the light it threw out, black angled shadows casting off of every surface. The piercing, whining roar of its passing filled the air. Beneath it, the seas boiled and hissed
It reached the Benthian ship...
...and struck thin air.
"WHAT?!"
There as a long silence as the Wyverns digested their situation. There was an air of despondency, a grey cloud hanging over everything despite their survival. Nobody seemed to want to look each other in the eye.
The silence was broken by Magnus.
"This is how it is, team," he explained. "We've lost the Monroe, unfortunately. The remaining CS's are pulling away from the fleet to safely engage the other freighters. Nothing we can do to help - our lasers can't dent those hulls. I'm trying to get through to McCreery, but-"
"Um, guys?"
Ryuga had seen a warning light flash on his radar. He looked down, and saw something marked out on the map - a red enemy signature, coming quickly from the south-west. It was large, larger than the frigates had been. And it was coming at considerable speed.
"I got something on my radar," he explained to the row of confused faces. "It's coming this way."
"You sure?" asked Clint. "I got nothin' on mine."
"Positive. It's coming and it's..."
A huge, metallic fin emerged from the water.
"...big."
By the time they'd turned to follow it, it had already reached the battlefield. The other ships never saw it coming. It slowed for the briefest of instants, then surged up into the air. Sunlight glinted off the silver-blue sides, metallic teeth gnashed in the artificial jaw. Ports split open in the hide of the thing, the cannons emerging like snakes rearing out of their burrows to strike.
And then the sword-like prow of the dreadnought, a goblin shark on the hunt, swung to point at the FS Triumphant.
The Wyverns watched with mouths agape.
"That," Laura surmised, "is a problem."
-------
"Oh, I'm sorry! Didn't you land-dwellers like our present?"
General McCreery was seething. The enemy ship had come so fast under the water, the operators hadn't detected it. And now every person in the fleet was panicking at the sight of it. Commanders were shouting down the lines at operators, who were shouting back at Hornet captains, who were shouting at everyone else. Not even his trained military ears could block out that amount of shouting.
The worst part was the hissing, sneering voice on the other end. There wasn't a face on the screen, but McCreery wished there was. He could have imagined himself punching it for having the gall to taunt him over the open channel.
"No matter," cackled the speaker. "We've got a much better one for you, right here! Deep Mother be praised! Long live the Emperor!" And with a decisive beep, the line went dead.
"Arrogant sod," McCreery muttered.
But his mind was already working. The capital ships were too far out, which left only the Wyverns and the corvettes. He knew at once that the corvettes would have no luck - they would most likely be shredded before they even got close. And he had no idea what had happened to the Wyverns. They'd gone off the radar the moment the first freighter had detonated.
But there was the one thing he could try.
"Sir!" came the shout of one operator. "What are your orders?"
Just what he wanted to hear.
"Prepare to fire the main cannon!" he barked. "Tell all units to get clear! And somebody patch me through to the Wyverns!"
"Roger!" The operator turned and passed the info on to the man next to him, who passed it on to someone else... Damn silly carry-on. Why they couldn't just tell the cannon crews to prepare the cannon first, instead of passing it on down five different people at first? Commanding anything these days was like pulling teeth.
But if it was a fight those Benthians wanted, well... He was gonna give them one.
"Sir, we have a signal! It's them!"
-------
"Wyvern Squad, can you hear me? This is General McCreery speaking!"
The Wyverns were rocketing back towards the battle when they heard the General's voice crackling in over the comms. Taken by surprise, nobody responded for a full three seconds. Then Ryuga reached over and tapped a key, bringing McCreery's face into view.
"Wing Five reporting, sir," he replied. "And, um, everyone else, too."
"Thank goodness, you're alright!" cried the General. "What's your situation?"
"Wing Five's taken damage," Magnus reported. "And I think he's had a concussion. But he says he's still good to fly, so we're letting him. We're en route to rendevous - what are your orders, General?"
"Keep your distance! We're readying our main cannon, so we'll need you out of the line of fire! Assist the other ships any way you can, but stand by for further orders! McCreery out!" The General quickly vanished from the comms before anyone could reply.
