A Sol of Ends and Beginnings, Part 6
Mars orbit
Fraternity was first and foremost a scientific research ship. Radiators, sensors, and RCS thrusters dotted its hulls. It had few defensive capabilities other than its missile launchers. On the other hand,
Gradivus bristled with prototype directed energy weapons, nuclear missile launch tubes, high power machine guns, laser point defense networks, and most importantly railguns. The defenseless
Fraternity stood no chance. Had Julius ordered its destruction,
Gradivus could easily have obliterated
Fraternity from a distance. But the emperor wanted to show some mercy. So Captain Reinhard Higa put
Gradivus on a high-g burn towards
Fraternity before executing an equally high-g deceleration to match
Fraternity’s velocity.
Fraternity apparently did not see
Gradivus approaching with its sensors, even before the micrometeorites hit. But now
Gradivus was too close to be targeted with missiles, as the debris created would most certainly hit
Fraternity at such a close range.
Gradivus, its hull reinforced by a second layer of armor, had no such flaw and opened fire with a broadsides salvo right out of the Age of Sail, one that would make
Ar Morlaer Rouanez proud. Analysts had constantly harped to Julius that any serious space battles would only take place at long range. Determined to prove them wrong, despite knowing that longer range would reduce casualties, Julius ordered Higa to close in to what he called “knife fight” range and unleash hell. And so Higa did. The emperor wanted a glorious battle with a clear winner, despite ordering
Fraternity to be captured intact.
Once the machine guns and lasers had taken out all of the missile launchers, it was now completely safe for the boarding parties to cross.
Gradivus fired its starboard thrusters, pushing it closer and closer until it rammed into
Fraternity’s side, heavily scratching the latter’s nameplate. Grappling cables were deployed along the length of the two ships, puncturing deep into
Fraternity’s hull and keeping
Gradivus in alignment. As both
Fraternity and
Gradivus were third generation
Nomad-class ARC ships, both ships’ airlocks were in the same place relative to each other, so they could be aligned with no issues.
In one of the airlocks, Commander Tetsuya Hochenburg listened to the sound of hissing air as pressures equalized and a seal was established. He unsheathed his two daggers and held them in reverse grips. They were curved like the fangs of a wolf, and the light of the airlock reflected off the line of red paint running down their middles, almost like a trail of blood. The blades were lightweight, and the hilts fit perfectly in his calloused hands.
A “knife fight” indeed. They had served him well since he was still in Nebenstrand.
Around him, the rest of the boarding party readied their swords, daggers, axes, and naginata. The hulls of
Fraternity were not built to withstand a firefight, so a regular bullet could easily puncture through multiple layers and potentially cause an atmospheric breach. Therefore, they carried melee weapons instead of guns.
Fraternity’s crew still used guns, but the above structural flaws would force them to hesitate before shooting, to avoid breaching the outer hull. Explosives were also ruled out for the same reasons.
“Weapons check.” One by one, everybody affirmed they were ready.
“
Hai!”
“Good. Remember, no harming civilians.”
“
Hai!”
The light turned from red to green with a beep, and the door slid open.
“Let’s show these UN traitors the power of true men!”
“
Hai!”
Gradivus’ computer technicians overrode the security on
Fraternity’s doors and forced them open, revealing a line of UN soldiers. “Attack!” The boarding party charged. The UN soldiers hesitated, at first assuming that the increased artificial gravity of
Fraternity would instantly pin them to the floor. However, Tetsuya’s crew was unfazed. They had spent months training on an imperial space station that generated spin gravity at 1g. So while their enemies hesitated and tried to comprehend why they weren’t acting any differently, Tetsuya buried his daggers in the shoulder and neck of the nearest soldier like a viper sinking its fangs into prey.
Now too close for the enemy to aim their rifles, he moved on to the next one, stabbing deep into the man’s back twice. By now, the rest of his team had caught up with him, and they set upon the UN soldiers with the ferociousness of animals, tuning out their screams and pleas. Once they were done, all that was left of their enemies were scattered piles of flesh, spilled entrails, and splatters of blood on all four sides of the airlock.
“The way is clear,” Tetsuya radioed, “Send the rest.”
“Proceed…Crimson Viper,” Captain Higa said.
Yes, that’s who I am, no matter what.
---
“Shrapnel wound in the abdomen.”
“Blood pressure is 110 over 70.”
Papadopoulos looked over the new patient. He had been carried in on a stretcher, with a decently large gash across his side. A piece of metal stuck out of it. It could be treated with enough time, but there were three more patients behind him, and the line was only getting longer every few seconds. Papadopoulos wrote the number 2 on the patient’s hand. “Start an IV. Send him to the others.”
