Chapter 24

“The family is the first essential cell of human society.”

~Pope John XXIII

What a beautiful sunny day, he thought. He looked down, his bare feet rustling through the grass, the trees swaying in the wind all around him, children playing joyfully on this warm day. He looked up, and the sky was filled with the distant sight of the various Space Stations orbiting the planet. But something was different, not right. A cluster of small objects was in the sky that shouldn’t be. Lights flashing, explosions! It was a battle in space. We were being invaded! Within seconds, the largest of the twelve visible space stations exploded, raining fire in the sky. Then another, and another. Within minutes all twelve stations had fallen from the heavens in a fiery manner. What was this? Panic, chaos. Screams, the children were all crying and screaming for their mothers! An object started to descend into the atmosphere, then another, and another. They were heading straight down, not slowing down but accelerating! What could this be? Impact. Blinding light. Massive energy waves annihilating everything in their path. Impact. Impact. A wave of heat and energy washed over him, his flesh melting from his bones instantly. He was on a ship now, and a Space Station. Another planet. He was everywhere, and everywhere there was screaming crying. Mass annihilation. Military personnel, civilians, women, children, there was no discrimination in this carnage. Everyone and everything was being wiped away from existence. The crying, screams of pain, agony, cries for help, “Save us, save my child’ was all he could hear. More light. More fire. Everywhere, everything. There was no escape. A blue-skinned alien appeared, laughing, smiling, in pure joy as everything else around him burned.

John woke up sweating, panting from his nightmare to the sound of his comm unit buzzing. He sat up, completely naked, and answered the call. “Hello?”

“Who is it? It’s 6 a.m., tell them to go away. I want another round in before work!” said a naked woman lying in John’s bed next to him.

He fluffed her off, got up, and walked to the kitchen. This was not a conversation he wanted to have next to his new friend he met at the bar last night.

“Hey, Char! What’s up?”

“Oh nothing, how’s home treating ya?” Charlene Carr said on the other end of the comm unit.

“Beautiful as ever. Remind me again why we do what we do?” he gave off a sudden laugh, being as playful as he could.

“Because it's glorious!” Charlene chuckled back.

They spoke back and forth for several hours, John completely forgetting he had a friend lying in his bed until she walked past him fully clothed, said some profanities attacking his character, then stormed off. John didn’t care; he had just met her the night before. The woman was just a random person in his life, a dot in the spectrum of the universe to him. She was just a night of fun. The one person he truly cared about was on the other end of his comm unit. She was the only one he wanted to talk to, and to be with. But he couldn’t tell her. Relationships between military personnel were accepted; however, relationships between a superior officer and a subordinate were highly frowned upon. They would surely split them apart if he started dating his best friend, his soul mate.

Several hours had passed, it was now a tad past noon. Charlene had invited John to her house for lunch before the event. They were both nervous for the same reason, yet neither of them could let the other know how they felt. John had hopped on a military transport from Traverse City, Michigan, to Miami, Florida, then a cab to her place. The total trip only took about thirty-five minutes, just long enough for him to get prepared to meet her parents.

Charlene opened the door, expecting to see John. She was right, but she was instantly embarrassed. This was only supposed to be a quick lunch before the convention, so she was standing in front of John in bare feet, shorts, and a tank top that left an inch of her midriff showing. Her athletic body shined in this view. She hadn’t bothered getting adequately dressed for lunch. It was a hot summer Florida day, peaking at 100 degrees. She would sweat all day later in full uniform when she went to the convention. John was, however, in a full Navy dress uniform.

“Why the hell are you in dress?” Charlene snapped quietly at him, feeling ashamed of her clothing choice. John loved it. She never looked so beautiful. He wished her fiery red hair was down instead of up in a ponytail; however, she was still stunningly beautiful either way.

“I had a quick brief from Admiral Collins, and I came straight here from there.” He lied. John had no military meetings in any way that day. He dressed up to impress. Who? He didn’t know.

