The Sweetest Thing – Part 9

All things must end.  Sweetest Thing is nearing its end, and I always hate it when something is over.

I’ve loved writing Sweetest Thing.  It’s had some of my favorite characters, and I love the setting to death.  I think it has so much potential.

If I wasn’t swimming up to my eyeballs in half-finished projects right now, I’d definitely try to flesh this one out.

Maybe at a future date?  For now, the next series will resemble an old classic because Space Opera is bred into my bones, and I refuse to deny that part of myself any longer. 

Excelsior!

The Sweetest Thing – Part 9

My shouted warning had barely reached Agnes before the European kinesiopath slammed into her.  The shockwave of impact rocked my drop-runner as it hovered above the fray, and my mind raced as I tried to think of something I could do to help.

The enemy below was strong, his impact throwing Agnes backwards into one of the semi-destroyed tanks that were still being abandoned by the disarmed crew.  Agnes was smiling, the bright white of her teeth a contrast to her dark skin even at this height.  Agnes blurred, and a sickening whumpf-crack of impact and the sudden backwards flight of the intruder showed that while he may have gotten first blood, it was Agnes who would lead this dance. 

I could hear the whine of engines, which meant that the base nearly thirty miles from here had managed to get several planes in the air.  The drop-runner was tough, agile, and capable of extremely high speed. 

It was also complete unarmed.

I had to do something, and do it fast.  Agnes was proof against most forms of destruction while the double-dose of power flowed through her, but each blow would drain more of her precious reserves.  And once she ran out… I shuddered and gathered my wits.  Now was not the time to imagine Agnes bloodied and battered, now was the time to find a way to help her.

I looked over the base.  The runway was a no-go.  Agnes and I had managed to clog that up well and good.  The large metal hangar caught my eye, and a slow smile crept over my face.  Maybe….

I swooped the drop-runner into a reckless landing outside the hangar doors, grabbed the p-90 and extra ammo and barrels secured in a go-bag behind me and made my way inside.  Several troops were scrambling about and the whole place had the frantic motion of an overturned rock with all the insects scrambling in the sudden daylight. 

I spared no one. 

With my enhanced sight and tactile senses, I tracked each target and let out a short burst of high velocity automated fire to match them.  The sounds were muted, as I had been forced to use the special ear-plugs also contained within the go-bag to keep me from deafening myself with the loud fire of the p-90.  The shoulder-bruising burps of bullet spray were tinny and distant even to my ears as I dropped each target in sequence.  I had to duck a few times to avoid return fire, but I had plenty of time to react, able to see when and where the enemy would begin to retaliate. 

It was almost cheating.  I abused it for all I was worth, because Agnes was counting on me.

Three ammo clips and one replacement barrel later and I had managed to quell opposition in the hanger.  I looked at the few planes which hadn’t been able to leave the hangar bay before we choked the runway, and let out a fierce smile as I spied what I had hoped to find. 

It was the darling of the European forces.  The MIG-40.  A collaborative project between the newly united Russian and European engineers, it was a marvel of dog-fighting and pinpoint target removal.  Armed to the teeth and almost as agile as my drop-runner.

It was also ready to fly and completely unmanned.  And now it was mine.

I made my way over to the waiting death machine, climbing the flight ladder that had been wheeled over to it and kicking the thing as hard as I could once I was at the top.  The controls were well known to me, as I’d been a pilot for the European forces before my capture and forced enslavement.  I brought the engines to life, and swerved the plane towards the wall facing the runway, closing the cockpit and strapping in as I went through a hasty pre-flight checklist.

The wall of the hanger exploded outward as the missile connected, what few bits of concrete and various electronic components that hadn’t been incinerated were blasted hundreds of feet through the air.  The hole was enormous, easily half the length of the hangar, whose roof began to bow and buck dangerously.  I gunned the airship through the hole, moving as fast as I dared while making sure I would fit. 

The building held for the precious minute I needed to extricate the plane and myself.  It crumbled inward as I left, the walls buckling and the roof caving completely.  I let out a whoop of fierce joy at having survived my desperate gambit, and rolled the plane towards the waiting runway.  I still had enemies to stop, and I didn’t know if Agnes had managed to win her fight despite the upper hand she had when I left.  I could only do what I could do, however, so I focused on bringing my purloined plane into the fray.

To be continued….

Migfully,
Justin