Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Chaos Rising	By : TerminusEst Category: +S through Z > Sonic Views: 1284 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Sonic The Hedgehog game series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Chapter
Fourteen: Zero Hour Part I
"Now
here i

My
fairy tale

Of
dying flowers
Of
the earth

And
those it covers

Of
dying maids

And
Viking men

Of
birds that never

Or
ever are the same again"
--Arcturus
- Fall Of Man
2:00:00
Admiral
Townswell stood on the bridge of the Arizona, watching the
huge procession of ships taking their positions for the final attack
on Mobius. In two hours, the Arizona and more than 1,500 other
ships would make a jump to Mobius orbit and put an end to the war.
For the past week the Mobians had become more and more desperate,
sometimes resorting to cowardly tactics like rigging a space station
with explosives, "surrendering” it, and then detonating the
explosives when Earth troops boarded the station. After three hundred
years, the Mobians apparently had not forgotten their bestial roots.
Forward
scouts had determined that the Mobians were also massing their ships
to protect Mobius from attack. This time, Townswell wasn't going to
try to slowly dig the Mobians out. This time it would be a full
frontal assault, designed to crush the Mobian morale as well as their
fleet strength. The Earth public wanted a swift and decisive victory,
and Townswell would give it to them.
--
"Well,
Rex," said Bookshire. "It looks like you're well enough to
fly again." He quickly wrote something on a clipboard. "If
you have any problems, come see me."
"Sure,"
said Rex as he buttoned his shirt.
"Take
care of yourself out there, OK?" said Bookshire as he patted Rex
on the back.
"Of
course. Well, I better report to Riptos so I can go on duty again.
Bye."
"Goodbye,
and good luck."
"Thanks."
Rex walked out of Bookshire's office and saw Riptos waiting just
outside the door.
"Hey,
Rex," said Riptos. "Did Bookshire approve you going back to
work?"
"Yeah.
How have those bruises of yours been healing?"
"Well,
they don't hurt much anymore. They're this ugly green color right
now. They'll probably be gone in a few days. We're going to be going
on patrol soon. You have 30 minutes to get ready before you have to
report to the briefing room."
"All
right. Are you also going to our quarters?"
"No,
I have to talk with the station commander. You go on ahead. I'll meet
you in the briefing room."
"Okay
then. Seeya," said Rex as he walked down the hall back to his
quarters. A mere half-hour to transition from the idleness of a week
of sick days to going back to work. Rex wondered if it was really
enough time to get his game face on. But that was what he was given,
so he would have to make do.
1:40:00
Adrian
dragged himself out of bed, rubbing his eyes and fumbling for the
light switch. The wall clock read 9:30 AM. He felt vaguely disgusted
with himself for sleeping in so late. For the last few years he had
drifted through life, his only direction being the direction where
money lay. This had led him to cycles of ceaseless back-breaking
labor followed by complete sloth, two bad ways to live one's life
rolled up into one. He thought back to one of his conversations with
Rex, where the red hedgehog had said, "You need to find
somewhere to go and something to do, because you're not going
anywhere and not doing much." How true that statement was. But
the obvious reply to it that surfaced in Adrian's mind was, "What?"
If he could find somewhere to go and something to do, he wouldn't be
adrift in the first place. Something else Rex said then came to him:
"Self-pity is the most destructive of all emotions."
"Get
out of my head, Rex," Adrian mumbled as he shambled over to the
en-suite bathroom and splashed water from the tap against his face.
He desperately wished for someone to talk to about his problems.
Rex's week off was over. His parents were in a part of the galaxy
that was at war with his own. Max had absolutely no ambition and was
content with serving drinks to people for the rest of his life,
capable of giving Adrian empty sympathy but not helping him to get
out of his plight. Nadia had just abandoned him. He never had a need
to be surrounded by a large circle of friends and often enjoyed
solitude, but he hated being completely isolated like this.
