Of Hearts And Stars (Classic Editon) (The Cadet Starship Chronicles) (18 page)

Allie sighed with relief and said “Good job Swift. Now all we have to do is notify command and go home.” Yet again Swift's risky behavior failed to amount to tragedy, she thought.

“
I agree. Contact Mr. Method and give him the basics. I'll do a more detailed report later.”

As the president of the ESC program, Mr. Method performs many duties at Arbalest Solar Academy. Among these duties he acts as a liaison between ESCs and the imperial military.

“
Alright.” Allie said “Make your way to the teleporter room so we can transfer you back and go home.”

“
Nope.” Swift said promptly.

“
Then I'll send Revy and Jay-”

“
No. It's too dangerous. Wrath can protect me, but not all three of us at once. At least not effectively.”

“
This isn't a good idea. You don't know what lies ahead; they could have more than laser weaponry.” she warned him.

“
Nah. It's not like they have a tank or anything.”

Swift ended the link and continued to make his way towards the hangar bay. He stopped just outside of the entrance and dropped to a crouch to peek around the corner. A surprised rebel soldier, who had been waiting in ambush, looked down at Swift. He moved to attack, but Swift was quicker and knocked him off of his feet and onto his back with an uppercut square to the jaw. The soldier on the other side of the entrance tried to grab Swift, who stepped away and threw a hook. The soldier dodged this and put his hands up. They squared off, one circling the other. Swift blocked the soldier's jab and countered with a punch to the ribs. The soldier took a couple steps back and drew his laser pistol.

Swift said, cracking his knuckles “Ahhh. Just when it was getting good.” and began to approach the soldier. Click click, pew pew. Wrath had inadvertently disabled this weapon as well. Swift knocked the soldier out cold with a solid punch and peered into the hangar bay. He found it odd that it was so empty.

“
Looks kinda shady...” he said and walked in.

-
37
-

Daschair greeted him from an overhead walkway “I've gotta say that I'm impressed kid! Really! The rebellion could use more people like you!” he said, clapping slowly as if actually applauding Swift's progress.

“
Like I'd ever join your cause! And just what do you mean more people like you?” Swift asked.

It could have been a simple comment, but the soldiers he had fought were pretty mediocre at best. Were there hidden super soldiers of some sort, perhaps a trump card that this clown had hidden up his sleeve?

“
You'll have to beat it out of me kid!” Daschair taunted.

Swift made a run towards the walkway. He then tried to use Wrath to enhance his jump, but it wasn't enough. His fingers had barely grazed the bottom of the walkway before he fell back onto the deck below.

Daschair watched this and roared with hideous laughter “You should have drank more milk kid, then maybe you'd be tall enough to reach me!” he shouted.

Swift tried again, but this time he leaped off of two nearby cargo crates to boost himself higher. He caught the handrail and hoisted himself over it and onto the walkway.

“
Oh sh-” Daschair began to shout, but never had the chance to finish. Swift used Wrath to propel himself forward, quickly gliding across the distance, punching Daschair with enough force to send him flying across the walkway.

Swift stood over him with a fist cocked back and said “Jigs up clown. Spit it out!”

Daschair weakly spit out a couple of teeth.

“
Well...no.” Swift said “Not literally you see.”

“
Fool! You should have joined us! Now you die!”

For the sake of reading comprehension, the words you just read do not reflect the slurring or whistling, caused by Daschair's loss of teeth, that Swift was now laughing at.

“
You'll see!” Daschair threatened as he took out a small device and pressed the big red button on the front of it. Swift laughed even harder.

“
No way man. I bet your bark is worse than your bite! You think that big red button is going to gum up my works? To tell ya the tooth, I don't think so!”

While Swift had been making one corny joke after another, a low rumble began to fill the hangar bay. The sound began to grow so much in volume and intensity that Swift had stopped laughing and actually began to worry. Just a bit. Then the rumbling stopped and the hangar bay was enveloped in a tense silence.

Swift shrugged and said “Man whatev-” but was cut off by several loud, metallic thuds. He watched the floor below closely, waiting to see what this new threat could be. When he saw the frighteningly huge muzzle of a plasma cannon, he understood instantly what came next. Wasting no time Swift rushed a burst of energy into his fist and collapsed the entire walkway with a single stroke of his fist. Both Swift and Daschair fell not a second too soon, as a plasma blast exploded into the wall overhead where they had just been; the plasma residue having been so hot that it caused the reinforced steel of the ship's wall to melt like butter. Swift freed himself of the walkway debris and frantically pinched at his collar, looking for his comlink.

“
Tank! Walking tank!” Swift shouted to his crew.

Allie quickly responded to his distress call and asked “Model?”

Swift replied “Looks like a WTX. I wanna say it's the 9800GT.”

Allies heart sunk as she punched in the search for the tank model. She was aware as well as Swift, a single student versus any model of walking tank was a dire situation. “The WTX-9800GT has heavy firepower and impressive durability due to it being a bipedal model with forward facing legs and higher power capacity; allowing it to carry additional weapons while still enabling it to have advanced targeting and sensory technology. It lacks shielding however, and requires a pilot to function.” she read. Allie added in a sing song voice “It's not like they have a tank or anything.”

“
Arrrgh!” Swift growled into his comlink.

“
Okay grumpy pants, calm down, take a deep breath and...RUN! We'll transfer you as soon as you can reach the teleporter room.” Allie closed the link with Swift and rerouted the signal to Jay in LaCroix's teleporter room.

“
Jay start pre-staging a transfer and have Felix prepare Pol's Voice.”