Charlene’s father snuck up behind her, startling her, eyeing her friend who was at the door.

“Well, who do we have here?” he said, putting his arm out to greet his new guest.

“John, sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” John grabbed the hand and shook with strength.

“Antonio Carr, the pleasure’s all mine … captain,” Antonio noticed the command pip on John’s uniform and gripped his hand as hard as he could. “Shall we?”

“Who’s there!” a young girl yelled out as she ran from a room. “Hi, mister, you look handsome!” She blushed as she walked up to John.

“Well, hello there, I’m John, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“Hehe..he..he.. I’m Bethany, Charlene's cousin.” The young girl gave John a pretty impressive salute.

“I’m sorry, she's been dying to meet you,” said Char, a bit embarrassed.

At thirteen years old, Bethany Carr was awestruck at John. She had always heard her cousin talk about him, but had never been in the presence of such a legend.

"Here! I want you guys to meet my friend!" is all she could muster out of her excited frame, stuttering the words faster than she could think of them. Taking John’s hand in hers, she bolted down the hall towards her room. She had hoped to just be dragging along the unwitting captain, but was dragging her big cousin along as well.

"Whoa," John nervously let out along with a slight chuckle as he shot a concerned look towards Charlene, who only returned with an evil grin. Charlene just laughed as they were dragged down the hallway of the Carr residence. Sheknew the uncomfortable position her adolescent cousin had put her commanding officer in. The Floridian house was not a large one; the hallway only passed by two other bedrooms before coming to what appeared to be the smallest in the house. Hot pink, Hello Kitty posters, and various other pictures of the latest boy band filled the room, overtaking the natural architecture of the home.

"I was never this young!" Charlene spilled out, almost embarrassed to admit she enjoyed more girly flaunting than what was on display in front of her now.

"I bet you were younger!" John teased with a smirk and a poke at her ribs.

"Hey, look here!" Bethany cried out before Charlene had a chance to retort John’s minor flirty comment.

John and Charlene both reluctantly looked at Bethany's pet hamster in a rather elaborate hamster cage in one corner of the room. The little guy was chowing down on half an apple, enjoying his meal while three gigantic humans watched in enjoyment.

"Hey, look! It's Chester Apple-Muncher, Lester Cornhut's not-so-loved cousin!" Charlene blurted out, prompting an uncontrollable explosion of laughter from John and herself. Annoyed by the inside joke between the two, and the apparent insult to her pet, Bethany crossed her arms and pouted, shouting out, "His name's Skippy!"

John and Charlene were silenced. They looked at each other for a long few seconds, trying so desperately to hold in an outburst, but failed. They were exploding in uncontrollable laughter, exponentially more potent than the first round. "Oh, man!” John wiped a tear from his eyes, “there’s going to be one pissed off beer can!"

The laughter grew ten-fold as John collapsed to the floor, unable to control himself. Charlene, unable to show restraint, started tearing up.

"Grrrrraaaaan!!!" Bethany shouted, running out of her room, upset and unable to understand the inside joke of the hamster named Skippy, who should be Lester Cornhut’s cousin.

The tour was cut short when Amelia called everyone to the dinner table to enjoy a quick lunch. Char never had a moment to change from her lack of clothing, completely forgetting the awkward sense John must be having still wearing full dress while everyone else was in regular civilian attire. Antonio never let the uniform out of his sight, examining it bit by bit, getting ever so frustrated at John’s politeness. Watching his daughter be wholly lost in his spell, his anger for the fancy captain intensified.

“So, they just hand out gold wings now?” he said, referring rudely and sarcastically to John’s set of wings. “I remember those used to be earned, not given.”

“Dad!” Charlene yelled out, spitting out a portion of her sandwich.

“Ya! Who did you kill to get them?” Bethany added.

“Beth!” Char shot an evil look to her cousin, face flustering red.

John didn’t know what to think, and just sat there and nodded his head.

