Logbook entry

Stars in The Storm, 4: Valiant Souls

28 Dec 2023Meowers


We were okay, more or less. A few ships that I was concerned about, yet mostly in a good fighting shape. Rescue transports were at about two thirds of their capacity. My thoughts were mostly about the Titan's alerted state, space around it might've been still full of patrolling bugs, though the turrets at one of its sides were destroyed and regenerating them takes more time. So... The announcement.

"We're going back to the Titan. Transports, keep bombarding it with your extraction charges while you still have them or some free space left. Fighters, go first and engage damn everything that moves, they need a clear corridor to reach the beast. Damaged ships, proceed with the transports and stay close to them."

As much as I expected, some volunteers weren't exactly happy with the idea. AXDF and resistance forces pilots knew what we were doing and why. Can't blame those folks however... Some of them weren't expecting such a deep dive with unclear chances of survival. I let them express their opinions in order and then added.

"Those who don't want to fight more may stay at a distance, within the visual range so that we could pick you up on our way back. Or you may head home right now, I won't say a single bad word about you. Honestly, thank you, from my very heart. Though in that case we won't be able to cover you. However. A thing I want you to know. And to remember. And to carry with yourselves."

"Valiant souls face death only once."

I turned straight to the Titan and checked my systems once again. Mostly okay.

"Now... Charge."

The area wasn't exactly swarmed with the Thargoids but the presence was enough for many of my fighters to spread out and lock them up in fights, giving the transports a breach to run through safely. Some ships from our back ranks, reluctantly at first, but then confidently joining the combat, tipped the scales and greenish clouds and explosions decorated the space around the Titan once more. I knew it wasn't going to last for long. But we were there to get the most of it.

The Thargoids were at their home, at a relative safety, protected by a disgusting shroud, minefields, millions of tonnes of caustic substance, turrets, repulsion fields, even the pure psychological effect of the bloody Titan. And we were getting the fight to their front door, just a single group of twenty six combat ships and fourteen transports. We arrived to break their faces and their faith, to get people back from their greedy claws, leaving destruction in our wake. And, personally, I was there to let them feel what the fear actually is, once more.

"Transports, keep me updated on every ten percent of your capacity, I need to know how long we could stay!"

More of them appeared and honestly I didn't count, roughly enough to dispatch my second wing, three ships at the moment, and keep dishing out hate on that Cyclops in front of me, feeling my heartbeat in my fingertips, pressing the triggers and zipping left to right, avoiding its fire. Once it started to falter, shake and leak, emitting the low pained groan, I switched to the Glaive that was annoying me all that time and the pesky thing surprisedly spinned and tried to get away, scratching the piece of asteroid nearby, losing control and splatting into it, instantly falling apart and disappearing in a cloud of oozy mush.

I locked on another one yet a disturbed comm transmission interrupted my spree of death and silence.

"This... Gold 1-4, hit hard... Losing control, coolant leak, ...ines not respon..., can't..."

"Gold 1-4, eject! Eject! Platinum 9, get there and pick up his pod!"

How damn could I miss that freaking Scythe following him like a vulture, the sinister thing already thrown a whole fleet of collector drones knowing this one was dangerous. I opened fire on them, the transport opened fire, but... There were just too many. One of them eventually grabbed the pod and immediately turned back to its host which was nearby already. There was nothing we could do.

A faint signal reached us, one from the suit comm device. "Long live humanity!".

He... He slammed the pod door open and, reaching the Scythe, got a bunch of grenades from his belt. The internal explosion shook the beast and a stream of smoke and fire erupted out of its cavity, the Scythe twitched in pain and a second later it was in my firing range and I pressed the triggers, ending its miserable life once and for all.

Shit I hate those bastards.

Too many of them. More appeared and we were pushed back to the transports, but still keeping them away and maintaining more presence at the retreat direction. Some transports had to get their turrets firing as well. Thankfully, staying in a proper formation, they had every sector generously covered. Phah... Another piece of old warfare knowledge I picked up from the books, never hurts.

