Guardian (War Angel Book 1) by David Hallquist (best contemporary novels .TXT) 📕

do about Saturn? “It’s like this—when I was under the influence of the Saturn virus, it was pure hell. Sensory deprivation, combined with terror and dread, and every awful thing you can imagine. I got out of it. Some haven’t yet. Those people were infiltrated by Saturnine nano on Eros—their lives must have been pure hell in the end. Saturn also did that to a lot of people on Titan after their failed rebellion—to punish them. I can only guess at what torments they’ve got going on deep under the clouds of Saturn itself.

“Now, they’re doing this to other people. They’ll do it to all of us, if they can, and they want to transform the whole solar system so it’s like their own hellish world. I’m not going to let that happen to anyone else if I can help it. I want to return to flight status because it’s the best way I can fight this. If I can’t return to flight status, I’ll continue to serve as a naval officer in whatever capacity I can. If I lose my commission, I’ll work as a crewman in the fight. If I’m out of the Navy, I’ll help build frames or whatever else I can do to stop them. I’m not going quit or stop until this thing is done, and Saturn is no longer a threat.”

The doc takes a few more notes and looks up. “Lieutenant, I’m returning you to operational flight status.”

“You don’t think I’m crazy, then?” I ask.

“No crazier than any other Angel pilot, Lieutenant.”

* * *

Wing Commander Rackham’s office is spare, but not quite spartan. His awards and service record are on one wall, while the other holds a case of actual printed paper books, of all things. There are two holograms on the walls—Planet Jupiter and the Naval Academy of Calisto. You can tell quite a bit about someone from their office, and his speaks of tradition and order.

Then there’s the falcon glare of the man himself. His gaze could burn through a block of dura-alloy, and if he blinks, I’ve never seen it. All of this is his friendly look, basically the default setting on his laser eyes. He can turn it all the way up to a face-melting focus when someone really needs a chewing out, but he rarely needs to.

Then there’s his voice, a quiet and calm low timber that easily cuts across the cacophony of a launching bay. I’m not sure how he does it; maybe there’s a special class for that kind of thing.

“Lieutenant Vance, I’m glad to have you back on flight status. We need every available pilot,” he begins. “With Bertrand down, I need someone to command the squadron and patch it together, now that it’s got holes in it. That person is you.”

What? I gaze stupidly and manage to nod.

“You’ve got temporary command of 1st Squadron.”

“Thank you, sir,” I manage.

“I’m guessing you have questions?”

“Uh…yes, sir. Lieutenant Williams has more experience than I do, and Lieutenant Lin has worked closely with Squadron Leader Bertrand. I’m not sure why I’m jumping over them, sir. Is this because of what happened at Eros?”

“Partly,” he answers. “Oh, not the part where you jumped on that Saturnine cyborg. I’d expect anyone under my command to engage the enemy without hesitation. When you noticed we had a gap in our coverage at the port, you took the initiative to bring everyone in and deal with it. You noticed a problem and dealt with it before anyone else. The upcoming battlespace is likely to be complex and fluid. I need someone with initiative, who’s able to execute flexible tactics in a chaotic environment.”

“Thank you, sir.” I don’t have a lot of time to get the squadron ready; hopefully he’ll understand that.

“Don’t mess up my squadron. Dismissed.”

“Sir.”

That was fast, and about as friendly as I’ve ever seen him. I leave the office, my head swirling with the implications.

* * *

It’s not until I’m actually going down the hallway to address my first squadron meeting that I realize something.

I’m going to look like a total ass.

I’ve taken over Bertrand’s position in the wing, bypassing two more qualified pilots. That’s bad enough. But now, I’m taking the name of his frame, and it will totally look like I’m an impostor. Maybe I can minimize the damage.

A lot of people say they get nervous before a big public speech. I’ve never really understood that. My only concern is how to get the whole squadron working together after everything that’s happened.

In the briefing room are all five flights of my squadron. Sparky Shane Greensport will be heading up my old flight (it certainly wasn’t going to be commanded by Joker or Mad Dog). “Striker” Malcolm Williams will still be second in command of the squadron, and “Wave” Calvin Liu will take over Bertrand’s flight. No changes in the other flights.

I’ll keep it short and to the point.

“There isn’t much time,” I start. “We’ll be arriving in Earth–Luna space in less than a day. Everyone already knows what to do and how to do it. Spend some time refamiliarizing yourselves with the Terran equipment, as that’s most of what we may be facing. Get plenty of sleep before we finish decelerating into the system. I want everyone fresh and ready.

“We’ve lost people to the enemy, but we’re still in the fight.” I see their gazes harden. Everyone is looking for some payback.

“We need to remember who the real enemy is. It’s not the people of Terra—they’re held captive by their own oppressive government. Even their government has been warped by the real enemy, Saturn. We’ll likely have to fight them both, and we should do so with all our effort and will. But remember afterward that they’ve all been lied to and manipulated.

“Ultimately, our foe is Saturn. What they’ve done