Nothing In The 'Verse
Episode 08: Flyin' High Again
En route to Greenleaf.
Dani strolled from the bridge into the galley, smiling at the bustling activity coming from within. She loved dinnertime, the sounds and the smells and the feeling of family coming together. Usually breakfast was an individual affair, her girls usually just skipped the meal in lieu of extra sleep. And lunch was often a quick break in-between tasks.
But dinnertime - that's when we all come together as a group, she thought happily. She sat herself down at the head of the table, closest to the bridge, so she could keep an ear out for any alarm or notification. On her left were her three girls; Sara was talking animatedly with Cali about a marketplace on Persephone, and Rain was listening with amusement to Keith's rendition of boot camp antics.
Further down, Cory was bringing the last of the dishes to the table, sitting across from Maribelle and next to the boys, Junior and LT, who were bouncing in anticipation (they were always bouncin' about for some reason or other, Dani laughed to herself) of the meal Cory had assembled. Julie, too, had just sat down with a serving bowl of fresh greens from the hydroponics lab. Now THAT was a decent gorram investment, she thought with satisfaction.
Mike, of course, immediately dove into the dish of savory beef, brimming in some sort of peanut-like sauce that Dani could smell all the way at her end, and spooned it over his plate of rice. He then passed the bowl along, smiling contentedly.
The clanking of chopsticks against metal plates soon overrode most conversation, amidst murmurs of appreciation and thanks for the meal.
Eventually, Keith sat back with a sigh, rubbing his belly. Dani noticed that of the group, the veterans (herself, Keith, Mike and Cory) usually finished first. Some things're ingrained, she smiled, remembering meals wolfed down in between training sessions or missions. She was interrupted from her reminiscing by Keith's voice.
"So, Captain," he began, and Dani winced. Whenever he calls me Captain, trouble follows in some shape or fashion. "Now that we have you as a captive, waiting on that wonderful dessert my lovely wife made earlier…" he looked over at Jess, who grinned back.
Yep, I was right. I'm in trouble.
"I think," he continued in a rather over-dramatic fashion, "that it's time for a story. Specifically, from you, and furthermore, concerning your rather precise marksmanship with a firearm."
An immediate hush fell over the dinner table as every family member looked up at Dani expectantly. She frowned at her empty plate, but seeing no salvation forthcoming from her ingested meal, sighed and looked up. "Okay, I suppose now's as good a time as any. Gotta warn ya though, you might find some of it… disturbin', Keith."
Keith just raised his eyebrows. "Oh now, this I got to hear!"
Dani just smirked, "Not like ya think, smartass… So, where to begin…"
She leaned back in her chair thoughtfully. "Suppose I might as well start at the beginnin', good a place as any, an' get the disturbin' bit out of the way."
Dani looked around the table at her enraptured audience. Even Cali and the boys were sitting quietly and motionless. She smirked to herself. I suppose it's been a while since I divulged a tale from my past…
"Right," she started in. "So a lil' background first. I was part of an auxiliary air wing durin' the war, an', as should be obvious, I flew fer the Independents." She glanced over at Keith, who just stared back impassively. "We flew unarmed an' unarmored transports, usually fast an' light. Supplies to the front, injured to the rear. Oftentimes through heavy fire an' heavier air." She smiled grimly. "At the beginnin' we could keep the skies clear with our gunboats, but then the Alliance introduced the AFAS, an' we never regained air superiority. So things got a little dicey."
"AFAS?" Sara inquired.
"Sorry, yeah, stands fer Alliance Fast Attack Ship. Precursor to the more familiar ASREVs you see the Alliance patrollin' in nowadays. See, when the war started, the Independents owned the skies an' the Black with their gunboats. Take a standard mid-bulk transport, slap some heavy armor an' weapons on 'er, and you gots a powerful, relatively fast long range gunboat tha's cheap t'build an' operate. But then the Alliance brass got smart, an' at the Battle of Sturges we saw their answer. Small, fast ships, more nimble than the gunboats, fewer weapons but could run circles 'round us. It was after Sturges that the Independents stopped makin' gunboats, since they were a lost cause, an' instead started issuin' the small transports to our auxiliary wings. So those Shinigamis, as we called 'em, took to huntin' us."
She reached over and finished her tea. Rain reached over and retrieved the cup, taking it over to the stove for a refill. Dani murmured her thanks, then continued on.