He
sighed as he took off his clothes and walked over to the shower. He
always found a hot shower or bath good for lifting his spirits. But
it would only be a temporary thing to hide the true problem--that he
had been wasting his life for several years now. As the hot water ran
over him, he hoped or a way out of the self-destructive rut he had
fallen into.
1:15:00
Rex
followed Riptos in his fighter down the taxi routes in the bowels of
Orbital Station 12, approaching the launch bay. Massive floodlights
were embedded in the ceiling, creating huge stripes of light and
shadow in the long, cold metal tunnels. The mask that covered his
face sent dry, sterile air into his lungs from the fighter's
life-support systems--the taxiways and launch bays were not
pressurized and thus just as hostile as space itself. As he neared
the end of the taxiway, he came to a set of massive doors that led
into the launch bay. The doors opened automatically, revealing the
panorama of space outside the bay.
The
station commander's voice crackled over the commlink. "17th
Green Dragons, launch." Rex punched the throttles, sending his
ship barrelling out of the launch bay, following Riptos's lead.
"It's
good to have you back, Rex," said Skitz.
"Yeah,"
said Pinky. "We all missed you, even Deathwish, although he's
too much of a dick to admit it."
"I
would like to hear what he would have to say if he heard you saying
that," said Riptos.
"You
would," muttered Pinky.
Rex
chuckled a bit as Pinky was put in his place. Deathwish and Pinky
were like two manifestations at the same being, diametrically opposed
yet sharing so much in common. They both got banned from Orbital
Station 12 bar for essentially the same shenanigans, only performed
on different genders. Listening to them bicker was almost an
excercise in irony.
"You
okay, Rex?" said Skitz. "You've hardly said anything this
morning."
"Yeah,
I'm fine. I haven't been in a talkative mood lately." Rex looked
out at Mobius, the planet he had beheld from space in innumerable
other sorties. But this time, he couldn't help but see its cities in
flames in his mind's eye. 61 Virginis was the only system left in
Mobian hands and Mobius its sole stronghold. The twilight of the
Mobian Federation was near and inevitable. Rex hoped that he would
survive it.
1:10:00
Nikolai
Yakovlev pulled up to the Earth Capitol, his briefcase containing the
documents Fizetta Inverno's team had retrieved from the Black Fist
base. Today he would argue his case before the Earth legislature--a
case that the war should end immediately. It would not be an easy
task. The people of Earth had embraced war wholeheartedly and the
Earth media had demonized the Mobians, trumping up the case for war
relentlessly. The legislators had viewed war as a convenient way to
extend their own power and would not give up that power easily.
He
straightened his suit jacket as he climbed out of his car, slamming
the door behind him. A guard followed behind him, as Nikolai feared
he might be a target of an assassination attempt. Violating the
well-entrenched Earth government groupthink often had terrible
consequences for the violators.
"Good
morning, sir," a man said as Nikolai entered the building, "The
legislature is already waiting for you."
"Excellent,"
said Nikolai. "Let us get to work, shall we?"
"Of
course." The two of them headed down the hall, unaware of the
gleam in the "bodyguard"'s eye as he followed.
0:55:00
Adrian
thumbed through a technology magazine as he lay on the couch in his
quarters, his bare feet wedged under the couch cushions. He was
bored. He was always bored. There was hardly anything to do on
Orbital Station 12 except drink, and he couldn't hold his liquor very
well and didn't want to become an alcoholic, so that would only
entertain him for brief periods. Normally he would have his little
electronic pet projects, his home theater system, or his girlfriend
snuggled up with him on the couch to help him pass the time. But now
he was trapped far away from home and his girlfriend had left him.
With
a sigh, he put the magazine aside, and pulled out the directory
services book in the end table drawer. He had to find something to
do--he just couldn't take it anymore. A smile came across his face as
he came to the listing for the spa. The hot pools would probably be
closed due to water rationing, but the rest of it was probably still
open. Well, now I've found something to do, he thought as he
closed the booklet and stood up.
