L-7: Approaching Climax
When I was finally released from the Doctor’s care, my body sufficiently healed enough that I could now move around freely, the first place I went to was Eros’ gravity centrifuge. I had gone stir-crazy during my week in sickbay, and now was the time for me to get out and about once more. A light jog in full gravity may not have been the first choice of most patients freshly recovered from surgery, but for me it was both necessary and liberating.
Kometka came along of course, fretting all the way. My ‘light jogging’ was closer to a full sprint for the average human, thanks to my bionic legs, but Kometka easily kept pace with her android body. The sight of a cyborg and android tearing through the streets came as quite a shock to the pedestrians we passed, I’m sure.
After a good half-hour of jogging, we stopped to rest near a public water fountain next to one of Eros’ foundries. I wiped the sweat off my upper body with a towel, noting with mild jealousy that Kometka was still looking crisp and fresh as when we started.
It must be nice to be an android.
“Don’t you think that’s quite enough, Lydia?” Kometka said, resuming her fretting.
“Of course not. I’m just getting my second wind! I still have a whole WEEK’S worth of frustration to get out!” I stretched my arms high above my head, causing the tank-top I was wearing to flutter up above my belly button and expose the scar from the recent surgery. It didn’t hurt anymore, but Kometka winced regardless.
“If you move around too much, the wound will reopen!” protested Kometka.
“After the doc stitched it up with nanomachines? I doubt it. I know my own body,” I reassured her.
“And you always push yourself too hard,” she replied matter-of-factly. She had been the one to help me when I rehabilitated after the Third Great Surge, so she knew my body pretty well too.
“C’mon, Kometka. We only have a few days at most until we dive headfirst into the final battle. I told you before, didn’t I? We can rest when this is all over.”
Kometka rolled her eyes. “And until it’s over, my sole responsibility is to ensure your health and safety, as your pilot support system AI.”
“Really?” I said, grinning and bringing my face close to hers, “Is that the ONLY reason?”
She looked at the ground, her cheeks flushed as red as her eyes. “It’s not fair when you grin at me like that.”
“What’s unfair about it?” I responded teasingly.
“You’re too handsome. It makes my processor overheat,” she muttered almost inaudibly.
“Well, once we’re done running, I’ll REALLY show you unfair. You gotta catch me first, though!” And with that, I took off running once more, at full speed this time.
Even with a head start and my bionic legs, she caught up in no time. You can’t outrun an android, I guess, especially not one in love.
*****
The next day, Captain Savitskaya convened a meeting of Maid Squadron in the CIC sphere of the Radiolaria. I had explained my plan to her the night before, and it was time to brief the troops. That responsibility mainly fell to me.
“Two days from now,” I said, laying out the broad strokes, “We will commence our final battle with Moby. The plan is to lure her out, cut her out of the Belphegor if possible, then kill her and use Zehra’s brain-scanning laser to copy her mind into Sveta’s AI core.”
“Excuse me!” Miette raised her hand, and I nodded to her, “What do you mean by ‘lure her out?’ Shouldn’t we just wait for her to attack again?”
I shook my head. “Based on my and Kometka’s history fighting with her, we think she’s probably going to lay low until she can repair the damage to her Belphegor. Given that we have two or three weeks at most until the Fourth Great Surge, the Captain and I agree we need to act now.”
Nobody could argue with that, but there were still unanswered questions. “If she’s that cautious, how do you plan on luring her out?” asked Sabina.
“By dangling some bait in front of her, the one thing she wants more than anything. Me.” I thumped my chest.
“…You?”
“Yup. I’ll be going into battle with a self-destruct device attached to my X-23. We will declare to Moby that if she doesn’t face us in battle, I will destroy myself. That should draw her out in a fit of desperation.”
Sabina was shocked. “W-Wait a minute! That’s kind of extreme, don’t you think?”
The Captain spoke up next, her voice cold and hard. “We don’t have the luxury of doing this in half-measures.”
Everyone was silent. They all knew we were facing down a very grim ticking clock, with human extinction looming once the chime struck midnight.
Zehra recovered first and posed a question. “I’m curious where you got a self-destruct device, gao~n. It’s not usual policy to build those into Gravity Frames, and I sure didn’t put one on any of the X-23s.”
“For good reason,” the Captain said, “Back in the early days of the war, Gravity Frames did in fact have self-destruct devices, usually TNT or similar explosives located near the nuclear reactor. The idea was that a pilot in a hopeless situation would rather die quickly in an explosion than be consumed alive by the Sarcophage. However, the doomsday cults made grim use of those explosives during their betrayal on Mars, so subsequent generations of Frames omitted them as a precaution. They were replaced with escape pods instead, in the form of ejectable cockpit modules.”
Mars had been a wake-up call for humanity, in more ways than one. Many safety measures had been implemented to prevent further betrayal, including the removal of self-destruct devices and the installation of kill-switches in all Frames that could be remotely triggered by unit commanders, captains or AIs. Modern military doctrine was defined by our collective trauma from Mars to an almost total degree.
The Captain continued, “The self-destruct device we’ll be using is the Carthage Contingency nuclear bomb assigned to 433 Eros. We’ve modified it with a dead man’s switch, as well as an option for direct and remote detonation, and it will be attached to Lydia’s X-23 by the end of today.”