“Yes, Doc.”
The next patient arrived. Her arm was broken, and her face was covered in bruises. This diagnosis was easier. Papadopoulos wrote the number 1. “Set that bone and give her some ice.”
After that, another man was carried in on a stretcher. This one…well, he was still breathing, but there was so much blood and exposed innards that he couldn’t tell where the wounds ended. He probably could figure it out, but again, he was out of time. It pained him to do so, but as a doctor, he had to save as many lives as possible. He wrote a 3. “Get him some morphine.”
Save as many lives as possible…yes, to make up for my utter failure. But all I have done is run again. I’m still a coward, am I?
He walked over to another patient in priority 2. “Lie back, just relax.” The woman nodded and tried to relax. Papadopoulos waved down another medic. “Start a transfusion.”
He continued making the rounds, pointing out things the rest of his team might have missed and making sure every patient got the appropriate level of care they could provide. Suddenly,
Fraternity shook as another missile hit somewhere. The lights flickered. Papadopoulos resumed walking, but as he raised his foot, it didn’t come back down. His other foot pushed off the floor, leaving him flailing helplessly in the air, completely weightless. It seemed the missile hit close to Dorothy’s reactor.
How dare they mess with her work, there will be hell to pay when she finds out—wait, I should really focus on getting out of this mess. He tapped his heels, and the emergency electromagnets on the bottom of his shoes activated, pulling him back to the floor. He looked around, identifying which patients needed help the most. The rest of his staff had also engaged their mag-shoes, and now they were helping patients back into their beds and stretchers. But almost every patient’s groans and screams of pain had intensified. Without gravity, blood couldn’t drain from wounds and would instead pool inside the body, causing more damage. The gravity had to come back on soon, or his shift would take a turn for the worst.
Come on, Dorothy, work your magic.
Fortunately, the gravity plating reactivated seconds later, and everything not pinned down now fell back to the floor. Nothing shattered or broke. Exposed sharp edges were a danger to doctors and their patients, especially in zero-g when they could fly around at random. So everything was designed to avoid that.
Thanks, Dorothy. He looked up one of the walls. There were no windows, but he knew the surface was in that direction. Down there, Dorothy was still fighting.
Please stay safe.
Outside Beck
Across the plains of Arabia Terra, the Balmung and Roland charged at one another, locking swords for the briefest of moments before disengaging and retreating. The two autoritters alternatively circled and pursued each other across the red hills and craters, looking for any openings. Every time Durendal’s plasma blade activated, Angelica made sure the Balmung stayed clear of it, sometimes dodging with only a split second and several inches to spare. In response, Dorothy reduced the frequency at which she activated the plasma. Sometimes, a regular sword attack would suddenly become charged with plasma mid-swing. Other times, the plasma would activate only after the steel blade made contact. Still, Angelica managed to avoid critical damage by pulling back, displaying incredible reflexes and intuition. The Balmung was now permanently in wheeled mode for the extra speed and agility, and the Roland followed suit. Dorothy had the advantage in specs and physical ability of the pilot. Being used to 1g allowed her to withstand far greater g-forces, so she could easily execute turns, jumps, and accelerations far beyond what Angelica’s body could take. Angelica knew this, of course, and adopted a more defensive stance. She had two advantages over Dorothy. First, even though the Roland’s latency was far smaller than the Balmung’s, Angelica had spent the last few years customizing the Balmung to perfectly respond to her piloting style. Second, she had far more combat experience than Dorothy. That would be enough to level the playing field. The Roland might run circles around the Balmung, and Durendal could cut through nearly anything, but if Angelica left no openings or anything to cut, she could stall Dorothy until the plasma generator ran out of power.
I need to keep my distance. That autoritter’s speed and maneuverability are truly astonishing. But Dorothy’s movements follow a pattern. Initial attack head-on, no feints, but she might break out the plasma at the last second. Dodge that, she moves to avoid my counterattack. So if I can make use of that pattern…
Dorothy approached head-on for another attack, drawing Durendal back.
Right, here she comes. Now I just need to… At the last minute, just as Durendal’s plasma activated, Angelica gunned her throttle and shifted to the left, then slashed from the side, aiming at the Roland’s legs. Dorothy jumped over Angelica’s sword.
Good, and with that… Angelica used the momentum from her swing to turn around and kick the Roland’s back. The spin put immense strain on her body, and she was unable to fully commit to the kick, so the damage was minimal.
Damnit, I miscalculated the amount of g-force in that spin. Need to fix that before—
“TOO SLOW!” Dorothy was already approaching for another attack.