“Captain, huh?” Antonio turned to his daughter with a slightly disgusted look on his face. “You invited your commanding officer over?” he shouted.

“Antonio!” Amelia stood up and shouted. “Have some respect for your daughter and her friend!”

“Friend? Ha!” he yelled, laughing.

“You better stop right there before you say something you regret!” Amelia stated, shaking her finger. Bethany just stuck her tongue out at John, still upset over Chester Apple-Muncher.

Standing up and putting on his dress hat John simply replied, “I apologize, it appears I may have overstayed my welcome. Ma’am, I hope you have a nice evening, and sir, have a nice day. And you have a wonderful evening, little one!” John said as he walked out.

“See what you did now? You should be ashamed of yourself!” said Amelia, embarrassed for her family.

“What I did? This rotten military of ours now lets its C.O.s take advantage of their crew so they can now screw whoever they want!” Antonio Carr shouted out.

“Why would someone want to ‘screw’ someone else? Wouldn’t that hurt?” the innocent Bethany asked, only getting a slight laugh from Char.

John stopped for a moment; he heard that remark. He was meant to. He continued walking out the door, angry but choosing not to say anything. Now was not the proper time to defend his, or Char’s, honor.

Charlene came running out, holding back her tears with her military training and pure anger for her father. “John, I’m sorry.”

“Char, I’ll see you at the convention,” is all John said as he hopped in his cab.

1700 Event Opening.

The crowd was huge. Several thousand people had shown up to attend what was being called the biggest unveil in human history. Corporations from across the Federation were representing their brand new products here. General Electric, Olympic Aerospace, General Motors, to name a few of the big names.

John and Charlene walked from booth to booth, never mentioning the events that transpired earlier that day, checking out what ‘new’ civilian technology has to offer. They noticed several technologies that the Federation Navy already had employed. Tech 4 Repulserlifts, Anti Grav Plating, Solid Holographic Systems, but out of all of them, John was curious to know what Char was unveiling. She wouldn't tell him; it was part of the fun, she said to herself. Always teasing each other about it, her discipline was strong. She even refused to give it up after John tackled her and pinned her in a classic choke.

1800 The Big Unveil.

Sitting down in the officers’ row in the center of the seats, John enjoyed the view overlooking the central presentation area. Char was standing by one of the large objects covered in a black tarp, what appeared to be a fighter of some sort. The only reason to request a demonstration from a top Federation pilot was to showcase some advanced civilian aircraft; John was still guessing as to what this was.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer shouted. “I am Augustus Packmeier, Senior V.P. of Research and Development for Olympic Aerospace Industries. I am pleased to introduce to you today a groundbreaking new technological achievement!”

Augustus went on to explain, in great biased detail, why his company was the leader in the industry, then introduced something unexpected. A fully functional neural interface for small spacecraft. John had heard rumors of such a device, and he had expected to see the Navy experiment in it before the civilian population got ahold of it. Still, this time it seemed the private market beat the military to the punch.

The neural interface directly connected the user's mind, via a small contact node on the skull, to the computer system on the craft. The direct link would significantly reduce reaction times since all the pilot had to do was to think what they wanted, no longer waiting for the lag of the human muscles to react to the commands of the brain.

1900 The Test Flight

Charlene Carr, twenty-four-year-old ace pilot, flying a brand-new aircraft for a private company. John would have lost that bet if anyone would have put him to it. Charlene could not believe how the interface made her feel; she had never felt freer and more in control of her life. The aircraft reacted quicker than she could move her arms to imitate moving a flight yoke or stick. John and her father were watching in amazement as she showed off her skills. Looping around, banking from left to right, quicker than any typical pilot ever could. Antonio was proud to see his daughter in her natural environment, showing off her skills to the world, John fell ever more in love with her and hated himself for it. He wished he could be up there with her or away from the event, forcing his feelings deep down inside, where they belong, so they never surface.

“You love her, don’t you?” an unknown man said, just inside John’s hearing.

