When the firing stopped, I figured they'd made it out of range. If we'd hit twelve battleships all at once, and a few hundred fighters was all they had left after, I wondered why we needed fighters at all. And of course, the titans didn’t. And very obviously didn’t.

  I looked hard at those fighters.

  "Permission for 266 to take the remaining fighters," I said, without really thinking.

  "Negative," said Eagle.

  "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Falcon.

  "I believe I am sir."

  "266 requests permission to engage," said Falcon.

  There was a pause.

  "I recommend a go," said Vulture.

  "Granted," said Eagle.

  The channel changed to the squadron one.

  "Falcon has squadron control," said Vulture, who was once again on Eagle's wing. "Dreamwalker has the lead. Flights to follow in fifteen second intervals. Leads control the strafe. AI's will explain it to you as A flight goes first. Let's show the other squadrons how the lawn mower really works."

  The channel changed down to flight level.

  "Move us Dreamwalker," said Falcon, now in command. I pushed the slider to full, and the others matched me. "We go right through the middle at top speed. As soon as Dreamwalker's strafe light comes on, one shoots to the front, two shoots left, three shoots right, and four takes what's left. Mind up and down, but keep your side. The strafe doesn’t come off until we get to the other side, or we start getting hit from behind hard enough to need to break. Let's do this."

  "Doing it!" I yelled.

  "Ouch," said Rockmonster, but I could hear the laugh behind it.

  It took only minutes for us to catch up to the rear elements, and instead of turning to engage us, they started juking around to make shooting at them more difficult.

  "A short plough before we mow?"

  "Agreed," said Falcon.

  Almost as one, we opened up on targets in front of each of us, and started cutting a way into the forest, juking to miss the worse of the debris we created. As the first ships behind us began to try and fire at us, I pressed the strafe button.

  "Mowing."

  With any direction to choose from, I started picking targets ahead of us, and quickly changed from full salvos to firing each group of four guns in gatling mode, hosing across the whole front area in a sort of flattened circle. I fired IR missiles when there were gaps in my firing, and torpedoes when I could. I quickly ran out of both.

  To both sides of me, ships were being destroyed as well, and I could see red dots going out behind us as Watershed fired to the rear at what we missed.

  "Warn me if anyone's shields get too low," I said to Jane.

  "Confirmed."

  Fifteen seconds behind us, and now in the battle as well, B flight had come in slightly above the main level, and were firing down more often than not. I could see C flight angling down towards the underside, to do the same and firing up. The other two were angling to each side to catch the stragglers left behind.

  I continued targeting and firing, noticing missiles coming past me from Falcon. Sometimes they completed the kill, and sometimes they set up mine.

  We were almost through when Jane flashed up Rockmonster's shield levels.

  "About to break up," I cried.

  The fighters all snapped back to the direction mine was pointing in, and the strafe indicators snapped off.

  I pulled us up and out of the line of what was left of the forward element of the enemy fighters, continuing to fire until there was nothing left to fire at. Once above the whole mess, I turned us back towards Orion, well out of the way of the other flights, who between them weren't leaving anything intact behind them.

  I checked all our shield levels and found them almost critical, but improving. I don’t think it had been enemy fire which was our main problem, but our inability to juke while in strafe. So most of the shield hits had been from debris ahead of each of us.

  Channels changed, and I heard the wing talking. Most of it was either combat chatter, or 'how the fuck did they do that?' talk.

  "Nicely done A flight," said Eagle. "Land and re-arm. I think you've time before the next phase of this kicks off."

  "Roger that," said Falcon. "All 266 flights RTB when you finish your runs. Dreamweaver, let's get some refreshments."

  "Make mine a double," I joked, but slowed us down to cruising speed, and headed for Orion, who I now saw had pulled away from the debris field enough to give us a safe vector on the flight deck.

  By the time we were half way back, all four other flights were lined up behind us, and we hadn't lost anyone.

  I checked again.

  Not a single fighter was missing.

  Twenty Eight

  Orion had multiple scars across her front.

  One of them had missed the bridge by very little. But while some of the point defense positions top and bottom had been wiped away, her main armament seemed to be mainly intact.

  There wasn’t much time to observe before the front of the ship became a huge wall above us, and then we were inside the flight deck and heading towards our elevator.

  Once down on the maintenance deck, the cargo droids rearmed us.

  "Do we have time to pee?" asked Rockmonster.

  "You should have gone before we left," laughed someone.

  "I was asleep until just before we launched."

  Actually now she mentioned it, I felt the need as well.

  No order was given, but our birds stopped in line with our tubes, but very close to our squadron ready room. The cockpit canopy popped, and stairs rolled up next to us. I was down the stairs at the run, but Rockmonster beat me in the door. I beat her back out again, in spite of stopping for a bottle of water.

  "You're going to have to explain that standing thing," she yelled after me.

  Back in the cockpit, I slurped a little water to moisten my mouth, and stuck the bottle in the holder. Within a minute, I was back in the tube and ready to launch.

  In space, we found very little had changed, other than Fearless was now out here as well, with our two corvettes and their wing-mates in formation with her. Jane took the squadron into our designated position.

