Colonists - Traitor

“Let’s raise up a toast to the fine men & women who serve not only our country, but ALL of humanity! Please my boy,” the boisterous man at the bar yelled, “Have a round on us! And THANK YOU!” The not-quite-crowded bar all cheered in unison, raising whatever alcoholic preference they had in their hands upwards.

Cole was home, on special leave, and had managed to come out with his father to a local pub to watch the annual “Rivalry Weekend” between his home state’s two major colleges. It was the tailend of American football season and the home team was barely managing to scrape by with a 3-point lead. All the rivals needed was a field goal to tie it up on this final drive to have an overtime showdown.

Cole stood, shakily, upon his bar stool, “No my friends! It is good people like YOU who make this fine country - and humanity - worth fighting for! Keep doing your part, keep your hopes alive, chase your dreams, and keep your faith. If you can do that, then we can keep fighting to save our species!” Another ruckus of a cheer went up. Cole pounded back his shot.

Cole’s father, Cade, patted his son on the shoulder, “You’re quite the speech giver!”

Cole smirked, “Well you do a few tours as the Hero of Cancer and you can come up with them almost on the spot.”

The pair laughed lightly for a moment. 3rd down was up on the screen and the rivals quarterback handed the ball off to his tailback. He was stopped at the line of scrimmage, making it 4th down with 9 yards. The rivals burned their last time out with 12 seconds left in the game.

Cole felt a presence approach him from behind; his sixth sense, a strong survival instinct, caused him to turn around on his stool to see a man in front of him. The man was older, but not quite elderly - perhaps early 60s or so. He probably was in mostly good health with his body starting to break down on him. He looked familiar but Cole couldn’t place his face.

“Excuse me son, I wanted to come shake your hand,” the man said with his right hand extended.

Cole took it, “No need sir but that’s right kind of you.”

“My son…” the main trailed off for a moment, and tears started forming in his eyes. But he recovered quickly enough, “My son was at the Battle for Cancer as well. He died over Aganon.”

A lot of people died over Aganon. Cole barely making it himself thanks to a quick wit, some luck, and divine intervention from the Almighty. Cole nodded, “I’m sorry sir. What’s your son’s name?”

“Jeremiah Tennyson,” the man said with some effort.

This explained why the man looked so familiar. Ah fuck - why did it have did it have to be Tennyson’s old man? Our sins come back to haunt us, I guess. “TJ Tennyson?” Cole asked trying not to look put off.

“Yea that’s him! You knew him?”

“Yes sir, I did. He was in my unit. I, uh… I was there. I did all I could for him. I don’t know what your official report said but he didn’t suffer sir. I can promise you that,” Cole said.

“Thank you, son. I appreciate you telling me. That puts my mind at ease, somewhat.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” Cole asked.

“No that’s alright I was getting ready to head home. Maybe-” Mr. Tennyson paused, “Maybe I could talk with you about him sometime? Not right now but if you’re going to be home for a while and you aren’t busy one afternoon?”

“I’ll be redeployed soon, but if I can Mr. Tennyson I’ll look you up,” Cole replied.

Jeremiah Tennyson nodded his thanks and walked off back to his table. The rival's time out had expired and they tried for one more play, skipping the first down and going for the end-zone. The ball was barely deflected by a home team safety with calls for pass interference from the rivals' fan base. The refs never threw a flag and with 7 seconds to go the ball would turn over on downs. The home team would take the knee to win the game, just barely, at 24-21.

Cole stood up, threw some bills on the bar top and grabbed his flight jacket, “Come on dad. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.”

Cade looked a little confused but stood as well, quick as he could. Cade had become a heavyset man in his older years so he didn’t move quite as fast as his very limber military son. The pair got in his father’s large SUV and left the small town pub just outside of Aynor. It was back to the farm, about a 15 minute drive away.

They weren’t on the road a whole minute before Cade asked his son, “What’s on your mind?”

Cole sighed heavily, “Tennyson… why did it have to be Tennyson?”

“You were in the same unit together, it’s understandable that you’d be upset over losing a comrade.”