I dashed to the Basilisk alone, hoping to at least pull this arsehole farther away, my rounds hit its armoured carapace and the beast returned fire, forcing me to lean on the sticks heavily, evading. Mion's fighters were awfully busy a few kilometres away, dispatching the Glaives they were surrounded with one by one with focused fire, AXDF and volunteers formed a perimeter around the transports. Some of them were already out of extraction charges.

Finally, the transport leader reported. Ninety five to full capacity, no charges left. How many people were in there?.. Thousands.

"All right, people, head out. Silver wings, push forward, Bronze stay near the transports, Gold, go reverse and keep those shits under fire. I will join you in a minute."

Damned Basilisk. Engines were overloaded in that damn bloody cloud and I personally had a few breaches in the left exhaust, Marshmallow could easily outrun it in free space yet... Not now. I had to force it to retreat at least, it could be more than a nuisance with its speed.

A sudden bright white flash caught my eye and I saw a Glaive ramming one of the volunteers' Anacondas, a giant hulking ship shuddered and a burst of flames went through the breach in its side, the Glaive shattered to pieces, leaving the ragged chunks stuck in the armoured steel. I commanded the pilot to eject, I literally shouted at them, but they didn't listen, squeezing every bit of power out of the ship, boosting towards me, losing pieces of armour plating and internal components, swaying side to side stronger every second, cannons still firing yet hardly controlled. And then the Anaconda, engulfed in flames, rammed the Basilisk, exploding, punching the beast brutally and pushing it away from me, leaving a nasty crack in the carapace through which the greenish fluid gushed under the pressure, some splats covering my cockpit glass. Jagged, torn metal debris of the ship showered in every direction, some of them remained sticking out of the beast's flesh. It took me less than a minute to finish the bastard... I couldn't let that go in vain.

Maybe I've... Underestimated some of them. If that's the case, I'd gladly admit and accept my mistake.

"This is... Bronze 1-4... Medusa after me! Can't see... Sensors are out, canopy cracks... Going blind!"

Dammit. More arseholes. My group was about five to fifteen kilometres away already, I saw AXDF pilots going reverse and ripping pieces off the pursuing Thargoids, and one familiar, spiked silhouette diverting from the course. The godsdamned Medusa. I had no chance to fight it properly with those clown guns no matter how many of them I destroyed before. I switched all power to the engines and boosted, commanding that pilot to keep running straight ahead... The remaining group was to the right. Relative to me. But it might've been the other side for the pilot. And no time to correct the bearings by picking planets on the nav.

I reached the Medusa and opened fire. Shit those guns are shit. Instead of a literal roaring thunder of Gauss or Shard cannons, they do that puny 'whirrr-ra-ta-ta-ta-ta' and merely tickle the bugs whilst our standard weaponry could punch see-through holes or rip their flesh to shreds. Instead of lighting up the heart in a few seconds, it took me the same few seconds to simply let the bastard notice me and turn, losing the speed, giving me a chance to dash past it, baiting the lightning discharge attack but getting out of the range quickly, dropping heatsinks like it's no tomorrow and evading its fire. Past it, I noticed a lone Krait running, with its right lateral thrusters flashing with blue flames and dropping sporadic sparks. Might've been the reason why this ship wandered off, combined with canopy damage and fried sensors.

"Look around, you should have a visual. Can you see me? I'm right in the middle between you and the group. There's like a seven kilometres wide interval, bank to the side and rejoin, maintain the speed, you're going fine. Don't use your laterals, they're off balance."

The friggin' Medusa. Still after me. I boosted, threw more power to the cannons, made sure the path was clear and turned around, going reverse and squeezing the triggers... Then the familiar droning hum appeared. The repulsor. Though now it could've given us a little more jolt forward, some ships could slam into mines, so... Not taking any chances. Thankfully, the comm interference wasn't that much intensive in the eye of that storm. I turned around to the normal flight and darted closer to the fleet, looking at the formation, calculating the moments to charge the neutralisers for each group. We were badly strained with some damaged ships lagging behind and AXDF pilots still catching up with the rest after providing the covering fire. Knowing who was on one of the transports... Those bastards pursued us relentlessly, even scratching the asteroid pieces, firing wildly, sending those godsdamned swarms one after another, luckily from too far away already.

