Last Flight of the Betelgeuse

"My lord," A small monkey-like alien piped up, high on top of the ship's domed bridge. "The human ship is approaching at speed."

Nearly every creature in the room turned to attention. They could see it on the map orbiting the room, two small dots placed right above the planet's surface, moving slowly in unison toward the third. The seemingly small shift in trajectory set off alarm bells in everyone's heads as they awaited the order for battle stations.

The Shipmaster kept watch over the battlefield unfolding below, keeping track of his ground forces, still at a crisp 80% effectiveness. "Ignore them," he said. "Flock 38 will shoot them down."

The bridge calmed down and returned to their previous observations. The human dot would blip out of existence in the next couple of minutes. This was to be assumed. It was a research vessel that had expended most of its offensive weaponry. And thus, nothing happened. Victory would continue as normal.

Five minutes later, the monkey alien could no longer hold it in and spoke again. "My lord! It's still approaching!"

It was like a meteor descending from heaven. The Earth vessel, flickering with the energy of its kinetic shields, burned hot on its atmospheric entry. Its prow changed hue to a fluorescent white, the engines roared with a cool blue heat, its hull rattling from relentless turbulence. With reckless abandon, it dived like a falcon onto Pandema.

At the helm, Park's hands shook at the reins. Every inch of him was drenched in sweat. "We're approaching the stratosphere," he grunted, eyes focused ahead. Numbers whizzed by on his console. "Adjusting the path due to gravity."

"Hull integrity is degrading," Zelda added. "We're going in too fast."

"Have engineering evacuate the bow." Reynolds sat above the rest, leaning forward with fingers rolling through his beard. It stabilized him. "We're going in with minimum safety measurements."

An impact shook the bridge, throwing around several of the crew. The deafening rumble was interrupted by sirens.

Ritz checked for status. "The Betelgeuse! She's been hit!"

The ship tilted out of the slipstream before adjusting as one of its corner thrusters let out a trail of smoke, its steel melting off the top. It was a lucky shot from one of the Lone Wolf's four batteries, placed strategically for broadside while in station mode, and forward when on the move. Its fire continued, trying to score a cleaner hit while embroiled in the terrors of re-entry. 

"Set up full deflector screens," Reynolds said calmly. "Use the auxiliary power on the front to maintain our jetstream." 

A second shot tilted the ship again, grazing off the corner, while a third missed, gently speeding past the bridge with a blinding light. Each chance the aliens had to fire brought the human vessel closer to the brink. If one well-placed shot struck them in their engine block, they were goners. Even several minor hits would send them careening into the desert sands. However, every few seconds, the deflector shields dissipated the harsh energy, its capacity dropping and being refilled by every drop of energy they could spare.

The Betelgeuse couldn't return fire. It could only fly. After a solid minute of descent, of near misses and almost certain death, they breached the cloud line. The screen turned blue as they faced the Corssic Ocean.

"Pull up!" Reynolds held tight.

With a heave, Park took what spare kilometers and previous seconds they had left and threw the bow up, forcing the engines down and redirecting it straight ahead, bobbing and twisting like a true rocket. The earth was half a kilometer away when it shifted, ocean waves heaving over the ship's pressure and sound. The pursuing vessel, caught in its own fervor, halted entirely before realigning and shooting forth.

"500 kilometers to the target." Ritz made the calculations. "We have 50 seconds."

"Get ready to fire the Macro Cannon." Reynolds hit a few buttons. A timer counted down on the screen. "Zoldyck, are we clear?"

"I have a visual feed," she answered.

The young woman observed the outside through a targeting computer on her head. The Betelgeuse was flying over the surface at a phenomenal speed, horizons flowing beneath her as fast as they appeared, and the enemy wouldn't be visible until the last second, a speck on the map. The computer would help make the calculations for a firing solution, but some manual control was left to her.

Her helmet beeped. "I'm locked."

"40 seconds." Rizz's eyes darted about his screen. "Target is taking evasive maneuvers."

"Later than expected," Reynolds mumbled. It was odd that they weren't committing to a pincer attack, but it was within his expectations of the EVO commander. He had read too much into him, and this miscalculation could be devastating. "Adjust angle to intercept."

"On it."

"All security forces, please take cover," Zelda spoke over the comms, her voice reaching the radio network on land. "We're performing a low altitude interception." Their arrival at current speed could cause devastation from the noise, either from debris or their sheer shockwave. The forces gave affirmation.

"30-!" The ship rocked, and alarms blared across the bridge. "We've been hit!"

"Losing speed!" Park's visual feed showed port engines in a blaze, melted clean through by the reduced power of the lance battery. He held the controls in a vice grip. "Captain, I can't maneuver!"

"Captain, incoming missiles!"

"Captain!"

Reynolds held his composure. "All power to engines and the guns! Shields off!" 

Power rerouted in seconds, and the ship shot back to life just as the Lone Wolf attempted to snipe down its prey. The chase became ever frantic, like a cheetah lunging for a gazelle, the Betelgeuse bobbing and weaving, defying the laws of physics to keep its pursuers off them. Meanwhile, the alien commander ahead of them turned in a rage.

"Destroy that ship!" The Shipmaster pointed them down, offended by its existence. "Do not let it touch us!"

10 seconds remained. All parties could see each other, and all forces were under one sky. A cascade of fire opened up on all barrels from Flock 37. Park could not evade every shot, only maneuver so that their hits would splash across their hull, unshielded and unprepared for the firepower. It was the best he could offer. A research vessel versus two scout frigates. It was embarrassing. They had underestimated the Betelgeuse and were about to be proven right. The Lone Wolf glowed with a malicious light.