They soon caught up with the rest of the fleet. It had split into two groups, right down the middle, with the capital ships only just now turning to fire on the persistent freighters. The Hornets had followed, doing their best to keep the Benthian fighters away from the larger ships. That left only the Triumphant, pointed like a defiant arrow at the dreadnought, silent and grinning in mockery.
As the Wyverns watched, they saw a golden glow coming from the tip of the Triumphant.
"Think that's enough?" asked Deimos, worry creeping back into his voice.
"Gotta be," drawled Clint. "That's the same gun what brought down the Mad Titan of Ostaria. Nuthin' could stand up to that, right?"
Their thoughts were briefly interrupted by a loud thoom. Looking across, they saw one of the capital ships - the Celeste - had shot down one of the frigates, a beam punching a neat hole through the power core. Unable to discharge its payload, the manatee-like bulk sank downwards, trailing flames as it went.
"That's for the Monroe," Ryuga heard himself say. It surprised even himself.
"Well put, Rook," said Magnus.
They barely even heard Piper muttering under her breath.
"Three... two... one."
The Triumphant, wings spread to anchor itself, fired. The gigantic beam lanced down the middle of the parted fleet like the questing tongue of an angry dragon. The Wyvern pilots had to squint at the light it threw out, black angled shadows casting off of every surface. The piercing, whining roar of its passing filled the air. Beneath it, the seas boiled and hissed
It reached the Benthian ship...
...and struck thin air.
"WHAT?!"
"HOLY SHIT!
"NOT GOOD!"
The beam fractured just in front of the dreadnought, tongues of light radiating from the impact point. Steam rose into the air. The ship's hide glimmered as though a spotlight had been thrown onto it. But it remained obstinately standing, the jaws parted as if laughing.
The beam died down.
Ryuga's vision, having already taken a beating once, was slow to clear. But when it did, he saw that the air around the dreadnought's front was shimmering a greenish haze, as if he were viewing it through swamp fog. As he watched, it spread backwards, enveloping the length of the ship in a loose oval like a shimmering emerald stone.
"That's some shield!" he heard Piper gasp. And he had to agree.
"So much for your Mad Titan," Deimos muttered.
Clint didn't reply to that barb. Nor did he get the chance, as a hissing voice suddenly came over the open channel, cutting him off. Ryuga tried to picture what it belonged to, and came up with something that crawled out of a nightmare on spindly legs.
"Is that the best you land-dwellers have?" the voice sneered. "Allow us to show you how it's done!"
The dreadnought had been immobile until now, sitting quietly behind the shield. But now the engines roared to life, pushing it forwards. The guns on its body swivelled to face the ARM ships as it cruised closer. The jaws parted, and a cloud of fighters and bombers spewed forth from between the iron teeth.
But it was when the prow split into two halves, electrical tendrils crackling between, that Ryuga realized what was going to happen.
"Guys," he began, "that's-"
The beam fractured just in front of the dreadnought, tongues of light radiating from the impact point. Steam rose into the air. The ship's hide glimmered as though a spotlight had been thrown onto it. But it remained obstinately standing, the jaws parted as if laughing.
The beam died down.
Ryuga's vision, having already taken a beating once, was slow to clear. But when it did, he saw that the air around the dreadnought's front was shimmering a greenish haze, as if he were viewing it through swamp fog. As he watched, it spread backwards, enveloping the length of the ship in a loose oval like a shimmering emerald stone.
"That's some shield!" he heard Piper gasp. And he had to agree.
"So much for your Mad Titan," Deimos muttered.
Clint didn't reply to that barb. Nor did he get the chance, as a hissing voice suddenly came over the open channel, cutting him off. Ryuga tried to picture what it belonged to, and came up with something that crawled out of a nightmare on spindly legs.
"Is that the best you land-dwellers have?" the voice sneered. "Allow us to show you how it's done!"
The dreadnought had been immobile until now, sitting quietly behind the shield. But now the engines roared to life, pushing it forwards. The guns on its body swivelled to face the ARM ships as it cruised closer. The jaws parted, and a cloud of fighters and bombers spewed forth from between the iron teeth.