Angelica realized she needed to slow down Dorothy’s attacks, otherwise she would be stuck reacting to them and unable to retake the advantage.
---
The two autoritters’ clash was so intense that neither of them paid any attention to their surroundings other than to find cover or pick up makeshift weapons. The Balmung hid behind a rock, dropped a mine, and then sped off. The Roland approached the rock and detonated the mine from a safe distance with its anti-personnel machine guns, then continued its pursuit of the Balmung. When Angelica turned around and began another charge, Dorothy grabbed a destroyed tank and threw it at the Balmung, forcing her to abandon the charge. While doing so, Dorothy began her own charge, activating her plasma blade at the last moment. Angelica grabbed a destroyed autoritter and used it as a shield, the plasma being wasted on cutting through the wrong autoritter’s armor. Frustrated, Dorothy deactivated the plasma and accelerated back before Angelica could strike her with the Balmung’s sword. Retreating to a safe distance, she shrugged her shoulders, jabbed her fists forward, and fired rockets at Angelica. The Balmung swerved and dodged several of the rockets—which exploded against the ground just seconds after the autoritter was no longer there—then threw the remains of the destroyed autoritter in the path of the remaining rockets, using her sword to cut down the few rockets that still made it through that shield. The Roland burst through the smoke created by the explosions, sword once again aimed straight at Angelica. The Balmung put up its sword in time to block the strike, and the two autoritters pulled back. It was over in seconds.
They continued their dance across the battlefield, passing by sandbags and trenches and hastily stopped columns of troops, APCs, and tanks. Even the autoritters stood at attention, their pilots transfixed by this duel. Both sides were frozen with awe, watching as the Roland and Balmung—Dorothy and Angelica—drew away from each other, then closed in at breakneck speeds for a charge, their swords clashing for the briefest of moments before they withdrew again. On one approach, the Roland grabbed the Balmung by one of its shoulder armor plates and held it in position while Dorothy readied Durendal’s plasma blade. In response, Angelica brought the Balmung’s knee up towards the Roland’s midsection. When both Durendal and the knee hit their marks, Angelica instinctively pulled back, while the Roland’s AI assist kicked in and forced the autoritter into reverse. Taking back direct control, Dorothy used her backwards momentum and went into a spinning kick, which Angelica ducked and countered with a sweep to the legs that Dorothy also avoided. The two autoritters once again drew back, that brief clash over in the blink of an eye as the two went back to observing the behavior of the other in preparation for the next one.
“Impressive,” Angelica said, “For a girl who hasn’t been doing this for long, you fight like a natural.”
“Come on!” Dorothy said. “Is that all you’ve got, Valkyrie of Alençon? If a greenhorn like me can match you, what does that say about you?”
“Oh, I’ll show you what I can
really do!”
Dorothy grinned. “That’s what I want to hear!”
The two were evenly matched. Neither of them could find any gaps in the other’s defenses as they tore across the battlefield. Dorothy’s better specs and physical strength was matched by Angelica’s experience and quick thinking. The two autoritters showed no signs of slowing down. If the atmosphere was thick enough to not require vac suits, the sounds of steel clashing on steel would have been heard for miles around. One couldn’t be blamed if they forgot these were giant mechanical monstrosities. They moved so fast and reflected their pilots movements’ so well that they seemed nearly human. It almost looked like they were truly Dorothy and Angelica clad in shining armor and wielding giant swords, instead of their autoritters doing the fighting.
Truly, they were knights for the modern age, living up to the name “autoritter.”
---
The Sigurd arrived outside Beck. Julius’ computer spotted the Roland and Balmung still fighting in the distance. He calculated he could get there within another five minutes and break up the fight before something happened. Yes, there was still time. Surely that upstart UNAP pilot couldn’t fight both him and Lady Neumann at the same time. They would put her six feet under, drag the remains of her autoritter back to Olympus Base, and integrate every useful bit of its design into the Sigurd. It could still be done now.
Then the computer noticed what seemed like an explosion at the base of Beck’s main dome. It seemed like one of the closest airlock to his location had just blown out. And it was even a larger airlock designed for military vehicles. Julius could probably fit the Sigurd in there. Was it a sign? Divine providence, blessing his inevitable victory today? Beck could fall, right now. All he had to do was storm that airlock and push inside to Central Authority.
But Angelica is right there!
Same with the airlock!
I could end that stupid duel right now!
But I could end the entire war!
That upstart pilot could be destroyed!
But the Security Council could be destroyed!
Julius clutched his head. “Argh! Why must you make me decide?!”