“No, Daddy, that’s not it. I know TJ Tennyson didn’t suffer. He, along with his cockpit, were vaporized in less than one-tenth of a second,” Cole paused for a moment. Cole wasn’t sure he wanted to say the next words but he supposed it was about time he confessed. “TJ didn’t suffer because I fired the shot that killed him. I aimed my Koryu right at him & pulled the trigger. The official report says he died in battle above Aganon, but what it doesn’t say is that he died a coward’s death because he was a cowardly bastard.”

Several moments of silence hung in the air before Cade spoke, “Son… why?”

“Because he ran. When the Kamikaze were about to attack the civilian transport he was supposed to protect he panicked & hauled ass. I watched those people die, and Tennyson’s wingman - who wasn’t a cowardly piece of shit - die. 153 civilians and one damn good pilot died because he ran off scared. So I ghosted his ass. And no one is left alive to say anything different.”

“What about your computer systems, I thought they recorded that kind of information?”

“They do but we never had a proper wind-down time during the fight. We would go in for a few, get resupplied, get a little sleep and a little food. Then we were back on deck launching again to cover more evacuees. My wingman, Donato Santos, died 40 hours later,” Cole remembered the incident. “Dad the Bible talks about giving your life for another as being the greatest show of love. What if you give your life for 300 others? Cause that’s what Santos did: he went head-long into an enemy formation knowing he wasn’t coming back. Santos should be the Hero of Cancer because he gave everything he had.”

Cade didn’t know what to say. The rest of the car ride was in silence back to the house. Once there, at the farm that had been handed down over the generations until it rested with Cade, the two sat in the living room. Cole was on the couch and Cade in his recliner. The old southern man poured himself a glass of Jack Daniels and then a second for his son. “You want to talk about it? I know you probably debriefed but did you get any of this off your chest properly, to anyone?”

“Not really,” Cole said, taking a sip of the hard Tennessee whiskey, “But yeah, Daddy, I think I do want to talk about it.”

CANCER SYSTEM

AUGUST 4TH, 2253 AD

ECS SUGAR HILL EN ROUTE TO CANCER II

ETA 26 HOURS

The transit in-system was perfectly smooth. So smooth in fact that Cole Shaw hadn’t even noticed the transition. The new Hyper 5 engines were impressive, indeed. His unit was the 388th Combat Wing known as the Blood Skulls. They had 11 veteran pilots from all over and 1 newbie from Cole’s home state back on Earth, after one of their girls bought the farm a few months back.

Cole was only aware of the transition because the flight deck lights overhead shifted from purple to yellow, meaning the ship had transitioned from hyperspace to real space. He kept working his pre-flight checklist again. He wouldn’t be space borne for another 20 hours at least but he was always one who preferred to be prepared. Santos, his wingman, was with his own bird the next berth over. The Brazilian man barely had an accent anymore after being around so many Americans for so long. The pair had been wingmen for just over two years; Cole had helped tutor him a little along the way. Before Cole was a pilot he’d spent a year as an English teacher. Then the call for war went out and everything changed once it’d been discovered that he was qualified.

Those days seemed like a lifetime ago but in reality couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years. In a way it was a lifetime ago because there wasn’t a war on. And the alien beings known as the Kamikaze were distant rumors. Back then, on Earth, it was like they didn't really exist.

“Hey Cole,” his wingman called.

“Yeah.”

“Did your system get a patch for a new weapons system?”

Cole checked, “Yeah. Something called the ‘Dust Buster.’ Any ideas?”

Diogo shook his head, “No idea at all.”

Aside from that one modification everything else in his system seemed to be in order. With that he bounded up out of his cockpit and closed the metal canopy. It was pointless to be transparent like clear aluminum or a dense glass. In space objects and events moved so rapidly using your eyeballs was pointless: by the time you could see a threat you were already colliding with it.

