The Enemy
by Kinto Mythostian
--
"Horrible thing, but we were told to do it and we did it. That's war."
- Allan Wyse, WWII British fighter pilot
--
Ariel Lughniut went through the preflight routine with the care of a seasoned veteran. The gray-furred lupine had logged hundreds of hours of flight time in the cockpit of his scarred but still serviceable starfighter, and he knew all its little quirks and intricacies well. Most of those hours had only been in training, though.
When he'd first enlisted, Lughniut had never imagined he'd have to participate in a real war. No one had seen it coming, really. The scalies had broken diplomatic relations with the rest of the Union and begun attacking civilian freighters and liners without provocation. Even with war raging across the South end of the galaxy, debates still raged in the Center and the North about what exactly had caused the scalies to suddenly turn openly hostile.
Lughniut couldn't afford to worry about why the scalies had done it. Regardless of the original cause, the fact was that they were at war and now his job was to be as good a fighter pilot as he could be. Lughniut had always taken his job seriously, and his efforts had not gone unnoticed. Not long before the conflict had begun Lughniut had been rewarded with promotion to the rank of Squadron Leader in command of his own group of starfighters aboard the Aerie, the most renowned carrier in the lupine fleet.
Satisfied that everything was in order, Lughniut lowered his flight helmet over his head, carefully guiding his pointed lupine ears into the cushioned slots. He flicked on his radio and addressed his squadron. "This is Squadron Leader. All pilots check in."
A reply crackled over the radio. "Copy that, Lugnut. This is Pilot 2, checking in. All systems go."
Lughniut sighed. Lugnut. Years ago, he had entered the Academy as an eager, bright-eyed cadet with high hopes, but on the very first day his gray-muzzled, near-sighted instructor in basic tactics had read his name as Lugnut and it had stuck. He had long ago given up trying to explain that his name was properly pronounced "LIEU-nyut" and accepted that he would be Lugnut for the rest of his life. His frustration was tempered somewhat by the knowledge that he wasn't the only one in this military with an unfortunate call sign.
"Copy that, Squeaky," he casually responded to Pilot 2.
One by one, the other pilots in his 12 fighter squadron checked in. Some, like Squeaky, had been flying with Lughniut for years and he considered them trusted friends and comrades. At the other end of the experience spectrum, a few of Lughniut's pilots on this mission had never flown in combat before. All of them had shown great promise during training and Lughniut was curious to see how they would acquit themselves when the danger was real.
**
Twig was quivering with barely contained excitement, his gray-furred lupine tail twitching anxiously behind him. This was his first trip as an actual pilot in the actual war. He had been training for this day for years, and the thought of facing the enemy in combat both frightened and excited him. Of course, there was no guarantee that they would actually meet the enemy today. He wasn't sure what would be worse: having to engage in combat on his first flight, or spending the entire time in tense anticipation.
"This is Pilot 12, checking in. Allsystemsgo," he spoke into the radio rapidly.
"Whoa there, Pilot 12. Calm down. Relax."
"I'm sorry, Squadron Leader. It's just... this is my first flight out."
"I know. I know you're excited. We'll meet the enemy soon enough. Just try and keep it together."
"Yeah, pup. Don't soil your new ship just yet. You'll never get the smell out," teased the cheerful voice of Pilot 2.
There was a chorus of friendly laughter over the speaker.
Twig smiled embarrassedly, "All right, Squadron Leader. I'll try and relax."
"You'll do fine, Twig."
**
Now came the waiting. For Lughniut, this was the hardest part of any battle. The enemy might appear any second now, or they might never appear at all. Either way, his squadron had to be ready to leave the safety of the Aerie's hangar bay at a moment's notice.
The radio was silent with the quiet tension of an uncertain future. No one wanted to speak for fear of cluttering the channel with unnecessary chatter, and everyone wanted to say something to break the gaping silence. But they kept silent; it was what they were trained to do.
**
Twig silently counted the switches on the control panel and mentally went through what each of them was for. He listed the different weapons he had and how much ammunition he had for each. He picked at a frayed stitch on the cockpit padding. He recited his multiplication tables. Anything to keep himself mentally alert and his anxious mind off the battle that may or may not be impending.
Twig sincerely hoped that he would do well in this battle, and many more after it. He badly wanted to prove his worth, but there were so many things that could possibly go wrong. Twig was afraid that he would be shot to pieces before he could get a single round off. He was even more afraid that he might be captured alive; the enemy wasn't known for their mercy. Twig tried not to think about all the stories he had heard and focused his attention on checking all the gauges for the fifth time.
**
Lughniut was just about to declare the mission a scratch when the scalies' convoy dropped out of hyperspace right where the intel report said it would; a group of eight freighters with military escort.
The fleet commander's voice blared out of the radio. "All squadrons! Commence attack!"
"This is it boys and girls! Our primary target is the lead battle cruiser. Remember, disable, not destroy! Let's move it!" Lughniut ordered his own squadron.