He could just stop the battle in a minute. With the overwhelming firepower and mobility of the Sigurd as well as his own tactical brilliance, that UNAP woman wouldn’t stand a chance. Then they could take out Beck. But what if they repaired that airlock and reinforced it while he did? On the other hand, he could call up another autoritter squad, storm that airlock, then push to Central Authority within ten minutes. Force the Security Council to surrender, and then there would be no reason for that duel to continue. The specs of the Sigurd would ensure he came to no harm during that assault, whereas he was concerned about the Roland’s plasma blade. But if he could end the battle before she had the chance to break it out…
“My lord, sir!” an autoritter drove up to him and saluted. “I’m Knight Ehrenfried. We spotted a malfunctioning airlock and are moving to attack it before they restore security! This is a unique opportunity for your to bring this war to an end! Please, let us escort you!”
“Es…escort?” Julius said. “But—”
“Please, my lord!” Ehrenfried moved behind the Sigurd and “patted” it on the back. “We don’t have time to spare. Let’s attack, for the glory of the Reich!”
“Lady Neumann—”
“Lady Neumann can’t lose! You need not worry about our best knight. While she distracts UNAP’s remaining forces and their champion, we can sneak in and take their capital, my lord!”
“I…uh…well…” Julius stammered. Then he caved in, his divided mind unable to come up with something to counter Ehrenfried’s enthusiasm. “Very well, then. Let’s capture Beck and put an end to their dream of a dead Earth.”
He engaged wheeled mode and made for the airlock.
Beck
“Come on, pick up…” Clara looked at her phone, then back at the computer screens. The Roland’s maintenance team closely monitored the system data and camera feeds coming from the battlefield. Some sounded excited, talking about the unprecedented levels of data they were getting from both the Roland and Balmung, while others remained quiet, fully focused on the battle.
“Hello?” Papadopoulos said. The connection was unstable and full of static. Even without the static, Papdapoulos’ voice was barely audible over the doctors’ panicked shouting and patients’ cries of pain in the background. “Clara, that you?”
“Hey, Doctor,” Clara said, “Did you hear about Dorothy?”
“Yeah, I did,” Papadopoulos said, “Can you get in touch with her?”
“Not anymore,” Clara said, “Probably for the best. You…you knew about it, didn’t you? I knew about the Roland, sure, but…all those times she said she suddenly had to cancel or got lost…she told me earlier. That was her work, right?”
She blamed herself for not catching on sooner. Something as complex as the Roland needed hundreds of sols of field testing, and there was no way Dorothy got as good as she did in just one day.
On Fraternity
Papadopoulos nodded. “You got me. I was her handler.”
“Figures,” Clara said, “Someone like you had to have covered for her. I mean, seriously, taking the wrong train all the way to Kirovagrad? Makes little sense.”
“Oh, no, she actually did take the wrong train,” Papadopoulos said, “It was pure coincidence that the Austrians happened to attack the city right as she arrived.”
“I can’t really believe that, can I?”
“Believe it or not, that actually happened.”
“How much else are you keeping from me?”
“I…” Papadopoulos couldn’t respond.
A glare, unlike any he had seen before. From her, of all people.
“You stay where you are.”
“—, what’s going on?” He didn’t deserve to remember her name.
“Don’t call me —! I know what’s going on between you and —!” The other name…what was it all for in the end? He never did see her again.
“—, calm down, I can explain…”
“I have your emails! Don’t deny it! You were going to leave me! Leave me and — and go with her! You said you loved her! Did you not love me?!” Another name he didn’t deserve to know.
“—, I do love you. That’s why I married you.”
“What do you see in her? What does she have and I don’t?”
He couldn’t answer. Nothing he could answer with would be sufficient.
“Answer me!” She demanded an answer.
“—, I’m sorry.” Insufficient. Inappropriate. Meaningless.
“Do you still love her?”
He looked at the floor. He didn’t know what to say. His mind screamed at him to explain, but his heart was torn.
“Do you still love her?!”
He sighed and looked at her. In that fleeting moment of weakness, his torn heart uttered one word. One word he didn’t truly believe. One word that ended everything.
“Yes.”
He had to come clean. “I…I’m sorry. Dorothy asked me to.”
“Her?”
“Dorothy doesn't like talking about her past,” Papadopoulos said, “Same as I do. She wanted to be a new person on Mars. I’ve only known her as Dorothy. We mutually agreed it was best to leave our past lives behind. She wanted to escape the horrors she went through, and I had forfeited all rights to who I used to be. We built new lives on
Fraternity. But she…she realized it was all as fragile as the life support of the ARC ship and the atmosphere of Earth. It could all come crashing down if the skeletons escaped Earth’s gravity well. The Empire was the very embodiment of those skeletons. She wanted to protect her new life and everyone in it. And so, she took up a gun and asked me to cover for her, as someone in a similar situation. She didn’t want to worry you or anyone else.”