But it was when the prow split into two halves, electrical tendrils crackling between, that Ryuga realized what was going to happen.
"Guys," he began, "that's-"
The rail gun, for want of a more dramatic word, fired.
-------
"BRACE FOR IMPACT!"
Had the shot been dead on, those might have been McCreery's last words. Even so, the force with which it punctured their right flank forced the Triumphant backwards, throwing the prow upwards and to the left. Almost everyone was flung off their feet, tumbling backwards across the deck. The crashing, tearing BOOM filled the air and deadened all sound.
McCreery thought he'd gone deaf. He couldn't hear a thing. All he knew was that he was hanging onto the railings of his platform and his arms were beginning to ache. Then, by degrees, he heard voices, which slowly began to become more focused and distinct. The ringing stopped, and he began to discern different things, like the blaring of alarms and the whine of an Arc Engine under stress
His hat had gone missing. Damnation. It had been a good hat, too.
"Loud and clear, sir," Magnus replied. But before McCreery could focus on him properly, the Lumian's voice cut in and added even more confusion to the already hectic situation
"Did you see that?!" she practically squealed. "How many kilothaums was that?! I'd love to find out how they generate that much power!"
"Tell that to our repair crews, Piper!" The General did his best to avoid sounding frantic. "We're taking evasive manouveres, but I don't know how much time we have before that cannon fires again! If we take another hit like that, we'll be done for!"
"What should we do, General?" That was Ryuga, his face showing his usual expression of constant concern. It was still strange to the older man to see his face in there, primarily because it did not look like it belonged there. But he'd placed it there, against his own better judgement, and now he had to deal with the fact he was directly giving orders to this... well, boy.
McCreery tried to compose himself above the shouting and alarms.
"There must be," he said, slowly, "a power source for that shield. An external one, judging by the shape of it. If you can find a way past, you'll have to take it down so we can fire another shot."
"Us?!" wailed Deimos. "Why is it always us?!"
"Because you're the best hope we have, Deimos!" snapped McCreery. "It's the only way we can take that ship down before it scuppers us!"
"Say no more, General," drawled Clint in his usual easy manner. "We got this. Wyverns out."
"So," said Clint. "Anyone got a plan?"
"Not me," said Magnus. "Piper?"
"Not a thing," replied Piper. "You got any ideas, Deimos?"
"Hey, don't look at me! That shield just blocked a giant laser! I haven't any-"
With a grunt of effort, the General pulled himself as upright as he could manage.
"Status report," he gasped out.
"Shields are compromised," came a voice from somewhere. "All starboard guns are offline and almost all the decks have been breached. No survivors. We're sealing off the damaged sections, but we're getting power fluctuations, so almost everything isn't responding."
The General groaned. Things had rapidly gone to Styx, and no mistake. No broadside guns, no shields and a Thaumic rail gun to contend with. A rail gun wielded by a dreadnought that, on the next shot, didn't intend to miss. The bomber assault on the command tower, back at Capital City, seemed like a pleasant stroll in the park right now.
"Evasive manoeuvres, at once," he demanded. And then, whilst that happened, he turned and slammed the communications button like a lifeline. The faces of the Flying Aces appeared in front of him, all in various states of emotional turmoil. Except for Piper, who looked like she'd walked in on her favourite boy band during rehearsals.
"Wyvern Squadron, do you hear me?" he croaked.
"Loud and clear, sir," Magnus replied. But before McCreery could focus on him properly, the Lumian's voice cut in and added even more confusion to the already hectic situation
"Did you see that?!" she practically squealed. "How many kilothaums was that?! I'd love to find out how they generate that much power!"
"Tell that to our repair crews, Piper!" The General did his best to avoid sounding frantic. "We're taking evasive manouveres, but I don't know how much time we have before that cannon fires again! If we take another hit like that, we'll be done for!"
"What should we do, General?" That was Ryuga, his face showing his usual expression of constant concern. It was still strange to the older man to see his face in there, primarily because it did not look like it belonged there. But he'd placed it there, against his own better judgement, and now he had to deal with the fact he was directly giving orders to this... well, boy.