  It looked like a standoff was in progress. Orion was still just off the jump point, more or less blocking any access to it from this side. In the distance, was a mass of Trixone ships, and a cloud of fighters. I was surprised to see Orion's shields were still not fully up. But given how big she was, and she'd lost them completely, they were always going to take time to regenerate.

  The biggest surprise to me was the plants sitting out there doing nothing.

  "Why haven't they attacked?" I asked generally.

  "Shit scared of Orion," laughed someone.

  "Maybe they lost their admiral," suggested someone else, which was an astute observation I thought.

  "Why would they?" asked Rockmonster, meaning I assumed, why would they attack at all.

  "Orion's shields were down," said Eagle. "I was wondering the same thing. From there, they can't tell if her turrets will fire or not, but with no shields, they had the best possible time to get missiles through her hull."

  "Yeah," I agreed.

  "Maybe they are scared?" suggested the same person who'd said it before.

  "Could be," said Falcon. "They've met all the titans now, so maybe they have a new respect for them."

  "Or not," said Eagle.

  The fleet was moving now, forming up into a single formation, with fighters filling the gaps. They had battleships, but only enough for their fighters to outnumber us two to one. The rest were cruisers and destroyers.

  "What are we waiting for?" asked Watershed.

  "An invitation," said Vulture. "What else?"

  The fleet vanished behind a ripple of missile fire. Orion responded with twice the volume, followed by mosquitoes ready for the incoming.

  "Good enough?" asked someone.

  "I'd call that invitation offered, and accepted," said Eagle.

  "What now?" asked someone.

  "How about we go octopus on their arse?" I said.

  "Plants have arses?" asked Chaos.

  "Octopus only have eight tentacles," said Eagle.

  "Okay, fine. Mutant octopus then."

  There was a titter of laughter. We effectively had twelve squadrons.

  "Eagle to Orion. Permission to go mutant octopus."

  "Orion to Eagle." It sounded like the admiral himself. "Permission granted."

  Almost immediately, a heading appeared on my HUD, sending 266 up to be high squadron. I waited a few seconds, and altered heading to comply, the rest of the squadron falling in behind. Within a minute, we did look like an octopus, with each squadron being a tentacle, and Orion being the main body.

  Missiles crossed, and more were fired on both sides, but Orion's point defenses kept them away from all of us successfully. The plant fighters split up, heading for each squadron, so by the time we arrived in firing range, we each had the equivalent of several squadrons each to deal with, leaving the center free for Orion to fire on the fleet itself.

  Without saying anything, I pointed us directly at the lead tree coming at us, and after it exploded from multiple torpedo hits, I hit strafe, and began firing at the next tree behind and to the side of it. Jane took back control after three seconds, and A-flight realigned, and did it again. With the flights all lined up behind us, I wasn’t worried about anything getting on our tails, just making sure we slashed a path through what was ahead.

  By the time the enemy fighters were debris, so was their fleet. With half an eye on what Orion was doing, I'd been amazed at the sheer firepower heading at the plant ships, and just how fast they vanished. And once again, I was sure none of us fighter squadrons had even been needed. All the same, we were learning good fighting skills. I just wasn’t sure fighter pilots were even needed in this fight.

  With the enemy fleet gone, we received vectors in preparation for landing, starting with several squadrons with actual battle damage. We hadn't lost any ships, but we hadn't come out unscathed either. 266 was the last to enter the flight deck, and by the time our birds were drawn up near our ready room, I was ready to drop.

  The one thing no-one ever said was just how tiring the concentration of space combat was. To survive, you had to be totally in the zone, your awareness covering your HUD, what was in front, what was behind, what your wingman was doing, what the enemy nearest were doing, and the whole thing changed every second. It was exhausting, and we'd done it twice today.

  About to head for my rooms, I was given an arrow to the main mess. With the rest of my flight in the car with me, I refrained from groaning, and followed them out into what was a noisy room now. I stood there in the doorway, apparently last one in, and debated turning around and leaving them too it.

  Before I could, Chaos danced across to me, grabbed me by the hand, and pulled me towards where Eagle, Vulture, Falcon, and Hawke were now clinking tankards.

  "Sir," said Kat at my elbow, and a glass was put into my other hand.

  "Thanks," I murmured, and downed most of it in one go.

  The taste was vaguely raspberry, and I felt a jolt of caffeine flow through me. Tiredness fell away, to be replaced with a calmness which still wanted to seek out silence. The empty glass was replaced by a tankard, and I found myself clinking with my superiors.

  The kill board updated, and there was a movement over to it, with especially the less experienced pilots wanting to see how they'd done. I shook my head, and pulled it up as a hollo only I could see.

  The top of the board had shifted, with 266 Excalibur pilots at the top after our two corvette flying leaders. I was immediately below them now, as the highest Brawler pilot. My kill score was now forty five. When I checked it, I'd gone from thirteen to forty in the first battle, and to forty five in the second.

  The others around me had seen the same thing, and congratulations involved more tankard clinking, and refills. After the first refill, I turned the alcohol suppressor back on, not wanting to get drunk, although it seemed others were not concerned about this at all.

