Interlude Five: Lost Hope

            The fighters came screaming out of the sky, their engines howling, their guns blazing. The skies were filled with the star-shaped ships that came out of nowhere. They rained destruction down on a ravine in the Dragon's Tooth. It seemed to be an ordinary ravine, but closer inspection revealed a metal structure in the center. Emergency klaxons rang and people ran through the cavern in panic.

            Support beams came crashing down as machinegun fire punctured them, crushing people and equipment alike. The shells rained down in a seemingly endless stream, deforming and shredding armor plates.

            Tom woke to the first roar of the defense guns. After a moment of disorientation, his eyes widened and he ran out of his cabin. What he saw outside was a carnage. Guild fighters were strafing the area, and the facilities were on flame. It was a scene that brought up memories he had hoped to forget, memories that had started this crusade. He started running towards his ship's berth.

            The CHULAINN was on fire. Her hull had been punctured in several places and she was leaning on her port side. Through the holes in her fuselage he could see fires raging, silhouetting the inside of the vessel agains the night sky of the Dragon's Tooth. He ran for his ship, even as Guild fighters streaked down from the sky, raking fire across their hideout. As he ran past burning barracks and depots, he rounded the stern of the CHULAINN, and the second berth came into view.

            The berth that was yet incomplete, and held their newest project. Tom climbed the rungs to the CHULAINN's entry hatch and dropped into the corridor. He broke into a run for the bridge.

            When he reached the bridge, Tom dodged out of the way of a piece of burning debris. The assault from the Guild squadron had struck the bridge straight on, turning the once-pristine command center of the battleship into a burning inferno. Despite the destruction, people were still manning the posts at helm, observation and weapon coordination. "Call everyone aboard! Emergency evacuation, we're leaving!" Tom shouted. "Detach docking clamps and prepare to leave!"

            The crew didn't pause, but acknowledged the order. Then, an engineer ran up to Tom. "We can't disengage the clamps! They're stuck, I think they were damaged in the attack," he told him. Tom swore. "All right, get the people on board and grab as many supplies as you can get. I'll take care of the docking clamps."

            Tom mentally swore. Of all times... He climbed the ladder out of the ship and pushed his way through the people streaming towards the gunship that was moored – no, trapped – in the dock. Tom glanced behind him as he heard a screeching sound and instictively ducked and leapt out of the way as a Guild fighter came on, strafing the ground. It landed in front of him with a thud and oriented itself.

            Drawing his sidearm, Tom ducked for cover as the star-shaped fighter opened up on him with a hail of machine gun bullets, riddling the support beam he was hiding behind. The hailstorm of bullets didn't subside, and the beam slowly started to bend and twist as the impacts deformed it. How the heck he was going to get past that he had no clue. Suddenly, thunder rolled through the cave and a support beam came crashing down on the fighter. Tom smiled internally. Just my luck they don't care about collateral damage, he thought.

            When he rounded the side of his ship, he saw why the docking clamps refused to open. The metal was twisted and scorched from impacts an fires, bending them out of shape. The twisted metal held on to the CHULAINN as securely as before, but with no hope of release. Tom swore. Without a lot of work with heavy-duty tools they'd never let them go. He ducked into cover as another Guild fighter passed by on a strafing run. The base was burning, their home in flames.

            He saw the CHULAINN's turrets swivel, trying to track the targets. We're sitting ducks. Our guns can't track them as fast as they go by...He ran back to the airlock. If they were going down, they would not go down without a fight. A sudden explosion rocked the cave, and Tom was blasted back against the hull of his ship as a shockwave passed through the cave.

            When he opened his eyes, the berth opposite the CHULAINN was gone, a smoking crater where their new ship had been. His jaw dropped. Fifty-six...There were fifty-six people aboard the ANDRASTA....he thought. He scrambled up the ladder as small caliber rounds from Guild cannons impacted next to him. Some of them hit the support beams that held the docking clamps, and an idea started to formulate in his head.

            When he reached the bridge, he shot a quick glance out the viewport and saw the silhouette of a Guild battleship was closing in. "All port guns! Target fifty-five x-y, zero elevation!" He barked. His sister glanced at him. "You're targeting the docking clamps? We'll take severe damage!"

            "No," he answered grimly as the ship shook again. "We're firing at the support beams." He looked at the viewport again and braced himself. "Open fire!"

            The cave shook as the CHULAINN's turrets roared to life, hammering away at the support beams that held the cave intact. Pieces of rocks started tumbling from the ceiling as their support gave way, the falling debris smashing whatever had survived the Guild attacks relatively intact. The rocks hammered away at the CHULAINN as the battleship continued pouring its firepower into the few remaining support beams.

            With a metallic shriek they broke, and the CHULAINN drifted free of the dock, taking half of its structure with it.

            "Full speed ahead! Take us out of here!" Tom yelled as the cave started collapsing in on itself. The rocks started falling again...

            The CHULAINN drifted through the air. Her flanks were breached, and her hull was scorched. Alongside the battleship, attached to its hull, were the remains of a docking aperture. The ship's captain glanced up to the ceiling, wiped the sweat from his brow and resumed stemming his back against the support beam. The heavy steel beam moved an inch, and medics pulled out the injured helmswoman. She gave Tom a thumbs-up as she was carried away. Tom nodded at her and turned around.

            The bridge was a broken mess, controls lying around smashed, the viewports broken, cold wind hissing into the now cavernously-empty space that used to bustle with activity. He sighed. This could very well be their end. They had no supplies, no friends, no fuel. No hope...he thought. "It's going to take us a long time to repair this," a female voice said. Tom craned his head sideways and caught a speck of his sister's silver hair. He was glad now that she had been aboard the CHULAINN when the attack began. If she's been aboard the ANDRASTA as scheduled...he didn't want to think about it

            "Yeah. If we ever get it repaired."

            She nodded. "We're in quite a mess this time..." Her gaze wandered around the room, finally setting on the triage area that had been set up in the center. "Right now they're too preoccupied with repairs and saving lives. But when the triage and possible repairs are done, they'll realize..."

            We have nowhere to run, Tom thought. We're cannonfodder for any Guild vessel that comes along. He shook his head to clear them of these thoughts. If we loose hope, we're dead. He met Caroline's eyes. Her gaze seemed to say, But we're dead anyway, so what difference does it make?