Cole bounced down the ladder onto the catwalk. Diogo waited at the lift to take them down to the personnel deck. From here they could return to their squadron barracks for a quick meal and one last round of good sleep before the action kicked off. Or kicked off for them, anyway. Last he’d heard the PAC’s (Pacific-Asian Cooperative) 401st fleet had been fiercely engaged trying to buy time to evacuate Cancer II – known locally as Aganon. The Kamikaze had already made planetfall and brought their spores with them to terraform – or ‘terror form’ as some called it – the human world. Within weeks all life on the planet would be wiped out. The only thing to do was to fall back, regroup, and counterattack at some later date.

The PAC 401st, however, had been sorely outgunned and outnumbered. The PAC, having such a large population, often waged a war of attrition against the Kamikaze. Sometimes the numbers were in their favor and sometimes not. This time: not so much. So the AWDI (Allied Western Defense Initiative), lovingly called “Audi,” were coming in to even out the firepower equation. There wouldn’t be a tactical victory here, Aganon was already doomed. A strategic victory was hoped for. If the civilians could get off-world and relocated they could be put to use making new weapons, new ships and even make new recruits. So the 388th Combat Wing and her mother fleet, the 256th Assault Fleet, were coming in to be the heroes.

Just as Cole and Diogo had got to their racks to lay down for some shut eye his personal comm let out an alert for attention. Cole answered it, “Shaw, go ahead.”

“Shaw, Ingram. Is Santos with you?”

“Yes sir,” Cole replied.

“Good. Both of you come to BR3,” the line ended with that.

“Well Santos my friend it looks like there’s no rest for the wicked. Lead wants us in briefing room three,” Cole said grabbing his arm-link and reattaching it.

“Just wonderful,” Santos said sliding out of his bunk.

Briefing Room 3 was as sterile as any other part of the ship, outside the galleys and heads. The pair walked in to find only Commander Ingram, 1st Lieutenant Akio Fukai and the captain of the carrier ship Sugar Hill - Captain Walden - in the room. It was a big room for only five people.

“Take your seats gentlemen we’ve got a special job for you three,” Ingram said pointing to the seats closest to Fukai. Once seated their flight leader started, “As you know we’re moving into the Cancer system to evacuate the civilians on Cancer II. We have been told that the PAC high command has ordered their 401st fleet to fight to the last man to keep the Kamikaze at bay in order to buy more time for the civilians. We are not here to bail out the 401st, we’re here to save civvies. However, you three have a different priority.”

The man activated the room’s holographic systems, “Your three vessels will be outfitted with atmospheric maneuvering gear and transferred over to the Grimacing Smile. That fleet element will be one of the first units into the fray. Their job is to create as much atmospheric confusion as is humanly possible to cover your mission.

“Which brings me to this,” Ingram said and activated the first image of the planet of Cancer II. “Here you’ll notice what has been described by our intel teams as ‘an oddity’ - it’s some kind of new weapon the Kamikaze have for consuming planets. We don’t know how it works but we do know that if we kill it before it expands too much, we can save the planet. The traditional Kamikaze viral spores only kill living organisms on a planet’s surface. This new weapon actually consumes planets over time. A weapon like this can make plans to repopulate planets after the war is over – or after the battle lines shift – impossible as those planets literally won’t exist anymore. In addition the disappearance of an entire planet can cause hell with the way our hyperspace lanes are setup. Gravity and time are the only things that are constant considerations across hyperspace and real space. So loss of gravity in real space means the alteration of hyperspace lanes. I don’t have to explain to you what that means for humanity’s war effort. This takes priority: the destruction of this planet killer.”

The three were in mild stunned silenced. Cole nodded his head and the other pair did likewise. Ingram continued, “Good. Now your mission: you’ll be dropping in a semi-free fall into Cancer II’s atmosphere from high orbit. We don’t want to risk a low orbit drop because we don’t want to tip them off.” Cole understood this as humanity rarely, if ever, dropped forces back onto a world that had been spored. “So you’ll be launched via stealth insertion modules off a series of modified railguns,” Ingram said and altered the images to show their predicted flight paths and entry. “Once in-atmosphere you’ll be a no-fire on engines until you hit 100 meters above the deck. This will ensure that you won’t show up on the Kamikaze sensors, we think. What’s going to happen next is the tricky bit.”