  After the second refill, I started heading towards a table for food, and found Chaos was still holding onto my other hand. Or had grabbed it again, I wasn’t sure. She followed after me, a huge grin on her face, and sat next to me at the first table with no-one at it. I had to look at her hand, then her face, then her hand, to get her to let go.

  Kat put food down in front of us before anything was said, and I started wolfing down whatever it was, causing her to start eating as well. But the grin didn’t leave her face.

  "What?" I finally said, when I put my cutlery down on my empty plate.

  "Plants have arses?"

  Twenty Nine

  When I woke up it was black.

  The night before was hazy, but I’d obviously shifted my suit back to a belt before going to sleep. So it wasn’t so much dark, as I was blind at the moment. The time popped up when I thought about it, and I found it was two hours before training time. I lay there, wondering why I was awake so early.

  The sound of rustling bed linen came from next to me, and I turned my head automatically, but of course could see nothing.

  "Who's there?" I asked the black.

  There was a chuckle from right next to me.

  "Guess," said a husky voice.

  "Chaos?"

  "Not in here silly. Here you call me Grace."

  "What are you…"

  Memories came flooding back. After eating, and a fair bit more drinking, she'd followed me home. I'd had no idea you could do a strip tease in the suit, and my own was feeling tighter than normal by the time she was down to lacy briefs and a barely there matching top. When those came off, there was a definite discomfort happening in my suit.

  She'd pulled me down after her on the bed, and after running hands over various parts of my suit, had told me to shift it back to a belt. Of course if I did that, I’d be blind. If I didn’t, we could still do things, but it wouldn’t really be skin to skin. Not having been in this sort of position since I’d first received a suit, in fact since I'd lost my sight, I had to stop her kissing me, and lay out the options. So to speak.

  She'd opted for skin immediately, but before I shifted, she'd rolled me over onto my back. With no suit on I'd felt a lot more comfortable immediately, but was now completely blind. It came down to trust, and I simply went with it, letting her do whatever she wanted. Which was rather a lot.

  Not knowing when and where she was going to touch me, or with what, turned out to be a huge turn on. Apparently for both of us. I'd had a few encounters during my cadet time, so wasn’t totally clueless, but I’d never found any interest in being blindfolded before. Being blind on the other hand, while obviously missing out on the sights, brought touch into its own, and I made as much use of whatever touch I could manage as I could. Or put it another way, I let my fingers do my seeing.

  It was definitely a unique experience, and sated, we both went to sleep. Or at least I did, and I was assuming she did as well.

  "Oh," I concluded, and shifted back into my flight suit.

  Vision returned, with the lights comfortably low but on, and I found her lying naked next to me, grinning madly.

  "Hi," I said.

  "Hi yourself."

  "You're still here."

  "Apparently."

  We made eye mouth contact a few times, before finally kissing. When I came back up for air a while later, I went looking for something more appropriate to wear in the suit clothes menu, and found a pair of basic shorts.

  "That’s better," she murmured, after I shifted into them, and had run a hand across my chest. "But…"

  "Yeah but. Now I'm blind again."

  I checked the clothing menus again, and this time found an all leather outfit, including a full head covering. After I shifted into it, she started laughing. I dived back into the menu, and found the manual controls for the orifice openings. A moment later, I was hanging out, so to speak.

  She squealed, and this time I got to see the whole show, including all angles from the cams in the room.

  It could be truly said, I rode Chaos. Or you could even say, it was chaos in leather.

  With training time approaching, we finally dragged ourselves into the shower, and shifted into a belt, once again blind, she washed me, and I felt around in the black to wash her. She led me out, and wiped me dry, after which I shifted back into my flight suit, and being able to see again, wiped her down as well. She donned underwear from a dispenser I didn’t even know was there, shifted into uniform, and with minutes to spare, we both took separate travel cars to our respective training areas.

  I found the team ready for their run, but BA pointed me into the gym instead. She was back, not even panting or even looking sweaty, just before I finished my routine, and after I grabbed a quick drink, she took me through into the armoury. When I came out, I had various guns holstered all over me.

  The remainder of training time was taken up on the various gun ranges, where she tested me on everything including a new tiger and roo stunner handgun, the plant gatling rifle I’d used the day before, and several distance rifles, including a sniper.

  I certainly wasn’t up to sniper standard, but BA seemed happy enough with my performance.

  Over breakfast with the team, we talked about the ground action the day before, and the need for a much larger and faster firing gun for taking on massed plants. Essentially, we needed the firepower of a quad point defense turret, but hand held. Jane was there as well, listening to the discussion, but not contributing to it herself.

  In the end we decided we needed two versions. One for combat suit use, and one for normal use. The latter obviously would have to be lighter, and be limited in how long the charge would last. As was explained to me, the combat suits provided charge for the guns, so they could fire for as long as the suits retained charge themselves. Jane said nothing, but left when we all did.

  My duty roster showed 266 was on the dawn patrol still, so I had a small window to myself, and went back to my rooms. Kat was there, and the room didn’t look like anyone had been in it the night before. I sat in an easy chair.

 

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