"I'm gettin' to my point here now. So here we were, flyin' these light transports, mostly without air cover, an' these fast little hundans (bastards) on the lookout fer us. Attrition rate was high, an' not just 'cause so many boats were gettin' shot down." She looked sideways at Keith again, judging the impact of her next words. "Alliance troops were specifically trackin' crash sites fer our ships, an' executin' the pilots."
Keith didn't say anything, but he just nodded slightly. Thought he might've known, she thought without malice. Maribelle wasn't the only one to give a little gasp as the revelation, but she did speak up, "They killed the pilots who crash-landed? Why would they do that?"
Dani just shrugged. "No clue, really. Mebbe they didn' want us supplyin' the troops none. Mebbe they thought we were enemy combatants, which I s'pose we still were, bein' Browncoats an' all." She broke off as Keith leaned forward a bit.
"It was actually more the former, though the troops weren't told that," he rumbled quietly. "Regular troops were just told to kill any pilots they found, as they were all former gunboat pilots who used to blow up so many of their capital ships at the beginning of the war."
"Huh," Dani responded. "Well that explains some things. Anyways," she continued, "we were losin' pilots faster'n we were gettin' ships in from graveyards, donations, Rim-world mail routes, you name it. Eventually I didn' even have a copilot with me. Gettin' ahead of myself though."
Dani paused again, with a far-off look in her eyes. "So then, leadin' up to the Battle of Du-Khang, we had a Staff Sergeant named Valentine who decided to increase our chances. Cuddly name, but a mean wang ba (son of a bitch)," she smiled fondly. "He started trainin' us pilots in more'n the basic survival an' sidearm training we gots in the very rudimentary boot camp most of us went through. Diyu (hell)," she snorted softly, "most of the pilots that didn' start the war, they just tossed a flight suit at an' were pointed to a run-down freighter t'fly, ferget the boot camp.
"I didn' really hold to the Sarge's methods though, I mean sure, he meant well and all, but I was just too gorram skilled," she emphasized the last word with a good dose of sarcasm, "to get shot down. I was young, I was immortal, an' most of us pilots felt the same way…" She trailed off a bit, staring at the tea cup in her hands.
Keith cleared his throat gently. "So, hotshot, how many times you get shot down during the war?"
Dani looked up with a soft, wan smile. "Just the once…"
Independent Flight Base Gamma.
Right before the Battle of Du-Khang.
Dani headed across the field, her engineer Tom at her side, and trailed by the new kid who was to be her copilot. What was his name again? She knew she should remember, but soon as he'd get some experience he'd be given a boat of his own. James, John… Jory! That's it! She glanced over her shoulder, and saw the copilot in question was looking across the field at several pilots who were lined up, shooting their sidearms of all different makes and models, overseen by a hulking sergeant chewing on a cigar and shouting at them.
"Don' go give it any mind fer now, Jory," she smirked. "No chance you crash with me at the helm, get a few flights under yer belt an' then you c'n go to ol' Valentine fer some instruction. He'll cuss yer ear off, but he's a decent enuff guy."
They were moving closer past the firing range, and Tom stopped to pull on her sleeve. "Watch out Angel, the old man is walkin' over to ya right now with a fire in his eyes!"
Dani turned to indeed see the object of her earlier conversation striding over towards the small group. The other pilots were taking a break, reloading magazines and discussing their progress.
"Danielle!" the burly Staff Sergeant barked. Why's he always gotta call me that…
"It's Angel, Sarge. Pilot, remember? I go by my callsign," she responded with good humor.
"Not on the ground yer not, an' why ain't I seen yer hide on my line? Ya think one measly week is enuff to teach ya what ya need?"
Dani just leaned back a little from the verbal assault. Tom snickered behind her - he'd been going at least once a week in his spare time, enough to keep the old badger from coming down on his case.
"C'mon now Sarge, I gots the basics. An' you know I'm just too goramm pretty to get myself killed by those hundans (bastards)."
She didn't think it were possible for the old man to get any redder. She was quickly proven wrong in her assumption.
"Gorammit girl! Y'think this is some kinda game? You got talent, sure, all the more reason to make sure ya stay alive!"
Dani just smiled nervously. "Okay, okay Sarge, easy now. I'll try an' stop by before the week's out. Battle shouldn' last much longer anyways." She looked over her shoulder where the other flight crews were already entering their ships. "I gotta go now though, alright?"
