Torian Reclamation 2: Flash Move (23 page)

“No,” Brandon said. “But I noticed its defensives are sluggish. We can probably take all the shots we want at it without much danger of being hit by return fire.”

“Then that’s what we’ll have to do,” Olut6 said. “Try to wear it down before it destroys every target on Banor. Take us back across at your convenience.”

Two more ITF1’s materialized above the satellite and let loose with missiles and the larger laser beams from under the cockpits. These were all direct hits. There were explosions of light on the surface of the object where the missiles impacted, same as before. The ITF1’s vanished and were long gone by the time the drone satellite returned fire. But it was still in place and didn’t appear damaged. It then resumed firing at Banor. One of Jol2’s squadron reacted quicker this time, and came close to hitting one of the missiles.

“That’s it, boys,” Brandon muttered. “React and adjust. React and adjust. Maybe we can get this thing timed…”

“Brandon?” Mip7 said. “Are you going to take another run at it? The other ITF1 pilots can see you here and might be waiting for us to make a move before coming in.”

“Wait,” Brandon said. “Hold on a minute.”

The satellite fired two shots at Banor, paused, and fired two more. This time, one of Jol2’s squadrons hit one of the missiles with a laser. It shredded into half a dozen parts that went spiraling off harmlessly.

“Great shot, Nectar!” Jol2’s voice said on the chatter.

“See there,” Brandon said. “They’re starting to time it. That’s how you beat levels on the simulator. It’s all artificial intelligence. We’re not fighting a thinking being who can spontaneously devise counter-strategies. That’s how I advance past a new level—by learning to time it. This thing is only a drone. We can out-think it.”

“You want to go down and help Jol2’s squadron try and shoot the missiles?” Mip7 asked.

“Wait,” Brandon said. He kept his eyes on the satellite. It fired a new volley, three this time, all of which got past Jol2’s squadron—but their shots were faster and more of those gunners were getting close.

“Are there additional squadrons of fighters nearby?” Brandon asked into the intercom.

“You bet,” Olut6’s voice said. “All you want.”

“Have four squadrons make single-file diving runs from the front side, with an evenly-spaced break between each run. I want to see if I can time its reactions.”

“I’m on it,” Olut6 said.

Mip7 shook his head. “Brandon, how can that help, even if you perfectly time its defense lasers? As you said, they’re too slow to be concerned over anyway. Our problem is this thing’s impenetrable hull.”

“From the outside,” Brandon said.

“Yes, but how do you suppose to get to the inside?”

“Remember the Azaarian warship?”

“Yes. You took that out by hitting the missile battery.”

“Exactly. The drone must be opening up to fire this Erob-forsaken weapon at Banor, or else the light-missile shoots are fixed openings. Either way, I’d like to see what happens if we hit it with a REEP blast from the bottom side at the precise moment it is firing.”

“The precise moment?” Mip7 asked.

“Precise moment would be best. Hopefully, close enough will work. The timing isn’t as hard as you think. This is what I do—at least, from the comfort of my living room.”

Olut6’s voice crackled back across the speaker.

“Brandon, your strikes are incoming now. Evenly-timed between four squadrons, as you suggested.”

Brandon and Mip7 looked up and saw the first group. They came down in a column and then all staggered out at the last moment to slightly different positions before firing lasers and dropping missiles. The satellite fired a defense laser back up where the single file of fighters had originally been.

A few seconds passed, and then Brandon could see the second squadron diving in the same formation. The satellite fired one of its fearsome red missiles at Banor before the second squadron attacked. It was a repeat performance, with the drone’s defense laser shooting at where the single column had spread out from after it was too late.

In between each diving attack from the Torian fighters, the drone fired exactly one missile on Banor. The first two got by, but Jol2’s squadron connected and destroyed the last two. They were getting better.

“That’s great, Brandon,” Mip7 said. “We can contain it this way.”

“Excellent,” Olut6’s voice said. “See why I brought you?”