Back in the hangar bay Swift sprinted towards the exit, his speed enhanced by Wrath. Just then a mini rocket raced by; just missing him and colliding with the exit. Swift instinctively shielded himself with Wrath, but was knocked back and onto the deck by the explosion. He rolled over and looked up at the walking tank, which was now preparing for another attack. He squeezed his comlink.

“
I'm trapped. The WT caved in the exit.”

Allie was up in a flash and moved to the pilot's seat while issuing commands to the crew “Revy go down to our loading bay, port side, and position yourself in front of the loading bay doors with Nine Breaker ready.” she said “Gin take control of the ship's weapons. Charge the cannons to breach and rotate Pol's Voice ninety degrees to face port side. I'll bring us around.”

Swift was back on his feet and had just tumbled away from the walking tank's latest attack when Allie's voice came over the comlink “Swift you just need to hold on for a few minutes! We're coming to help!” she said, but Swift didn't have time to respond.

The walking tank had discarded it's plasma cannon, and now aimed a massive laser rifle at Swift. A high pitched whine issued from the chamber of the rifle followed by the boom of
discharged electrons. Swift attempted to use the energy stored in Wrath to deflect the shot, and a catastrophic shriek filled the hangar as both energies collided, lighting arcing and flashing before the shot was deflected up and away. Sparks rained down from the collapsing ceiling and debris crashed onto the deck around them. It took some effort for Swift catch his breath.
He had never parried an attack of that magnitude before,
and found it took a considerable amount of stamina to do so. On top of that, t
his had been the first time that Swift had used Wrath in a real combat scenario
. Just then the lights in
the hangar bay began to flicker and Swift got an idea.

-
38
-

The walking tank pilot paused from astonishment as Swift deflected his shot. Once he regained his wits he fired off a three shot burst, but Swift carefully dodged these and proceeded to stop once more to regain his strength. Spotting a sign of weakness from his opponent, the pilot switched his rifle to fully automatic; intending to overwhelm him with sheer attack speed. Swift began to move in sync with the flickering of the lights, making sure to never be in the same general area once they came back on. This helped give off the illusion that Swift was warping around the hangar bay. The pilot would not fooled by such an amateurish tactic however, and turned on the walking tank's thermal sensors to track him. A little darkness wouldn't turn this fight around.

Yet Swift wasn't using the darkness to hide, but to flank; the use of Wrath for bursts of speed leaving confusing imprints on the thermal sensors. Once he was close enough, Swift made a zigzag dash towards the walking tank, jumped, and landed on it's chest. The last recorded image on the thermal sensors was the orange silhouette of a young man pulling back a fist.

With the sensors smashed and disabled, Swift dropped back to the deck and rolled to avoid the walking tank's fist. The pilot, now furious that Swift outsmarted him, had to rely on what he could see through a viewing pane hidden on the front of the walking tank. In an attempt to partially restore his vision the pilot threw down emergency flares, and Swift appeared as if he were a vengeful spirit from a horror movie as his movements lagged between light, darkness; in and out of the red light of the flares.

Swift moved in close again and struck a mighty blow to the side of the walking tank's leg, causing a crunching noise much like a sledge hammer bashing a car; the blue light from Wrath
shining in bright contrast with the dim red light of the flares. The pilot, unable use his rifle at close range, swiped a heavy metal hand at Swift. Swift was able to dodge the attack, and turned to assault the same leg once more.
He threw another punch, but as he used Wrath more and more, the punches decreased in intensity. His fist crashed upward into the walking tank's knee joint with uncanny accuracy, leaving it severely damaged.
The pilot flew into a frenzy of melee attacks, and finally connected with Swift, sending him flying through the air. Having depended on Wrath so much, the weak shield he put up was all Swift could do to prevent his bones from shattering. He crawled behind a pile of overturned cargo crates, the muscles in his torso screaming in agony. The walking tank's mobility was greatly afflicted by Swift's assault, and the pilot found
himself unable to position the WT to fire on Swift's exact location. Since 9800GT's lacked the free pivoting torso units of other models, the pilot had to improvise by having the walking tank hold the rifle sideways in it's hands and
activating the proximity sensors. The initial shots were wide due to the awkward position of the rifle and lack of actual sight, but soon began to close in. The pilot was adjusting his aim based off the trajectory of his shots, where they actually landed, and the
location of his target. It was only a matter of time until he blew those crates away and Swift with them.

Things look incredibly bad, he thought, as he lay on the deck, trying to think and gather strength quickly. It would have been a good idea to not attack the walking tank and just wait for backup. It probably would have been a cool idea not to jump into dangerous fights period. Hell it would have been ninety nine swag if he were a normal student. Still that's pretty boring if he thought about it. And if he wasn't out fist fighting big friggin' robots, then just who would? Not Gin. Not yet at least.

The rifle blasts were even closer now, and it was if he could feel the heat from each one crashing into the deck around the crates. Swift closed his eyes, and then it came. The inevitable explosion that meant the crates were now destroyed and that he was fully exposed. Disintegration came next, naturally, and Swift had no idea how that felt. At least it will be quick, he thought.

Only it didn't come. He opened his eyes and the crates were still there. Swift rolled to a kneeling position, moving to take a peek. Black smoke funneled from a gaping hole in the hull of the ship. He could feel the vacuum of space pulling as the oxygen field engaged and the atmosphere stabilized. The walking
tank's balance had shifted, which caused further damage to it's leg, and the pilot had to temporary halt his attack as he struggled to keep upright. Swift stood up and could now see LaCroix clearly through the hole in the hull; Pol's Voice pointing directly at him and the walking tank.