0:45:00
Max
looked up as a tall badger came over to him. "Good morning,
sir," he said as he put down the glass he was cleaning. "What
can I do for you today?"
"Do
you have any Michelob?" said the badger. "Or have you run
out of Earth beer?"
"In
fact, I do have some on hand. Just because there's an official trade
embargo with Earth doesn't mean I can't get drinks from
there...unofficially. It will cost you though."
"Whatever.
I've got money."
"Fifty
credits. In advance."
"All
right." The badger handed him a 50-credit note.
Max
poured the man a mug of beer and handed it and the bottle to him. The
badger took a sip of the beer. "Good stuff," he said.
"Of
course it is," Max said with a grin. "I'd never screw a
customer."
"You
got quite the sense of humor there, chum."
"It
helps smooth business relations."
As
the badger laughed and took a big slug of the beer, Max turned
towards a new customer who had come over. The bar had only been open
for an hour and a half and over a hundred customers had showed up
already. The people on Orbital Station 12 seemed to have gotten over
their fears of being bombed into oblivion recently.
Soon
they would all know just how justified those fears had been.
0:40:00
"Admiral
on deck!" the communications officer shouted as Kryche entered
the room. The bridge crew automatically stood up and saluted.
"As
you were," said Kryche as he strode over to his command chair.
"Admiral,
sir," said the sensor officer. "We've received the latest
reports from the scouts in Vega."
"Oh?"
said Kryche. He steepled his fingers together as he waited for the
news.
"The
Earth fleet is massing near the jump point to 61 Virginis. They're
going to attack Mobius; we can be sure of that. I don't think we've
ever seen that many ships before."
"How
many?"
The
sensor officer whistled. "One thousand five hundred. Maybe
more."
"Sweet
Jesus." Kryche rubbed his brow as he turned the number over in
his head. 1,500 ships was enough to devastate a planet in mere
minutes, and more than enough to tear through his fleet like an axe
through paper. There was no way around it--his fleet was well and
truly fucked.
"Call
a level 2 alert for the entire fleet. Have civilian stations on
standby, and order them to raise shields and deploy all available
weapons and fighters." A level 2 alert was the second highest
alert available. Only the level 1 alert, which was reserved for
active combat, was more serious.
"Aye,
sir. Initiating level 2 alert status."
"And
one more thing, Lieutenant," said Kryche to the young sensor
officer.
"What's
that?"
"Do
you believe in God?"
0:39:15
The
amber-colored indicator for a level 2 alert flashed in Riptos' visor.
The black and yellow hedgehog felt a twisting feeling in his gut. A
level 2 alert was always very serious, not something that was called
up routinely. Riptos knew something big was about to go down.
"All
right, men," he said. "You see that alert. Power up weapons
and set them on standby. We may need them." A chorus of
affirmatives rang in his headset.
"So
what do you think the alert is for, Riptos?" said Pinky.
"I
think we're about to get some unwelcome visitors in this system. Now
hold your tongue. Admiral Akwarus is on the line."
"Attention
all personnel," said Kryche over the link. "Forward scouts
have detected a large amassing of Earth forces around the jump point
leading into this system. Accordingly, I have called a level 2 alert
for all Mobian forces. All units commence combat readiness
procedures. Installations and capital ships are ordered to deploy any
available fighters. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill.
We have reason to believe an attack on our homeworld is imminent."
Riptos'
heart skipped a beat. His palms started to sweat. This time, it was
no dream. The battle of his life was likely to start very soon, for
real. He tried to focus his mind. Now was not the time to lose
himself in the fear and excitement of imminent battle.
Rex's
voice broke the tense, almost electric silence. "Damn," he
muttered. "God damn."
"It's
official," said Pinky. "We're fucked."
"Maybe
we are," said Riptos. "But we're going to fight anyway.
Those people down there depend on us, and we're going to deliver."
"I
never got the chance to call my family today," said Lieutenant
Serge Hacking, a new member of the Green Dragons who had been
assigned to them as a replacement for casualties.