Valentine just chewed on his cigar violently, giving her a stare that seemed to burn a hole in her. He finally just growled incoherently, and then stomped off again, muttering Mandarin curses. Dani resumed her trek to their Fenris-class light freighter, albeit more of a jog now. She'd just been assigned the ship when they arrived, in time for the action to start. It was a pretty ship, if a little beat-up. Below-average acceleration, but very nimble.
She climbed into the captain's seat on the left as Jory took the pilot's seat next to her, and Tom headed towards the rear. "Angel, why'd the sarge get so mad at you?" Jory inquired, starting up the pre-flight checklist.
Dani just chuckled, "Aw, it's just 'cause he cares about us pilots. Gets all sorts of hellfire mad when we lose one. But don't worry none kid," she looked over at him. "Yer in good hands."
Battle of Du-Khang.
"Ai ya, huai le (shit on my head)!" Dani exclaimed, sweat pouring down her face. "This little hundan (bastard) is good!"
"We're not losin' 'im!" Jory yelled.
Ever since they crossed the battlefield, every ship in their wing had come under attack. Several pyres sent smoke up in the distance, marking the crash sites of her wingmates. But she'd managed to get down with her supplies and pick up a number of wounded, now they were on the return trip and had picked up a very persistent Shinigami tail.
Dani had tried every trick in her book, but she was beginning to realize, with a sense of dread, that this pilot just might be better than her.
Rapidly scanning the terrain ahead, she saw the entrance to a canyon. Perfect.
"Hang on, we're not finished yet!" And she drove the bulky little Fenris forward, close enough to the ground that the backwash sent plumes of dust skyward. Cannon fire ripped into the ground on either side as the Shinigami closed in.
And then they were within the confines of the canyon, and Dani's lips peeled back in a manic sort of devil-may-care grin. "Let's see ya follow this, ya lil' gou se (shit)," and she hugged the bends as they flew past in a blur.
Jory, by this point, was clinging to his seat and screaming incoherently - might have been curses at Dani, might have been prayers to Buddha or God or any deity that would deem to listen. He cut off with a squawk as the end of the canyon suddenly loomed in front of them.
"Cao (fuck)!" Dani screamed, and hauled back on her controls.
They almost made it, but the underpowered Fenris just couldn't summon enough thrust. There was maybe a meter or so of cliff that took off the bottom of the transport, and it shuddered violently as the nose came down hard, the craft continuing to slide forward. A large boulder took out the right-side engine, and it slewed in a circle before coming to a rest.
The Shinigami warbird was less lucky, as the cloud of debris sent up by the Fenris' sudden climb skyward obscured the pilot's view of the cliff-face, and he plowed straight in before he could even react.
Dani sat in her seat, trying to get her breathing under control. She was alive. She made it.
She looked over towards Jory with a smile on her lips, but froze.
A large piece of the right-side wing, clipped by the boulder, had flown forward with the momentum of the ship. Since the Fenris had started to spin the debris clipped the right side of the cockpit. Jory, with a dazed look on his face, was staring at the remains of his arm, which was sheared off just below the elbow.
"Oh, sweet Buddha, Jory hang on…" Dani scrambled out of her seat, grabbing for the med kit behind her. With fumbling hands she tied off the tourniquet, and bandaged the gruesome wound, without protest from Jory.
"Okay, Jory? You still with me? I gots a shot of morphine, gonna give you some fer the pain, alright?"
Jory just looked up at her calmly. "Can't feel a thing, Angel. Don't hurt a bit. Ain't that odd?"
Dani just grimaced, and quickly injected his arm. "Yer in shock, kid. It's okay. Just sit there for a spell, we're gonna hafta get movin' soon, lemme see who else is left."
Patting him on the arm, she moved to the rear of the bridge and opened the door.
Where the open cargo bay had been, and a gangway leading back towards the engine room, instead there was now just a tangled mass of metal and rock. She sighed, realizing it was pointless to look for the wounded soldiers they had taken on. Deal with the guilt later. Engine room could've still been intact. Gotta find a way back.
She made her way to her left, and cranked the manual release to open the emergency hatch. It popped a little, and she leaned into it. She scrambled back, surprised as a hand suddenly wrapped around the doorframe, pulling back. She looked around in a panic. Did the Alliance already find the crash site? Where's my gun? Gorramit I left it behind my seat! But then, to her vast relief, Tom poked his grinning head in. "You need a hand, Angel?" he inquired cheekily.
