Operation Chimera (13 page)

“Hah,” said Michael. “Didn’t they used to install those droids in every fighter before they came up with the internal AI?”

“Bah,” Keg waved both arms at Michael. “Those zero-mass pansies can’t do a damn thing about exterior hull damage. And I can still calculate navigation waypoints just as fast; not to mention”―Keg held one arm up in triumph―“I can make you coffee.”

“Oh, this is going to be a riot.” Liam patted it on the side and climbed the stairs. “Come on, then.”

“He gets a coffee maker?” Emma whined. “I want a coffee maker.”

Keg held both arms up. “And a full bathroom!”

“I can barely fit a sack of chips in that thing, much less a coffee machine,” Emma grumbled at the Mosquito.

“Since your squad came up one pilot short, and given your flight performance, they assigned me to be your number two.” Keg bowed at Liam again, as much as a box can bow. “There’s a full stock of emergency plating, fuses, wire patches…”

Aaron backed away as the bot rambled on through an itemized list, not wanting to attract its attention. He climbed into his Glaive, leaving the canopy up and his helmet off as he ran through the preflight check. Emma did a walk-around inspection of her Mosquito, examining the launch doors of the dumb-fire rocket pods on either side of the main body. When she was satisfied all seemed in order, she vaulted into the cockpit and settled in to her new home. For once in her life, she was happy to be smallish.

Michael, after a walk-around of his own, climbed into the Glaive’s roomy cockpit and settled in. He could not, like Liam, get up and walk around inside, but the seat was comparable to first-class shuttle travel. The scent of new fabric and electrical sealant permeated it; these fighters had not yet seen real action. He squeezed the corner of the black cloth seat while waiting for the diagnostic procedure to finish. He was suspicious of the clean result, and even more distrustful of the second clean result. One by one, systems came back with ‘…OK’ on the far right side of the primary display. They would be launching soon, he had no time to check deeper. Whatever Aaron was up to, he only hoped it was some egotistical or juvenile prank. Since the diag process missed it, it could not be too major.

“Alright, Green Wing. We’re on standby until we drop out of jump. As soon as The
Manhattan
transits back to standard space, we are launching.”

Michael closed his eyes, listening to a series of “Rogers” come back over the comm. Each time someone spoke, a small holographic helmet or head appeared above his console. The last apparition, Keg, popped up with a loud cheer and flailing stick arms. “Let’s goooooo get ‘em!”

s Commander Grey ready to launch his fighters?” Driscoll asked.

Lieutenant-Commander S’lestra told Ensign Blair to verify status with the hangar deck. A moment later, the Ensign nodded.

“Yesss, Captain,” S’lestra said. “Awaiting your ordersss.”

Driscoll shot Commander Teague a questioning look.

At that, she went to stand behind Lieutenant Hardy. “Helm, time to co-ordinates?”

The Captain watched this with satisfaction. Less than a day working together and Commander Teague was already anticipating his needs.

This’ll work out well.

Hardy kept a wary eye on the countdown on his screen, his hands a blur over the other controls as he prepared the other helm functions for the
Manhattan
’s exit from Jump. “Twenty seconds.”

“Everyone, full defensive measures,” Driscoll said, loud and clear. “This region of space is going to screw with your equipment. Expect anomalies. Expect readings you don’t anticipate. Catalogue any irregularities, but do not panic. Just do your best.”

“Sir?” Lieutenant Brooke asked from the weapons station. “Without the aid of sensors, we’ll have to rely on manually operating the
Manhattan
’s weapons systems…”

“Exactly, Lieutenant. Look sharp,” Driscoll said.

Lieutenant Brooke’s face dropped and he turned back to face his station.

“Exiting the Jump in eight, seven, six…” Hardy muttered, still tweaking controls.

Driscoll reached up to a handhold and waited for the sensation of shift to come as the massive ship dropped from Jump speed.

“… three, two, one…”

Space returned to normal before them, or seemingly so. As much as it looked perfectly safe out there, it truly was anything but. The Chimera Cluster was one of the most volatile areas of known space. Anything could happen now.

Even the
Manhattan
―a veritable colossus―might not be able to withstand it.

We’ll see how tight Macintosh put in those rivets.
We’ll see…

“Captain, shall I give Commander Grey your permission to proceed with fighter deployment?” Lieutenant-Commander S’lestra asked.

Driscoll nodded. “Yes. Go ahead. All bays are cleared for immediate launch. Set them up in a standard near-sector patrol ring.”

“Everyone, red alert. All hands, man your stations,” Commander Teague ordered, hot on the heels of Driscoll giving the go-ahead for fighters to leave the
Manhattan
.

Around him, the bridge erupted into a flurry of activity, but the Captain had only one thought.

Operation Chimera had begun.

They were here. Their starfighters were due to disembark, the rookie pilots eager to stretch their legs. He remembered his own debut tour of duty, how exhilarating it had been to pilot his very own starfighter. To feel the awesome energy at his fingertips. To fire its weapons at a Draxx and feel the rush of satisfaction as it exploded in a flash of light.

And to bring it home, in one piece, until the time came to fly the next mission. Landing in the hangar, his CO giving him a slap on the back and telling him he’d done good.

The Captain grinned at the thought, overcome with nostalgia at those simpler, carefree days. He’d not been one with the darkness back then. No, he’d not fallen under the shadow’s wing then.
Not yet
. All of that was to come. Back then he’d been just like Commander Grey’s young pilots, readying their ships to leave for the first time. He’d been new, fresh―innocent.

Good luck, kids
.
You’ll need it.

last doors secured the launch portals during the Jump. Wisps of fog rolled across the flight deck, pooling for a few seconds wherever it encountered a loop in one of the arm-thick hoses crisscrossing the floor. Command Ops sent the five-minute warning; ground crews scrambled about with last-minute preparations, and all pilots had buttoned down their canopies and secured their helmets.

Michael tapped his gloved fingers on the stick, tracing his eyes over the X-shaped pattern at the center of the immense hatch. The door was three feet thick, almost enough to absorb a direct hit from a small torpedo. He did not understand the point, the hull to either side was thinner; who shoots at the doors on purpose? To his left, Zavex sat amid total calm. So still, the reflections of his displays were legible via their reflection upon his helmet. Beyond him, Emma huddled forward as if blowing hot air into her hands to warm them. He poked the touchscreen with his squad mates’ status reads to open a private comm channel.

“Sylph, everything okay?”

Her head bobbed up. “Got a little case of the collywobbles just sitting here, Lieutenant. I’ll be okay once we’re underway.”

“Don’t let him get to you. If he starts to psych you out, let me know.”

“I don’t need a big brother.” Her helmet turned toward him. “If he steps out of line, then do what you have to do. I’ll not let him take the Mickey out of me.”

“Whatever that means.” Michael laughed, ending the comm.

“Betty, you see anything strange in the systems?”

“No, Lieutenant.” A pleasant female voice flooded the cabin.

He squinted at Aaron, sitting back in his Glaive like the king rooster of the henhouse. Flashing orange lights distracted him from any lingering suspicions. The ground crew all ran for something to grab. The flight deck filled with the voice of Frank, the
Manhattan
’s AI, counting down from ten. A few of the ground crew that failed to find proper refuge went into the air like flags during the hard deceleration out of jump space. As the forces squished him to the right side of the cockpit, Michael pondered the oddity of all fighters having female AI’s, while the large ships seemed to all have males.