"There
are many things we forget to do until it's too late, kid," said
Skitz. "Just hang in there. Maybe you will see them again."
"I
hope so," said Serge.
Riptos
looked out at the blackness of space, wishing for the company of his
own family. He missed them greatly, but he would proudly fight this
last battle even if it meant he would never see them again. And
heaven was such a cop-out.
0:30:00
Admiral
Townswell walked over to the dirty Mobian curled up in a fetal ball
in a brig cell with a bandage around his head. The young fox was a
Mobian scout pilot who had been shot down while scanning the Earth
fleet. He was wearing the torn remains of his flight suit, which had
been ruined by falling debris in the cockpit. His face was frozen in
fear, his eyes wide and staring. "Please don't hurt me," he
muttered over and over. "Please don't hurt me."
"I
couldn't do that if I wanted to," said Admiral Townswell
mock-sweetly. "Interstellar prisoner of war protocols and all.
Protocols that, for the record, your government does not observe."
The
terrified fox said nothing, his eyes darting between her and the two
security officers flanking her.
"What
do you want with me?"
"Mostly
just to keep you from running back to Mobius and giving us more
grief. But we would like to ask you a few questions. First of all,
who are you?"
The
fox's identity was the only information he was compelled to supply
under the prisoner treaties. "Michael Graves, lieutenant junior
grade, service number 49ZK-5696-XLRW-AA23," he muttered in a
monotone.
"Well,
Lieutenant Graves, we're going to be paying Mobius a visit in a
little while. Would you like to tell us what to expect when we get
there? If you answer all of our questions we will give you special
priveleges, the first among them being letting you out of your cell."
"I'm
not saying any more."
"Very
well then. Suit yourself. Your loyalty to your people is commendable
if you want to stay down here where it's so cold and dark. I'll be
seeing you again in a few hours."
Admiral
Townswell turned to leave, motioning to one of the guards as she did
so. "Get him fed, bathed, and clothed in something other than
those rags that used to be his uniform."
"Yes,
ma'am," said the guard, saluting her as she walked out. Now only
thirty minutes remained until the Earth fleet would attack Mobius. It
would be a day long remembered by both Mobians and humans. She was
sure of it.
0:20:00
Nikolai
Yakovlev tapped his foot impatiently as the security officer scanned
his ID card. There were still five more checkpoints to go until he
reached the senatorial chamber. Could this possibly take any longer?
"All
right, Mr. Yakovlev, I've verified your ID card," the attendant
said handing the card back to him.
"Thank
you." He stuck it in his wallet.
"Right
this way, sir," said another attendant, leading him to the next
checkpoint. Strict security protocols were always in force in the
Earth capitol. "At this rate," he muttered to himself,
"there might not be a Mobian Federation to call for a peace
treaty with."
0:15:00
Kryche
watched ships assuming defensive formations in the bridge monitors.
Ever since he had called the alert, Mobius had been preparing for
battle, marshalling all available ships, even police cutters, to aid
in the defense, and bringing all defensive systems online.
He
swiveled his chair around as the door to the bridge opened. revealing
Captain Anthony Drake. Captain Drake reporting on force readiness,
sir," he said as he saluted Kryche.
"What
of it?"
"Available
spaceborne units are 80 percent deployed. We have ground units
operating in force in most major cities. Ground-to-orbit cannons are
fully operational. Missile satellites are not fully ready yet, but
we're working on that."
"Good,"
said Kryche. "Do you think we are ready for an attack?"
"Just
about. We'll probably have everything ready in twenty minutes, maybe
less."
"Excellent.
Keep monitoring force readiness, and evacuate all civilians to
designated shelter areas."
"Yes,
sir. Right away." Captain Drake saluted and left the room.
"What
do you think are our chances, sir?" said Lieutenant Commander
Ana Donahue, the communications officer.
"Somewhere
between slim and none," said Kryche. "And I think slim is
on its way out the door."