Cole leaned back in his chair, “Being fired from a moving cruiser doesn’t count?”

“Not compared to what’s next,” Ingram said. He’d learned to ignore Cole’s mild complaints. He knew it was how the younger man dealt with pre-combat stress. “The three of you will come in across this natural lake east of the weapon’s drop zone. Fukai, Santos - as the lake terminates and starts to become mountainous you two will ascend enough to clear the mountain range. We suspect the Kamikaze facility here-" Ingram highlighted a geographical region on the hologram "-is one of their planet-side weapons batteries. Your primary role is to create enough of a ruckus to keep the Kamikaze’s attention on you. Shaw, you’ll break formation and follow this heading and path until you reach the weapon’s deployment zone here.” Ingram indicated a new location. “This is were our new weapon, the Dust Buster, comes in. It’s described to me as a ‘quantum displacement device’ - meaning it basically take whatever is caught in its area of influence and moves it to an alternate reality. I don’t know where nor how, only that it has a two cubic kilometer effective radius. Hence why we need you three in there fast.”

Cole spoke up, “Sir Santos and I both noticed that our birds have been updated with the new weapon’s firing protocols. I assume Fukai’s is the same?”

“That’s correct. If the planet-killers area is larger than we anticipate, or in case Shaw is mission inoperable,” that meant ‘dead,’ “Then Santos and Fukai will break contact with their distraction and engage the planet killer with their Dust Busters. Once the job is done cut and run back to space. If you’re able, join up with the forward fleet elements. You’ll receive revised orders then.”

“Understood,” Cole said. His two wingmen echoed the sentiment.

“You’ve got three hours for personal time, then you’re on board the Grimacing Smile within another two. Once on board you are on scramble alert, your ships will be moved to your berths and you’ll wait there for insertion. The captain of Grimacing Smile has been updated on everything she needs to know. Any questions?”

Cole tried to think of something witty but came up blank, “No sir.”

“Dismissed.”

AUGUST 5TH, 2253 AD

HIGH ORBIT, CANCER II

ECS GRIMACING SMILE LAUNCH BAY

Saying it was a “launch bay” was a wildly inaccurate statement. These literally were modified large-bore railguns so their fighters could be fired into Aganon’s atmosphere. Cole sat in total darkness except for the ebook scrolling across his helmet’s display. It was against regs but he’d been in one too many cockpits, waiting aimlessly for hours and hours on end. Through some trial and error he’d figured out that vids were too distracting to any audio alerts he had, listening to the open-frequency civilian channels or the COMNET (Combat Network) was too unnerving and doing nothing at all put him to sleep. He’d fallen asleep once only to be woken up by his fighter being launched on a no-alert scramble. He’d never fallen asleep again. Besides there were so many books he wanted to read he figured there no point in dying without working his way closer to that goal, right?

A status light in his cockpit blinked and a small message appeared: FLEET ELEMENTS ENGAGING ENEMY.

Cole closed the ebook on his helmet display and called up the tactical HUD. He turned on the external view of his cockpit. Normally he’d leave it off except for the tactical displays but in atmosphere, when movement was only a fraction of that in space, he felt better being able to see the ground beneath him and the sky above.

Currently he could see nothing except the four magnetic rails his fighter was attached to and at a distance the purplish orb that was Cancer II. Her atmosphere was slightly different from Earth but was safe enough for humans to breathe, with a small genetic alteration. He knew that either in a few moments, or another hour, that planet would be getting a whole lot bigger in a hurry.

It turned out to be closer to an hour. Cole could see the blindingly bright scattered beams of the Kamikaze weapons flash far in the distance a few times. The light-speed particle weapons were ruthless but thankfully shorter-ranged than humanity’s own Ryu directed energy weapons. The term “ryu” was borrowed from the Japanese word for ‘dragon’ as the weapon’s heat and destructive power were reminiscent of a dragon’s might. The “Koryu” was ‘little dragon’ - as these smaller versions were put on fighter craft and smaller strike vessels.

