Nova Wars

It doesn't matter who you were or what you've done. What you've said or where you've been.

The only thing that matters is what you do in that one single second.

That one second. Where everything comes down to it*.*

Two or three times. That's all. That's all you get in life to prove who you really are.

Will you rise above? Or will you die on your knees? - Unknown, Terra, Age of Paranoia

The dropship's engines screamed as it clawed for air, making a least time course for the Nell, which was still holding position, still lashing out at the enemy ships with missile pods, the C++ Cannon, and the other esoteric weaponry the little craft possessed.

His mother and sisters were sobbing, still wrapped in the rescue cloaks, the hoods still pulled up, the littles around their legs.

The Captain was standing off to the side, by the rear hatch, putting the SMG on the magtac on his belt. Netmwit noticed that the toothed chain entered the guard housing at a wide point in the blade, where the face of a chubby infant Terran with wide eyes, a slightly open mouth, and tousled hair was surrounded by a laurel. The Captain's armor had claw marks, pockmarks from weapons, and tooth marks on it, but seemed unbreached to Netmwit's untrained eyes.

One of the robot Marines was bent down, saying soothing words in a decidedly non-mechanical voice to the little clustered around his baby sister's legs. It had pockmarks on its chest, part of its face had melted and ran, giving it a strange scarred/stroke victim appearance.

Its head also looked like a Terran skull, with a red stripe brushed across the eyes and another from between the eyes, down the face, to end at the chin.

Hetmwit saw that his baby sister still had her datalink with her. He reached out and grabbed it, his sister blinking at how fast he moved. He looked at, tapped two icons, and scrolled till he found the number. He hit the connect icon and waited.

It picked up on the second ring.

The Captain looked at him, the skull visage of the helmet concealing the Captain's thoughts.

"Hello?" the voice asked.

"Dad! Dad, it's Hetmwit!" he said into the communicator, yelling to be heard over the bursts of static and the warbling tone in the background.

"Who? Het... Hetmwit! Son! Where are you?" his father managed to remember who he was.

"I'm on a dropship," Hetmwit said. "Where are you?" he looked at the Captain. "We're coming to get you!"

"Get your mother!" his father shouted back. "I'm in the shelter at the plant. They say it's a drill."

"I've got mom, Revvie, Tylee, and Estlee, along with the littles!' Hetmwit said. He had to repeat it when a burst of static interrupted him.

The Captain put his fingers to his helmet and Hetwmit felt the dropship bank hard and drop altitude.

One of the Marines hit the stud and the side doors pulled back. Both Marines deployed the door guns, checking the action.

Hetmwit saw the roofs of the buildings flash by as the dropship hurtled down to nap of earth, the engines screaming and the battlescreen crackling on the dust and airborne debris.

"What? I can't hear you! Get your mother, get your sisters, get the littles!" his father said.

"Dad, dad! I've only got a minute or two. It's bad. Real bad!" Hetmwit yelled over the howling of the wind and the engines. "It's not a drill!"

One of the Marines cut loose with a burst from the heavy 20mm door mounted machinegun. Something exploded and debris hit the battlescreen.

"Leave me!" his father said, his voice urgent. "Get them out!"

"Dad, I... I..." Hetmwit said.

The Captain was just staring at him, unmoving.

Both door gunners started firing. Hetmwit could see out the doors that they were low enough that the banners and signs above the ground level windows of stores were visible out the doors from his angle. There was a clanking noise against the bottom of the dropship and Hetmwit heard the chatter of flares being released.

"Shut up! Listen to me! You're the one who saved the family. I always forgot about you, but you didn't forget about your mother and sisters!" his father yelled. There was an explosion outside that rocked the dropship, but it leveled out before the battlescreen did much more than shred a hundred meters of the building it had tilted toward.

"I'm coming for you!" Hetmwit shouted into the datalink.

"Get them out!" his father yelled.

"Dad..." Hetmwit started to say.

"You can't save me, boy! Nobody can save me! Get your mother and sis

ATOMIC ATOMIC ATOMIC scrolled across the top of his vision in lurid red letters. The dropship's engines howled as the pilot suddenly stood the dropship on its tail, braking and scrabbling for altitude at the same time.

One of the littles slipped out of the half-connected harness. The nearest Marine lunched forward, grabbing the little in skeletal hands, bringing her close to his chest as his knees came up and put his elbows out. He bounced off the bulkhead, stuck a foot out and got it tangled in the cargo net, slamming against the bulkhead.

