Grogaan was busy installing a new power conduit in one of the MDF’s fighters, one which had been badly damaged in a recent engagement with the Krelathans. He had just finished tightening the restraining bolts when he felt a strange sensation in his mind, one he had not experienced before, and he was unable to determine what it was. He leant on the fuselage, arms crossed and looked vacantly across the workshop while he pondered what it was.
Zaack walked around the ship and saw him gazing absently across the workshop. “Hey Grogaan, are you alright?”
Grogaan turned his head slowly and looked at Zaack. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.” He took a deep breath and blew it our slowly. The sensation was becoming stronger and he was beginning to understand what it was.
Zaack was unconvinced. “You don’t look fine to me. Something is obviously bothering you, so what is it?”
“I don’t know for sure.” He turned round, leant back against the fuselage and tapped the spanner in his hand. Then his eyes widened as enlightenment struck. He jumped down from the staging, called his friends to him and began walking toward the crew room. “It’s time to suit up. We’re needed elsewhere.”
The group became excited at the prospect of engaging in another fight with the Krelathans. It had been three days since their last sortie, and they were on stand-down for the next four days. Even though they understood why, they were not pleased about it, especially Grogaan.
“So why the sudden call up?” asked Eldaan.
“We haven’t been called up,” said Zaack. “Grogaan knows something is brewing, and has decided we’re going anyway.”
“What? Is this wise?” asked Doraant.
“Of course it is,” said Joeen. “If Grogaan says we need to go, then it’s got to be important. Isn’t that right?”
“You bet it is,” said Zaack, who was feeling surprisingly confident, but there was something else impacting on him that he was unaware of. Grogaan’s growing ability to draw on magic was now affecting his friends, which enhanced their receptivity, but only in their ability as fighter pilots.
Five minutes later, the six pilots of Kopaz Squadron were carrying out pre-flight checks, most of them feeling apprehensive about what to expect. As they took off and headed for space, Grogaan firmly believed this mission was going to be a pivotal one in his life, one which would seal his destiny and set him on the path he would be unable to turn back from.
“Damn and blast, how many of them are there?” asked Blue-Two.
“Too many,” said Blue-Leader. “Defence Control, this is Blue-Leader, do you copy?”
“We copy Blue-Leader. What’s your status?”
“We have thirty-six enemy fighters heading our way; I repeat, thirty-six enemy fighters comprising twenty-eight MFC’s, four Kraylons and four TS5’s.”
“Have the transports and shuttles arrived?”
“Affirmative, Control,” said Blue-Leader. He heard the controller curse under his breath.
“Engage the enemy as ordered. Wing Commander Serdaan will be sending more squadrons to support you.”
“Alright boys, this is it. Let’s do what we can,” said Blue-Leader who was not feeling too hopeful of their chances. None of them had been in a situation where they were outnumbered three to one, and he wished Kopaz Squadron was with them. The twelve MCI’s of the MDF altered course to intercept the oncoming Krelathan fighters, and prepared to open fire.
Meanwhile, Trindall, the Chief Engineer of Mabraant Engineering was taking his short morning break, and enjoying a hot cup of tea in the rest room. The door flew open, hitting the chair behind and startling Trindall who nearly dropped his cup. “Damn and blast it Dave, did you have to burst in like that?” he said putting his cup down and wiping his face.
“Apologies Trindall, but Wing Commander Serdaan has requested assistance from Kopaz Squadron immediately. We have a crisis situation.”
The Chief did not respond. Instead, he rushed out of the rest room, ran down the stairs and across the workshop toward the bays wherein Grogaan and his friends were supposed to be working. When he noticed there was no one about, he turned on his heels and headed for the crew room, but they were not there either. He scratched his head and ran back down the workshop, stopped abruptly and smiled. Their ships were missing, which meant they had already gone. How they knew they were needed was beyond him, but he was relieved.
“Maintain close formation once we’ve passed through the atmosphere,” said Grogaan, who was beginning to focus his mind and prepare himself for the battle.
“Hey Grogaan, what do you think we’ll be up against?” asked Doraant.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, keeping his thoughts calm. “Other than a large squadron of Krelathan fighters, I’m not sure. I do know, however, success depends on our presence.”
“Well, I’m ready for a fight,” admitted Eldaan.
“Me too,” said Zaack.
“It’s time to get focussed and accelerate to maximum velocity,” said Grogaan. Just after he spoke, his sensor readout began flashing. When he saw the number of enemy ships identified, he knew destiny had indeed influenced him.
Joeen gasped. “Is the sensor readout correct?”
“We’re in for some serious trouble,” said Eldaan.
“You can say that again,” added Doraant.
“Cut the chatter Kopaz Squadron. Kay-three pair with Kay-five; Kay-four with Kay-Six. Kay-two, you’re with me, but break when you think it necessary. The rest of you, remain in your pairs until we outnumber the enemy. Maintain formation and break when I give the command.”
Eighteen Krelathan MFCs altered course to intercept them, leaving the other eighteen for Blue and Green squadrons to deal with.