Within two minutes of achieving high orbit the orange lights around Cole's cockpit illuminated letting him know that his inertial dampeners were activating. His fighter had probably received the launch codes from the C&C of Grimacing Smile. He relaxed his body as the sudden G-Forces would be pressing him back into his chair momentarily. Cole hated the feeling, it always made him need to piss due to the crushing force on his bladder, despite the additional G-Force nullifiers in his flight suit.

Then his fighter shot forward with alarming speed. He was used to being launched from the deck of a carrier or even a fighter-cruiser, not from the barrel of a cannon. This experience was much quicker and much more jarring. Within a couple moments Cole's fighter was able to catch up to the demanding forces and adjust, so he could operate. He checked on Santos and Fukai - both of whom where in formation to his port side, fore of him. It was a bit unnerving as in space combat you almost never saw your wingmen - or any other vessel - this closely. Yet here the trio was on a completely ballistic trajectory and in a staggered line. All external powered flight had been shut down and would remain so until they broke through the atmosphere's upper layers. Even then he'd only be using enough power to slow his fighter's rapid and chaotic descent.

Seven minutes passed from launch to entry of Aganon. The first turbulence of atmospheric entry was of a minor reassurance to Cole. Typically, when entering atmosphere, the Kamikaze weapons were more disturbed by the gases of atmosphere so the coherent light that made up their energy weapons were diffused, like a traditional glow lamp would be.

Cole watched as his DME, which was all estimations based on radar and LIDAR scans since no functional DME stations were on Aganon anymore, counted down the distance. At 1000 meters Cole heard the call from Fukai to begin hard flight maneuvers. This meant they were using minimal power afforded by their add-on atmospheric flight gear to perform powered glides and bring their speed down below Mach 1. At 100 meters from the deck (the assumed safe umbrella for the Kamikaze sensors) the trio powered on their engines properly and came in two seconds ahead of the mission clock's estimated time to the lake. Again the group dove and came in barely four meters above the placid lake surface. Behind them their engine wash caused the water to splash upward wildly in the air leaving large “rooster tail” water jets behind them.

"Saint are you still with me?" Fukai called to Santos, using his call sign.

"Right on you, Masamune."

"Gamecock?" Fukai called.

"In formation, prepping to break off in twenty seconds," Cole replied. His callsign was because of his home state's college mascot and the fact his bunk was covered with the university's memorabilia.

Then the Japanese native said something in his own language, "Seiten no heki-reki!" The literal translation was "thunderbolt from a clear sky" but Cole understood the man's meaning to mean "be a complete surprise."

"Amen," Santos said.

"Amen," Cole echoed.

Cole increased his altitude and banked starboard. Instead of attempting to fly through the too-narrow and unknown terrain of the canyons leading to his target Cole stayed close to the ground that formed the canyon's opening. Within another minute Cole could see his target. He banked his fighter so he could look down at the target. It was a circular surface of deep green and a maroon color that swirled about itself like an oil spill.

Having no warnings of anti-air defenses Cole pulled up for more altitude, targeted his payload for center-mass of the target. It was no larger than nine or ten city blocks and was perfectly smooth across its top. Cole hit his weapons release and felt the aircraft shudder as his weapon released. Cole poured on the speed to clear the blast zone and altered his course to his fellows.

He looked behind him just prior to the weapon's detonation which was nothing more spectacular than a bright white sphere. It disappeared within a few seconds and Cole could see in the distance it appeared as if someone had taken a massive ice cream scoop and just taken away part of the planet of Aganon. No crater ridge, no cracked or scorched ground. Just a simple glass-smooth semi-spherical opening on the ground.

Cole opened his comm, "Gamecock to Masamune - we are clear and free. Ready to make orbit."

"Roger, Gamecock! Orbit!" the man said loudly into his headset. Cole thought that perhaps the distraction attack his wingmen had started had, in fact, met them with more resistance than anticipated.

