CassaSeries

Chapter Fourteen-1

Chapter Fourteen

“Tomorrow we join forces with the Lathella,” the commander announced, his eyes scanning the men, “in what will be one of our most important missions.”

Beside him, Bassa straightened his shoulders. Every squadron gathered in the hangar for this briefing, clustered around the portable screen they were packed in pretty tight. Surrounded by so many bodies, claustrophobia choked Byron’s thoughts. His shoulder pressed against Bassa in order to avoid direct contact with the man on his left, and he could feel the warm breath of the tall pilot behind him on his neck. The announcement piqued his interest though, and Byron forgot his discomforts.

“A large Vindicarn vessel has been located in sector 98-163. It is armed with a disrupter a thousand times more powerful than those in the fighters. A recent encounter revealed this disrupter could potentially neutralize a deep space vessel with one blast.”

Several gasps of astonishment rose from the men and the mood in the room grew heavy. Byron’s chest tightened at the thought of a ship possessing that ability. The fleet was no match against a weapon of that magnitude.

The commander waited for the men to grow still again. “We believe this ship also refuels the disrupters. So it is imperative that we discover a way to destroy it.”

The display behind Kernen came alive. The screen exhibited the location of the enemy vessel in orbit over a planet. The commander glanced at the display and continued.

“An hour ago, the vessel parked beside this small planet,” he said. “The surface is mostly rock, but it does boast water and a breathable atmosphere. We believe the ship has stopped to gather resources. This is our window of opportunity.”

A closer image of the large craft appeared on screen, its shape as unique as its size. Whereas the fighter ships encountered thus far were narrow and streamlined, this vessel boasted a bulky midsection and many protruding components. Impossible to see details from their position, Byron wondered how many weapons adorned its surface. If the ship’s disrupter was that powerful, it wouldn’t matter.

“Several potential entry points have been discovered,” Kernen informed the men, those locations now highlighted on the image. “If we can acquire an interior layout of the Vindicarn ship, we may find a way to reach the vessel’s core or main disrupter.

“This is the Lathella’s assignment,” he said, raising his voice in emphasis. “We are to provide cover and create a distraction.”

Byron glanced at Bassa, and his navigator returned his determined look. After weeks of endless, random battles, they now held a purpose beyond just holding back the enemy.

The commander outlined the plan of attack, which involved every squadron on board the Sorenthia. Joined by half of the squadrons from the Lathella, they were to keep the enemy fighters occupied while teams focused on five key entry points. Once the shields weakened, single-seater Darten fighters would enter the Vindicarn ship and penetrate its structure. Their squadrons would cease the attack when all five Dartens either returned or their destruction was confirmed.

Potential suicide mission! Byron thought, in awe of the men brave enough to take on such an assignment.

Every time we get into our fighter it could be our last, Bassa reminded him.

Kernen concluded by ordering the squadrons to the simulators in preparation for the mission. The squad leaders announced the afternoon simulator schedules and Byron was pleased they would practice first. He wanted to tackle the simulation while adrenaline still coursed through his body.

By the time he emerged from the simulator, exhaustion gripped Byron. The sheer number of Vindicarn fighters they’d face tomorrow morning exceeded any previous encounter. Byron did not voice his thoughts, but their mission of diversion might degenerate into a frantic fight for survival.

The evening meal was light, its hours extended for those still in the simulators. The mood expressed oppressive excitement, and anxious discussions flowed from one table to the next. The men were eager and ready, but a measure of uncertainty remained. The simulator drills had revealed a grim reality. Coupled with the threat of the Vindicarn’s main disrupter, their chances for success were slim.

This battle has you worried, Bassa thought as they departed the dining hall.

Worried? No, Byron thought, unwilling to show any measure of hesitation in front of his navigator.

They entered the telepod and he turned to face the entrance, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He hoped his stoic expression concealed his anxiety, but Bassa wasn’t fooled.

A little fear is good, Byron. Keeps you sharp.

Gritting his teeth, Byron felt annoyed, but not with his navigator. As the door slid open, Bassa nudged his elbow.

“Come on. I have something that will take care of that nervousness.”

Curious, Byron followed Bassa to his quarters. The senior officer gestured toward the table and Byron sank into a chair. Bassa opened a small cupboard and produced a bottle.

“You still have spirits from Spaceport 89?” Byron said. His two purchases were long since gone.

Bassa smiled and set the flask on the table. “No, not that cheap stuff. I brought this with me when I boarded the Sorenthia,” he announced with pride, “and there’s just enough left for two.”

While Bassa retrieved glasses, Byron examined the bottle. His eyebrows rose as he noted the label.

“Are you sure?” he said, stunned Bassa would share such rare vintage with him.

“Wouldn’t offer otherwise.”

Bassa set two glasses on the table and grabbed the bottle. He filled each one before taking his seat. Setting aside the flask, he grasped the closest glass and Byron followed suit. He expected Bassa to toast to victory, but his navigator just tapped his glass. In the confines of his quarters, the clinking sound echoed. Byron lifted the glass to his lips, his eyes on Bassa. His friend downed half the contents in one shot. Byron attempted to do the same, but the strength of the drink caught him unaware. He struggled to swallow without losing any of the valuable liquid.

Bassa chuckled. “It’s probably stronger than you’re used to,” he said as Byron gasped for air.

A little, Byron thought.

“You’ll sleep good, I promise.”

Bassa took a smaller sip and set his glass on the table. He leaned back in his chair, arching his back in the process.

“Tomorrow’s mission will be difficult, but if just one of those Dartens succeeds, it will be worth it,” he said.

“They won’t all make it,” said Byron, his voice solemn.

“They understand the risk involved.”