The twelve ships shot out of the hangar bay into space like bullets from a gun. In his peripheral vision, Lughniut saw two Union light battleships descend on the scaly freighters; their job was to keep the freighters from escaping. Directly in front of him, the scalies' lead battle cruiser was wheeling its bulk around to open fire on the Union's lead ship, the Judgment. Other fighter squadrons were pouring out from the Aerie's other hangars, but Lughniut wasn't worried about them.
"Lugnut! Enemy fighters, 3 o'clock!" Squeaky shouted.
Something was nagging at the back of Lughniut's mind, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It would have to wait for later; combat didn't allow for distraction. Lughniut rolled his starfighter to the right and dove into the fray.
**
"Let's move it!" Squadron Leader's voice shouted through Twig's headset. He powered up his ship's thrusters and followed the other ships out into the void. He saw the two lead battle cruisers beginning a balletic dance around each other as each simultaneously maneuvered to present as small a target as possible to the enemy while still being able to attack. Twig would have loved to have watched it unfold, but there was no time; there were already enemy fighters closing fast on their position.
The two groups of fighters met midway between the opposing fleets. The gunfire came incredibly fast and thick; it was exponentially more intense than any simulation. Twig saw a fighter explode out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't know whether it was friend or foe. He was more concerned with the enemy fighter directly in front of him. His instinct and training overpowered his fear and he stitched a string of shots across its armored side and gave chase, juking and diving, sticking close to their tail. Twig fired another series of shots and felt a trill of excitement surge through him as the ship burst into shrapnel. He let out a short involuntary howl of excitement. His first kill!
Twig wheeled his fighter around to seek out another target and saw an enemy fighter blow one of his comrades to bits. The fur along his spine rose, pressing against his flightsuit and Twig growled fiercely. He throttled up and gave chase.
**
Lughniut had always thought the scalies' bulky, ovoid starfighters resembled giant pistachios. They weren't as agile as the lupines' sleek, dart-like starfighters, and at first glance they looked like easy targets. However, in the early days of the war Lughniut had quickly learned to never underestimate them. They carried heavier firepower and their smoothly curved armor deflected anything less than a direct hit.
In the frenzied chaos of the battle, it was nearly impossible to tell which side had the upper hand. Lughniut had already destroyed three scaly starfighters, but he had also lost two pilots of his own squadron. Lughniut could not afford the time to mourn their deaths right now; he had a battle to fight.
Lughniut viciously discharged a round of ammunition at a scaly pursuing one of his pilots, aiming for a key vulnerable point. He smiled wryly as the bulbous fighter abruptly veered off course with Lughniut in hot pursuit.
**
A scream came over Twig's radio and was abruptly cut short as one of his friends' ships exploded. Jumble had been by his side all through training, as close as a brother, but Twig felt hardly anything when he heard him die. In the back of his mind he knew that the reality of it would hit him hard later, but right now was not the time for it.
Adrenaline flowed through Twig's veins as he strafed a string of shots across an enemy starfighter and watched it spiral out of control before bursting into oblivion. His pre-combat nervousness buried and forgotten, Twig growled triumphantly and sought out his next target. The thrill of the hunt and the joy of the kill monopolized Twig's thoughts as he pursued his quarry across the battlefield.
**
"Lugnut! I've got one on my tail!" A panicked shout rang out across the radio.
"Hang in there, Antlers, I'm kind of busy!" Lughniut shouted back.
"Oh feca! Aagh-!"
"Shit!" screamed Lughniut, emotion briefly getting the better of him. Antlers was one of his best, but it suddenly occurred to him that he'd never even known how she'd gotten her call sign. He locked on to the enemy fighter in front of him and destroyed it, using a few more shots than were strictly necessary. "Die, you scaly bastard," Lughniut growled under his breath, his hackles raised.
A warning light went off with a shrill whistle; now he had one on his tail. The scalies seemed to be everywhere. Lughniut deftly rolled his fighter, dodging most of the volley of shots.
"Squeaky! You still got my six?"
"Every day, Lugnut! Ah-whooo!" Squeaky howled as his fighter swooped in from seemingly nowhere and dealt the enemy fighter a glancing blow. Disabled, the ship spun out of control and away from the battle. "Keep it up, Lugnut, I think we've got 'em!"
Then, everything went wrong. From somewhere behind him, a searing light illuminated the battlefield; the unmistakable sign of a large ship succumbing to explosive reactor failure. Lughniut did some quick mental mapping and realized the blast had to have come from the direction of the freighters, who were supposed to be well out of the battle. The freighters... the eight freighters... but the intel report only said there'd be six!
The fleet commander's voice was suddenly howling into his ears. "All squadrons! All squadrons! New target! Stop that freighter! Now!"
"Feca!" Lughniut yelled, as he yanked on his steering yoke to turn back towards the freighters. Suddenly, his dash was a riot of warning lights. Something was coming up behind him. Something massive. And it was coming at him fast.
Lughniut didn't even have time to react before the rogue freighter rear-ended his tiny fighter, bouncing him off its hull and sending him spinning off into space. A new blaze of warning lights and chimes told him his ship had suffered catastrophic damage right before he blacked out.
**
Twig's starfighter spiraled crazily out of control; the young lupine wasn't even sure what had hit him. It had all happened so fast.