Cole maxed his engines making a hard break for orbit. He looked at his radar screens to see that both Fukai and Santos were making the break for orbit too. He let out a small sigh of relief. Once in high altitude Cole switched his atmospheric engines off and slowed down to reform with his wingmen, both of whom came up perfectly behind him.

Fukai's comm came through to Cole's ears, "Skulls we are clear to return to orbit and rearm under Grimacing Smile's direction. No ETA on rejoining the squadron yet. Control confirms you are back in control of our flight, Gamecock."

"Roger that. Ok Skulls put yourselves on this course," Cole said and punched out coordinates and a flight path back to their fleet formation. "We rearm and refuel first, then we're back on it."

The confirmation calls came in from his two wingmen and the trio sped back to orbit.

December 5th, 2254 AD

AWDI province South Carolina, Earth

Shaw Farmland

Cole put the whiskey glass on the coffee table in front of him. He leaned back on the sofa and explained the prologue to his father, "So the purpose of that was to tell you that we had bought the planet's civilian population more time to evacuate. We ran almost continuously for the next 20 hours with a couple of short docks to rearm our birds. Didn't even get out of the cockpit to piss properly just had to dump the tanks on our suits. The PAC boys and girls kept the Kamikaze tied up real good, but every hour that passed more and more of the Kamikaze's ships got through their lines. At first it was smaller vessels - smaller fighter groups and a couple cruisers - nothing we couldn't handle with our forward elements. Just so happens the Smile was a part of those elements.

"By the end of those 20 hours the Smile was grouped up with the Sugar Hill and running close support for the civilians. The rest of Skull squadron hadn't seen action yet but the three of us got to rack our birds. That is, we actually docked our fighters back on the Sugar Hill and dismounted. We bunked for about 6 hours but the atmo-gear was never taken off. Other combat wings were launching and landing too fast.

"At hour 30 or so the Kamikaze big ships, those monster dreadnaughts of theirs, had chewed up the PAC fleet so bad someone among them agreed to fall back and reform with us. So we moved as a mixed combat fleet and it was nasty, beginning to end.

"When we finally got out into the fight I had the Tennyson kid as my wingman. He was fine so long as we were sitting back sniping at range against the Kamikaze strikers that were trying to harass the civvies. But it was as soon as the Kamikaze came in close..."

AUGUST 5TH, 2253 AD

HIGH ORBIT, CANCER II

Skull Squadron escort duty

Cole looked “up” from his point of view, through the simulated glass of the canopy at Aganon. Their ploy had worked and the civilians were mostly clear. Now it was getting dicey. Tennyson had barked into his comm, “So we good to return? I don’t see us doing so well against those cruisers.

Cole rolled his eyes, “We don’t have to do well against them we just have to distract them, keep their focus on you and don’t get shot.”

“Aye. Just… do you think-”

Cole cut him off, “Dammit Tennyson! Cut that talk or else I’m going to report you. Now keep your eyes on your VIPs.” He meant the civilians on the last pair of passenger liners coming up with this group.

“Aye, leader,” came Tennyson’s reply, sounding dejected.

Cole watched his readout. The Smile was holding back in a formation of AWDI and PAC fleet elements about 4 light minutes distant. The Kamikaze cruisers were trying to make a large enough hole in the front line of defenders to let their world-killer vessels get in close enough to attack. So far it was a stalemate. The human fleet would hammer the Kamikaze back enough to stop their forward progress but in turn were so badly hammered they couldn’t push forward without taking excessive losses. Besides, from a strategic point of view, Caner II was already a total loss. The only thing that mattered at this point was minimizing civilian casualties.

“Heads up,” Santos called. “I read six of the Kami strikers coming in on us.”

“Copy. Skull flight, pick your targets and hit them at range. Don’t let them get close,” Cole called out. He throttled his bird around to face the new targets. Santos was way out in front of him, about seven light seconds. His canopy didn’t bother painting the Koryu discharges as he opened up on the alien fighters.