Brandon wasn’t as thrilled. “I’m glad Jol2’s boys are getting some of the missiles now, but that’s not what I had in mind. General, I think I can time its firing on Banor. Have those four squadrons repeat those same dive patterns again, with exactly the same timing. Tell all the other ITF1’s to stay clear. I’m going to spot-dag us in underneath it right as the last dive-bomber clears. As soon as you get a yellow light, fire the REEP cannon.”

“You got it. Stand by.”

“You realize this is a little dangerous,” Mip7 said.

Brandon chuckled. “A little? If that thing’s main weapon hits us we’ll slice right in half. Might not even slow it down.”

“And Tora will lose its high military commander,” Mip7 said. “Not to mention the space station governor.”

“I have family down there.”

“I know. Just hoping you’ll …do a good job.”

“We won’t be hanging around more than a second, Mip7—assuming the general gets the shot off.”

“Don’t worry about me, boys,” the general’s voice said. “Here come your attack runs again. Let’s do it.”

Brandon flew the ITF1 up to the top side of the dark, oblong drone. He positioned themselves perpendicular with it, facing down towards the planet surface, just outside of laser range. They watched the first squad come in again from above the front side. The satellite reacted the same way, getting off a badly-timed defensive laser after the fighters had cleared, taking the Torian fire like a boxer with a steel jaw. In between dive-runs, it got exactly one shot off at Banor, just as before. It looked to Brandon like those shots were fired out of spite, to show it was still undamaged.

Jol2’s boys managed to get two out of the three missiles fired between the first three dive runs. They were timing it now, as Brandon was attempting to do. You had to anticipate it. This was like tennis, that old Earth sport. If you ever tried to return a serve from a pro, you knew you had to start your swing before you actually saw the ball coming—otherwise, you’d be pitifully slow and never have a chance at it putting it in bounds.

Brandon focused intently as the fourth dive-attack began, keeping his thumb on the manual dag control. Mip7 and Olut6 were silent. As the last two fighters of the fourth run approached, he hit the gas.

Instantly, they were down below the drone. Behind, the last fighter of the fourth group dropped its missiles and swerved to clear. It took a couple seconds for the ship to flash the yellow interior signal that they had come out of distortion space. Those were two of the longest seconds of Brandon’s life. Finally, it came.

“General, go!”

But Brandon didn’t have to tell him. The REEP gunner also had the distortion space alerts in the rear turret, and Olut6 timed the REEP blast accordingly. Good thing, because Brandon wasn’t staying put. He looked at the rear screen as he dagged back in, and the last thing he saw was a red flash coming from the front of the drone. That looked more or less perfect.

Brandon didn’t have a plan beyond getting away quickly. He ended up inside the atmosphere of Banor when he let go of the dag control and the yellow light came on again. It was a clear day, so the sky was mostly blue.

Except for the bright yellow explosion directly above them.

“That could be good news,” Mip7 said.

“Yeah. Let’s go see.” Brandon stayed with local propulsion and came back up into space. But they could already hear cheering and laughing on the radio chatter.

Jol2’s voice came on. “You boys will never believe who took the winning shot!”

Back in space, there was nothing above Banor but happy squadrons of fighters performing celebratory acrobatics.

“It worked,” Mip7 said. “You must have detonated their weapon as it was halfway out the shoot. That was brilliant. General, nice shot! You still with us?”

“Yes,” Olut6’s voice said. “Thank you. We still have a situation to deal with at the station. Take us back over—but slowly. I want to enjoy the show here.”

Brandon moved forward with local propulsion and enjoyed the show himself. Young Torian pilots showing off their flying skills doing twists, rolls, and dives. Brandon knew it would be a short-lived celebration, as most of them would no doubt be called into the fray at Cardinal-4. But Olut6 was allowing them this well-deserved victory dance.

As the space station drew near, Brandon could see something was changing. Defense pattern 109 didn’t appear to be quite the same pattern as when they left. It would be interesting to see what the enemy would do now that their attack satellite had been destroyed.

Brandon’s curiosity was soon satisfied. The ball formation of the enemy began breaking up. Hard as they were to see from this distance, Brandon could tell the enemy fighters were coming out from all sides of it in small groups and engaging the Torian fighters in dogfight-style battles again. Brandon decided to slow his ship to a stop and look for situations he could help in.

