True courage is not the absence of fear, it is the conquering of it.
***
"By the Prophet's black heart, what sort of a stunt was that, Liz?"
"Give me some credit, Kev, it was an evasive maneuver!"
"Sure, if you were 'evading' a beached whale! You would have been vapebait for an Jaheem on a bad-"
"Kids."
The warning tone of Captain Aiden Hunt crackling through their group channel ended the banter between the pilots. Ensign Lisa Starr, nicknamed 'Liz', muted her mic, and sighed. She had thought that was a clever move, sort of a standard corkscrew spin while reversing thrusters, but it sounded like it didn't have the effect she hoped it would. The Captain wasn't complaining, but he didn't compliment her either, so it looked like the effort didn't fly.
Metaphorically speaking.
"Alright, that's enough on the solo maneuvers, resume cruise configuration" Captain Hunt ordered, his voice cool and always reassuring. "Form up behind me, double dagger and prepare for re-entry."
'I guess that's it for today,' Lisa mused as she retracted the foils and brought her Valkyrie alongside her lead, Ensign Kevan 'Kev' Jaks. The six ship squadron fell into two three-ship units, Siria and Base Star veteran Captain Aiden Hunt heading up the newly formed 'Phoenix' Squadron.
It was an honor for a new pilot - Lisa had only completed flight school three months ago - to even be in the same flight as the famed 'Knight Leader', one of the best pilots the Luftwaffe had ever seen, a solid second to his friend - and Templar-in-training - Johann Strauss. Considering that Strauss had 'The Mystica' to enhance and sharpen his senses, Aiden Hunt' rivaling of the hero of Syria was all the more stunning.
Almost as stunning as his flawless face, rich brown hair, unshakable nerve, athletic figure, winning smile and charmingly unassuming personality.
Silly teenager ogling aside, Lisa had other reasons for wanting to make a good impression on the young Captain. She had always hoped that one day, she too could qualify to fly with the Knight Squadron, and have her Valkyrie marked with the silver stripes and infamous insignia of the elite fighter unit that, for many, symbolized the strengths and hopes of the entire Fifth Reich. The scream over the heads of Jaheem tyrants and let the whole wide galaxy know that resistance was never futile. Not even the planet killing Base Star could stand in their way.
It was why she had signed on with the Reich in the first place, despite the protests of her loved and much-missed family. Her parents were secretly Reich sympathizers, though they could make no open show of their opinions on the Core World of Belarus, and Lisa had been exposed to the horrific reality of the Jaheem, its formation and its methods, since the day she was old enough to stomach it. Her father, a Reich combat pilot prior to the First War, had worked tirelessly to establish in his children's minds the principles of liberty and democracy that he had sworn to and fought for in his younger days. Her mother showed them images and vids from the HoloNet, unforgettable scenes like the Tyrol Massacre and Holdomor Holocaust.
Her parents had hoped that such education would deter their children from joining the Jaheem Military Corps, and from becoming desensitized to the brutality of the Jaheem, by peer pressure and propaganda.
They hadn't expected it to spur their only daughter to join the resistance.
But in the end, her parents gave their assent, fully knowing that they would likely never see Lisa again. Aside from the perils of war, no active duty member of the Reich could enter a Core World without express permission and utmost secrecy; the risks were too great. Even her two older brothers knew nothing of her activity since the day she was whisked away by disguised Reich recruitment agents, then blindfolded and shipped to a remote base in the Rim Worlds, to begin her new life.
It had been more than two years, since that day. Two full years in training and orientation. But now, after the intense, often grueling days of boot camp and flight school, it was beginning to pay off. Now, she had her wings, commanded one of the best starfighters in the galaxy, had survived her first five combat missions, and was serving under the command of the dashing Captain Aiden Hunt.
Well, she was flying with him, anyways. And maybe... someday.
With another sigh, Lisa pushed away her idle daydreams of silver stripes and handsome hotshot pilots, and concentrated on keeping her position within their formation, without coming too close to the testy Kev's lancing tips...
"Watch it, Liz! A fucking good sneeze and we're swapping paint-jobs!"
Gritting her teeth in frustration, Lisa addressed her mech-droid, "P5, give me ninety percent on the inertial compensator." The droid beeped its assent. It was a bit disconcerting to feel the weightlessness of space set in as the artificial gravity dropped, but it also allowed for more intuitive control, or so the pros said. Flying by the seat of the pants and all that shit.
"Switch all deflectors to front, prepare for re-entry."