McCreery tried to compose himself above the shouting and alarms.
"There must be," he said, slowly, "a power source for that shield. An external one, judging by the shape of it. If you can find a way past, you'll have to take it down so we can fire another shot."
"Us?!" wailed Deimos. "Why is it always us?!"
"Because you're the best hope we have, Deimos!" snapped McCreery. "It's the only way we can take that ship down before it scuppers us!"
"Say no more, General," drawled Clint in his usual easy manner. "We got this. Wyverns out."
The comms went dead. General McCreery stared at the empty space, then passed his hand over his eyes. This was it, then. Two things were going to happen. Either the Wyverns made their usual legendary feat of derring-do, or he died in a fireball. One of those seemed the more likely outcome, and he dearly wished it wasn't.
Then he straightened up and adjusted his epaulettes. If he was going to die, then damn it, he was going to give those saltwater freaks a hard time killing him. As he heard his operators resume their seats, he spoke, determination turning his voice to grit.
"All Hornets, engage the fighters and bombers! Corvettes and capital ships, find a way past that shield! Prepare the main cannon for another shot on my signal! And will someone find my damn hat?!"
-------
-------
"Not me," said Magnus. "Piper?"
"Not a thing," replied Piper. "You got any ideas, Deimos?"
"Hey, don't look at me! That shield just blocked a giant laser! I haven't any-"
But Ryuga wasn't listening. Laura had materialized and was pointing at the radar, where the dreadnought was outlined as a sleek red blob.
"You see that, champ?"
Ryuga looked. One of the ship's turrets had turned to fire upon a nearby corvette, the searing green bolt punching a neat hole through its hull. But even as his heart leaped in agony of the loss, the former mechanic's eyes noted an oddity. A gap in the green haze that formed the shield, big enough to accomodate the passage of the laser. And as the beam died away, task completed, the gap closed up once again.
His mind, flickering for a reference point, grasped onto a memory.
"Just like the attack carrier," he gasped.
"Hmm? You say something, Rook?"
"Just like the attack carrier," he gasped.
"Hmm? You say something, Rook?"
Ryuga blinked, and was back in the real world. The other Wyverns were looking at him, confused, awaiting a response. And suddenly, he knew exactly what he had to do and what he needed to do to make it happen. The only stumbling block was convincing the others. And he didn't have much time to do it.
His grip on his sticks tightened.
His grip on his sticks tightened.
"I have a plan," he said. "But it's risky. Follow me."
With no further word, he turned his craft and accelerated, heading straight for the dreadnought. Immediately, he noted the wonky way he was flying - the Crystal Heart was listing to one side on its axis, and that turn had been too sharp. But he kept going, ignorant of the fresh waves of Benthian fighters and bombers buzzing through the air.
With no further word, he turned his craft and accelerated, heading straight for the dreadnought. Immediately, he noted the wonky way he was flying - the Crystal Heart was listing to one side on its axis, and that turn had been too sharp. But he kept going, ignorant of the fresh waves of Benthian fighters and bombers buzzing through the air.
In short order, he heard the hum of their engines as the others caught up to him. Silence lingered for a time as they followed, keeping pace and following his straight course towards the enemy. In the distance, he saw the last bomb-rigged freighter go down in a puncture-filled wreck - the remaining capital ship was joining the fray.
"Do you actually have a plan, Rook?" asked Magnus, suddenly.
"Affirmative."
"Now, it seems to me," he went on, "that this shield is based on the same principle. If it could block a shot from the Triumphant's cannon, then how did the rail gun not rebound on itself? In order to fire on anything, they'd need to collapse part of their shield, wouldn't they? So what can we do in the brief time they do that?
He waited a while for the penny to drop. It took a while.
"...I knew it," groaned Deimos, dropping his snout into his palms. "He's cracked. That bang on the head turned him loco."
"No, he's right!" cried Piper, beaming with excitement "That's genius! We get one of their turrets to aim at us, wait for the shield to drop..."
"And then we slip past," Magnus finished, nodding. "Good thinking, Ryuga."
