Forge of War (Jack of Harts) (9 page)

Jack glanced at Charles, saw the man’s calculating look, and shifted back to Aneerin.  “What
is
your mission?”

Aneerin chuckled slowly, and Jack saw the man return fully to the present.  “Why, Jack, telling you
that
would be
cheating
,” he said in amusement.  Then he patted the bulkhead again, this time very fondly.  “But you know, this ship was not always known as the
Guardian Light
.  He had another name during the Great War.  A bit more blood thirsty as I recall.”  On the other side of the room, Hal smiled back at them again.  “I have seen the lights of too many great civilizations die, Jack.”  He patted the bulkhead one more time and gave Jack a very serious look.  “Look at the name.  It may give you a clue.”

Jack blinked, glanced over at Charles whose face suddenly took on a pole axed look, and then over at Betty who just smiled at him.  She knew.  Of course she knew.  She was Peloran.  Sorta.  And then a chill went down his spine as his mind connected the dots that Charles already had.  The
Guardian Light
.  The guardian
of
the light.  The light of civilization.

“Oh my God,” Jack whispered.

Aneerin gave him a thin smile.  “Indeed.  Some missions take a lifetime to fulfill.  I hope I fulfill mine before my time is up.  I should greatly wish to retire and spend time with the trees on some backwater world where nobody knows my name.”

Jack held the best tasting loaf of bread he’d ever eaten.  He tore another chunk out of it and chewed, watching the pilots relive the battle with sweeps of their hands and whoops of exaltation.  The table they sat at or stood over overflowed with amazing ale and fruit and breads and meats.  Jack glanced down at the bread in his hand and swallowed his mouthful.  He had formed a number of expectations from what he’d seen of the Peloran over the years and this room did bad things to most of them.

He shifted his gaze to where Hal leaned against a pure white bulkhead, looking with complete and utter ease over the people in the battleship he controlled.  The cyber watched the men and women who lived on his ship celebrating the fact that they still lived.  A smile came over his face and the cyber glanced over to Jack for a moment before turning back to the other pilots.

“They really are amazing, aren’t they?” Aneerin asked and Jack turned to give the much older Peloran a questioning eyebrow.  “Our preconceptions, I mean.  So much of what we see depends on them, doesn’t it?”  Aneerin smiled again.  “What do we do when they collide with reality?”

Jack frowned and studied the shouting and laughing Peloran pilots, partying in victory along with the handful of other American pilots.  He’d never seen a Peloran party, never realized that the quiet and calm tree hugging Peloran he’d seen on the news and in the movies all his life
would
party in any way that he would consider a party at all.  Jack took another bite of the bread and considered as he chewed on it.  He glanced over to where Charles stood on the other side of Aneerin, the heir of a vast family fortune who had been to thousands of parties with tens of thousands of people, and caught the other pilot’s thoughtful gaze.  Charles nodded and Jack had the feeling he’d come to the same conclusion.  He was a real smart cookie.

“Well,” Jack finally said with a shrug.  “I suppose I reassess.”  Aneerin’s smile broadened.  Jack shook his head and met the older man’s gaze.  “Though I wonder why you show us this.  You brought us here on purpose; you showed us this on purpose.  You want us to believe that your people are different than what we have been led to believe.  Either you are, or you are
playing
like you are.”

“You
know
we can’t lie, Jack,” Aneerin said, spreading his hands out wide.

“But you said it yourself,
you
are only
half
Peloran,” Jack answered with a pointed smile.

“Touché.” Aneerin smiled at Jack and waved an arm towards the party.  “So what do you think?  Am I lying with this display or not?”

Jack glanced at Charles again, measuring where the man stood.  A shadow of a smile cracked his face, telling Jack the man stood with him.  “I think you have a vested interest in making us see your people as something other than the calm and cultured aliens from the great beyond who brought miracle medicines and advanced technologies,” Jack said, cocking his head to spear Aneerin with his gaze.  “And I think we need to find out what that vested interest is.”

Aneerin’s smile erupted into laughter that mixed into the celebration in the room perfectly.  “Ah, Jack,” he said after composing himself.  “I like you.  Never stop asking why people want you to believe
anything
.  Sometimes it is for your benefit, sometimes for
their
benefit, and very rarely it can be for
both
.”  Aneerin aimed a pointed look at Jack before turning back to the party.  “Understand the reason and you understand the
truth
.”

