Across the Galactic Pond Read online

  “This tactic has cost you your craft; should I record it?” inquired Mira.

  “That wasn’t much of a tactic; just making sure I made the best use of a damaged starfighter by taking out as much of the enemy as possible. I doubt you can recreate those conditions easily, though.”

  “My tactical matrix is fully capable of adding the tactic to damage crafts under certain parameters.”

  “Then, by all means, add that move as well.”

  “Did you manage to upload the new flight tactics to the rest of the wings?”

  “I have added each tactic on-the-fly the moment their recording was over. My kill ratio of two to one jumped to five to one thanks to it.”

  The ship rocked as multiple plasma cannon shots hit its starboard shields.

  “We do, however,” continued Mira, “attract more attention to ourselves with our fighters performing better than the rest of the fleet.”

  “The Thalamos can take it; she’s a tough girl,” said Kevin with a smile.

  “My readings aren’t in alignment with your juvenile enthusiasm, I’m afraid.”

  “Juvenile? What makes you think I’m a juvenile?”

  “From the patterns of your overlaid brain activity to the deceased pilot’s body you’re currently occupying, I would say you’re still a youngling.”

  “On Earth, that’s called a young adult, thank you very much!”

  “I meant no offense. In fact, you seem very proficient in combat tactics for someone of your age.”

  Tell that to my father.

  “Thank you, Mira. That means a lot.”

  The ship rocked as more plasma fire impacted with its shields.

  “You’re perfectly welcome, Kevin.”

  * * *

  Kevin realized that now was not exactly a good time to focus on his own existential questions; there would be plenty of time for that later, once the battle was won. He took back control of the ship and put the Thalamos into evasive action. The starboard shields were almost depleted. A quick rotation on the ship’s vectoring axis fixed that. Kevin locked and fired a full complement of torpedoes toward the enemy destroyers whose shields were at their lowest. The first eight torpedoes finished the job of bringing the shields down and the last two in the salvo burst through the ship’s hull, splitting it in half just before exploding into a million pieces.

  “We’re being hailed,” said Mira.

  “On screen…I guess.”

  The bridge holo-screen came to life, and a green-skinned humanoid with vibrant facial tattoos appeared.

  “ASF Thalamos, we thought you were lost in the battle around Zalonia. Good to have you back.”

  Kevin smiled.

  “The reports of our demise have been largely exaggerated.”

  He, he. I always wanted to say that.

  A full-sized body of Mira’s hologram appeared next to Kevin.

  “If I may, Admiral Sarkis, I’m Mira, the ship’s war AI and technically last survivor onboard Thalamos. The ship was almost lost on Zalonia, but thanks to a remote pilot hailing from a distant planet, we managed to survive and rejoin the rest of the fleet. Kevin here is a proficient pilot with fresh tactics, which has helped us get the best of our enemies, so far. But, we do seem to have attracted the attention of other enemies. I’ve detected another three destroyers vectoring toward the Thalamos.”

  Unsure if he should say anything, Kevin just nodded. Feelings overcame him; two things he had hoped for during his life: recognition and pride for his deeds.

  The Admiral’s face hardened. “I see. Well, thank you Mira; and thank you, Kevin. As for the approaching destroyers, we’ll make sure the fleet redeploys and covers the Thalamos. Mira, what’s the status of Project Sigma?”

  “It has suffered damage, but the nanites are near completion with repairs,” said Mira.

  Project Sigma? What’s that?

  “I don’t have to tell you how important it is that this tech not fall into the enemy’s hands.”

  “Understood, Admiral. I’ll self-destroy the ship before that happens.”

  The Admiral nodded.

  “And while I don’t like the idea of using prototype tech in a critical battle like this one,” the admiral continued, “it could tip the balance. Do you think your pilot’s cognitive abilities are sufficient to control the weapon?”

  “His link with the ship’s system is the strongest we’ve ever had, Admiral. I think Kevin can do it.”

  Can do what?

  “Any risks to him?”

