Fall of Icarus

the two groups face to face. The only thing that surprised Keryn was the length of time it took them to spot her force. Still, the Terrans had grown overly confident in their pursuit of what they assumed was a retreating enemy. They didn’t send a large group to intercept and destroy Keryn’s Cair strike force. They saw a group of lightly armed transports and sent only the minimal force they thought they needed to eliminate the new threat. The Terrans greatly underestimated Keryn’s resolve and tactical ingenuity, a mistake she would gladly shove back down their throats.

“We’ve got company,” Keryn warned to her insertion crew still strapped into their seats in the rear of the Cair Ilmun. By now, Keryn could only imagine the frustration they must be feeling. “Hold on for a couple more minutes and I’ll get you to a Destroyer.”

As the Terran fighters entered range, both sides opened fire. The Cair formation rolled independently of one another, dodging a lot of the incoming fire. Still, Keryn felt the Cair Ilmun jerk as a spray of machine gun fire struck one of the wings. Luckily for her, the wings were not a necessary part of space flight operations, only truly being used for stabilization once the Cair ship entered an atmosphere. Though it would have to be repaired, the injury to the ship wouldn’t keep her from the fight. In retaliation, the Cair cone returned fire. The overlapping machine gun fire filled the space in front of their formation with a nearly impenetrable wall of gunfire. Too late, the Terrans saw the effectiveness of their opponents and tried to evade, but there was no space within range that wasn’t being filled with the roaring machine gun bullets. Metal peeled away from the hulls of the fighters as they exposed bellies, wings, and cockpits to the deadly barrage. Wings tore free. Sparks lit the dark space around the ships. Fires filled and consumed the cockpits. By the time Keryn and her team quit firing, only debris filled the area before them. Though Keryn had lost nearly a third of her Cair ships to the fighters, they had opened a gaping hole through the Terran defenses, leaving the Destroyers to fend for themselves.

“We’re on a short timeline,” Keryn called over the radio. “It won’t take the Terrans long to realize that we’re attacking one of their flagships. Watch for fighters coming in from behind and tell your insertion teams good luck. On my mark, break formation. Three, two, one, mark.”

On her command, the cone broke apart with Cair ships heading off in nearly every direction. Though the tighter formation was effective against the Terran fighters, sitting too close to one another was a death sentence when facing the slugs and rockets of a Destroyer. As individual ships, they became small and difficult vessels to target by the slower yet dominating Destroyer weapon systems.

Dodging the dark metal slugs and massive rockets, Keryn led the Cair ships as they descended on the nearest Destroyer. Skimming the hull, Keryn watched the other ships fall on the Destroyer like leaches, extending and attaching their flexible boarding tubes onto the hull of the large ship. Extending like the proboscis of a butterfly, the tubes allowed Infantry soldiers access to the interior of the Destroyer.

Keryn chose a spot further down the hull in order to make her landing. Judging by the lack of weaponry in this section, she thought it closer to crew compartments, areas that would be unmanned during a fully involved space battle. The less resistance Yen and his team had to face getting onto the ship, the better the chance of their survival. And, to Keryn’s surprise, she was truly afraid of Yen getting hurt. As she set down on the hull, another Cair ship latched on just ahead of her, obviously sharing her ideology about keeping the team safe. The Cair Ilmun rocked gently as the boarding tube affixed to the hull, stopping the Cair Ilmun’s forward momentum. Unhooking quickly from her seat, Keryn opened the door to the crew compartment. Already free from their seats and locking magazines into their weapons, Yen and his team wore stern visages as they focused on the dangerous task at hand.

With a nod from Yen, Keryn pulled open the floor hatch near the cockpit, revealing the tube running to the solid hull beneath. One of the Infantry soldiers broke free from the group and wordlessly dropped into the hole. Though there was breathable air in the tube, he still dropped weightlessly to the Destroyer’s exterior. Reaching into his pack, he withdrew and began assembling a series of explosives in a circular pattern near the edge of the tunnel. Satisfied that everything was in place, the soldier pushed off from the ground, extending his arms upward as he flew back to the Cair Ilmun. When he was within range, Yen and Adam grabbed him and pulled him back within the safety of the ship.