The little was just staring with wide eyes at the skull of the robot who cradled it close.

There was a white flash. Sparks shot from consoles, arced off the surfaces, danced along long bars and cables.

Sparks shot from the datalink as it went dead in his hand.

The afterburners kicked on and Hetmwit stumbled slightly before Captain Decken's hand stopped him.

The robots were all kneeling down in front of his family, holding the rescue cloaks, silvery again instead of a matte dusty black that was the visual equivalent of trying to squeeze jello in your fist, closed over the Pagrik inside.

NUKE NUKE NUKE flashed in his vision. WARNING 20+ Mt WARNING

Another white flash.

The engines were screaming, the afterburners shrieking as they were pushed to the limit. The whole dropship was shaking, vibrating hard enough that Hetmwit was starting to see double.

Both door gunners reached out and slapped the buttons next to the door.

"Dad..." Hetmwit said, staring at the datalink.

The first shockwave hit the dropship and the battlescreen projectors roared and crackled like ice-water being poured on a red hot griddle. They were visible to the naked eye clearly, a bright red grid of interlocked hexagons.

The doors slammed shut, driven by pneumatic pistons rather than electric motors, just before the debris cloud hit.

The dropship seemed to fall for a moment, a split second of pseudo-zero-G. The robot against the bulkhead that was cradling a little kicked off, spinning in midair even as the dropship tilted.

The engines were out.

The gravity came back as the dropship fell. The robot landed in front of the netting that made up the seat. Its hands and arms flashed as it quickly put the little in the harness, then it leaned over the little, protecting it with its body.

The engines coughed and fired as the dropship sucked air like a drowning man just breaking the surface. The engines roared, then shrieked as the pilot kicking in the afterburners, looping and turning, but still climbing.

35Km sped by.

There was another hard impact to the dropship. The engines choked, gagged, and the pilot cut them out before one sucked in too much dust and the thrust went imbalanced.

Some of the littles were screaming, their mouths open, soundless over the all consuming roar of the explosion.

The dropship was falling again.

35Km went by the other way as the dropship tilted and its nose lifted even further as the pilot fought with it.

The engines kicked on, coughing and choking, but still coming to life. The dropship leveled out, leaped forward.

The pilot kicked the afterburners.

35Km went by again.

ATOMIC ATOMIC ATOMIC

flashed by

ATOMIC ATOMIC ATOMIC

went by again

NUKE NUKE NUKE 20+ Mt WARNING scrolled by.

The afterburners howled and the airframe started to shake as the pilot did everything but get out and push.

"Come on, baby, hold together," the Captain growled softly.

There was a sudden silence.

Hetmwit opened his mouth to ask what was going to happen when the grav engines kicked on with a warbling atonal shrieking. The whole dropship shuddered and vibrated, again making Hetmwit see double as his eyeballs were shivered in the sockets.

The littles were silent, eyes wide, staring into the faces of the robots that helped hold them secure, their eyes only inches from the burning red eyes set into the black Terran skulls.

"You are being rescued," one said. "It is okay be afraid."

The little blinked and nodded.

85Km went by.

Hetmwit stood up, moving forward to his mother. The grav engines were still howling, pushed to the max. The dropship shuddered again, heeled onto its side, then leveled out, but Hetmwit kept his balance.

Everything went silent, just the low steady growl of the grav-engines, as he knelt down in front of his mother.

She was huddled inside the rescue cloak, her face hidden by the hood.

"I'm sorry, momma. I was going to try, I really was," he said.

She looked up, her eyes full of tears. "I believe you, Hemmie," she said softly. She leaned forward and put her arms around him, pulling him close. "You came for us."

He hugged her gently, the armor's dogbrain VI realizing the context and cutting the assisted strength.

"I tried. I really did," Hetmwit started weeping.

"Oh, Hemmie," his mother sobbed.

The Captain just watched, the black macroplas eyes of his helmet unreadable.

-----

The air smelled like ozone, burnt molycircs, scorched warsteel, hot lubricant, and carbonized metals as Hetmwit made sure his niece was sedated and strapped down. He looked up at the robot Marine who had grabbed her out of midair and nodded.

"Thanks," he said.

"You're welcome, sir," the robot answered.