"No kiddin'?" Clint laughed. "That kid just spoke my language! I'm on board with this!"
Ryuga couldn't help but grin at that one. Knowing that he'd secured the trust of the others made things easier, and the enthusiastic approval by the more seasoned pilots was the cherry on top. He glanced at his comms screen and saw all their faces, in various states of smiling, grinning or almost vibrating out of their seats. Laura, in front of him, threw him a thumbs up.
"I still think he's crazy," muttered Deimos. But nobody paid attention
They were approaching the shield now. The surface of it was slightly shiny, like old glass, yet it quivered like water. Just beyond it, everything was hazy and blurred, with distance hard to judge. Hornets swarmed futiley around it, mixed up with the Benthian fighters in a chaotic dogfight.
The turret that had taken the corvette down had noticed the approaching craft. The barrel of it looked like a railway tunnel as it turned to face them.
"Ah," cackled the voice from earlier. "Somebody wants to play, eh?"
The interior of the barrel began to glow.
"You sure about this, Rook?" Magnus asked.
"It's our best shot," Ryuga countered. "If we don't do it now, we'll never get another one." He saw Laura appear to his right and mouth the words five seconds, pointing at the gun.
The other man shrugged. "Your choice, kid."
The gun was rapidly growing brighter. A hissing sound filled the air.
"My choice..."
He blinked, and almost missed the hole open up in the green haze. It was wider than the gun's circumference - it needed to be to accomodate the laser. And, if one aimed just right, just about enough for a ship to-
"NOW!"
Engines roared. Light flashed.
Ryuga couldn't help but grin at that one. Knowing that he'd secured the trust of the others made things easier, and the enthusiastic approval by the more seasoned pilots was the cherry on top. He glanced at his comms screen and saw all their faces, in various states of smiling, grinning or almost vibrating out of their seats. Laura, in front of him, threw him a thumbs up.
"I still think he's crazy," muttered Deimos. But nobody paid attention
They were approaching the shield now. The surface of it was slightly shiny, like old glass, yet it quivered like water. Just beyond it, everything was hazy and blurred, with distance hard to judge. Hornets swarmed futiley around it, mixed up with the Benthian fighters in a chaotic dogfight.
The turret that had taken the corvette down had noticed the approaching craft. The barrel of it looked like a railway tunnel as it turned to face them.
"Ah," cackled the voice from earlier. "Somebody wants to play, eh?"
The interior of the barrel began to glow.
"You sure about this, Rook?" Magnus asked.
"It's our best shot," Ryuga countered. "If we don't do it now, we'll never get another one." He saw Laura appear to his right and mouth the words five seconds, pointing at the gun.
The other man shrugged. "Your choice, kid."
The gun was rapidly growing brighter. A hissing sound filled the air.
"My choice..."
He blinked, and almost missed the hole open up in the green haze. It was wider than the gun's circumference - it needed to be to accomodate the laser. And, if one aimed just right, just about enough for a ship to-
"NOW!"
Engines roared. Light flashed.
-------
McCreery saw the turret fire. But with the ship beyond the radius of Triumphant's radar, he wasn't quite sure what had happened. He had only the vague idea that the Wyverns had flown off towards it, with Ryuga in the lead. And then the thing had fired, and then...
The entire bridge had gone silent, also unsure of what had happened.
Then a voice broke in on the comms. Crackly and muffled, but distinctly a voice.
"This is Wing Five! We're through the enemy shield!"
The command bridge went wild.
-------
"What?! How did they get in?! Shoot them down, you idiots!"
"What?! How did they get in?! Shoot them down, you idiots!"
Ryuga's
senses were assaulted on all sides. His ears were filled with the enemy
commander's indignant screaming, and his eyes wilted beneath the
glaring light of the laser. Squinting past the blinding cacophony,
he banked the Crystal Heart until it skimmed over the side of the
dreadnought, the silver-blue metal hissing underneath him. Thaumic bolts
lashed out at him too late to hit, whistling by the hull of his own
craft.
"Everybody make it?" That was Magnus over the comms, finally shutting out the hissing voice on the open channel.
