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Just My Imagination: Part 3 - Assault On The Scarrid Base by Andrew Williams The viewscreen showed... rocks. Nothing but asteroids. "What is this, Mike?" he asked. "This is where I lost the signal," the radio replied. "That warship came here, and then vanished off the scope." "So we've got nothing." "That's what I thought at first," answered Mike. "Take a closer look at the asteroid in the top left, bearing -60.45, distance 39.23." "Zooming in, sir," said crewman Parkes. The viewscreen highlighted the asteroid and the view changed to a close-up view. "Do you see it?" asked Mike. At first he could only see rock. Then, as the asteroid slowly rotated, the shadows seemed to form a pattern so obvious he didn't know how he'd missed it. It was a docking port. The hidden base was in an asteroid. "Mike, I'm proud of you." Mike laughed. "Save the drinks for later, Scott. Let's blow it up first." "Let's think about this first, Mike. We're safe out here - all these rocks will hide us from them just like they've been hiding from us." "What's there to think about? No ships in the area except that damaged warship we encountered earlier. There can't be many fighters in that rock, and there's no shielding or weapons that we can see. We can't risk waiting." Scott sighed. He had a bad feeling about this, but Mike had a point. The warship they had attacked would have reported their presence in the area - if they came back later, it would be into the gunsights of a Scarrid fleet. "Alright then, Mike. You go in first, and I'll cover you." "Scott! Visitor!" Scott woke up in his computer chair, the title screen of Flatspace bathing his face in light. The door opened and Mike walked in. "Hey, Scott," he said. "Where've you been lately?" Scott smiled. "Not been well," he said. "Mum reckons I've been playing computer games too long." Mike nodded towards the screen. "Still playing Flatspace?" "Yeah." "Have I told you? I've found a Scarrid station. I'm going to attack it tonight, see what happens." Scott managed not to start at that. He didn't want to tell Mike about his strange experiences - he didn't think he'd understand. "Let me know what happens," he said. Mike smiled, then winced. "What's up?" Mike shook his head. "Stomach hurts. It's been like this all day." He rubbed his side gently. "I didn't get the day off school, though." Scott laughed at that. "Try harder." They chatted and played on the computer for a while, before Scott's mum called up the stairs that it was time Mike went home. Bedtime. Scott swallowed one of the pills he'd been prescribed, brushed his teeth and said goodnight to his mother. As he got into bed, his brain getting foggy from tiredness and the pill he'd taken, he promised himself that whatever happened, he would remember his dreams. He would remember. He would. He saw the flash of a fighter exploding against the darkness of space, and realised he'd drifted off again. Thoughts of being in bed briefly filled his mind but he shook his head clear and focused on the screen in front of him. "We've got incoming!" "Shields weakening!" "Taking evasive action!" With the practised speed of an experienced captain Scott took in the tactical displays, the ship status and the actions of his crew in a glance. "Target those fighters first," he said. "We need to get them off our back." "Ammunition is running low," Collins reported through the intercom. "Conserve your shots," Scott ordered his crew. "Otherwise we'll be ramming those ships." Another fighter detonated behind them, accompanied by cheers from the bridge. "Celebrate later, people," said Scott. "We're not out of danger yet." "Hey, Scott!" called the radio. "A little help here!" "We'll be right there, Mike." "Target the fighters on his tail," said Scott. "The Warning Forever is taking damage," said Parkes. "Their hyperdrive is inoperative." "Captain! More ships warping in!" Scott looked at the radar. Whatever they were, they were big. Three large blips started moving closer. Parkes: "Shields are gone - we're down to armour plating." Jenny: "Engineering reports the last batch of rockets has been loaded." Parkes: "Three fighters converging on our rear quadrant!" The radio: "Scott! We're dead in the water - abandoning ship!" Scott felt the creeping paralysis of panic climbing up his spine as he watched the lifepods launching from Mike's vessel. The attack had gone disastrously wrong. "Get those lifepods and prepare to warp out," said Scott. "We're breaking off the attack." "Hyperspace target set." "Captain, the Scarrid are blocking us off!" It was true - Scarrid fighters were keeping between them and the lifepods. As Scott tried to find a way through, unwilling to risk firing rockets into the group, the newly arrived vessels began scooping up the pods. "No! Mike!" "Sir, we have to go! We can't help them!" "Mike!" "Captain!" He jerked awake, half fell out of bed and ran to the bathroom. He was just in time. Though it was already fading, Scott remembered bits and pieces. He remembered being on a spaceship. He remembered a battle. He remembered his friend Mike was there - and that he was in trouble. There was a noise from outside the bathroom. He'd woken up mum. "Scott? You okay?" "Sorry mum. Bad dream." Mum looked at him, knelt by the basin. "Maybe it's those tablets. I knew they'd be trouble. You sure you're alright now?" "I'll be okay. Can I get some water?" "You get back to bed. I'll bring you some." Scott returned to his bedroom and got back under the covers. He was already feeling sleepy. Downstairs he heard his mother in the kitchen and the running of water - and then the telephone ringing. His mother's