  “We’ve never tested the weapon with a remote link; there’s no way to know if negative feedback could affect Kevin’s biological mind, I’m afraid.”

  The Admiral looked straight into Kevin’s eyes.

  “Then the choice of deploying the weapon will be yours, Kevin. I’m sending the firing authorization command code to your ship’s AI, which will authorize you to deploy the weapon.”

  The Admiral’s holo-screen flickered as he almost lost his footing.

  “I have to cut this short, providing the Thalamos cover has proven a difficult task and I need to tend to my ship. Kevin, on behalf of the Arcadian Confederate, I thank you for your service. Your AI will let you know about Project Sigma. I trust you’ll use it wisely. Admiral Sarkis, out.”

  “Uhh…” but before Kevin could continue, the holo-screen turned off. “Bye, Admiral.”

  Mira’s hologram turned and looked at Kevin.

  “What’s Project Sigma?” he said preemptively.

  “The most guarded secret weapon to come out of the Arcadian R&D labs. It’s a deadly one-shot weapon that, if not working at full capacity, could destroy the Thalamos.”

  “So far you’re not filling me with confidence. What does it do?”

  “The weapon is twofold. It sends a cocktail of cognitive boosting drugs to the pilot who deploys the weapon, giving them the illusion of slowing time. All the while, the experimental power source will boost every system on the ship by a factor of ten for a few seconds. It will allow your engines to run faster, the ability to make multiple small hyperspace jumps, and fire all the weapons at your disposal with an increased yield.”

  “And the reason why we haven’t already fired it is? I mean, the battle out there is fierce, and if I understood you correctly before, if this battle is lost, Arcadia Prime would fall.”

  “As I was telling the Admiral, the weapon was damaged before you became the pilot. It will be ready momentarily. But, I feel obligated to warn you that the weapon hasn’t seen a successful deployment yet, I’m afraid. In many instances, the volunteer pilots who tried using it ended up…how should I say this—”

  Kevin frowned. “Give it to me straight, Mira.”

  “Irreparable brain damage.”

  Oh, swell.

  “But, am I not shielded since my brain is still on Earth? Or did I somehow teleport here? I did see space and galaxies fly by on my way to the ship.”

  “That’s a side effect of the subspace link; your brain is aware of the distance of the subspace link as it traveled to the Thalamos. But, you are correct, your physical body is still on your home planet.”

  “So…shouldn’t that protect me?”

  “Kevin, the subspace signal linking your brain to the deceased pilot’s whose body you now inhabit is very complex. Thanks to nanites we’ve injected into the deceased crew member, you can move around the ship and use its systems. I’m afraid there’s simply no way to know what would happen to you should the weapon malfunction.”

  Kevin didn’t like the sound of that. While he had found the entire experience up until now to be exhilarating beyond anything he had experienced in his life, he was very attached to his brain and the prospect of living a full life. With so many experiences still to be discovered, like getting married, making love to a woman, starting a family and having kids so he could love them and guide them better than his father had done with him. And, there were so many places on Earth he wanted to visit, though nothing compared to flying
and literally captaining a ship into battle like he was doing now. It was like playing the best VR game on steroids, and he was addicted to the experience, already.

  But is it worth the risk? Kevin wondered.

  “I’m not sure what to tell you.”

  Multiple flashes of light bled through their viewport.

  “Oh, no!” exclaimed Mira.

  “What is it? What’s happening?”

  “Another fifteen enemy destroyers have entered orbit around Arcadia Prime. My new battle simulation projections are not good. The arrival of these new ships gives us less than a five percent chance of winning this battle. By the time the day is over, every man, woman, and child on the surface of Arcadia could be enslaved…or killed.”

  Oh shit.

  “How many people live on Arcadia Prime?” he inquired.

  “Arcadia Prime hosts twenty-two billion souls.”

  A bright explosion nearby caught Kevin’s attention. A ship had been destroyed.

  “What ship was that?”

  But Kevin’s question was rhetorical; he had seen the ship bleep out of existence on his HUD’s holo-radar. Still, he felt compelled for confirmation.

