Iron Empire

Forty-Eight: To End A War

With that accidental flick of a switch, the Spartan tore through the air at an impossible rate of speed. I soared far above the head of the approaching Titan, far past any danger it would have put me in. I couldn't believe it. Just when I thought my luck had run out, my father's mech had saved my skin.

"Jackson, what the hell?" Lucas called. "You were almost a quarter of the way to the height of a dropship!"

"That's the strongest jump I've ever seen!" Martin shouted.

"I bet my Exodus could give it a run for its money," Laura scoffed, "but nice going, Jax."

The impact was much softer than I would've expected, the Spartan landing surprisingly gracefully.

I turned around and was ready to dodge the next salvo from the Titan I'd narrowly avoided. I braced myself for another torrent of plasma, but the Titan faltered mid-step, command capsule ripping away from its body as shotgun spray twisted it apart.

"Go, go, go!" Martin called. His Predator doubled back to hold off the remaining enemy mechs.

Dropship 13 descended from above, threading carefully through the buildings that dotted the crater.

"I'm almost out!" I shouted.

"Fifteen seconds until launch!" Dan called. "This is going to be tight!"

I could see Axion's pilots ejecting from their mechs. Even they knew when to accept that a battle was lost. All their earlier bravado in attacking the warhead was gone because nobody wanted to stick around in case the warhead detonated.

Obsolete technology or no, a nuclear explosion was still an explosion.

Dropships flocked from above like birds of prey, dropping low to the ground and latching onto mechs, pulling them into safety and taking off as fast as their engines could carry them. I watched a sleek black dropship de-cloak and snatch up Sojwa's Xiezhi as Kedrick, Martin and Alyx ejected from their mechs. Laura remained for an instant longer, firing a few final rounds to drive away the last of the enemy mechs. Her Exodus leapt upwards and was caught, mid-jump, by a dropship.

I felt the Spartan shake as the dropship's mechanisms latched onto it. The tools it used to attach itself to mechs were meant to be universal, but still, I worried that they would slip and send me tumbling back into the crater.

"This is gonna be close!" Lucas shouted. I could hear the stress in his voice.

I watched through the Spartan's cameras as the ground fell away beneath me. We rose into the air, my mech dangling backwards from the dropship's arms as we flew. The Crater, minutes ago bustling with the sounds of battle, was silent, abandoned once more.

Somewhere deep within the mountain, a well of energy boiled over. The warhead was at once lit up with holy light, burning brighter than any star. I was saved from the heat and light by the shell of my mech, but a second later a thunderous blast rattled me in my seat.

Everything was light and motion for what felt like an eternity. Had the warhead launched, or had it detonated? I couldn't tell.

At last, twin streaks of light tore into the sky, my triumph rising with them.

One streak was the empty command capsule from my abandoned Predator, triggered by the wall of fire. With the dropship out of range, it peaked and fell uselessly to the jungle floor. It could be replaced.

The other streak of light was the warhead, a burning arrow of light shooting high into the heavens. It was strange, watching a symbol of destruction, of humanity's savage brutality, yet seeing it as a beacon of hope.

It took a weapon to stop a weapon.

Warfare to end a war.

At last, when I could no longer find where the trail of light ended and where the setting sun began, I was pulled into the darkness of the dropship's hangar.

***

A short while later, I stared up into the darkening sky. Vietnam was far behind us. We sailed away at hundreds of kilometres an hour. I scanned the sky through the dropship's window, searching for any sign that we'd scored a hit. Dusk had fallen now, and we were well on our way back to the Firmament.

Everyone was silent. Lucas had set the dropship on autopilot for the journey and continued to tend to Dan's wounds. Last I'd heard, Dan would make a full recovery, with little or no lasting effects. It would take time, but even his knee would eventually heal. Kedrick and Alyx sat in the hangar, comparing kill scores. According to Kitt, long-range combat had been quite enjoyable.

I let them do what they wanted. It was nicer to search the sky in silence, to hope alone. I was sure that Sojwa Park was doing the same, wherever she had disappeared to.

I glanced down at the sea as we flew by, seeing only the moon paralleled on its surface. I couldn't see any sign of the warhead or Terminus.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Martin, who smiled silently.

"See anything?" he asked.

His voice startled me, but I didn't tell him that.

"No."

Martin was hoping, too. That small fact gave me comfort, knowing that both of us were looking for some sign that our battle had been worthwhile.

At last, something caught my eye. A brilliant flash of light, high over the ocean. A rosebud of fire, expanding in a near-perfect circle.

"There!" I called, no longer worried about disturbing the others. "I see it!"

At first, the light was only small, easily mistaken for that of a star, but it expanded viciously, eating up the darkness of the night sky.

A nuclear detonation in zero gravity.

Its brilliance paralleled that of the moon, reflecting in the water. It illuminated the dark interior of the dropship for an instant before fading into nothing. A moment later the sky lit up in a display I thought I'd never see. An aurora borealis flashed overhead, the lights blazing in the silent sky, moving in great swaying bands of colour like a living organism.

Footsteps filled the cockpit as Kedrick and Alyx entered together. Joining Martin and I, they stood to my right, silent as the grave. Together we stared at the sky, watching the beauty created by destruction. Behind me, a door slid open and Dan waddled through, leaning on a makeshift crutch fashioned from spare parts.

"Damn," he whispered.

"Yeah," I responded.

Nothing else had to be said.

As this beautiful display of power faded back into the night, a burning line of fire traced its way down through the sky, splitting it like a curtain in a blaze of orange.

Project Terminus had fallen.