Hetmwit stood up and quietly left the room. The lights dimmed slightly and there was a clonking sound that seemed to come from outside the hull. He hurried down the primary access corridor and to the bridge.

Captain Decken stood by the holotank, his helmet off, staring at the data.

"Order Corvette-Four to support that Concordiant battlewagon formation," Decken stated.

"Aye aye, sir," Mister Hefty said. He looked up. "Corvette-One reports cooldown and reload successful, they're ready to reengage."

"Order them back in," Decken looked up. "My condolences on your father," he said, then looked back at the holotank. "Order Corvette-Five to run another sweep with its drones. We'll see if it comes in at the same distance and latitude as last time," he said.

"Aye aye, sir," Mister Hefty answered, tapping rapidly on the keyboard in front of him.

Hetmwit looked at the holotank. He had taken the correspondence course about naval fleet tactics during the two weeks to the capital system. Unlike the last system wide action, this time he understood all the icons, the dotted lines, the dashed lines, that made the holotank's contents look so complicated.

"We're winning," the Captain said. He looked over at a new robot, the only one with the short T head. "Mister Chatty, tell Grand High Admiral Sherkus that Bogey-Ninety-Two is shifting to try to flank his Cruiser Division-Seventeen."

"Aye aye, sir," the robot stated.

"Admiral Sherkus? He's in charge of the entire Concordiant Navy," Hetmwit said. He gave a chuckle. "His name was on my last set of orders that ended me up here."

"The Malevolent Universe smiles on him then," Decken said. "A simple, unnoticed action that changed the fate of his entire nation."

It suddenly seemed less funny to Hetmwit.

"STATUS CHANGE!" Mister Goofy called out.

Hetmwit and Decken both looked at the robot, who had white stripes on his face where the Marines had red.

"Enemy is helljumping out," Mister Goofy said.

"Get ready," Decken growled. He looked over at Mister Fumbles. "Load the C++ cannon and the ammo locker with boosted rounds."

"Aye aye, sir," Mister Fumbles stated.

Hetmwit found himself leaning forward.

"NEW CONTACT!" Mister Goofy called out. "Same signature as Bogey-37 in the last system," he checked his board again. "Bogey is accelerating toward the stellar mass."

Decken checked the status.

135%.

Good enough to prevent it from getting spiked, but he had hoped to get 160% or more for full stabilization.

"Corvette-Five reporting target lock," Mister Hefty said.

"You may fire when ready, Mister Fumbles," Decken said softly.

"Last known units have helljumped out," Mister Goofy stated.

"GUNS FREE! MAIN GUN FIRING!" Mister Fumbles yelled out.

Hetmwit could feel the ship shudder, like it was being punched backwards, even as ghostly fingers plucked at his bone marrow.

"Direct hits," Mister Goofy said. There was a second pause. "Targets are breaking up."

"Magazine reloaded. Heat at 72%, slush at 54% and rising," Mister Hefty said.

"GUNS FREE! MAIN GUN FIRING!" Mister Fumbles called out.

Again, the ship shuddered.

"Direct hits. Targets breaking up," Mister Goofy stated.

"Scan for any launches," Decken ordered.

Hetmwit felt tension fill him for long moments.

"No launches detected," Mister Hefty said.

"Captain, the Admiral is demanding to speak with you. His ships are maneuvering for firing angles," Mister Goofy stated.

Hetmwit knew what was going to happen next.

"Order all flotilla elements to engage full stealth and move to Rally Point Ticonderoga," Decken said. "Mister Smiley, you have your course and heading."

"Aye aye, sir," Mister Smiley said.

The ship turned, the effect palpable despite the inertial compensator.

Hetmwit was used to it now.

Everything tunneled down to a pinprick on the horizon.

He was violently pulled toward it.

The long moment that only took a split second was suddenly over.

The flotilla sat out by the Oort Cloud.

Hetmwit stood silently as the Corvettes reported in.

They were all battered, beaten upon, and scarred.

Captain Decken stared at the holotank for a long moment, then looked up at Hetmwit.

He didn't pull those burning amber eyes from Hetmwit's as he snapped out his order.

"Make for Confederate Space, least time," he said.

"Aye aye, Captain," Mister Smiley responded.

There was the queasiness inducing slide that Hetmwit knew was the jump to hyperspace.

"We have to warn the Confederacy," Hetmwit stated.

Captain Decken just nodded.