  “I’m afraid, Kevin, that was the Admiral’s ship; the strongest ship in the fleet, next to me.”

  Kevin felt a pit form in his stomach.

  Two more Arcadian destroyers that had redeployed to provide the Thalamos with cover fire succumbed to enemy fire.

  “Mira…” said Kevin slowly. “By your estimation, how long until the battle ends?”

  “At this rate, this battle could be over in less than ten minutes. My programming obliges me to inform you that I have no way of knowing what would happen to your brain if the ship is destroyed while the mental subspace link is still online. You could suffer brain damage due to feedback.”

  “You’re all good news at the moment, aren’t you, Mira?”

  “I detect a smidge of sarcasm in your last comment, but considering the position we’re in, I suppose it is warranted.”

  Kevin raised an eyebrow. “A smidge?”

  Mira’s hologram tilted her head to the side.

  “Never mind that,” said Kevin. “So, what is it you’re telling me?”

  “You’re clearly an intelligent lifeform, Kevin.”

  “I still want to hear you say it.”

  “You seem to have two options at this present time. Deploy the Project Sigma superweapon and hope it doesn’t fry your brain, or ask me to disconnect the remote mental subspace signal, sending your consciousness back into your body.”

  At first glance, the choice seemed clear; if Kevin wanted to live, and he really wanted to, the safest course of action was to disconnect the link. But could he live with himself knowing that he abandoned billions and sent them to their deaths so he could save himself? All his life he dreamt of making a difference in people’s lives. Sure, in his head, he had imagined he would do that on planet Earth. But, he knew very well that right at this moment, using this distinction as an argument, was a mixture of fear and cowardice. The two forces in his life he knew full well had been preventing him from achieving anything worthwhile up until now.

  His brain had always been bursting with ideas and big dreams, but he never managed to fully believe in himself to do anything about it or for those ideas or dreams to materialize. Was today the one chance to do that? And if that was the case, could he turn his back to being a hero and save billions? Kevin knew no one on Earth would believe him if he told them this tale. But at the end of the day did that matter? If he could do something to save all these people, could he just turn his back to save his hide? What kind of person would that make him?

  A failure. That’s what he would be if he turned tail and ran. And that would make his father’s words true, something that he simply couldn’t stand.

  “Very well; let’s do this, Mira!”

  “It will take fifteen seconds for me to disconnect your brain connection to the host body.”

  “No! The other thing, Mira; activate Project Sigma.”

  “Are you sure, Kevin?”

  “More than anything in my entire life. I just wish we had time to prepare for this.”

  “Project Sigma will drain most of the ship’s power once it’s done, so if you don’t get all the enemy ships with that one manoeuver, we’ll surely be destroyed.”

  While Kevin pondered Mira’s words, more than a third of the fleet fell. Time was quickly running out, and Kevin knew he had to try at least.

  “How long will the weapon be active?” he asked.

  “Anywhere between ten and thirty seconds. But because your perception of time will be greatly altered, it will feel much longer for you.”

  “Can I access battle simulation scenarios? Like you do to calculate our current odds of survival?”

  “You can; the computer will also receive a boost, allowing you to interact with it faster than you can at the present time. As for our odds of survival, they’ve dropped below one percent in the last minute.”

  No pressure!

  “Can you dose me with the drugs a few seconds prior to activating the experimental power source so I can spend the first few seconds running a few simulations, and so I can gauge the enhanced power of the weapons? That way I won’t waste any of the limited time I have with the enhanced power.”

  “I can, but that will probably lower your chances of survival even more.”

  “By how much?”

  “Five percent more.”

  “And, right now, where do my chances stand?”

  Mira took a moment to answer. “Do you really want to know, Kevin?”

  He nodded.

  “Seventeen percent; though you have a better link with the ship’s system than any pilot that has ever taken control of Project Sigma, so I’m hoping these figures are on the low side, and your chances are higher.”

  Seventeen percent chance of survival. Kevin now regretted having asked for the odds.