"You heard him, 5," Lisa called out, checking her dive flaps. The muddy green sphere of Sari filled her viewscreen as Phoenix flight prepared to penetrate the planet's thick, humid atmosphere. Her locator had already locked on to the base's encrypted transponder, and now it was only a matter of hitting the navpoints as the flight neared Sari Base's landing platform.
It was Aiden's last flight with the new squad, and soon Phoenix Squadron would be official and deployed to who knows where, and the famous Captain would move on to assess other units. Maybe another day, she'd get her chance.
Suddenly alarms filled the cockpit. Emergency transmission indicators lit the control panel in crimson as Lisa scrambled to reset the sirens and accept the distress signal.
"Calling any and all Luftwaffe craft, this is the High Command Cruiser Eagle One," a strained male voice sounded over each pilot's headset. "We've been pulled out of gravity-drive and separated from our escort. Engaged by nine Destroyers, one Xian-class Interceptor Cruiser, indeterminate number of fighters. We need immediate reinforcements!"
The multilayered signal was already feeding coordinates into the Valkyries' navacoms as the officer continued to rattle off details of the emergency. "We can't jump until the Interceptor is neutralized. We have no fighters aboard. Long range communications are jammed."
Lisa whispered orders to her mech-droid. "Patch those coordinates in, 5, and get us ready for-"
The words froze in her mouth as the officer spoke the words she had known only from boot camp. The words every Reich soldier feared most.
"Our cargo is hot."
Cargo is hot.
Translated: The vessel was carrying the core of the Fifth Reich. Commander-in-Chief Anna D'arc, General Ryker, and Princess Gisela Deja. The leaders, the masterminds that kept the Reich alive and strong through their darkest hours, who were the personification of hope and freedom throughout the galaxy, for every oppressed citizen and fugitive. Knight Squadron might represent the arm of the Fifth Reich, but these men and women were the heart and soul of the Kriegsmarine to Restore the Reich. They were the future of freedom and democracy in the galaxy.
And they were at the mercy of a Jaheem Starfleet, to be either vaporized or taken captive. No gravity-drive jump, no fighters, no support craft.
"Fuck!" Kev swore over the headset. "Can't the fucking brass keep their own asses out of-"
"Phoenix flight!" Captain Hunt's urgent command cut off the pilot's protest. "All units assume those coordinates. We're the only fighters that can reach the Eagle One in time. Loosen formation and prepare for gravity-drive."
Lisa wasted no time bringing her Valkyrie around to clear the planet as Phoenix flight scrambled to assume the calculated trajectory. This is it. She'd flown in combat before, but this was different. This was a crisis. This was her moment to prove her skill and and her courage, along with her squad mates. Six fighters. Nine Destroyers and one Interceptor Cruiser.
And the future of the Reich in the balance.
***
P5 whistled the all clear, and Lisa pulled the lever. The gravity-drive alarm wailed its warning, and the starscape stretched to infinity.
As the streaked sky of hyperspace folded in on itself, Lisa wasted not a second to resume communications with her squadron. They materialized on either side of her within seconds, and Captain Hunt immediately began giving orders.
"All wings, report in," Aiden's voice was surprisingly calm, his trademark coolness already settling in even as they prepared to engage the enemy.
"Phoenix two, standing by," Lieutenant Evan Landers answered first, followed by his wing Ensign Hermione Riddick, flying Phoenix three.
Ensign Sol Navarro, a young Venusian male, flying as Aiden's wingman, was next. "Phoenix five, standing by," he announced, with a faint native accent.
Kev's voice was deadly as he called in. "Phoenix six, standing by."
Lisa felt her knees quivering even beneath her zero-G straps. "Phoenix seven, standing by," she called in, hoping her voice sounded steady as she began combing her sensors for the battle site.
"Bandits at six o'clock!" Lieutenant Landers shouted, just as the IFF sensors began to pick up the hostile signals.
"Form up behind me and break left." There was hardly a trace of nervousness in Aiden's voice; the man possessed an unbreakable calm when things heated up. Lisa hurried to bring her fighter around, watching as the red dots on her scope swung into her line of sight.
She stifled a gasp. "Oh shit."
The battle - if it could even be called that - was in full swing, the distinctive silhouettes of the Jaheem Destroyers heading directly towards the rebels as the massive starships pursued the fleeing Eagle One. The bulbous Kriegsmarine vessel had already taken substantial damage, and the Destroyers hadn't even opened fire yet. Swarms of round, silver specks reflected the light of nearby nebulae as they made pass after pass against the beleaguered Nebula-class Cruiser, while the Destroyers stalked it, waiting their time to strike.
"Phoenix flight, set all deflectors double front and disregard all fighters, our only target is the Interceptor at four and nine. Repeat, disregard all fighters."