0:13:30
Adrian
purred as the masseuse's hands swept over his lower back. He felt
like he could lie there forever, with the touch of the masseuse
sending pleasure coursing through his body and the scent of the oils
like olfactory nirvana, soothing and uplifting. This was better than
soaking in a hot bath, better than when Bookshire's scatter-brained
wolf protege had given him too much morphine and made him as high as
a kite, better than anything he had ever experienced before. He
clenched his hands against the massage table and inhaled sharply as
the masseuse swept a finger down his tail, moving her hand in such a
way to make it seem like an accident.
"Oops,"
she said in a blatantly fraudulent tone. "Looks like I made a
little slip of the hand."
"You're
welcome to make that slip again," mumbled Adrian.
The
masseuse chuckled and began to run her fingers along Adrian's ribs
with one hand while she kneaded the small of his back with the other.
"Does that feel ticklish?" she said.
"No,
not at all," said Adrian. I'm going to give her a big tip
when this is over, he thought.
His
reverie was interrupted by the sound of a door opening and cold draft
chilling his bare flesh. His eyes snapped open and he saw a soldier
standing in the doorway.
"What's
going on?" said the masseuse. "Is there a problem?"
"In
response to suspicion of an imminent attack against this station, we
are evacuating all civilians to designated shelter areas. I have been
sent to guide you and your client to a shelter. Come with me."
"Good
lord!" said Adrian. "Now? I'm not wearing any clothes!"
The
masseuse quickly grabbed a white bathrobe and handed it to Adrian.
"Put this on," she said.
Adrian
was unable to avoid exposing himself as he got off the table to put
the robe on, the towel falling off of him as he rose. He put the
bathrobe on as quickly as possible, also donning the slippers she
handed him a few seconds later. He followed her and the soldier out
the door, his oil-soaked fur emitting a lavender scent so thick he
could cut it with a knife and the air feeling like ice. "I smell
like a goddamned flower now," he grumbled.
"There
are showers set up in the shelters where you can wash yourself off,"
said the soldier. Hurry!"
Adrian's
pace quickened as he followed the soldier down several hallways and
elevators until they came to the station's assembly hall, which was
filled with cots and confused, frightened Mobians. He saw an area in
the corner with a drain and several hand showers. There were already
three people there, and he didn't suspect that it was going to get
any less crowded, so he went over anyway. Slipping off his robe, he
took one of the hand showers and began to rinse the oil out of his
fur. The sudden interruption, the confusion, the cold air and colder
water, and the intense embarrassment had turned his ecstasy into
misery. When he was as clean as he could get with cold water and no
soap, he put his bathrobe back in, and lay down on a cot next to the
woman who had been massaging him. "What a way to ruin a
wonderful morning," he grumbled. "Lying half-naked and
freezing cold in this hellhole. I'm probably going to spend hours in
here with thousands of other people, and I don't even have any
pants!"
"Oh,
come on," said the masseuse, her fingers stroking his ears
seductively. "You're kind of cute for such a skinny little guy.
How old are you?"
"Twenty-two.
Probably around ten years younger than you. What would your husband
think?"
"I'm
not married. The nametag says Miss Stacy Tanner." She rubbed the
back of his neck with her fingers.
"We
just met, Stacy. I don't think you and I are on the same page."
"Now
don't be so shy. What was your first name again? Aaron?"
"Adrian."
Part of him resented her advances, but another part of him began to
stir, bringing with it desire. Desire for her. He involuntarily
licked his lips.
"I
see that look on your face," Adrian, she said, sliding her
fingers under the neckline of his bathrobe to stroke the smooth skin
of his chest, almost as supple to the touch as his soft, rusty fur.
"Why don't you come to my quarters when this is all over?"
she whispered, her voice dripping with lust.
"Yes,"
Adrian said without thinking, as if an outside force was twisting his
thoughts and words. I'm probably going to regret this, he
thought. Or not. "Now could you take your hand out of my
robe before people start to stare at us?"