“What?” Startled, John looked behind him to find a man in his fifties, full civilian clothing, looking oddly familiar.

“Walk with me; I have something that might interest you.”

Antonio glanced down for a moment to watch John and a strange man walk away from the flight. He had no idea what this was about; he didn’t care. He wanted to keep an eye on her commanding officer, feeling the need to protect his daughter from horrible men that would use her or, in this case, her skills. He feared John was using Charlene’s amazing flight skills to advance his career. At least it was a better option than Tiffany’s ex-husband, who beat her until she almost died one night. Antonio would still accept a career shark over a monster like that.

“What is this?” asked John, as he was led to a tree a reasonable distance from the crowd.

“Captain John Henderson,” the elusive man replied.

“Do I know you?”

“No, but I know you.”

“I don’t have much time, so whoever you are, get to the point.” John had a bad vibe from the situation and was not in the mood to play any sort of mind games. He tried to cut right to the chase on who this person was and what he wanted.

“Good, I don’t have much time,” he replied, “Here, you need to examine this data.” The man handed John a portable data drive as he searched the area around him, trying to find some elusive threat.

“What's on it?”

“Proof,” he said, trying to explain as quickly as he could.

“Proof of what?”

“Of the massive lie and cover-up the Federation is doing. I can't tell you much, the first thing you need to know is the Republic is not dormant, they are about to strike. Very soon.”

The Russian Republic has not made a play for the Sol system, or any other Federation territory, for some time. Only minor skirmishes here and there have popped up over the last few years. Many have speculated they were planning a major offensive, while others believe the Republic was finally tired of the fighting.

“And second,” the man continues, “The Federation has had contact with the Sumerians before.”

“What?” John was surprised. No one should know that name yet. the Federation was planning on going public with the news that first contact had finally been established, and a representative from the planet Sumeria had been talking to them. The Federation had not yet gone public, and no one should know that name.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I have my reasons.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Antonio Carr shouted as he interrupted the meeting.

John turned his head, surprised to find Charlene's father interrupting a potentially vital intelligence meeting for the Federation.

“You need to go back,” yelled John, As he turned back to the elusive man, he was nowhere to be seen.

“Son of a bitch!” yelled John, “What the hell is your problem?” John could no longer hold back his anger towards the man. He had just disrupted a potential intelligence op for a threat to the Federation.

“My problem is you, sneaking off making deals out back here, what did he give you? It’s SNAP-five, isn't it?”

SNAP-five seemed to be the current drug of choice for kids and heavy drug users; it was known to cause severe hallucinations.

“Are you out of your mind?” John shouted, not holding back. “I could have you arrested right now!”

The argument was promptly interrupted when three loud bangs were heard in the distance. Thinking the worst, they looked up towards Charlene’s fighter. She was still skipping and hopping about. Off in the distance were five Fireballs descending the sky and heading this way.

“What the hell?” shouted a confused Antonio.

Grabbing his comm unit and activating it, John started calmly giving orders, a tribute to his military training. “Henderson to WarpStar, I need intel on my location, five unknown contacts about 200 klicks out, entering atmo, descending fast.”

Antonio Carr just observed the man in front of him, going from kid to military leader in his eyes in a split second.

“Unknown bogies,” replied someone on the other end. “Classification unknown, meteoroid ruled out, space debris ruled out. They are emitting E.M. signatures, non-natural objects.”

“What are they, John?” Antonio asked

“I’m not sure,” replied John while keeping his eyes on them.

1930. The Attack

It came out of nowhere. She quickly banked left to find herself almost colliding with an unknown aircraft. No, spacecraft! Char had no idea what was out there, and they were not even appearing on her sensors. Within seconds these five unknown crafts started opening fire on the crowd, firing at anything and everyone, without discrimination of who or what was down there, destroying projects from the other companies. Two of the unknown assailants noticed Charlene's aircraft banking wide to come to the assault and broke off, heading right towards her.