“Damn brave,” he said, lifting his glass. He eyed the clear liquid, contemplating his next words. “Not sure I could be that fearless,” he admitted, downing the contents of his glass.

He caught his breath as the liquid slid down his throat, its warmth causing him to wince. Byron coughed once, unaccustomed to a drink so robust. However, he could feel his muscles relax as the liquid coursed through his system. He would indeed sleep well tonight.

“Being brave doesn’t mean being fearless,” Bassa said. “It means doing the right thing despite one’s fear.”

Byron cleared his throat and gazed at his friend. Had Bassa experienced fear when he discarded his comfortable position to follow a young pilot into space?

“Was becoming my navigator the right thing to do?” he asked before he lost the nerve.

“Think that was a brave thing to do?” Bassa said before finishing his drink.

“Absolutely!”

He pushed his glass closer as Bassa lifted the bottle and his friend poured the remaining contents into their glasses. Bassa swirled the liquid in his glass before raising his gaze to meet Byron’s eyes.

“It’s a decision I’ve never regretted,” he stated.

Byron smiled at the sincerity of his words and the accompanying feelings of genuine friendship. He protested their pairing at first, but now he felt grateful for Bassa’s presence. The man had taught him many things, most of which extended well beyond their time in the cockpit.

“I have no regrets, either,” he said.

Bassa nodded and lifted his glass before taking a sip. Byron downed half his glass, shuddering once more at the effects. The warmth of the liquid filled his body, relaxing his mind as well as muscles. An idea he’d mulled over for the past few weeks resurfaced in his thoughts. While his senses still experienced the effects of inebriation, Byron decided to voice his plans.

“I was thinking,” he began, his gaze on his drink, “once our assignment on the Sorenthia is done, we’d try something new.”

“Oh?” Bassa said, c*****g his head. “What did you have in mind?”

Byron shifted in his chair. “Thought maybe we’d transfer to Exploration.”

Raising his gaze, Byron caught the look of total surprise on Bassa’s face at the same moment his navigator’s incredulous thoughts reached his mind. Bassa pressed his shoulders against the back of the chair and scrutinized his pilot’s expression.

“Byron, I appreciate that, but I know how much piloting a Cosbolt means to you,” he said.

“Yes, but my goal was just to get off Cassa,” Byron countered, unwilling to be persuaded otherwise.

“You trained hard for this.”

Grasping his glass, Byron leaned his elbows on the table. “Bassa, I know you won’t be able to do this forever. And don’t tell me you’re willing to try,” he said before his friend could protest. “This is damned tough work!”

Bassa regarded him with patience and Byron sensed his doubt.

“Look, you told me space exploration was once a dream of yours,” he continued, hoping to convince his friend of his sincerity. “You followed me out here so I’d achieve my goals. Well, I think it’s time you pursued your own. And I want to join you. I mean, it’ll still be exciting, just not in a kill or be killed sort of way.

“Besides, when you retire, I’ll have to find something else anyway.”

His friend’s eyebrows came together. “Why?”

Taking a deep breath, Byron sat up straighter. “Because, it took me too long to break in my current navigator and I’m not doing that again. Ever.”

Bassa’s expression softened and he smiled. His navigator reached out, testing for the truth. His mind open, Byron allowed his thoughts and feelings to speak for themselves. His partner had sacrificed so much. Byron wanted to repay his only real friend.

Bassa’s smile deepened. “If that’s really what you want to do,” he said in a low voice.

“Absolutely,” Byron answered without hesitation.

Leaning forward, Bassa grasped his arm and Byron returned his friend’s grip. Feeling confident, he smiled and nodded.

“All right, then,” Bassa said.

They finished their drinks and Bassa told him to get a good night’s sleep. Byron returned to his quarters, his anxiety regarding tomorrow’s mission no longer an issue. Those weren’t the only concerns laid to rest, either. He could at last give something of value to Bassa.

Dodging enemy fire from a ship on his right, Byron shot at the vessel he tailed. Not a direct hit, but the fighter spiraled out of control as it headed for the planet’s surface.

Let it go, thought Bassa, indicating the approach of another ship.

Throttling forward, Byron dove to shake their pursuer. Their new course brought the Cosbolt in range of two new Vindicarn ships and they fired.

Jump!

Bassa’s coordinates did not take them far. The ship reappeared behind their pursuer and Byron took advantage of their position. Eliminating the target, he was informed of another vessel as well as incoming fire. Veering away from the laser blast, Byron pushed the throttle forward to catch the other craft.

Gotcha! he thought, firing before a disrupter blast forced them to change course again.

The large Vindicarn ship’s proximity to the planet complicated matters. The Cosbolts responded differently in the planet’s atmosphere. Byron continued to adjust his approach, frustrated by the conditions. A small mercy the enemy struggled as well.

Jump!

A laser blast struck their wing as Byron teleported to the new coordinates. Bassa took them much lower this time, and the ship emerged without an immediate threat of danger.

Can we still fly? Byron thought, edging the nose of the ship skyward.

Yes, minor damage.

Taking a deep breath to clear his head, Byron accelerated, a Vindicarn craft in his sights. Bassa gave him the clear and he fired multiple shots. The enemy ship burst into a ball of flame, and Byron maneuvered out of its way as the fighter fell toward the planet.

Four of the teams have entered the ship, Bassa announced.

Byron shook his head in exasperation. All five teams should’ve reached their targets by now. This battle was taking far too long.

Bassa flashed the image of an incoming fighter and Byron moved to avoid its fire. He darted under another Vindicarn ship, hoping the vessel would provide momentary cover. Byron was forced to make a hard right when that craft fired a disrupter blast.