But it was hard to follow. The space between Amulen and Cardinal-4 became alive with individual dogfights and battles between groups of ships no bigger than three or four. Choosing a situation that needed help was near impossible, and it wouldn’t be there by the time Brandon arrived to help. Lasers were everywhere, diving ships making tight turns, explosions. Both sides were taking casualties.

“We have no advantage in this style of fighting,” Brandon said, mostly to himself. “Maybe even a disadvantage, since their ships are hard to see manually.”

Mip7 heard him and talked into the intercom.

“General, you should consider ordering a retreat, at least to this side of Cardinal-4. It’s chaos out there. We should reorganize.”

“Agreed,” Olut6’s voice said.

Fighters from Banor pulled up alongside Brandon’s ship, including two of the other ITF1’s. Soon the space between Cardinal-4 and Banor was heavily fortified with Torian spacecraft in a defensive formation. Then the retreat from the Amulen side began. At first the enemy ships gave chase, but were met with so much return fire on the back side of Cardinal-4 they had to give it up.

Within minutes, the entire Torian military had amassed on the Banor side of Cardinal-4. The enemy fleet was positioned on the Amulen side. Two squadrons of conventional fighters were still positioned both above and below the station. There was considerable wreckage drifting in space on the Amulen side. Brandon didn’t want to know how many Torian pilots just died in the battle there.

The enemy was now ridiculously outmatched. Any further attacks would be a suicide mission.

Suddenly, a ring of fiery light appeared above the space station. It was much larger than the virtual dags the enemy fighters used. The Torian fighters positioned there saw it and scrambled, then circled around and fired at it.

The huge light-ring faded. Two enemy fighters were now on both ends of where it had been. They returned fired at the oncoming Torians. One was hit and destroyed. The other managed to escape and retreat to the enemy formation on the opposing side of the station.

But what they left behind was another drone attack satellite.

“General, we’ve got trouble!” Mip7 shouted into the intercom.

“I see it! How in Erob do they attach those things to their distortion field generators and tow them across the galaxy!”

“We can’t defend the station from above!” Mip7 said. “General, we’re going to lose it!”

“I know that, extat! Brandon can you get between it again so I can blow it from the missile tube?”

“No,” Brandon said. “It’s too close to the station.”

“Extat!”

Torian fighters dove and fired upon the new drone.

Enemy fighters then began approaching, as if to help defend the drone. They couldn’t know exactly how the other had been destroyed, so probably now planned on defending the new one long enough for it to destroy the station. They came forward in a long line from their new defensive position.

Just then, a bright white light came up from the top of Cardinal-4. The drone had not yet gotten a shot off. It became immersed in the light. Seconds later, the entire space station lit up so bright Brandon and Mip7 had to put their hands up to shield their eyes.

“What’s happening?” Olut6’s voice said. “Is the station hit?”

Neither Brandon nor Mip7 replied. They only watched as the new bright light of the station reached out—as though it were an arm of light—through the drone satellite and into the line of oncoming enemy fighters. The drone exploded in a gigantic yellow fireball, and then the enemy fighters began exploding in sequence. While they were bathed in light, their shapes could finally be seen with the naked eye. They had an impressive design, and were sleek. But Brandon didn’t get a good look at them for more than a few seconds, as they blew up like a string of firecrackers in the arm of light.

The bulk of the enemy fleet saw what was happening and broke formation to retreat. The long streak of white light destroyed all oncoming enemy vessels. The rest turned and fled. In another moment, their dags all appeared and then the fleet was gone.

The white light retreated back into Cardinal-4, faded, and was gone. The station resumed its normal appearance.

Mip7 spoke into the intercom again. “General, can you communicate with the station bunker?”

There was a short pause.

“Yes,” he finally said. “They report all systems normal. What in Erob just happened?”

“I believe,” Brandon said, “we’ve witnessed the light weapon from Milura that the Latians and Dirgs were fighting over.”

“You mean the thing that extat Belle-ub said the half-breed races were responsible for?”

“Yes, General. That one.”