Within a minute Cole was in range and got a solid lock on the second front-most fighter. He pulled the trigger on his primary weapons control. The Koryu silently stabbed a pink finger out at the speed of light and melted right through the center of his target. It was followed a second later by Santos’ shot which cleanly dealt death to the fore alien craft.

About this time the Kamikaze, having moved to within their weapons' range, were able to reply. Two of their white beams wacked against his port forward shield. Two others went wide. He bounced his fighter to his up and to his right – space being relative. Cole fired off another Koryu shot without a good lock, just to keep the Kamikaze on their toes.

A marker – a yellow diamond – appeared around one of the Kamikaze ships. It was moving slower than its comrades and not facing Cole’s direction. Instead it was pointed towards Santos’ fighter and pumping white energy at the human craft.

“A little help, Gamecock,” Santos called.

“Got him. Tennyson get the attention of these other guys,” Cole called. He lined up his shot. It took a number of seconds since he himself was juking his fighter around, trying to avoid taking a permanent spacewalk. Then the enemy weapons fire stopped and Cole took the moment to kill Santos’ harasser.

“Good work Tenn-” Cole started to say but was cut off by a burst of flash emergency traffic.

“Civilian transport Sierra Eight-Two! We have two hostiles coming in on us quick, their first shots missed! Where is our escort?!” the frantic voice of the civilian pilot called.

Cole’s head was already arching around to his left as he pulled his bird in the same direction. Did Tennyson get hit? Where is he? Cole didn’t see his wingman right off but also didn’t call up his IFF to ping him. “Santos get your ass over here quick, they got by Tennyson.”

“Fast burning to you,” replied the other pilot.

Cole did a quick calculation and realized he wouldn’t be able to shoot both enemy fighters bearing down on the civvies in time to save both civilian craft. He could, however, lock on to the first with his missiles then try to gun down the second with his Koryu. Let’s hope Tennyson did enough damage to take those shields down before he bought it.

Cole pulled up the missile readout and waited for four seconds as the missile racks mounted to his bird got three solid locks. He depressed the fire control and three Messenger-class anti-fighter missiles spat forward on small fusion engines to bear down on their target. He couldn’t watch to confirm the kill; he had to nail this other bastard with a quickness. Cole began lining up the shot at the most extreme range of the Koryu and goosed his engines for everything they were worth. It was a dangerous maneuver because in order to slow your craft down, regardless of the size, you must provide counter-thrust; there were no “air brakes” in a zero atmosphere environment.

“Just a little more…” Cole thought aloud. Then he got the confirmation of a solid lock and fired. Once the Koryu had recharged he fired again. The Kamikaze fighter never stood a chance as it got melted into oblivion. That’s just a taste of the hell that waits you in the next life, asshole.

It really pissed Cole off that the Kamikaze had no regard for civilians. They genocidally killed every human being they could, regardless of threat posed.

Suddenly there was a bright flash as an explosion appeared silently in the distance. Less than a second later another appeared. Two explosions? The Kami and… Cole realized and hoped against reality that the second explosion wasn’t the civilian transport. He frantically checked his LIDAR – which showed two expanding gas clouds moving in roughly the same direction. His IFF readout showed one civilian transport: S-81, but not S-82.

His heart sank… one-hunderd fifty-three people just lost their lives because he wasn’t fast enough to save them. They had trusted him and he couldn’t get the job done.

Then his comm crackled. Cole was about to tell Santos to save it for later but to his surprise it was Tennyson’s voice who broke through, “I’m sorry, Shaw. I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t do it.”

Cole checked his IFF readout, “Tennyson?! Where are you? Are you hit? I’ll come get you.” Cole said thinking his wingman had been shot down.

“I’m just… I’m so sorry Shaw. I just can’t do this, I’m not built for it after all,” the plea came.

Cole’s anger started to rise in him, “Tennyson… What the hell did you do?”

“I’ll own up to it, I’ll get out and you’ll never see me again!” The coward’s voice called through the comm.

Cole began scrutinizing his LIDAR display and found a wayward heat signature. It was Tennyson’s fighter burning straight away back to the fleet. Cole didn’t really think about what was happening, he just opened up his throttle after a minor course correction to give chase.