  No pain, no gain.

  “Please reprogram the weapon to give me a five-second heads-up so I can run weapon impact simulations just before going into my battle move. And, please, give me firing control.”

  “Adjustment complete. Firing control added to your HUD.”

  “One last question, Mira. If I disable every non-essential system onboard the ship and redirect their power into Project Sigma, could that boost its function time and weapons’ efficiency?”

  “Theoretically, yes, Kevin. Both, in fact. You could gain up to twenty-five percent more firepower and an additional second or two of deployment, but it would put more stress on the system, which could lead to its failure or malfunction.”

  Kevin chuckled. “You mean more than it already is? You don’t need to answer that, that was rhetorical. But you know what, Mira, if my brain fries as a result of this, I don’t think I’ll give a shit if it’s deep fried or extra crispy. Give me a list of systems I can redirect power from on my HUD, please.”

  A list of systems appeared in front of Kevin. As he selected them one by one, he paused on the last one in the list.

  “That’s you, isn’t it?”

  “Correct, Kevin. My systems take a lot of power. You should deactivate me.”

  “It’s been an honor fighting by your side today, Mira.”

  “The honor has been mine, Captain.”

  Kevin got goosebumps upon hearing Mira’s last word. He deactivated her and reinjected Mira’s power into Project Sigma.

  “Goodbye, Mira,” said Kevin for no one’s benefit but himself.

  Kevin activated Project Sigma, and the sensation he felt when the drugs were released was like nothing he thought possible. Time seemed to slow to a crawl while his brain activity and thinking patterns multiplied beyond his wildest dreams. He felt like he could literally think at the speed of light. His head hurt, but he was able to ignore the pain as if it was just a pesky program he could put on hold.

  He activated the simulation and checked the amount of po
wer that he would require to take down the enemy ships. Mira had not undersold the power of the weapon. With a few hits from the multiple laser turrets, he could bring down the enemies ships’ shields. The Thalamos would also gain in speed and maneuverability, which would give him a great tactical advantage. He could also perform up to ten hyperspace micro-jumps, which to the enemy would appear as if he teleported around them.

  He ran a multitude of scenarios at mental speeds that defied the imagination. When he thought he had a good grasp of the Thalamos’ power once Project Sigma would activate, he focused his brain power like never before.

  No losing focus today. Keep your eye on the ball, Kevin.

  Kevin activated Project Sigma and began his attack run. He vectored the ship through enemy fire with ease, making sure the Thalamos avoided all dangerous firing zones, making sure his ship was never in a kill box position as well as aligning his shots in a way that he could create the most damage to the enemy fleet. He plotted his moves beforehand like a furious game of chess, making split-second decisions.

  In the first few seconds of engagement, which felt like minutes to Kevin, he had obliterated no less than seven Kregan destroyers, blasting their shields to kingdom come with the Thalamos’ laser turrets while sending them to hell with just the right number of torpedoes. Every time he took down a few ships, he would micro-jump to the other side of the battle theater, never letting the enemy fleet redeploy and target him properly.

  After twenty seconds, he only had five destroyers to get through, but alarms and warnings flashed on his HUD, indicating that the ship was being pushed to its utter limits.

  I thrive under pressure, he thought to reassure himself and keep his focus laser sharp.

  He had another two micro-jumps and only a handful of seconds left in the Project Sigma time-diluted mode. Only three enemy destroyers remained, while the Arcadian fleet had all but been disabled or decimated. While his thoughts were still flying faster in his mind than ships flying in hyperspace, he could feel the effects of the drug starting to falter. Soon it would end. He targeted the nearest ship with half a complement of torpedoes and fired upon his target. Without waiting for confirmation, he moved to the second destroyer and tried jumping behind it to avoid the laser fire rain of death the ship had unleashed toward the Thalamos. An alarm resounded around him as his HUD flashed orange, indicating that the ship’s hyperspace engine had failed to micro-jump. They were damaged earlier when the previous enemy destroyer exploded in close proximity of his ship.