Watching in horror, Antonio Carr was powerless to help his daughter. He wanted so desperately to help, but he had to let go. She was in the military, and it was her job to protect him. Banking up, down, left then right, she twisted and turned her aircraft every way possible, dodging energy blast after energy blast, coming within a hair of getting hit every time. She caught the attention of three out of the five, trying to chase her down, firing at every direction they could, missing every time. Charlene was able to predict the trajectory of each bolt and find a way to squeeze between each blast. She was powerless, however. She had no weapons, and if something was not done quickly, no matter how maneuverable the ship, how skilled the pilot, only by chance she would fall from the sky.

John was watching, and this was it. ‘This’ was the damned Republic attack that guy just warned me about.’ His mind was running wild with the thought. He had to do something, Charlene had no defenses.

“Henderson to WarpStar, I need air support at my location immediately.”

~Static~

“What the hell?” John looked at his communicator. The display read ‘Unable to establish connection.’

“What does that mean?” Antonio asked.

“They are jamming communications; no one knows what is happening!”

“You got to do something! That’s my daughter up there!”

He was right, John had to do something, or thousands of innocent lives would be lost. Then, it came to him. Communications may have been jammed, but to jam every signal would take a power source so substantial; it would have been detected on the ground long before it was active. These fighters had to be the one jamming the signals. If a fighter blocked out ten different sets of frequencies, there was only a handful that could be useful.

“Betsy!” shouted John.

“Your girlfriend is going to help?” Antonio asked, hoping to get more than one answer with one word.

John changed a few settings on his comm unit, and pointed it to the sky in a precise location.

“Betsy, do you read?” John asked.

“Loud and clear, captain,” the A.I. Betsy replied.

‘Oh great,’ Antonio thought, ‘another crew member under his spell.’

“Initiate Protocol, Alpha Charley, Seven-Seven Three, Authorization, Pie Theta Henderson Twelve,” John sputtered in his Comm unit.

Antonio couldn’t figure out what John was planning.

“Command accepted, unable to execute, command override in place. WarpStar control lock in place”

“Override Protocol, Theta Nine, Authorization Henderson Two-Two Fifteen.”

“Command Accepted, attempting to hack dock controls.”

Betsy managed to hack the WarpStar computer, overriding the fighter lock in place. She opened the bay doors and flew out without any restraint. Within seconds, she locked position and began her descent as quickly as she could.

Charlene managed to get two of them to follow her over the ocean. At least here, when they fired, there would be no casualties while performing various maneuvers to attempt to trick her two friends. It did not take Charlene long to notice something about her two ‘friends’ that gave her quite the advantage. They were not very skilled, and they seemed to have never flown together as a unit before. Both of them had no idea of the other’s flight style, capabilities, or weaknesses. Both were competing with each other for the kill shot, neither of them skilled enough to predict any of her movements. ‘Sloppy,’ Charlene thought as she maneuvered into position to use this discovery to her advantage.

It did not take long for her to get her first opportunity. She noticed several times the two almost collided with each other from an apparent lack of experience. She took it, with a roll to the left, and a quick roll to the right she commanded a rapid ascent with her mind, and the plane rose quickly to the stars. She couldn’t hold it for long; this aircraft was just that, an aircraft. They were not designed to exit the atmosphere in any way.

Banking from left to right, avoiding any shot fired at her, she made her move. At almost two thousand feet until her altitude ceiling, she began her trap. In a standard maneuver like this, she would set herself up to complete a loop and bank backward. Carr, however, commanded her stick to go down instead of up. One of her pursuers predicted the move. However, the second did not. The one that predicted the move quickly followed suit, banking downwards while the other pilot attempted to bank up to complete a loop. The second Republic pilot was new to the art of aerial combat strategies and had not much training in the simulators, or in real-world environments. He was a farm duster for the rice fields of China; his young brain told him to follow his prey in a backward loop maneuver, not considering the advanced tactics of the Federation pilot would counter and break the maneuver and bank downwards. The young farm duster quickly saw his mistake, as his Russian partner’s fighter promptly came into view right above his cockpit. Both ships collided with each other, sending them down into the ocean in a fiery ball.