Park shook. "Their main cannon is right on us!"

"Dodge it!" Zoldyck roared."

"But you'll-!"

"Do it!"

"Park, do it!" Reynolds spoke without thinking. On second thought, he should've told them to wait, but he had no time to respond. 

In fear, his eyes glanced over to his youngest crewmate. Zoldyck's teeth were gritted, and tears were leaking from her visor. The Captain's heart skipped a beat. He had asked Zoldyck to leave before this mission to escape with her baby alongside her husband. However, she refused. After all, his child was on the surface too, Park's on Earth, Rizz, Zelda. She still had so much to lose, her life, the time with her family, but it was no longer tied to the Betelgeuse.

It wasn't right for any of them to face these insurmountable odds, but they had their duty. They were chosen because they were willing to offer up their lives so that others may prosper, that their sacrifice meant something far greater than even a mother's or father's love. It drove them for greatness, and for the small Russian, it kept her hands steady.

"Move!" She shouted.

The Lone Wolf's laser carved a line dividing the skies for miles. If the Betelgeuse hadn't timed its bank at that exact moment, it would've bisected the vessel clean in two. It was a miraculous break, but the maneuver gave up the clean line of sight for the macro cannon. However, the gun had already shifted. The two crewmen read each other like a booker, younger to older, and mere hundreds of meters apart, with a quarter of a second of launch time, Zoldyck pulled the trigger.

Sam and Vinisnu felt the entire ship quake. The hull heaved, and their sense of balance slipped as the vessel heaved to the left. Whatever hit them was close, and they could hear alarms blaring and the footsteps of all sorts of life running to and from the impact site.

"What was that!?" Snu asked.

Sam clutched her chest. She had no proof but could feel it in her spirit. "Dad."

The Flock 37 caught itself as it pushed back from the blow. Its wound was clean and devastating, destroying an entire segment and damaging the adjacent fins. It punched a hole clean through the umbrella-like Flock. It wasn't entirely crippling. Lone Wolves had taken worse damage than this from larger vessels. However, being hit while firing a high-intensity weapon would prove perilous, as Flock 38, overzealous and moving at full speed, was caught by 37's stray beam. The laser made a clean cut out of the Flock's laser cannon, neutering it.

"My Master!" The navigator fumbled around. "The humans are behind us!"

The Shipmaster, mere seconds ago imagining himself a hunter shooting a charging animal, flew into a rage. "Fire everything! Don't let 'em get away!"

With a furious swing, the Flock chased its laser toward the Betelgeuse. Missiles blared from the ship's fins, and point defense weapons attempted to use their weapons at their maximum range. And in this flurry of anger, the laser dug into the Pandemian sands below up a faraway mountain range and, ever so quickly, ever so gently, and for a second time, clean across Flock 38. Its engines were crippled, grinding it to a halt.

Still, the laser found its target. While the weapon had reduced power and range on planetary surfaces, and Park did everything he could to evade the pinpoint strike, it began to lock onto him with surprising efficiency. The shields held, and the damage wasn't instantly catastrophic, but by the time they moved to a safe distance, half of the engine block was gone. The Betelgeuse was ablaze.

"Engineering is out, we're drifting!" Park said.

"The gravity is overpowering our engines," Ritz followed. "We're gonna crash into the planet at this rate!"

"Never mind that," Reynolds grunted, out of breath. He grappled with himself, selecting his next orders wisely. He mustn't fall into his emotions. "All power to engines. Put us back into orbit."

Zoldyck tore off her targeting visor. "Captain-!"

"That's an order!" The Captain sighed. He could feel the ground he stood on heave and buckle. There was an impending sense of dread seeping into his conscience. They were dead men. The ship wouldn't reach orbit, their obligations unfulfilled behind him, but there was one more mission left in them that had to be fulfilled. "Zelda, message the ground team. We're going for the jammer. Continue the defense."

"Yes, sir." She had to wipe away a tear and control her voice. Her spirit wasn't rocked the most, but it was the least hidden.

Reynolds sat back, listening in as reports of fire, damage, and all forms of chaos filtered into the bridge, as the research vessel lunged forth with what felt like a pittance of energy, a last, desperate gasp, and he prayed. He hoped that Sam would be alright and that she would live a full and happy life, even if he wasn't there, and he prayed, with eyes toward the stars, that he made that possible.

The ship sprung to life even as more chain reactions tore at its core, turning it into a pillar of smoke and arcing skyward. It took a few minutes, but from the dunes of Pandema, the world saw the Betelgeuse leave its surface for the first and last time.

Sam's eyes glittered.  The prayers were unheard. Nothing could transmit those thoughts from mind to mind, but in the dingy prison cell aboard Flock 37, she felt her father's words.

The prisons quickly erupted into the sounds of blaster fire and screams of countless Pandemians. A few seconds later, the guards barged their way in.

"Get over here, humans!" The lizard spoke in a language that couldn't be translated. "Line up, right-!"

The alien was interrupted by a tail in his throat, one that shot through the back of its head, through his pack mate's throat, and once more until three aliens were shishkabobs on Vinisnu's fresh tail skewer.

The boy looked back at Sam with glee and determination, ready to commit any act of violence for another kiss. He held out his hand. "It's our chance, Sam! Let's go!"