Twig wrestled with the steering yoke, knowing even as he did so that it was useless. His fighter rolled over and for a brief moment his view was filled with the sight of an enemy capital ship coming at him fast. Twig had a split second to realize that a collision was inevitable and that his tiny ship could never survive an impact of that magnitude.
Twig knew then that he was going to die. He gasped sharply and braced for impact as best he could. The only thought Twig had time for was the hope that death wouldn't hurt.
His fighter slammed into the larger enemy vessel with bone-shattering momentum. There was a single moment of agonizing pain and then Twig sensed nothing more.
**
Exceeding his own expectations, Lughniut woke up.
As he rose from the fog of sleep, he began to take stock of his surroundings. They were predominantly white. White... not his quarters... the medical bay on the carrier... the battle! Lughniut sat bolt upright, ignoring the sudden headache this caused, and fumbled for a call button. Within moments, a nurse came running accompanied by the fleet commander.
The nurse gently but forcefully eased Lughniut back down onto his bed and began to check his vitals as the fleet commander spoke. "Ah, Lugnut! You're awake. Thank goodness."
"Commander Hunt, what happened? The battle?"
The look on the older lupine's face told Lughniut everything he needed to know.
"We lost? How?"
"Those scalies, they fight dirty. They inserted two decoy freighters into the convoy - remote operated droneships with cargo holds full of explosives. The first one detonated in place. It destroyed one of our light battleships. The second one... I've never seen a freighter move that fast. It came straight through the battlefield towards the Judgment. We took evasive action and that saved us from being destroyed outright, but even so our losses were terrible. We had no choice but to abandon ship. The scalies picked off our remaining fighters and some of the escape pods while we were evacuating and then they split. We captured one of their fighter pilots, but that's all."
"And my squadron?"
"Lugnut..."
"Commander, just give it to me straight. I have to know."
"Lugnut..."
"How many did we lose?"
"Lughniut, you're the only survivor of your squadron."
Lughniut was speechless. "No..."
"I'm sorry, Lughniut," Commander Hunt said quietly.
"Ziggy? Scribbles? Squeaky? They're all... they're all dead?"
Commander Hunt nodded solemnly.
Lughniut didn't cry. He hadn't cried in years, and he wasn't about to start now. For a moment, though, he wanted to. He sought for something to say. "They... You said we captured a scaly pilot?"
"That's correct."
"He must have been injured, right?"
"Yes. His injuries were quite extensive."
"So you'd bring him to the medical bay here, if the Judgment was destroyed. The Aerie is the biggest ship left."
Commander Hunt's silence told Lughniut that he had deduced correctly.
"I want to see him," Lughniut said firmly.
"Lugnut, he was unconscious when we found him. He's on a lot of painkillers. And there's something I should tell you first..."
"No. I don't care. I want to see the scaly bastard's face NOW," Lughniut stood up abruptly, ignoring the nurse's protests as he took a few tentative steps forward, the floor cold against his bare footpaws. He wanted to punch, to rip, to tear, to make the filthy piece of shit pay. It would never bring his friends back, but damn it, it would feel good. He sniffed the air, seeking out the foul reek of a scaly. Instinctively he bared his fangs, his fur stood up along his spine, and his tail swished agitatedly.
A distant clink of metal drew Lughniut's attention to the far end of the medical bay where the curtains had been drawn around one bed, visually hiding it from the rest of the mostly-empty ward. Lughniut growled low and before his nurse of Commander Hunt could react he sprinted across the bay and pulled back the curtains surrounding the bed, murderous rage roiling in his mind.
Lughniut stood and stared, openmouthed and speechless, all thoughts of violence draining from his mind to make room for confusion as he looked down at the patient lying in the hospital bed. The patient's right wrist was handcuffed to one rail.
"I... I don't understand..."
**
Twig blearily blinked open his eyes. Whiteness filled his vision. He couldn't feel anything, and thinking required far too much effort.
"I'm dead," he thought to himself, "This must be Heaven."
Gradually feeling returned to what must have been his body. His limbs felt numb, but at least they were attached to his body. Twig tried to move his arm and was abruptly stopped short. A metallic clink filtered through his ears to his brain. He was chained to something. Twig's eyes suddenly snapped open. He was lying in a bed with metal rails, surrounded on all sides by white curtains.
"This isn't Heaven!" he realized with a trill of panic, "I've been captured by the enemy!"
The curtains were pulled aside and an enemy looked down at him with murder in its eyes. In a split second the stranger's expression changed from rage to puzzlement.
"I... I don't understand..." it said. Twig felt much the same.
**
Lughniut looked down at Twig lying in the hospital bed, handcuffed to the rail. The remains of a flightsuit, tailored for a lupine body but bearing scaly insignia, were neatly folded on a nearby table.
Commander Hunt arrived two steps behind him.
"This...?" Lughniut asked.
"Is the scaly pilot we captured, yes. All the deceased scaly pilots we recovered were the same," Commander Hunt answered.
"He looks just like me..." Lughniut and Twig said.
Author's Notes
Original draft began October 20, 2008, and never properly finished. Revisited July 8, 2010, first draft finished July 11, 2010, and final editing finished July 13, 2010.