"All
right. There's always later, after all." She withdrew her hand,
lightly caressing Adrian's face as she did so. The young man could
not help but smile. He had a weak spot for women that liked to take
the lead and be the one in charge. Maybe it was his relatively
passive and shy personality. Maybe he just liked to be nurtured.
Perhaps because his adoptive parents liked to stroke him, hold him,
and cuddle him well into his teen years--and beyond. He knew there
was no way a workable relationship could come out of this. But he
would enjoy it for the moment.
0:10:00
"This
is the Arizona to all units," said Admiral Townswell over the
comlink. "Commence final launch preparations. Launch in T-minus
ten minutes and counting." She could almost smell victory ahead
as she waited for the timer to run down. It would be a glorious day
for the Earth Republic and for humans everywhere. Were it up to her,
she would make the Mobians return to human homes as pets like they
were made to be, but the Earth government was feeling more charitable
than that. There would be no more Mobians lying in human laps with
collars around their necks. The flea-ridden little bastards had
proven formidable enough to grant them that.
She
turned to Captain Derek Ndele. "Is everything ready on the
Arizona?" she said.
"Yes,
ma'am. If he didn't have to wait for the rest of the fleet, we could
launch at this moment."
"It
is so satisfying to witness everything going right, is it not?"
"Indeed,"
said Captain Ndele. "Victory will be ours by the end of this
day."
0:08:00
Rex
watched as lights began to turn on in the missile satellite a few
kilometers from his ship. The Mobian Federation was marshalling
anything and everything with weapons. It was the largest amassing of
men and equipment for one battle in the history of Mobius. This was
the last line, the only one left for Mobius to defend.
And
damned if he would let the Earthers cross it.
0:07:30
Nikolai
returned the guards' salutes as he walked briskly into the
legislature hall. The security checks had taken almost half an hour,
and he was finally in. A man guided him to his seat where he would
wait for his turn to speak. He rehearsed his speech over and over in
his head, thinking about vocal inflection, word use, and every
conceivable aspect. He wanted it to be perfect. The question was
whether perfect would be enough.
0:05:00
Kryche
lit a cigarette as he waited for further news on mobilization
progress. He hated waiting. The worst part of war was when you knew
you were about to be attacked, and could do nothing but wait for them
to make their move. The Mobian navy was in no shape to take the
initiative against the Earthers. The outcome of the battle seemed
like a foregone conclusion, but he would fight as hard as he could
anyway. If he fought, he would likely die. If he surrendered, the
Earthers would probably find some reason to kill him anyway. It was a
lose-lose proposition. If he was going to die, he was going to die
like a man.
0:03:00
"I
have come here," said Nikolai as he looked out towards the
assembled legislators, "with evidence that the Mobian Federation
bears no responsibility whatsoever for the war with them in which we
are now engaged, and that the reasonable and prudent course of action
is to immediately cease hostilities with the Mobian Federation."
The
chatter within the legislature chamber was immediately silenced.
"I
was assigned to carry out a clandestine diplomatic operation with an
agent of the Mobian Federation. What I found out during that mission
makes it clear that a third party is the true aggressor in this war,
and that we have all been deceived."
Nikolai
exhaled audibly after that statement. Now that he had made his big
statement, he would have to explain and justify it to the
legislators. And they likely would need a lot of persuading.
00:02:30
Adrian
took a bite out of the ration kit that he had been given by the
soldiers running the shelters. The food was tough and the flavor
barely palatable, but it was all there was to eat. It was some sort
of salad, but it had a rubbery, unnatural consistency. He decided he
would ask Rex later if this would be what he would have to eat if he
joined the officer training corps. It was even worse than the
medicated, strage-tasting food that hospitals served their patients.
The
soldiers had also brought him a change of clothes, although they were
sized for someone much bulkier than Adrian. The shirt hung loosely
around his belly, the pants were almost falling off, and the hole for
his tail was too large. But as with the food, he had no choice. After
finishing the bizarre mutant salad, he lay on the cot, staring at the
ceiling. Stacy reached over and rubbed between his ears, elicting a
quiet purr. "Thanks for keeping me company," said Adrian.