"On my mark... Listen closely, that might be a messy one. Three... Two... One..."

Lucky, again. Just two ships got thrown forward by the repulsor field, both fighters, they could withstand a few hits. I saw their trajectories and went in between, relaying the signals, pointing them back at the group. The rest of the way through the mist was like... In a mist itself. We were exhausted. Battered. We sustained some losses. A few ships were barely keeping up with the pace. However... Now, we were safe. Nobody said a word, but everyone probably understood what we've just been through, why we did it and what we achieved by putting ourselves between the innocents and the Thargoids, once again. We started charging our jump drives...

A friggin' target lock signal. Not a Thargoid one, but from human ships. I turned the contacts and ID panel on... Damn them bloody bastards. Fucking Azimuth freaks, dropping on our tails and opening fire. Crap, just when I thought we could breathe out and relax. Fucking traitors, they're even worse than the Thargoids. And we couldn't fight them, being that roughed up and locked onto the escape trajectory. I activated my open comms.

"Cheap traitors, try an open fair fight! Ah, sorry, I forgot, you can't."

One of Mion's fighters lost its right engine thrust and started spinning out of control, dropping its shattered armour plating pieces, with flames and internal explosions shaking the crippled ship, until it eventually got lost a blinding flash of burning fuel. The ship from my group, one with the damaged engine, has become their next target. Damned drives were charging so slowly with so many ships around...

"Gold 2-3... Losing power, can't take much more of it!"

"Dammit! Reset the jump, target another system and break away, get out of the mass interference! Wait for 2-4 and eject, she will pick you up! Gold 2-4, follow him, grab the pod and get back to Koleti on your own!"

I hate that blasted Azimuth... Why can't they understand? Sometimes I think their operatives are brainwashed or implanted with mind control thingies. Or high on drugs. Or they're a sect of fanatics. Or everything combined. Might be not that far from being the truth. Falling apart, the doomed Challenger made a jump and another one followed it immediately. I crossed my fingers as our formation started a jumping sequence as well. A bit of time without any news from the other side. I didn't want to hear about more losses...

Thankfully, they were okay. That ship was so badly beaten that the pilot didn't even need to launch the pod, it literally fell out of the breach. I should really ask those medical teams to send a final count of rescued abductees to our dimwit camp authorities, in order to shut them up. Or at least to try. Close to eight thousand. Some of them have no place left to return to, and, on our last stretch to the Cavell, I've sent a short message to Aegis representatives, that, if some of the survivors are lost, have no home and no relatives, our settlement could be their safe haven after the quarantine and inspections. "Location classified, contact AXDF for details, we will send the transports". They responded affirmatively, also saying the equipment was ours to keep. Maybe... Maybe some of those folks would join us later. Or the militia forces. I could train them. I could train them in the best way I possibly can. In the future, maybe. This could be their chance to return the favour to the damned bugs. Maybe saving more people from those monstrosities.

"You can't see any stars from that hell. Today, we were the stars for those we brought back. Thank you."

And my friend was safe... Hope for a longer stretch of time.

A private transmission from Mion pulled me out of my chaotic mess of thoughts while I observed the landing sequence floating nearby. Transports first, then the volunteers. She said we'd better head straight back home after the refuelling, in and out, without disembarking. Our ships were damaged yet more than capable of simple travelling, people wanted to get home, and I understood that perfectly. She also asked me not to leave Marshmallow once I land at the settlement, she wanted to come to me and spend a few hours, together, in silence. My second wing leader agreed to conduct the debriefing on my behalf. Everything else could wait.

I think that was another good idea of hers, once more.
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