voice, muffled and indistinct. Footsteps on the stairs. "Scott? That was Mike's mother. He's just been taken to hospital." Scott felt the familiar blackness wash over him. "Damn it, that's not good enough!" "Please do not shout." So polite, so calm. So irritating. Scott wanted to punch him in the face, but no matter what happened, he needed this man's help. "I'm sorry, captain. I cannot simply send a fleet of ships into hostile territory on request." "Commandant Peterson." Scott gritted his teeth and swallowed a number of rather unpleasant names. "My friend and I have been hunting for this base for a month. We were under the impression that your forces were seeking this base as a matter of urgency. My friend has been captured by the greenies. He's saved my life a hundred times, and I am going to try to save his. If you can't help me, I'm still going. Don't expect me to make it back." Peterson stood still. "We thank you for your efforts. The finder's reward of ten thousand dollars is yours - please split this between yourself and any relatives of your friend as you see fit." "What about Mike?" "Goodbye, captain." Two soldiers walked Scott to the door. As he reached the doorway he turned back. "Just tell me why you won't help." Peterson sighed. "It's not my decision," he said. "I'll put in a request to my superiors for an assault on the station. I can't promise anything will come of it. I can't promise they'll attempt any rescue." "I understand." Scott turned and left, the guards sealing the door behind him. Jenny spoke first. "So what did he say?" "There's no-one to help us." General mutters of anger and disbelief came from the bridge crew. "We've got our finder's reward. I want to patch the ship up, get the rocket launcher restocked and go back ourselves." "On our own?" Parkes snorted. "We haven't a chance." "I'm not leaving him there." "Scott? Wake up, Scott!" He sat up. "Mum?" "I'm sorry, Scott. I shouldn't have told you like that. The doctor said it was stress making you black out and then I go and tell you..." "It's okay, mum. Tell me." She paused, trying to find the words. "Mike has appendicitis. His stomach was hurting him, but nobody realised... he passed out a few hours ago. His mother called an ambulance but... they don't know if he's going to wake up." "Can I go see him?" "We'll see if we can go in the morning. There's nothing we can do at the moment. Try to get some sleep, Scott." She made sure he got back into bed, turned out the light, then closed the door behind her. Scott lay in the darkness for a while, sleep the last thing he felt he could do. Mike was in trouble, both now and in his dream. In the early hours of the morning, his head buzzing with a million thoughts and feelings, dreams and reality seemed to blur. His dreams felt so real, even though he could not remember them. Scott felt sure that, if he could save his friend in his dreams, he would save him in this world as well. In the early hours of the morning, anything seems possible. Scott fell into sleep. "Status reports, people." "Engineering reports everything is running smoothly, captain." "Weapons?" "Fully loaded and ammunition supplies fully stocked. Four missiles loaded and operational." "Shields? Armour?" "Both at maximum strength." "Hyperdrive?" "Charged and ready." Scott ran down his mental checklist, ensuring his ship was at peak efficiency. "We're all set, then. Request launch clearance and set hyperspace target." There was a slight bump as the mooring clamps released, and the ship began to move slowly to the docking port. Within moments they were outside the station, and then they were floating free. "Activate the hyper..." "Captain!" interrupted Jenny. "I'm picking up a radio signal!" "Ahoy there," said the radio. "Don't go just yet, we're not ready!" Scott was surprised. "Peterson!" he said. "Is that you?" "That's right," said Peterson. "You wanted my help, right? You've got it. I'm coming with you - me and some friends." "Commandant, I..." "Just Peterson, please. Or better yet, call me Jeff. I'm not here on military jurisdiction." "What...?" "Space Command said no to this mission. I'm currently AWOL. Don't tell anyone." Scott smiled. "And your friends?" "I told them what Space Command said, and half my unit said to me... well, I can't really repeat it. Most of them - me included - know what it's like out there and we don't leave people behind." "Thanks, Peterson." "Jeff." "Sorry." There was a moment of silence. "So how long do you need?" Jeff Peterson took a deep breath. "A lot of this isn't the finest military equipment, I'm afraid. The new kit needs signing out - this little batch is pretty worn but works well, and I've commandeered it as a 'training exercise'. We've got three Pelicans with stun weaponry - there wasn't time to refit it, and it should help rescue your friend without frying him in the process - and a mix of cheap and cheerful missiles. I was able to fit some small shields to two of them - Owen Michaels in the Quatermass is in the third. Look out for him if the crossfire gets hot." "I will." "I've also got two Enforcers - they may be small, but they're fast and they're equipped with miniguns. And my ship's still being outfitted - I'll be launching in an hour if these engineers don't slack off. This is my retirement ship - I wasn't planning on launching it for a few years yet. Butterfly Mk II with Simtex plasma and two machine gun turrets." "A Butterfly? I thought they were all gone now." "Not quite. Mostly museum pieces nowadays - this one's been a project of mine for a decade. The New Horizon - old style, new hardware. She'll surprise you, I reckon." "Alright then. So what's the plan of attack...?"