Fall of Icarus

of her machine guns under her left wing. It boded ill, since the machine gun carried a large complement of ammunition. Iana hoped it wasn’t a fire. If the ammunition belts ignited, she wouldn’t have to worry about seeing Yen and his team killed. She’d be dead long before that happened.

Finally, much to Iana’s relief, the blue and green planet at the end of the tunnel came fully into view as she was launched out of the end of the wormhole. Disoriented and sickened, it took a moment to gain her bearings. Earth was now significantly closer than it had been before, but that didn’t mean that Iana had warped to the right location. Scanning her radar, she let out a sigh of relief as the three Terran fighters appeared directly below her. Aside from the structural damage to her ship, Iana’s warp had been perfect. Angling downward, Iana dove toward the three unassuming fighters.

Her rockets were launched before the Terrans were able to register that an Alliance ship had inexplicably appeared on their radars. Splitting their formation, one of the fighters climbed to intercept Iana while the other two continued skimming the atmosphere. Her plasma rockets streaked downward toward the darting fighters. The first two missiles struck the atmosphere and exploded prematurely, the tension causing the warheads to detonate. Sparks of plasma soared across the sloping atmosphere, filling the sky below with a dancing spectacle of lights. The third rocket, however, found its target, detonating near the engine well of one of the fighters. Consumed in flame, the Terran ship broke apart.

Instead of taking evasive maneuvers, Iana charged headlong toward the advancing Terran fighter. The one closing the distance with her was not her main concern. She knew that he was only a distraction; a tool to keep her preoccupied while the other fighter began its strafing runs against the Cair Thewlis and Yen’s team. Whether or not she destroyed the closer ship, she would have to bypass it eventually to reach the skimmer, the one she considered to be the much larger threat.

Fire leapt from the front of the Terran fighter as it climbed toward Iana. Turning into a barrel roll, Iana watched as tracer rounds flashed by the cockpit. Her Duun fighter jerked as bullets pierced her right wing. She glanced nervously out the window, but saw that the damage was minimal. Armored plating had been stripped away and shredded, exposing the wing’s mechanical inner workings. But, as far as she could tell, the wing was still fully operational.

Pressing down on her console, Iana returned fire. The forward machine gun, the one located under the nose of the Duun, fired first, filling the space between them with hundreds of rounds of hot metal. As the Terran turned to dodge the barrage, she opened fire with both the machine guns located under the wings of her ship. Not surprisingly, the machine gun under the left wing refused to fire. Pounding on the controls, she saw more smoke starting to billow from the weapon that had been damaged during her second warp.

Even without the second machine gun, her damage was done. The Terran fighter was struck repeatedly along the back half of the ship and small spouts of flame jutted from the punctures. The damaged fighter still continued forward, though its movements were now significantly more jerked and unsteady. Cutting her controls to the side at the last possible moment, Iana flew harmlessly past as the fighter continued its flight out further into space.

With the path now clear to the Terran fighter below, Iana accelerated into a steep dive, intent on attacking the ship from an angle that exposed the most surface to her assault. With the entire top of the ship open to her, Iana smiled broadly as she began firing her full complement of working machine guns. Round after round struck the atmosphere below the Terran fighter as he dodged and weaved in an attempt to shake her relentless attack.

Furrowing her brow in frustration, Iana dove closer, ensuring that her next volley would be fired from a much closer range. Her Duun fighter shook angrily as she pushed the controls forward, the damaged wing responding with trepidation as Iana approached the friction-filled atmosphere. The tones from her targeting array sounded wildly as her computer searched for a lock on the shifting Terran ship. Falling into place behind him, she stayed in stoic pursuit until she heard a solid tone, a satisfying notification that the Terran was now firmly in her sights.

Squeezing on the trigger, flames leapt forward as tracer rounds coated the hull of the Terran fighter. Smoking, the fighter pitched forward, its tail end flipping up above the cockpit. Angling downward, the fighter struck the atmosphere at an awkward angle. The friction from the atmosphere shredded the Terran ship as it pitched and rolled into a glowing ball of flame. Debris from the ship was cast far and wide, spreading like sand over the surface of the planet.

Satisfied and exhausted, Iana pulled up and began her flight back toward Alpha Two, who was still flying through the large open space between the satellite nodules and Earth below. Though weary, Iana knew that she had bought Yen all the time he should need to complete his mission. She hoped, however, that she had also bought herself some time to unwind. The Terran counterattacks, rightfully so, had been constant. Though she didn’t expect that to change now, she reveled in the momentary silence.

The silence, as she already knew it would be, was short lived.

“Alpha Leader, this is Charlie Four!” a harried voice called over the radio. “I have multiple launches!”

“From where, Charlie Four?” Iana asked, the exhaustion evident in her voice.

“From everywhere!”

Iana sat up in the pilot’s chair and checked her radar as other calls began filtering through.

“…entire southern hemisphere has launched ships…”

“…got multiple launches from previously unrecorded space ports…”

“…hundreds of ships heading our way. It looks like everything the Terrans have left was just launched…”

The radar was filling with red dots. Though nervous, her pilots were right in their assessment. This was the final push for a determined and desperate Terran defensive fleet. Feverishly typing on the console, Iana tried to calculate just how many ships they were now facing, but quickly lost count. If she had to guess, she would say that her remaining Squadron was now outnumbered twenty to one. Even if over half of those ships were the improvised fighters, she still doubted that they really stood a chance, especially not in the closer confines of the orbit around Earth.

Flipping a switch, Iana killed all the traffic from the Squadron. Pilots continued to yell in frustration, but their ships were no longer transmitting to the rest of the fighters. It was a rarely used kill switch that Squadron Commanders and, in Iana’s case, close subordinates had installed in their ships. When Iana spoke, her voice cut over all the other traffic and was clearly heard by ever remaining pilot in the Squadron.

“Have all the Cairs safely made it to the surface?” she asked, her voice calm and confident.

Though the replies were hesitant at first, they all quickly realized the necessity for answering quickly. “Roger, ma’am,” a gravelly voice replied as Iana let off the silencing switch on her console. “All remaining Cair transports have made their drops on the surface.”

Iana grimaced. She was glad that the transports were safely on the planet, but if the Terran ships regained air superiority, then the ground forces were still very much in danger. As far as Iana was concerned, that really only left her one option.

“All Squadron elements,” she ordered over the radio. “We need to buy the ground forces some more time. Break orbit immediately. Let’s see if we can pull as many of the Terran ships away from Earth as possible.”

Turning off her radio, she sped past Alpha Two, who fell into position beside her, and the pair launched past the dormant satellites and into the open space beyond. Behind her, filling the radar, dozens of Terran ships pursued.

“You want me?” she muttered. “Then come get me.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

“I expected more out of you,” the Terran called, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “I thought you were going to be a real challenge. You’ve turned out to be just another toy that I’ll break much too soon to fully enjoy.”

Yen wiped the spittle from his mouth with the back of his hand. The Terran psychic had attacked thus far with frightening power, tossing Yen aside as though he were little more than a ragdoll. Standing, Yen brushed the dirt and grass from his uniform and faced the Terran. “Who are you? What do you want?”