"Oh sweet Buddha, Tom, you almost gave me a heart attack."
Tom climbed the rest of the way in. "Nah, if your flyin' couldn't make yer ticker stop, nothin' would. We gotta make tracks fast. Jory comin'?"
Dani led him to the bridge, where Jory had finally succumbed to unconsciousness. Tom whistled low.
"Okay, we gotta move though, mebbe make a stretcher?"
Dani retrieved her Ares pistol and holster, strapping it on. Tom, who had lost his during the crash, strapped Jory's gunbelt around his stocky frame and checked the magazine of the Colt sidearm. The two of them managed to haul Jory out of the wreck, and onto the ground, where they found plenty of scrap to craft a workable sled for the copilot.
Tom threw his muscular torso against the harness, and they started moving. "You got yer bearin's, Angel?"
"Yeah Tom, straight towards the sunset, we'll get back to base. Not sure where the battle lines are anymore, but we should avoid any fightin'. Just gotta worry 'bout Alliance search parties…" She trailed off, scanning the terrain around her. The canyon split the approach from where the search parties would likely come, but there were woods ahead of them.
She looked down at the twin tracks left by Tom's sled. We're not gonna make it like that, she realized dimly. That trail was going to be far too easy to track. Escape an' evasion. Remember my trainin'… She looked around, and spied a brush that had been torn up by the crash. She walked backwards from the ship, trying to smooth out the tracks left by the sled, catching up to the rest of her flight crew.
Jory had started muttering in a feverish state. He was starting to burn up, his body rebelling against the shock of the damage it had taken. They just reached the woods, when they heard a commotion from behind. Dani glanced at the source of the shouting, and saw purple-armored figures crawling around the wreckage of the Fenris.
"Move!" she hissed at Tom, who was starting to struggle in the wooded terrain.
"Can't move any faster none…" he panted. Dani took over for awhile to give him a break, but her lanky frame, though muscular, couldn't get the same leverage and they moved at an even slower pace.
About a half hour in, Dani had to stop to give her aching shoulders a rest. She listened as a sound caught her attention at the edge of her awareness.
Gorram soldiers found the trail. Must be in the woods. She looked up at Tom, who was standing by with the pistol in his hand. He nodded sadly. "Yeah, heard 'em awhile back. Nothin' we can do but keep movin'."
Dani looked to the ground angrily. This was all her fault, if she could have flown better or taken a different route… Or listened to the Sarge an' taken his survival classes more seriously, or become a better shot with that gun on yer waist, murmured a little voice in her head. It sounded a lot like Beth, which meant it was the conscience she should have been listening to from the start.
I'm sorry baby, I know I promised to come back, but I gotta make this right…
"Right," she said decisively, standing up. "Tom, take the sled and keep pushin' on. You c'n make better speed than me anyways. C'n still see the sunlight through the woods, just keep headin' in the direction of the sunset. I'll hang back and buy y'all some time."
"What?" Tom almost shouted, then remembering the danger they were in, brought his tone back down to a harsh whisper. "No way am I lettin' you do that, girl."
Dani ignored the jibe, and instead fixed him with a steely gaze. "I'm still the Capt'n. Now git."
Tom stood there for a second or two, at a loss for words. Then he solemnly shook her hand, shouldered the harness, and moved out as quickly as he could.
Taking a deep breath, Dani checked her Ares, clicked the safety off, and moved forward as silently as possible, looking for a likely ambush spot. Her knees felt weak as she considered her own mortality. I feel like I'm invincible up there, but down on the ground… gorram useless. She shook off the negative feelings, and instead focused on what was important, to what was waiting for her back home. Beth an' the girls. I will make it back to 'em. I made an oath, nothin' in the 'Verse is gonna keep me away… not 'bout to let some purple-bellies make me into a liar…
She stopped at a likely junction of boulders and logs, and found a spot to overlook the trail they left behind. Soon enough, a trio of Alliance soldiers crept forward, rifles at the ready, searching the ground in front of them.
Steady… steady… squeeze… She took careful aim at the lead soldier and took her shot.
She missed.
"Cao (fuck)!" she swore, as the three opened up near her hiding place. She curled into a ball and covered her head, sobbing quietly. Gotta move, gotta move, they'll be flankin' me… But she found herself unable to uncurl her limbs. She desperately wanted to survive, but was almost overwhelmed by the futility of it all.