Tennyson’s IFF was off, meaning he wouldn’t be identified as a friendly craft but as a foe. Cole snapped on the thermal tracking and started lining up his Koryu as Tennyson’s voice kept pleading for mercy. Cole hit the jettison command for his missile pods to reduce his fighter’s mass and give him more acceleration to catch up to the traitorous little shit.

In just over a minute his thermal readout gave him a solid lock with his Koryu. Cole’s finger hovered over the trigger. Cole's conscience clashed with his contempt.

Waste that bastard. Give him the death sentence he gave those innocent people.

No, he’ll get a court martial and probably be hanged for desertion.

Why waste the time? He’s a dead man anyway.

Maybe but we have a rule of law.

And the law says deserters die. We need to focus on the enemy, not the petty legal system. Pull. The. Trigger.

Maybe you’re right. Besides, what’s the chances you’ll ever need to explain it? Probably won’t have to ever meet his family.

That’s right. And what about those civvies? They won’t get to see their families again. And their families won’t even get a body for the funeral.

Yea, that’s right. Waste the bastard.

Cole pulled down hard on the trigger. The fluorescent pink Koryu tore through empty space and annihilated Tennyson’s fighter. Cole let out a harsh, haggard breath as the would-be friendly craft was annihilated in a bright fireball. He instinctively eased up on his throttle as he came down off the adrenaline and anger.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been slowing down when Santos’ voice chirped in his ear, soft and considerate, “Good thing you got that runaway enemy fighter. No telling what kind of damage it would’ve done to the fleet.”

It took Cole a minute to catch his wingman’s meaning, “Yeah. Yeah, good thing. Couldn’t allow a threat to the fleet to stay active.”

“Nope, couldn’t allow that at all.”

December 5th, 2254 AD

AWDI province South Carolina, Earth

Shaw Farmland

Cole was half-way through another glass of whiskey and was watching the light of the lamp beside the couch dance through the glass’ imperfection. His father was silent. Cole was too.

“So yeah… that’s that. I’m a big hero, savior of a bunch of civvies. Killer of a fellow pilot,” Cole said softly, almost a murmur.

“Son you did the right thing. The Tennyson boy deserved it,” his father said, trying to reassure him.

“I’m not saying he didn’t, I’ve just never taken a human life away before. But I think I’d do it again. Not gladly, but I would if I had to.”

“And no one knows about this?”

Cole motioned around the room lazily and buzzed, “Just us and these four walls.”

“Because your fighter was destroyed?”

“Yeah, it burned up in Aganon’s atmosphere. I ejected as she started getting out of control upon hitting friction. She was shot up pretty bad anyway, I probably would’ve had to scuttle her. No way she would’ve landed back on Smile. Or any other carrier for that matter.

“When we banged out on Cancer II we had too many fighters and not enough ships to carry them. Attrition rates for the capital ships is real bad,” Cole explained.

“I can believe it. How did you manage to get away? You ejected but did the fleet send a rescue for you?” Cade asked, knowing that in a desperate situation like that the command authority wouldn’t risk nor wait on a slow moving rescue ship that was trying to save a wayward pilot.

“It was actually some hot shot freight hauler, whose call sign was Able-Niner. I never met her skipper but the guy, one Captain Mabry, pulled me in using a grav-beam. Very considerate of him,” Cole said.

“If you ever talk to him again, please thank him for returning my boy to me,” Cade said. Cole could tell his father was holding back tears. Cade never liked the idea of his son being in such danger, and it scared him knowing how close to death Cole had come.

“I don’t think I will see him again, but I’ll tell him if I do,” Cole promised.

Cade nodded in thanks to a man he’d never meet.

Cole let the face of TJ Tennyson – and his father, Jeremiah – haunt him briefly. He shut them out, wondering if there could ever to be peace for a traitor.

"Jet fighter design 1 by Hideyoshi"

Jet fighter image found via online search with the filter "public domain" - I am not the artist of that image.  Borrowed from Epsilon Eridani Regime private role player game forums.