“…iot,” Clara whispered.
“What was that?”
Beck
“Id…Idiot!” Clara said. “We’re friends! We’re supposed to stand by each other, no matter what. She should’ve known that telling me about her work wouldn’t worry me. I’d have figured something out! I’d have supported her, no matter what! Because I, I…”
She slumped into a chair, wiping away tears. A certain face appeared in her mind. “I too lost someone I cared about. I too rebuilt my life after the end of the world. I too want to make sure the people I know now don’t leave me. Dorothy’s not alone. If she thinks I can’t take it, she’s wrong. There isn’t anybody on this damn planet who hasn’t lost someone. She should know that better than anybody. What matters is we stick together, now that we have each other. What’s the point of a friend’s honor if she hides such a big part of her from me?”
Clara looked at the Roland’s video feeds. Many of them showed various external angles, giving the maintenance crew a front-row seat to the titanic clash between the Roland and Balmung. One, though, had a view of the cockpit. Dorothy’s face was dripping with sweat, and her eyes were both narrowed and full of rage—no, determination. “So this is the real Dorothy, huh? The woman who wants to protect her new life at all costs. If only you had told me sooner, I could have helped you…”
“There’s nothing we can do right now,” Papadopoulos said, “Anything we could do would only get in her way.”
“Then what?! Everybody’s busting their butts doing so much to save humanity! Even Dorothy’s out there fighting the goddamn Valkyrie of Alençon. You’re saving lives on
Fraternity. But here I am, still in a lab in Beck, watching video feeds. Feels like I’m dead weight.”
“Then do nothing.”
Clara stared at her phone. “Do…nothing?”
“If you do nothing, you won’t put yourself in danger,” Papadopoulos said, “Isn’t that what Dorothy’s fighting for? To protect you? What would she think if you died anyways? How would she live with herself knowing she couldn’t protect you? The best thing you can do right now is do nothing. Do nothing and
live for her. You made her a promise, right? A promise to get pizza in Piddletown?”
Clara’s face reddened when she realized her entire conversation with Dorothy had been broadcast over a public frequency. “Y-Yeah, I did.”
“You swore on a friend’s honor, so you better keep that promise on your end,” Papadopoulos said, “That’s what friends are for.”
On Fraternity
Papadopoulos heard Clara laughing on the other end. “You’re…right, Doctor. How did I not see it?”
“You’re friends, aren’t you?” Papadopoulos said. “So live for her, just as she lives for you. Protect each other, because that’s what friends do.”
Clara’s voice regained some of her pep. “That’s right! I have to live for her! That promise is for me as much as it is for her! Thanks, Doctor. You always know what to say.”
“I
am a doctor.”
It’s more that I know what to not
say, from experience.
The ship shook again, provoking more screams from the patients. Not only that…Papadopoulos’ ears picked up the sounds of gunshots in the distance, gradually getting louder.
“Well, looks like I can’t talk much longer,” he said.
It seemed Clara heard the gunshots too. “Wait, Doctor, is that—”
“I’ve got patients to tend to,” Papadopoulos said, “Like Dorothy, I want to save lives, but in a different way. You’ve got your part to play, I’ve got mine.”
“Dr. Papadopoulos!”
“I’ll talk to you later, Clara.” Papadopoulos lowered the phone from his ear. “Hopefully, it’ll be when the three of us can gather again…over that pizza.”
He hung up.
“Hey, you want to get away next weekend? Family day trip.”
“Sure. Where?”
“I don't know. How about we hop on an airship and go down to — like we used to?” A place that had not existed in 21 years, wiped off the map by an Indian nuke.
“Another airship? You know how expensive those are? And —?”
“Yeah. We can go to that — on the —.” If it had survived the nuke, the lack of maintenance probably did it in by now, and the owner was probably long gone.
“—?” He had forgotten the name, but just picturing it in his head brought on a wave of nostalgia.
“Right. Remember how great their — was? — spent so much money on it every time.” Some old tunes played in his head, accompanied by an adorable smile. A smile that he would never seen again for the rest of his life.
“Over pizza, huh?” Papadopoulos muttered. “Looks like I’m not going to make it. You two kids have fun in Piddletown.”
---
The ship-to-ship battle between
Gradivus and
Fraternity makes use of the “knife-fight range” tactics that would become common to HTE ship combat in the future.
Ar Morlaer Rouanez was a Breton queen. The grammar might be off but I did the best I could.