Alarms rang out and words in Peloran began to transmit over the speakers.

“Ah.  It appears our conversation is at an end,” Aneerin said with a frown and Hal’s avatar turned to walk towards them.

Betty’s hand appeared on Jack’s shoulder and she leaned in close to his ear.  “They’re calling us to battle stations,” she whispered as the Peloran pilots dropped their food and drink and ran for the hatch.

A hologram of Hal flickered into existence before them.  “The Shang are attacking Fort London.  The British are trying to hold but they are having issues.”

“These Terran defense squadrons are too small.  It was a mistake for you to rely on the Lunar Treaty,” Aneerin said with an unhappy frown.

“The Chinese and Russians have held to it,” Charles said, disagreeing with Aneerin’s statement.

Aneerin pursed his lips.  “And that’s done you
so
much good.”

“Actually, it has,” Charles countered.  “They could have finished us by breaking it.  They haven’t.”

Aneerin studied him for several seconds before nodding.  “True.  But if you had more forces at Terra, you could better handle these Shang strikes.”

Charles gave him a smile and a raised finger.  “Turn around, Reverend, because you’re preaching to the choir on
that
point.”

Aneerin chuckled and turned as ordered to Hal’s hologram.  “Can we fight a sustained battle with them?”

“No,” Hal answered with a definitive shake of his head.

Aneerin turned back to Charles, all calm business.  “Will you fly with us?”

“Of course,” Charles said without hesitation, before aiming a sly smile at Aneerin.  “I have been to many parties on the Isle of Man and would like to do so again.”

Aneerin’s eyebrows rose at the admission.  “Yes.  I have been there myself.”  He paused for a second, his eyes glossed over as he remembered.  He shook his head and returned to the present with a swallow.  “That was some time ago though.  Walk with me please,” Aneerin said and began to follow his men towards the hatch.

Charles waved the other Cowboys over and followed Aneerin towards the hatch.  Jack shadowed Charles and Aneerin.

“How long does it take your fighters to recharge after a hyper transit?”  Aneerin asked.

“Four minutes.”  Aneerin gave him a disbelieving gaze.  “But we have capacitors that hold up to four charges,” Charles added.

Aneerin let out a breath as he considered the information and followed his pilots out of the hatch.  “It’s a hack,” Aneerin said to Hal as he turned left to walk towards the hangar bay.  Jack frowned as he noticed that the Peloran pilots had turned right, wondering where they were going.  “They didn’t put in a
generator
powerful enough to transit, they filled them up with
batteries
with enough charge to do it.  Now I understand how they managed it.”  He turned back to Charles.  “After a transit, how quickly can you transit again?”

Charles grimaced.  “Thirty seconds.”

Aneerin winced at the answer and looked up as Hal’s body walked into his hologram.  Jack’s practiced eyes noticed when the hologram faded away, leaving behind the real body as the cyber shook his head.  “What is the absolute minimum?” Aneerin asked.

Charles cocked his head towards Dorothy and she gave them all a tight smile.  “Ten seconds,” Dorothy answered in a cultured voice that chief advisors to powerful and rich families had perfected over the millennia.  “But that is with a ten percent failure rate due to overloading the capacitors during the energy transfer.  We’d be losing a fighter on average with each dive if we did that.”

“How about fifteen seconds?” Aneerin asked, pursing his lips in thought.

“Failure rates go down to four percent.” Dorothy said and gave a slight shrug.  “Probably survivable, if we take time for repairs between attacks.”

Aneerin turned to Hal.  “Can we do it?”

“Fifteen seconds is a long time,” Hal said with a pessimistic shake of his head.  “We will take heavy damage.  Are you certain they are worth it?”

Aneerin gave an unhappy sigh.  “Ten heavy fighters, designed for anti-warship action.  Considering our losses in that category, they are heavy reinforcements.  They could guard one of your flanks.”

“True,” Hal said with a frown.  “We can make do.  Perhaps we can even use it to our advantage.  If we stay longer than usual, the Shang may believe we are there to stay and shift their battle line to face us.”

“Indeed,” Aneerin returned with a nod and walked into the main hangar.  “I will leave the particulars to you.”

Jack followed him in and looked around.  It was as large and imposing as before, the massive tree on one end and the flickering energy curtain looking out into a black sky filled with stars on the other.  The great white bulkheads gleamed, and against one of them the Avengers sat, powering up again for battle.  Jack frowned and looked around, realizing that none of the Peloran fighters were still here.