The horrorific blasts of energy were ripping through buildings, massacring women and children all around them. Antonio Carr watched in disgust as this nightmare unfolded around him. He had lost sight of his daughter in the sky; he saw her fly towards the Atlantic Ocean, bringing three of the assailants with her. When things couldn’t get any worse, he noticed another fireball coming down from the sky. ‘More of them?’ he thought. ‘This day couldn’t get any worse.’ Then, a bolt of superheated plasma struck about a hundred feet from him, dirt, gravel, and grass rained down from the sky on Antonio and John as they braced to protect themselves from the heated mess.

Grabbing John’s arm, Antonio yelled through this chaos, “Come on, we got to get out of here!”

“Not yet!” John shouted as the fireball got closer to them. Within seconds the fireball slowed to a crawl, shedding the red-orange glow that surrounded it and emerging as a fighter, unlike the attackers. Antonio was confused as it came close, swung around both of them, and came down to land right in front of him.

Confused, Antonio watched as the cockpit opened up with no one to greet them. John hopped in and pressed a few buttons. “Better get back to your family, I’ll take it from here,” he said, inputting a few more commands into the computer. He throttled up the engines and put on his helmet while the cockpit closed and sealed. A second later, the fighter lifted off the ground and shot straight into the air. Antonio Carr could not shake the awe he just witnessed. John had somehow called down a military attack fighter and hopped in. He had joined in the fight, aiming to help protect the citizens in danger and, more importantly, save his daughter.

“Alright, Betsy, let’s prep for atmospheric combat.” John quickly pulled up on his yoke, sending power to the chemical atmosphere thrusters and forcing the fighter to push 6 g’s.

“Weapon systems charged, targeting computer online. Systems are active,” Betsy chimed in calmly, knowing her existence was in direct danger. “Captain, one of the attackers has noticed we have entered the field and has matched our climb.”

“Alright, let's see what he's capable of.” John quickly pushed hard down on the yoke, putting the fighter into a straight nosedive, altimeter now moving fast down from forty six thousand feet.

The X-401 military fighter known as ‘Betsy Ross’ quickly flew past the first Republic attacker, shaking him up on the pass. The Russian pilot promptly recovered and began to follow John as the pair got closer to the surface of the planet. John strategically angled toward the remaining two, who were still actively assaulting the fair, watching his speed begin to approach dangerous velocities.

“Warning, airspeed too fast. Slow down.” The flight computer that John had neglected to disable so Betsy could have full control chirped in John's ear.

“Sir, I recommend slowing.”

“Not yet, get a lock on those two and arm the missiles.”

“Approaching fifteen kilometers to targets, missile lock established.”

John did not need to respond, he quickly fired two birds and yanked on the yoke, pitching up and slightly to the left, attempting to maneuver around the area.

Energy weapons had played a dominant role in military weaponry in the current period, being preferable to the older kinetic-style weapon systems. In aerial and sea combat, however, kinetic weapons still played a role that energy weapons could not. When the pilot wanted to shoot a target on the move, and not chance hitting any collateral objects, if the target had maneuvered out of the way, an energy shot could not adjust its course. A missile could. John had banked on the idea that once he launched his two birds, the Republic pilots would notice a clear lock on them and attempt to outmaneuver the missiles, evading their way outside of the danger zone for the civilians. Even if John did not score any hits, he still succeeded in luring them away from the area.

John did not score any hits; both pilots quickly evaded the missiles and launched countermeasures, detonating the weapons safely and causing no harm to any party. This had put a big target on John as he attempted to lure them towards the ocean, where he could easily engage battle at zero risk to any civilian population. John’s plan worked like a charm.

“Warning!!” Asshole Steve shouted in John’s ears. “Missile lock, evade, evade, evade, evade.”