With a smile, the Infantry soldier looked at Keryn. “Fire in the hole,” he said softly as he pressed the detonator in his hand.

A series of muffled explosions detonated on the hull beneath them, shaking the Cair Ilmun slightly. Thick dust and smoke rose through the hole, but the insertion team barely seemed to notice. One at a time, they dropped into the hole, drifting completely between the Cair Ilmun and the dark interior of the Destroyer below. The group disappeared until only Keryn, Yen, and Adam were left on board.

Reaching out with his large hands, Adam rested a hand on Keryn’s shoulder and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “You’ve done good so far,” he said reassuringly. “Be careful and we’ll see you soon.” Smiling one last time, Adam lifted his machine gun and dropped into the hole. Keryn watched him drop until his shaggy blond hair disappeared into the darkness below. Finally, it was just Yen and Keryn remaining on board.

“I want you to promise me that you’ll stay on the Cair Ilmun,” Yen said.

Keryn knew the wisdom behind his words. If they needed to evacuate quickly, which was always a possibility in their dangerous line of work, they needed her on board and ready to fly. However, Keryn also knew that most pilots ignored that rule and went into the ship as well. Especially in Keryn’s case, she was as skilled a fighter as anyone on the insertion team and Yen knew it.

“I can see the gears turning in your mind,” he said a little more sternly, “and I’m asking you not to go into the ship. No one knows what we’re going to face inside the Destroyer. They could have automated systems that are going to tear us apart as soon as we step foot on board. If that’s the case, then all you’ll do by following us is get yourself killed too. I care about you, Keryn, and I couldn’t do my job if I thought your life was in danger.”

Keryn was surprised his honesty. “Be safe and I won’t have to come after you.”

Yen stepped toward the edge of the causeway. Before he could enter the connecting passage, Keryn grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward her. Leaning in, she kissed him deeply.

“What was that for?” Yen asked, as they broke their embrace.

“In case you do something stupid and I don’t get to see you again,” she whispered.

Without a reply, Yen stepped over the edge and dropped toward the Destroyer below. Keryn’s smile quickly faded, replaced by a deep frown. She didn’t like being relegated to a support role, not when she was so capable in hand-to-hand combat. Still, she understood his concern, since she felt the same gnawing of worry in her belly knowing that Yen, Adam, and the rest of the team were now facing the unknown.

Closing the floor hatch behind her, Keryn walked back to the cockpit and began manning the two separate radars: one scanning the space around the Destroyer for any aerial threats and another scanning the interior of the hull. She only hoped they managed to complete their mission before either the Terran fighters outside or the Terran soldiers inside figured out what they were doing.

CHAPTER NINE

As Yen cleared the hole blasted into the hull of the Terran Destroyer, the artificial gravity tugged at his legs, pulling him into the darkness below. Landing in a crouch, Yen stood slowly, taking in the scene. Around him, their faces cast in dark shadows, his team had already spread out, taking up positions near the only door exiting the room. Checking his rifle, Yen examined the determined and anxious faces of his team. Though the masks of their faces remained stoic, he could see the shine of nervousness behind their eyes. He felt it too, though he would never admit it. His team had breached the hull of a Terran warship, one of the first teams of Alliance soldiers to do so in over a century and a half. The layout of the ship was unfamiliar, as were the hazards they would face. They were blundering into the unknown wielding only their martial abilities and the weapons by their side. Everything about the operation had the potential to end in disaster. Glancing up, peering through the hole above him, Yen looked to the hovering Cair Ilmun some thirty feet above him. Above him, Keryn sat at the controls of the ship, monitoring his team. Did she wonder what they were doing, sitting in the dark room below? Did she worry