Lieutenant Eden's Thunderbird rocked backward for a second as an explosion burst in front of her. She propelled her bird over two thousand miles per hour through the fiery cloud, flying through yet another one of her kills. She pulled to the right on her control stick, surprised to see another enemy in her sights. Pulling the trigger, she hit her mark and flew through the glittery entrails of a once fully intact enemy fighter. Behind her, now more than a hundred miles away, was her home, Brigantia.
Sweat seeped through her hair, wetting the soft inside lining of her striated helmet. Outside, blasts coming from friend and foe dotted space. Everything was chaos. Shouts, incoherent dialogue, with screams carried through her com link in a continuous stream. It all filled her mind, combining into one monotonous outcry—reminders of the deceased, the exploded, the dead.
Her Thunderbirds were outnumbered four to one, and the commanders who had led them into battle had been the first to fall, leaving her as the last one in charge.
Checking her HDC, she spotted Brigantia's Alpha Group, the combination of three teams, totaling 52 Thunderbirds. She saw Brigantia's Delta and Gamma group still holding their own, but they had only 26 Thunderbirds left.
Taranis' groups were fairing much better, totaling 98 fighters in all. They had always been more trained than all of the other starship fighters, especially Brigantia which was famed more for its Brigantia Guard—the soldiers of her starship. The pilots of Taranis were the usual winners during starfighter war games held around planet Lumus each year.
Lumus. Eden shook her head. For a moment she had lost her concentration thinking about what was lost and what she may never see again.
But, she quickly wiped her sweaty palm on her flight suit and spun out of the way of an oncoming attacker, barely missing its heavy laser fire that zoomed just past her. Her heart beat picked up and she blinked several times. That was a close one and she knew she had to come up with a plan of action. They were losing this battle, and losing big.
Torquing her Thunderbird to the right, she disengaged from the fight, noting zero enemy fighters on her six.
She turned off the com link. “Power down.” Instantly, her Thunderbird powered off. Any heat or electrical signatures coming off of her bird would be invisible to all sensors, buying her some much needed time to devise an attack plan. In a sense, she was invisible.
As her Thunderbird floated in space, she observed the occurring devastation. Thunderbirds and enemy fighters alike were ballooning into fire. Ion cannons and lasers traced the black space before her, missing and hitting targets. And, two large red pyramids, probably similar to starships, were coming closer and closer to the fight.
She tapped her forehead between the eyes—a strategy she used for tests and for staying focused. It also helped her to think outside of the box and it usually worked. “Think, think,” she muttered, continuing to tap.
The enemy fighters were precise, rarely making mistakes. They worked as a team. But what was baffling was that for such elite attackers, these enemies didn't seem to know what to do when you got behind them. They usually became sitting targets, as if they had never experienced being chased or shot at. There was the random enemy that could skillfully evade an attack, but most of them were very poor at it. The only problem was actually getting behind them.
“That's it!” No, she shook her head. It couldn't be that simple. Watching more closely as the battle took place, she watched a Thunderbird being chased by an attacker. Another Thunderbird came in and around that enemy, flying right behind it. In seconds, the enemy was a fiery mess, and had made no attempt at evasive action while being followed from behind.
It couldn't be that easy. They don't know what to do when being chased, or, they don't understand the element of being surprised. They lock up and allow death to come? Why?
It didn't matter. She shrugged, puffing out her bottom lip as she tapped her finger on the HDC in front of her, thinking, thinking, thinking.
She sighed. She had to do it.
“Open com link.” She swiped her hand across her mouth, wiping salty sweat from her lips. “Alpha group, teams one, two, and three, we change our plan of action.” She found an empty sector on a map on her HDC. It was perfect for her idea. “Move to zero-one-six, I repeat, zero-one-six. Now!”
She powered on her Thunderbird, pressing it forward and flying to the coordinates. She watched as her starfighters immediately disengaged, took evasive maneuvers and were heading for the rendezvous point.
“Team One and Team Two, form a flock. Team three, create an arrow. When we meet at the specified coordinates, you better bet you'll have a hundred fighters on your asses.” She looked at her HDC. She would get to zero-one-six in less than a minute, slightly before the rest of the teams. “Team One, when I give the order to break left, I will say 'one'. Confirm order!”