“Sir—”

“I know, Betsy, shut up, I'm working.” John rolled and dove, quickly avoiding two missiles from hitting his small ship.

“Sir—”

“Betsy!! I know!!” John shouted while pulling hard on the yoke, banking hard to the right, avoiding laser blast after blast unsuccessfully.

“Sir, I have another incoming contact.”

‘Shit,’ John thought as he continued to fail to dodge the thousands of plasma blasts from the three fighters aggressively pursuing him, unable to make hard maneuvers in the atmosphere of a planet.

“Alpha one, this is Alpha two. Need a hand?” a familiar voice chirped over the communication systems. It was Char. John’s stomach sank. She was piloting a defenseless aircraft: no weapons, no shielding, and no armor plating. John’s shields were holding, but wouldn’t take much beating for long. She would be unable to withstand this abuse.

“Negative, Alpha Two, proceed to containment zone, and secure,” John gave the order over the comm.

“With all due respect, John, no.”

“Excuse me, ensign?”

“No uniform, off duty. No orders. Now, let's get these guys to swim with the fishes!”

Char’s disobedience gave John mixed emotions. Instantly anger flooded him, but quickly subsided as he realized she was right. They both were off duty at the time, and she did not have to follow his orders. Then it hit him, she was going to attempt to save John at all costs, and he could not allow her to put herself in that kind of danger with absolutely no protection or a way to defend herself. At most, all she could do was provide bait.

“Negative, Alpha Two,” John repeated. “Proceed to containment zone.” John did the only thing he knew would put her out of danger, climb.

“Betsy, activate the sublights.”

The fighter powered down its atmospheric chemical thrusters and engaged the small fusion generator, pumping trillions of ions out of its two feeble engines, providing enough thrust to rocket the ship upwards to exit the atmosphere. Two of the fighters followed suit, matching John’s climb to engage without the confines of an atmosphere while the other banked left and downward to engage Charlene.

“Shit, Alpha Two, you have a bogie on your pursuit.”

“Alpha One, aye, will handle, take care of your friends,” static came over the comms as the two drifted outside of comm range from the jamming. John’s view quickly turned from a blue haze to black. The two Republic pilots were no match for John once he reached space—the agile 401 fighter took no time in maneuvering behind the two and eliminating them with a few blasts from the plasma cannons. The pilots did not have time to process the black sky as their craft melted from the insane temperatures of the plasma bolts.

“Missile lock. Evade evade evade evade,” Asshole Steve shouted in Char’s ears as her neural link began to get hot on her head from excessive use. Banking left to right, up and down, avoiding shot after shot from the plasma cannon of the Republic fighter, Char quickly saw her target. A small island off the coast of Cuba. A quick, evasive flyover of the island revealed no form of obvious life inhabited it, and Charlene chose this as her target.

“Too close, evade evade.” Asshole Steve never seemed to shut up as Char’s heart beat faster and faster by the second, first-degree burns started forming on her scalp from the connections of the neural links inability to safely process Char’s commands at the speed she needed them. She narrowly avoided a missile as she wished she could dump E.M. jammers from the belly of her aircraft, but she had none on this civilian flying deathtrap. Three hard banks later, she had an idea, and she executed it without thought. She knew where the one last assailant was, quickly following her tail dumping ungodly amounts of wattage and superheated plasma in the atmosphere in an attempt to strike down its target. Char immediately targeted her sensors on the missile, and the rocket alone. She was flooding it with electromagnetic pings with increasing frequency and intensity. Hoping to overcome the missile's sensors, she banked one last time, as the flying death shaft flew past her and collided with the ocean.