"Barely scratched, my man," drawled Clint, easily. On his radar, Ryuga saw the others falling in behind his own ship, forming the characteristic Flying Ace arrowhead. Deimos' craft was still wobbly, but it looked almost normal compared to how crooked the Crystal Heart felt to pilot.
They soared down the length of the destroyer towards the rear, where the tail of the shark ended and the engines flared out. Banks of smaller guns swivelled around to meet them as they approached.
"Everybody make it?" That was Magnus over the comms, finally shutting out the hissing voice on the open channel.
"Barely scratched, my man," drawled Clint, easily. On his radar, Ryuga saw the others falling in behind his own ship, forming the characteristic Flying Ace arrowhead. Deimos' craft was still wobbly, but it looked almost normal compared to how crooked the Crystal Heart felt to pilot.
They soared down the length of the destroyer towards the rear, where the tail of the shark ended and the engines flared out. Banks of smaller guns swivelled around to meet them as they approached.
"I've done the analysis!" Piper chipped in. "Shield generator's on the back, just behind the command bridge!"
Laura pouted, annoyed at having her thunder stolen. Ryuga didn't notice.
Laura pouted, annoyed at having her thunder stolen. Ryuga didn't notice.
"Where all those guns are?!" Deimos voice was coming as an almost perpetual, high-pitched scream. Funny, I thought that would be me by now.
"Seems to me," put in Magnus, "that Ryuga's got the best shot."
Piper's eyes went wide. "With a damaged wing, Magnus?!"
"He's got this far with it. And his ship has the stronger weapons. Think you can pull it off, Rook?"
Ryuga immediately realized what was happening. This was Magnus testing him. He'd let him take the initiative so far, and now he wanted to see tif he had the guts to carry it through, despite his damage. And if he couldn't, then as far as that man cared, putting him in that cockpit was a mistake. Nervousness crept in like a prowling spider.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Laura mouth something.
You got this, champ.
"I think I can," he replied. "But I'll need a clear run. Can you-?"
"Say no more," replied Magnus. "All Wings, form up and follow my lead. I got us a flight plan."
"Seems to me," put in Magnus, "that Ryuga's got the best shot."
Piper's eyes went wide. "With a damaged wing, Magnus?!"
"He's got this far with it. And his ship has the stronger weapons. Think you can pull it off, Rook?"
Ryuga immediately realized what was happening. This was Magnus testing him. He'd let him take the initiative so far, and now he wanted to see tif he had the guts to carry it through, despite his damage. And if he couldn't, then as far as that man cared, putting him in that cockpit was a mistake. Nervousness crept in like a prowling spider.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Laura mouth something.
You got this, champ.
"I think I can," he replied. "But I'll need a clear run. Can you-?"
"Say no more," replied Magnus. "All Wings, form up and follow my lead. I got us a flight plan."
The other Wyverns rushed ahead of Ryuga, keeping the V-shape as tight as possible. Then, just short of the tail's end, they swung around to point themselves down the length of the ship towards the prow. The turrets were turning again, trying to keep the approaching targets in sight. Following a short distance behind, Ryuga could see their double barrels lighting up as they prepared to take their first shots.
And, beyond them, a black, cylindrical shape squatting behind the dorsal fin, speckled with green nodes that pulsed gently.
The shield generator.
"Attack Run Delta!" he heard Magnus yell. And the XK-05's swooped down, keeping low, all of their guns blazing at once. The foremost turrets went up in flames, torn apart by the barrage. But the remaining guns responded with equal fury, scarlet bolts filling the air. The attacking ships wobbled, the slipstream of the thaumic lasers buffeting them about.
Then a stray bolt struck Clint's Wyvern.
Ryuga gave a cry as he saw the sparks washing over the craft. He heard a yell of "Damn it!" over the comms as Clint banked and accelerated away from the guns, trailing smoke. The others peeled off too, splitting up in different directions, pursued by the onslaught of laser fire.
"I'm hit!" Clint shouted. "My targeting's gone like a light!"
"It's no good, Rook! We can't withstand that much firepower!" Magnus sounded frantic. "You're gonna have to make that shot without us!"