After she heard their confirmation, she continued, “Team Two, when I give the order to break right, I will say 'two'. Confirm!”
Again, several voices gave their confirmation. “Team Three, you are the closest group to the coordinates. Continue arrow formation, and swing around behind me. I'll be at the coordinates before you. When you are there, turn off your Thunderbirds and float. We’ll be invisible to their sensors. When the enemy flies by us, we’ll re-engage thrusters, and blast them to dust! Do you confirm?”
Hearing their answers, and knowing they'd do what she’d asked, she reached zero-one-six quicker than she thought, then turned around and shut down her Thunderbird. “Team Three, get behind me. The rest, don't mind us and continue to sector.” She looked at her HDC and saw hundreds of enemy fighters hot on the tails of her starfighters. She flew for several seconds, watching Team Three flying directly at her. When they reached her, they did as asked and swung around behind her and shut down their birds.
So far, so good.
Up ahead, Team One and Team Two flew in flock formation, heading straight toward her, but more importantly, hiding her and Team Three from enemy view. She floated, her starfighter switched off–along with the rest of Team Three, and waited, placing her finger on the trigger. She closed her eyes, her mind spinning. She hoped this worked. If it didn’t, they’d be a pack of floating craft just waiting to be blasted and this could be the last time she’d ever have a thought…the last time her heart would ever beat. Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath, and then glanced at her HDC. It estimated that Team One and Team Two would arrive in less than twenty seconds.
She clenched her teeth. She had to get this right. She was setting up an ambush and the surprise had to be perfect. If she was correct, this would put the enemies in disarray. If she was wrong, she'd be another fiery dust cloud in space. She figured that since chasing the enemy made them vulnerable, and once they flew past, she’d switch on the Thunderbird, along with the rest of Team Three, sneak up on the enemy from behind and blast them to smithereens!
The enemies, she thought. Who the hell are they? It didn't matter. What she was attempting was a gamble, but she was fresh out of options, other than watching her friends all die trying to save what was left of their fleet. This, at least, gave them a chance to gain the upper hand in the battle.
Ten seconds displayed on her HDC. Hold tight, everyone. Trust me on this.
An explosion of fire erupted at the back of Team One's flock formation. One of her friends, perhaps someone she had trained, now gone.
Four seconds.
“One!” she shouted. “Two!”
Team one broke left and team two broke right, suddenly parting, and she could see that the enemy craft hadn’t detected her or Team Three at all. They simply continued to chase their targets, Teams One and Two.
“Team Three, fire at will!”
She switched on her Thunderbird and slammed her starfighter to full throttle, quickly catching up to the enemy fighters. When they came into weapons lock, she pulled the trigger. Blue ion flashes blasted from her cannons, shooting ion phasers through the black of space, hitting and bursting ap
art several of the attackers. She saw more ion tracers from her team fly by her, hitting a myriad of enemy craft. Explosions and flames filled space in front of her, lighting her cockpit up with yellow and red colors, mirroring the outside destruction.
And, to her amazement, the enemies weren't even fazed. They continued their pursuit, ignoring the fact they’d lost twenty or so of their own craft in a matter of seconds. It was as if they didn't know, or, didn't care about what had just occurred. The enemies were not leaving their targets, and not eluding the ion blasts.
This didn't make sense, but she had to continue with her strategy, which at the moment was clear-cut. “Follow the enemy and engage.”
Team Three split. Some followed her and pursued the enemy chasing Team two, others went after those chasing Team one.
Eden settled behind an enemy craft and pulled the trigger, destroying yet another attacker.
A crackle came over her com link. “Eden, move your team out of the way!”
Admiral Byrd? Taking her eyes off another enemy craft she was about to blast, she spotted Brigantia heading right toward her formation. “All Teams, 90 degrees out of here!” She glanced at her HDC screen. “Coordinate zero-one-nine.”
As she turned her craft, swinging around to about 90 degrees and heading toward the new coordinates, she spotted the