"You're
welcome," Stacy said, scratching under his chin.
"Why
are you so interested in me anyway?"
"You
look so lonely. I feel like I can help you, make you happier."
"That's
an admirable sentiment. A friend of mine named Rex said about the
same when he met me. He's pretty much my only friend."
"Is
he a good friend?"
"Yes.
I could trust him with my life."
"Make
more such friends. You need them dearly."
"Maybe
you're right." He sighed and closed his eyes briefly. "When
I get back to Mobius. If I get back to Mobius."
00:01:30
Bookshire
looked around the nearly deserted casualty ward, unable to avoid
imagining dead and dying Mobian pilots lying in the beds. His staff
had begun moving every patient out of the infirmary who could be
moved, as the place would soon be overflowing with military
casualties. He turned around as Dexter Sekaro, his adopted son and
student, entered the room. "Ah, Dexy, how are things going?"
said Bookshire. His voice was friendly, but the expression on his
face was grave and vaguely sorrowful.
"Well,
we've managed to transfer about half of the patients out of the
infirmary," said Dexter. "The others weren't healthy enough
to move. I still don't think there will be enough room."
"Every
little bit helps," said Bookshire, resting a hand on Dexter's
shoulder. "This is probably going to be the hardest day of your
life, Dexter. I hope you're ready."
"As
ready as I'm ever going to be. I'm more worried about the possibility
of it being the last day of our lives."
"There's
the chance of that, too," said Bookshire. "But it's best
not to think about that."
"It's
hard not to."
"I
know. But when things actually start happening, you'll be too focused
on work to think about such things."
"Hardest
day of my life, huh? Things are already so hard already. I can barely
keep my head straight."
"I
understand. I was once a student myself. I remember, over twenty
years ago, spending nights helping Riptos with his college homework
after I had finished mine. I remember how scrawny he used to be."
"Riptos?
Scrawny? You're kidding me. He looks like he stepped out of an
exercise machine advertisement. The guy could break my neck without
even working up a sweat if he wanted."
"Oh,
I'm serious. Riptos Calavera, posting the slowest time on the
six-kilometer run, living on pizza and fries and just about
everything I would tell him not to eat, and just barely passing his
physicals. He's come a long way from there. After I pressured him
into taking up a sport to build his fitness up he tried swimming and
fell in love with it. The only person I've met whose a better swimmer
than he is is his own son. One thing about him has never changed,
though."
"What's
that?"
"He
still can't bear people bringing up the fact that he's short."
Dexter
laughed. "Well, he has to be, to fit in one of a fighter
cockpit. They'd never get me into one of those flying coffins."
Bookshire's
voice became a bit grimmer. "I think that for many pilots today,
your assessment of Mobian fighters will be correct."
0:00:30
"All
units initiate final launch procedures. Launch in T-minus 30 seconds
and counting," Admiral Townswell spoke into the comlink. Thirty
seconds. Thirty seconds away from the final attack on Mobius. Victory
was so tantalizingly close.
"T-minus
20 seconds." Her voice was flat, but her mind raced with
excitement at the prospect of crushing the Mobian Federation at last.
This day would be a glorious day, to be written down in the pages of
history for all time.
"T-minus
15 seconds. Stand by for launch." The seconds felt like
miniature eternities as anticipation stretched her perception of
time. The wait was such sweet suffering.
"T-minus
ten seconds." Almost there.
"Nine.
Eight. Seven." Her fist clenched, as if to crush that mongrel
Akwarus's throat.
"Six.
Five. Four." She smiled grimly as she felt the hyperdrive send
faint tremors through the floor as it powered up.
"Three.
Two. One." The moment she had been waiting on for so long was
upon her.
"Launch,"
she said at last.
- 14
- 15
- 16
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Chaos Rising