Aneerin turned towards the American pilots as they filed into the hanger.  “Gentleman.  Ladies.  I believe it is time to fight again.”  As if on cue, the lights dimmed for a second and Jack swallowed as he looked out on the crazy quilt of colors that made up hyperspace.  “I’m afraid we have no launch bays that can accommodate your Avengers.  I trust you are willing to launch from here?”

Jack blinked in realization of where the Peloran pilots had gone.

“Of course we are,” Charles answered without a pause and waved everybody to their fighters.  He aimed a quick look at Jack, and Jack realized the man had caught that little tidbit as well.  “Hula!” Charles said in a soft tone, stopping Drew and Jasmine in their tracks.

“Yeah, Chief?” Drew asked, looking nervous.

Charles glanced over at her damaged Avenger.  Without the nose, she had no laser turret, but that wasn’t the worst of it.  “You can not break the surface,” Charles said with a shake of his head.  “You can not fight this one.”

Drew bit her lip before nodding.  “I’m sorry, Chief,” she whispered.

“Don’t be,” Charles said with another shake.  “There will be many Shang to kill in the future I think.”

Drew gave him a sad smile.

Jack felt the need to say something and smiled at her and Jasmine.  “I’ll tag one for you.”  He aimed a jaunty finger at them as he said it, and saw both of them fighting to keep from laughing at him.  Their mood lightened, even if only a little, he turned and ran off towards his Avenger, Betty beside him.  He frowned though as his mind returned to the Peloran and everything he’d learned today.

“What’s on your mind?” Betty asked as they stopped at the foot of the fighter and the ladder extruded out of its skin for him.

Jack looked between Aneerin and Hal as he pulled himself up the ladder.  Something was odd but he couldn’t put his finger on it.  “These people are strange.  Deeply strange.”

“True,” Betty answered with a smile.  “Far more alien than you thought from their faces?”

Jack blinked again and froze on the ladder for a moment.  “Yeah.  Alien.  I think that covers it.”  He aimed a long look at Aneerin and Hal, standing side by side like twins, watching the Americans board their fighters.  “Have you noticed they talk very much alike?” he finally asked.

“Well, they
have
been partners for over two thousand years,” Betty said with a smile and jumped up onto the console as she shrunk down to twenty centimeters in height.  “If we last that long, people will be saying the same about us.”

“God, I hope not,” Jack answered and dropped into his seat.  He winked at her surprised expression and locked his restraints in.  “I like my sexy baritone.”

Betty laughed, a clear soprano sound that tinkled off the inside of the cockpit.  Then she pursed her lips.  “Well, I could change,” she said, her voice dropping down into the baritone range.

Jack rubbed his chin and cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable with the discussion.  “I think I’ll take yah the way your momma made yah,” he finally said.

Her eyes opened wide, she slipped her hands behind her back, and gave him a pleased smile.  “Nice,” she said in her normal voice.  “Good save.”  She cocked her head to the side.  “And I am ready to fly…now.  Are you?”

A smile came to his face.  “Always.”  Jack leaned back in his seat, completely at ease again.

“Good,” Betty said and they floated up off the deck.

He looked out to see the other Cowboys lifting off as well, and a scan of the displays showed their information popping up, confirming their readiness to fight.  All but Drew and Jasmine of course.

“Cowboy Three to all Cowboys,” Charles broadcast.  “Let’s launch.  We’ll be holding the
Guardian Light’s
starboard flank against counter attack while assisting in offensive operations.”  A beam of light appeared on the displays, showing their route out of the hangar and around his flank.  “Follow my beam,” he ordered and accelerated out of the hangar.

Jack interlaced his fingers and cracked his knuckles as they accelerated out with the rest of the Cowboys.  The squadron turned hard towards the
Guardian Light’s
starboard side, pulling into position with a final burst of thruster fire.  He looked around at the small formation of six warships, scanning for the heavy fighters screening their flanks.  There weren’t very many of them.

Hal appeared on the comm. panel.  “We are approaching transit location.”  Another screen came to life, showing him the battle.  The British naval squadron and Fort London were surrounded, taking damage from all vectors, by nearly three times their number of Shang ships.  Fort London seemed fully operational and its impressive point defense was the only thing keeping the squadron alive as far as he could see.