The Battle for Eden. Mark E. Burgess
as it is.”
Sarah grinned and nodded, then allowed herself to shift focus away from this man for a moment and take in his ship. Up close it was amazing to see. Damaged, yes, maybe critically, but a thing of beauty it was nonetheless. Sleek lines, built for speed and handling, not a wasted curve anywhere. The twin engine ports to the rear were disproportionately large, suggesting a high power-to-weight ratio. Her practiced eye recognized a highly engineered machine, even though she’d never flown so much as a commuter shuttle.
“So, this is your ship?” she said, and felt stupid the moment the words left her lips. Like, who else’s ship would it be? Cripes, what was wrong with her? Just take a breath and calm down!
Thankfully the pilot didn’t miss a beat. He just nodded and waved his hand at the downed vessel, smiling ruefully. “Yeah, that’s my fighter, or what’s left of her. Bloody shame, too. She was a sweet ride, the best SpaceForce has come up with. It’ll take a lot of human-hours and resources to replace her.”
“What happened?” Sarah asked, walking around the rear of the ship to view the damage. The hole blown out of the stern was large enough to easily crawl into. A light breeze blew whiffs of smoke across her from the still-smoldering hull and she coughed as it tickled her throat. She could hear the pop and creak of hot metal beginning to cool. Whatever had done this must have been powerful. As small as the craft was, she had imagined a thin shell and more space inside, but the open wound revealed a hull thickness that astounded her. It had to be at least as deep as the length of her forearm. That didn’t leave much interior room. Yet it was obvious that fuel, engines, weapons, life support, and a passenger all somehow fit into this thing. Her admiration for the minds that had engineered it went up another notch.
“What happened?” Simon echoed her question. “I’ll tell you what happened, little miss. I got my butt kicked by a Knacker, that’s what. Well, the whole fleet did, I fear. At least that’s how it looked last I saw. Radio’s dead, so I’ve got no way of knowing, really.”
“The damage looks pretty bad,” Sarah commented as she viewed the fighter from yet another angle. The hull was scored and smudged with black along the leading edges and on the visible portions of its undercarriage. But that might have been from the heat of reentry.
“It’s worse than it looks,” Simon said, shaking his head as he trailed her. “The energy hit took out my weapons systems and main engine. I was dead in space up there.”
“And you landed this thing?!” Sarah asked in astonishment, her eyes wide. This guy must be a damn good pilot.
Simon chuckled again. God, it felt good to laugh after so long. “Well, I sort of glided it in, actually. And most of the credit goes to the navicomputer, anyway. I just handled the final approach and touchdown, such as it was.”
“Wow. Just...wow.” Sarah was at a loss for words, and that wasn’t common for her. She stretched to peek into the open cockpit, a feat achievable if she stood on the wall of soil the fighter had kicked up. The space occupied by the pilot was even more cramped than she had imagined. The black flight chair and harness took up most of the cockpit, and instrument panels occupied much of the rest. There was little more than elbowroom laterally. To be trapped in there for countless hours, maybe days, and in a sealed environment suit, under combat conditions...she felt claustrophobic just considering it. It would take a highly disciplined mind to do what this man did. Finally she shook out of her reverie. Turning to Simon, she inquired, “Well, what now? What do we do with your ship?”
Simon frowned and answered, “Now we leave the ship and get to shelter. She’s junk at this point, and won’t be easy to move. I don’t know what’s happening up there in space, but I’ve got a feeling we’ll have company before long. Have you heard any news on the planetary network?”
She shook her head. “Just patchy reports, nothing solid. But if the battle just happened, then news of the outcome might not have reached the surface yet.”
He nodded, one hand scratching his chin stubble. “The Crabs will track my vessel to its resting spot, most likely. If they do, then they will send a scout down at the very least. Let’s not be around when they get here.” So saying, he leaned into the ship’s cockpit and rummaged behind the flight seat. When he straightened, he held a SpaceForce issue sidearm, a slightly more powerful version of the weapon Sarah carried, though against Knackers, it had been mediocre at best. A well-placed shot might disable one, but in a real fight against numbers it didn’t pack a lot of punch. Alpha squadron had jokingly dubbed it the “suicide gun,” meaning that its best use might simply be to prevent oneself from being taken alive.
Along with the weapon, and a couple of spare charge packs for the gun, he packed a small pouch of high energy pilot rations. That, along with his know-how, was all he could contribute at this point. He tossed his helmet into the cockpit, and gently pried the photo of his family from the instrument panel. Then he slammed the canopy closed, and gestured for Sarah to lead the way.
Simon followed the girl to her shuttle, not quite able to ignore the sway of her slender hips as she walked in front of him. It had been too long since he had been around civilian women, or thought of females as more than comrades-in-arms. That part of his life had ended, and he had deliberately tucked it away, dead and buried. He intended to keep it that way.
* * * *
The ride back to Sarah’s home took under an hour, even at a less urgent pace than her outbound trip. While the young woman piloted the floater, Simon gazed around with interest at the landscape of this new planet. The dense forest in the hollow was primeval looking, and he imagined Old Earth might once have resembled this. When they exited the woods and flew over the savanna beyond, he took note of the wide-reaching lands, dotted with sparse trees and subdivided here and there by neat stone fences. But the fields appeared mostly undeveloped, containing neither crops nor livestock, except for a distant herd of unidentifiable animals in the far distance.
Sarah was flushed with excitement as she neared home. The two-story house stood out clearly across the flats, framed by several large trees in front. As the floater glided high over the garden crops in its final approach, she saw from their vantage that both her father’s vehicle and that of Aunt Katie were parked in the carport. Her family had already returned.
Simon took in the wood and stone building with a trained military eye. Solid construction, small windows on the ground level, and heavy shutters on both stories that looked to be made of metal or plastalloy. Its large yard was surrounded by a stone wall taller than the height of a man, with a sturdy metal gate where the driveway ran through. Not a castle, but potentially defensible.
Sarah burst through the front door with Simon in tow, calling, “Momma! Papa! Come quick! We have a guest!”
A comely brunette woman in her mid-forties came bustling through a doorway to their right, and stopped short in surprise when she saw the strange man in military garb standing in her foyer. “Why, Sarah, who is this?” she blurted out, and then looked apologetically at Simon and added, “No offense, young man, but we don’t get many visitors out here, and never someone from the Service. You are in the Service, yes?”
“Yes, ma’am, that is correct. Major Simon Roy, SpaceForce,” Simon replied, his hands clasped behind his back in the military at-ease position.
“Ah, I knew it!” The woman looked quite pleased with herself. “My husband was in the armed forces before he retired, strictly planetside, but we met some of the Spacer folk now and then. I recognized the lightning bolt emblem on your suit, there.” Then her expression abruptly turned fretful. “But why are you here? Are we being invaded? We’ve heard things, worrisome things. What’s going on?”
Simon sighed; there was no sense in glossing over the truth. “I was just involved in a military action over Eden; it may still be in progress, for all I know. But last I saw, the Knackers had the upper hand. My fighter crashed near here; I suspect the aliens may be visiting soon to check it out. We should prepare for the worst. Travel could become difficult, and dangerous, very soon. Your best bet may be to dig in and defend this site, or hide. How many people live here?”
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