At any other time, Ryuga would have wanted to scream. Four trained super-pilots couldn't breach a bank of guns, so what hope did he have? But this was a different Ryuga, and he could see the gap that they'd opened. A clear line right down the middle, the front of the generator exposed. The turrets had given up and were turning to meet him, looking to repeat their earlier success.
Not this time.
"It's okay," he said as he swooped down. "I got this."
Magnus' face was blank. "What do you-?"
He kicked a pedal.
With a furious roar, the Crystal Heart turned a somersault. The wings snapped closed, the jets unfurled, a jarring CLANG rent the air. The next moment, Ryuga's ship had sprouted legs and was sprinting across the dreadnought's hull, straight towards the guns and the generator. He thought he heard Piper squeal something, but that didn't matter - his focus utterly was on the target.
The ship raced under the barrels of the guns, too fast and too low to hit. But they tried anyway, and Ryuga saw them detonate like fireworks around him from the corner of his eyes. His shots struck one node, then another and another, ripping a hole in the side of the generator, followed by a Plasma Bomb that turned the whole thing into twisted scrap.
The ship raced under the barrels of the guns, too fast and too low to hit. But they tried anyway, and Ryuga saw them detonate like fireworks around him from the corner of his eyes. His shots struck one node, then another and another, ripping a hole in the side of the generator, followed by a Plasma Bomb that turned the whole thing into twisted scrap.
"Shield's down!" Laura hollered. "Book it!"
Kicking the pedal again, Ryuga felt the legs fold back up and the jets roar into life. He accelerated, only vaguely aware that the glassy green haze was gone from his vision. The other Wyverns formed up around him, matching his speed as they raced away from the wreckage they'd left behind.
In the distance, the Triumphant had righted itself. The dreadnought was turning to face it, but it was too late.
The prow was glowing.
-------
"Sir, the shield's down! Main cannon is ready to fire! Should we-"
"To Styx with the countdown, let them have it!"
-------
This time, the beam wasn't stopped. It punched through the dreadnought and out the other side, the impact throwing it backwards through the air. Fire and burnt metal flew everywere as explosions ran down the hull like bursting boils. The jaw, twisted and blackened, came loose and fell away. A scream of fury and despair rent the open channel.
Then it exploded. Light and sound filled every space. The air shook.
And then... silence.
The cloud of orange flame and black smoke billowed into the sky. The Benthian fighters, seeing the destruction, gathering in a body and fled, diving for the ocean. Hornets pursued them for a short distance before giving up, turning back to the fleet. The larger ships were beginning to converge.
Inside the Wyverns, you couldn't have heard a pin drop.
"-fuckin' shit, Rook, that made the Hyperion Run look like two lost steers-"
"-bipedal walking mode, why didn't you tell me, that's amazing, I wanna-"
"-thought I was seeing things, how did you even do that, I couldn't have even-"
Magnus was silent. But Ryuga didn't need to hear his voice or see his face to know it was a stamp of approval. Nor did he need to see Laura's expression when her voice cut in over the rabble, practically a purr of admiration.
"Great work, Champ. That was all you."
He felt a huge grin creep onto his face, and waited until the shouting died down.
"Thanks, everyone," he whispered. He didn't have any other words. What else could he say that would have done the monent justice?
General McCreery promptly interrupted things by appearing on the screen. His eyes had a wild look about them, as though he'd been watching a winning football game. His moustache was on end and his hat was slightly askew. He looked as though he wanted to start a war dance right where he stood.
"Great work, Wyvern Squadron!" he cried. "You've given those Benthians something to worry about! And with luck, they won't go anywhere near Todenwald's shores for a long while! Was it Ryuga who made that shot?"
"Yeah, that was him," laughed Clint. "Shoulda seen the little bastard go!"
Ryuga felt himself going red.
"Outstanding work!" The General gave a hearty laugh. "You've done enough now, troops! Get yourself back to the Triumphant double-time so we can take care of repairs and medical! And perhaps congratulations and a generous reward are in order! McCreery over and out!"