That little detail shocked everyone, and their mouths hung open as they looked at the Captain and me. Nuclear weapons weren’t really an active part of humanity’s modern arsenal; they had been used extensively early in the war, primarily in the asteroid belt, but had proved ineffective against the Sarcophage. Since they were already space-dwelling organisms native to hard vacuum, they didn’t have much to fear from radiation; furthermore, even precision guided missiles were rather slow and clunky when compared to positron cannon fire or kinetic projectiles, so spinefire easily shot down incoming nuclear missiles. Command decided to use humanity’s rapidly dwindling supply of fissile material to fuel the reactors in Gravity Frames, warships and Almaz platforms, and the remaining nuclear warheads were stashed away for use in the Carthage Contingency, the planned species-wide suicide to be executed if the Absolute Line fell. Now, the Captain was pulling one of those out of mothballs at my suggestion, an almost unprecedented strategy.
It was beyond risky. If we failed and the Absolute Line fell, that meant 433 Eros’ inhabitants would be denied the quick death afforded to the rest of humanity. The fact that the Captain was willing to go along with such a crazy idea spoke volumes about the trust she had in me.
“I don’t know if I like this idea,” Miette said grimly, “I’d rather you not sacrifice yourself, Lydia.” Sveta nodded along, as did everyone else. It was mildly touching, to think I’d make such an indelible impression on them after just a few short weeks.
“I’m not planning on it,” I responded, “If Moby doesn’t show, we’ll slink back to Eros with our tails between our legs. But we need to have an active nuke with an active countdown timer, or she’ll call our bluff.”
“That’s still playing with fire!” Miette protested.
“Very much so. But I know Moby better than anyone; trust me when I say I plan to ram the nuke right down her arrogant throat and then laugh maniacally as she’s blown to atoms.” I wasn’t sure if the battle would play out QUITE like that, but it was a stark enough mental image to convey my ostensible confidence in my plan. As the leader of Maid Squadron, I couldn’t allow myself to show any weakness, especially since it was my ass on the line. Kometka had already aired her misgivings to me in private, but in front of everyone else she simply kept quiet and let me do my thing.
My second-in-command, Maurice, offered his support. “If that’s the plan, then there’s nothing to discuss. Our responsibility is to make sure Lydia, and everyone else, make it back alive.” He fixed his glare on the rest of the pilots, and I could feel their objections wither on the vine. They weren’t happy about it, but they’d fall in line.
The Captain cut through the awkward atmosphere with her usual skill. “Thank you, 1st Lieutenant. Now, after we draw Moby out, we’ll go for an all-out attack. Our full resources will be committed to this battle; all five of our Gravity Frames squadrons, and all four carrier ships.”
“E-Eros will be left defenseless, gao~n?” Zehra stuttered as she spoke, the quavering of her voice betraying a hint of fear. She was likely remembering the last time Eros has been without carriers or Frames for protection.
The Captain quickly offered reassurances. “This won’t be like the time Vicky left you defenseless; we’ll be within a few thousand kilometers, not on the other side of the Earth sphere; Eros will turtle up behind the shield until the battle’s over. We’ll be commanding Moby’s full attention, and we absolutely must kill her in this battle. This is an all-or-nothing situation.”
“And when Moby dies,” I added, “Sveta uses the brainwave laser to capture her mind as an AI and Zehra gets working on her newest superweapon. That’s the basic plan. Anyone have any questions?”
There were no further questions, although I still sensed a lot of silent objections.
“Very well. Maid Squadron, along with all the other pilots, will be running combat simulations of this scenario for the next two days. The battle plan has been downloaded to all the AIs, so familiarize yourself with it. Aside from that… you all are relieved from patrol duty as of now, and the upcoming combat simulations will only be half-shifts. Five hours per day. The same applies to all pilots, not just Maid Squadron. Sveta and Kometka will handle all patrols with Strike Fins.”
“Half-shifts?” Miette asked.
The Captain jumped back in. “Per my direction. Use the rest of your time to do whatever it is you need to do.”
She left a lot unspoken in that last order, but everyone understood. Go put your affairs in order. Say what you need to say to your loved ones. Party and get super drunk, or just laze around and sleep in. Make sure you go into this battle with no regrets.
In other words, be prepared to die.
This was the final battle, after all. We were very intentionally throwing everything we had against the most dangerous enemy humanity had ever faced. Even if every member of Maid Squadron made it out alive, it was almost guaranteed not every other pilot would. They didn’t all have the benefit of cutting edge X-23s.
After a few more orders, everyone dispersed. I wish I could have ended the meeting on a happier mood, but far better to have them alert and charging into this with eyes open.
After everyone filed out, only me, Laria, Kometka and the Captain were left. I looked at the Captain apprehensively.
“How do you think that went?” I asked her.
“As well as can be expected,” she replied.
“They’re tense.”
“Of course they are. This is the biggest risk we’ve ever taken. But they’re also soldiers, and damn fine ones at that. They’ll follow through.”
She drew close to me, her professional demeanor abandoned, and her tone became soft. “Lydia. I won’t ask you to make any promises, because I know how hard this battle will be. But… please do your best to bring them all home.”
“I will,” I responded.
We nodded to each other, communicating on a level deeper than words. Then I took Kometka’s hand and we left CIC together. She gripped my hand tighter than she had ever before, and I squeezed right back as if I never wanted to let her go.