Char saw her opportunity. This would be it, and she would never get another one. Time to execute the most daring and bold plan she ever had. Banking towards the assailant, she began to rush towards him at full power, playing a game of aerial chicken, dodging and avoiding thousands of bolts of plasma hurled towards her while her neural link began to melt the flesh off her skull. The moment she passed the Russian, she banked hard towards the sky. The Russian was no fool; following her, he saw his opportunity to end his target finally. This would be it, and she could not exit the atmosphere. The craft was not designed for it, while his was. When she shot downwards towards the surface, he began to panic. Following suit, both fighters began barreling towards the tiny island just off the coast of Cuba, bolts of superheated plasma thrown from the pursuer to the pursuee. Charlene dodged every blast sent her way.

“Too low. Pull up!! Pull up!” Asshole Steve was at it again. Ignoring him, Char attempted to push the throttle as hard as she could, trying to gain more speed out of the already maxed-out aircraft, avoiding the smell of burnt hair and flesh as she continued to prevent one blast of plasma after the other.

“Too low, terrain. Pull up! Too low, terrain. Pull up!” Asshole Steve finally gave her the words she was looking for, a warning sound as she approached the three thousand feet warning. She was in a dangerous position. Rocketing at terminal velocity towards the Earth, she had very little time to act and recover. Using all her might, she sent the command to the neural link to give the aircraft everything it had to pull up.

“Arrrrrrrrgggghhhh!” Char screamed in pain as fear ripped through her bones, and her flesh and hair caught fire from the neural link. The Republic fighter was not so lucky. Unable to compensate in time, the plane barreled right into the island, creating a fireball and shockwave as the fusion engines exploded. Unfortunately for Charlene, she was focusing everything on doing the climb to pull her out of her nosedive. She was unable to maneuver, and a plasma bolt scored a direct hit on her fuselage, right at her port wing assembly.

“Eject! Eject! Eject!” Asshole Steve screamed as Char was quickly put into a port side spin, the wing ripping off from the metal hosing hold after being melted from the hull. Barreling at Mach 5, Char knew she couldn’t simply escape. She had to take whatever was coming for her. Even if she were going at a much slower speed, the constant spinning would throw her seat straight into the ocean, spelling a quick death for the young pilot.

She traveled 120 miles spinning all in the span of a few seconds before impacting with the ocean a few miles outside of Key West. Luckily, the cockpit was designed from an alloy of metals found in the asteroid belt, making it one of the sturdiest planes in the air, which is the only reason Charlene survived the impact. The rest of the aircraft crumpled like a can, protecting the pilot but knocking her unconscious from the force. Several tourists visiting the Florida Keys saw the impact and quickly contacted the Coast Guard. What the onlookers didn’t know, it was a useless gesture, as John had already made his descent back into the atmosphere and witnessed the entire event. Panicking, he quickly maneuvered Betsy over the wreck, threw the 401 in hover mode and opened the cockpit, and jumped into the water to swim over to the burning wreckage to save his friend. Coast Guard rescue craft quickly swarmed the area as John pulled a limp Charlene Carr from the cockpit, her glasses broken, most of her hair missing, and with third-degree burns all over her scalp. Tears formed in his eyes as he held her, waiting for the EMT’s to lower their craft to pick her up. She was alive, but barely, opening her eyes for a quick second to notice a tearful John holding her and screaming for help to get there faster. All she could muster was, “Did we do it? Are the civilians safe?” before she slipped into a coma. Olympic Aerospace gained a lot of respect from John after this for building the sturdiest cockpit known.

The Carr family sat in horror as they watched the news feed tell the story of the Federation military fighter hovering over a crash site, a man jumping from the fighter into the waters to save the crash victim. The news had no idea who they were, but the Carr family knew. They watched as John jumped into the burning wreckage and pulled a near-lifeless Charlene Carr from the wreckage and helped put her into the ambulance. She was their daughter, sister, aunt. He was a stranger to them, a man who, at one point, was a degenerate, now a hero. Antonio Carr couldn’t be angry at any of them at this moment. John saved his daughter, and his daughter saved hundreds of lives that day at the risk of her own. As they sat crying, Antonio never felt more proud in his life as he watched his daughter fight for hers.