Then she saw the figure of a soldier in purple body armor poke his helmet into her field of vision. Sure enough they had worked quickly to flank her position. She brought her pistol up and fired wildly, not scoring a single hit but causing him to duck back down.
The fire from in front picked up again, short bursts to keep her pinned down. She fumbled at her magazine release, and looked at her ejected magazine. Four shots left. Was she brave enough to save the last one for herself? She heard stories of what the purple-bellies did to captured pilots before executing them. Guess I'll find out if the stories're true, she thought despondently, 'cause I'm not sure I c'n bring myself to commit suicide…
At the end of her tether, she thought she might have been hallucinating when she heard the sharp, short chatter of the Alliance rifles answered by a deeper bark of automatic fire. That went on for a few seconds, and then… silence.
"Hey there girl," a deep voice called out. "All clear, you c'n come on out now."
She poked her head up… and kept looking on up, up, up to the towering figure standing above her. He wore Browncoat colors, carried a short-barreled carbine in his massive paws, and sported a huge, bushy beard. It twitched like a thing alive as he chuckled.
"Relax, girl. We're on the same side. Name's Montgomery, Independent commando corps. But you c'n call me Monty." He offered her a hand.
She reached up hesitantly, his large grip dwarfing her own. As tall as she was, he still stood a good few centimeters over her. "Monty, I… thank you. You saved my life," she whispered wonderingly.
She looked around and saw several other Browncoats, all dressed in subtle colors, as well as the ubiquitous coats that they derived their name from. They carried a variety of armament, and looked like they were ready to get back to the fighting.
Turning back to Monty, Dani got her wits back about her. "We crashed a few klicks beyond the woods. The purple bellies gots search teams out. I sent my engineer ahead with my wounded copilot." She stopped then, unsure of what to do or say next.
Monty just grinned, and gave her a slap on the back that almost knocked her off the boulder. "Don' you worry 'bout a thing, lil' miss. We'll take care of yer pursuers, you just keep going. Med ship pilot?" he inquired.
"That's right," she answered with a wan smile, trying to shake off the trauma of the last few minutes. "Auxiliary wing."
"Alright then, you keep up the good work an' get back in the air. Don' let a lil' crash hold you back none!"
Dani smiled back, regaining more confidence by the second. "I'll be fine Monty. Y'all take care, an' thanks again."
Monty and the rest of his unit waved their goodbyes, and melted back into the forest ahead, searching for more prey. Fer such a large sasquatch of a man, he sure moves stealthy.
An hour later, Dani had arrived back at the base. Tom had also made it back, and Jory received the medical attention he needed, though for him, the war was over. The fight raged on, and she would have a new ship to fly, a Shu Fu light transport with a bit more power than the Fenris. The wing commander insisted she take at least a day to recover from her ordeal before she was allowed to fly again.
Back at her barracks, Dani sat on the edge of her cot, staring at the wall. She looked down at the gun in her hands. Moving slowly yet determinedly, she holstered her gun and walked outside to where Staff Sergeant Valentine was holding his usual firing lessons. She walked up to him, without saying a word. Valentine just looked at her for a beat, nodded, then reached over and handed her a box of ammo.
"Let's get started," he grated out around his ever-present chewed-up cigar.
En route to Greenleaf.
Dani finished her tale, and sipped her tepid tea. She had finished the rice pudding Jess had served earlier. The rest of the family sat very still, absorbing her words, until Keith leaned back and broke the silence. "Took his lessons to heart, eh?"
She nodded bemusedly. "Spent every gorram minute of downtime on the firin' line. Got to be the best shot he'd ever laid eyes on. Made him proud. 'Least, I hope I did."
"What happened to the sergeant?" asked Julie.
Dani sighed. "He was transferred durin' the Battle of Serenity Valley. Far as I know, he never left Hera."
She stood up, and looked around with a smile. "Alright folks, you got yer story, gettin' late an' we all still got chores an' the like to finish up. I'll be on the bridge."
As she turned to leave, the murmurs of conversation picked up again. Keith, though, just sat at his chair and stared off into space thoughtfully.
Well, mebbe we understand each other a lil' better now, she mused, heading towards the bridge. Mebbe the tale was worth the price of 'membering.
She settled into her chair, leaned back, and reminisced of lessons spent under the harsh tutelage of a man called Valentine, who she came to view as a father-figure.
NOTES: Title track by the immortal Ozzie.