His vanishing was the cue for cheering and whooping. It was as if a storm had passed, and they were the lucky survivors throwing middle fingers at fate. And amonsgt them, despite himself, Ryuga cheered loudest of all. Not just for himself, but for his allies, comrades in arms and... well, to be honest, friends.
This was a moment he wouldn't forget in a hurry.
"Well," said Magnus, at last, "back to the ship. Don't want to keep the general waiting, right?"
"Of course not!" mooed Deimos, a broad grin on his muzzle. "The sooner we get fixed up and our bruises mended, the better!"
"I reckon," added Clint with a smirk, "that this deserves a celebration. Don't you?"
Piper laughed. "Last one home pays for drinks!"
Raucous shouting followed as the Wyverns took off at top speed.
In the distance, the Triumphant had righted itself. The dreadnought was turning to face it, but it was too late.
The prow was glowing.
-------
"Sir, the shield's down! Main cannon is ready to fire! Should we-"
"To Styx with the countdown, let them have it!"
-------
This time, the beam wasn't stopped. It punched through the dreadnought and out the other side, the impact throwing it backwards through the air. Fire and burnt metal flew everywere as explosions ran down the hull like bursting boils. The jaw, twisted and blackened, came loose and fell away. A scream of fury and despair rent the open channel.
Then it exploded. Light and sound filled every space. The air shook.
And then... silence.
The cloud of orange flame and black smoke billowed into the sky. The Benthian fighters, seeing the destruction, gathering in a body and fled, diving for the ocean. Hornets pursued them for a short distance before giving up, turning back to the fleet. The larger ships were beginning to converge.
Inside the Wyverns, you couldn't have heard a pin drop.
"-fuckin' shit, Rook, that made the Hyperion Run look like two lost steers-"
"-bipedal walking mode, why didn't you tell me, that's amazing, I wanna-"
"-thought I was seeing things, how did you even do that, I couldn't have even-"
Magnus was silent. But Ryuga didn't need to hear his voice or see his face to know it was a stamp of approval. Nor did he need to see Laura's expression when her voice cut in over the rabble, practically a purr of admiration.
"Great work, Champ. That was all you."
He felt a huge grin creep onto his face, and waited until the shouting died down.
"Thanks, everyone," he whispered. He didn't have any other words. What else could he say that would have done the monent justice?
General McCreery promptly interrupted things by appearing on the screen. His eyes had a wild look about them, as though he'd been watching a winning football game. His moustache was on end and his hat was slightly askew. He looked as though he wanted to start a war dance right where he stood.
"Great work, Wyvern Squadron!" he cried. "You've given those Benthians something to worry about! And with luck, they won't go anywhere near Todenwald's shores for a long while! Was it Ryuga who made that shot?"
"Yeah, that was him," laughed Clint. "Shoulda seen the little bastard go!"
Ryuga felt himself going red.
"Outstanding work!" The General gave a hearty laugh. "You've done enough now, troops! Get yourself back to the Triumphant double-time so we can take care of repairs and medical! And perhaps congratulations and a generous reward are in order! McCreery over and out!"
His vanishing was the cue for cheering and whooping. It was as if a storm had passed, and they were the lucky survivors throwing middle fingers at fate. And amonsgt them, despite himself, Ryuga cheered loudest of all. Not just for himself, but for his allies, comrades in arms and... well, to be honest, friends.
This was a moment he wouldn't forget in a hurry.
"Well," said Magnus, at last, "back to the ship. Don't want to keep the general waiting, right?"
"Of course not!" mooed Deimos, a broad grin on his muzzle. "The sooner we get fixed up and our bruises mended, the better!"
"I reckon," added Clint with a smirk, "that this deserves a celebration. Don't you?"
Piper laughed. "Last one home pays for drinks!"
Raucous shouting followed as the Wyverns took off at top speed.
~THE END~
"Absolutely. No mistakes this time."
"And you're positive about this?"
"Absolutely. No mistakes this time."
"Very well. Carry on."
The private line went dead with a click. McCreery leaned back in his seat and raised a hand to his temple.
"Of course it would have been Earth..."
RYUGA KANZUKI AND LAURA
will return in 2019
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