“Looks as if they’ve heard who we are, if they’re sending half their ships to intercept us” said Zaack.
“It does seem to be the case,” said Grogaan. “So let’s not disappoint them.” He noticed one pilot remained farther back from the rest, and assumed he was the squadron leader. The rest remained in a tighter formation than all previous squadrons they had encountered, which was a fatal mistake, one they would pay dearly for making. “When we’re in range, open fire with everything you’ve got, and don’t spare the torpedoes either. Don’t waste time tracking with lasers if you can take them out with torpedoes. As soon as we deal with these, go and support our boys and defend the transports and shuttles.”
The next two minutes were agonising, and then a massive barrage of laser blasts erupted from Kopaz Squadron’s forty-eight laser cannons. Before the Krelathans were able to break formation, eight MCF’s exploded, damaging several others in the process. Grogaan gave the command to break, and while the others paired off, he went straight after the ship that had held back, with Zaack hot on his tail. As he closed in with all lasers firing, the Krelathan banked hard, just managing to evade the onslaught. Grogaan saw the wolf’s head on the nose cone and on the rear fin and smiled.
“So, we have another General to put to the test,” said Grogaan, who felt the adrenalin flowing through his body and excitement filling his soul. The same tingling sensation he had experienced before ran from his head to his feet and down his arms, making his fingers tingle with energy. He shuddered as the power filled his body. “Break off Zaack,” he said, knowing it was dangerous for his friend to remain on his wing.
Grogaan felt his mental and physical strength increasing, he began seeing ripples in the fabric of space within his mind, and he sensed something telling him this fight was crucial to fulfilling his vow of vengeance. As he focussed his thoughts on the sensation, he felt his anger and desire for revenge growing to levels he had not experienced since before his ship was finished. It disturbed him and affected his concentration, so he shook his head and he re-focused his thoughts on the task in hand. A sense of calm filled his soul, and as he allowed it to permeate both mind and body, he was able to see the ripples in the fabric of space more clearly than before.
It was an extraordinary sight to behold, almost
hypnotic. The enemy starfighter caused enormous waves, making its every move clearly visible. Grogaan sensed his opponent was intending to bank hard left, so he started a fraction of a second before him, bringing him directly into his sights. He squeezed the trigger firing a salvo of shots which moderately depleted the Krelathan’s shield level.
After ten minutes of intense combat where neither pilot seemed to gain an advantage, the Krelathan opened the comm channel. “May I have the honour of knowing who my adversary is?”
Grogaan answered in a deep dark voice. “Squadron Leader Grogaan Learman, Kopaz Squadron from Mabraant. And you are?”
The raider continued trying to shake Grogaan off his tail, throwing his ship into every manoeuvre he could think of, but without success. Grogaan pursued him as if he was connected to his ship by a cable.
“I am General Kregarast, Dragonias Group Commander of the Krelathan Forces. It is a pleasure to engage in combat with such an extremely competent and skilled pilot, Squadron Leader Learman.”
“General Kregarast! So, you’re not dead after all,” said Grogaan, his voice filled with anger and contempt. This was what he had been waiting and longing for: The opportunity to engage in combat with the one who had ruined his life, the one who had been responsible for the deaths of his father, his brother, and his fiancée, and to finally fulfil his vow of vengeance.
When Grogaan felt his anger growing to dangerous levels, he focussed his thoughts on Ellarna and his friends, and fought to contain his burgeoning emotions, which threatened to overwhelm him. If he failed, everything he had strived for would be wasted. His friends would die, the killing would continue, and that was something he could not, would not allow. It was up to him to bring an end to this murderer’s life and his reign of terror, once and for all.
“The rumours of my death were wildly exaggerated, but served a purpose.”
Grogaan managed to glean from the sensor readout that the Krelathan forces were now down to only six fighters, and the MDF had lost only one ship. “I suppose I should be grateful you’re more experienced and skilful than your comrades. It will make our fight all the more worthwhile and gratifying.”
“It will indeed, young Mabraantan. The losses we have suffered here are insignificant, but they will cease.”
“So sure are you, Kregarast? You have yet to prove you are competent enough to survive against me.” Grogaan knew he was being conceited and arrogant, but the confidence and drive he gained from being so, increased his ability to focus and keep his emotions in check.
“You are quite arrogant, Squadron Leader Learman, to think you can defeat me. I like that in a fighter: It makes one strong, but over confidence makes one weak.”
“I’m confident enough, but you have never fought one-to-one with a Mabraantan before. Few can survive when facing odds of four-to-one, such as those honourable Mabraantan pilots you killed many years ago. Even those Krelathans who had the nerve to face me one-to-one, did not last long, except perhaps Colonel Pradeen; he was a worthy opponent.”
Kregarast detected more than hatred in the Mabraantan’s words. There was no doubt he was highly skilled, but there was much more to his success than that. “Have we been in combat together before?”
Grogaan clenched his left hand into a tight fist, his eyes partly closed in fury. “No we haven’t, but this will be your only encounter.”
“You think so, do you? We shall see if you have the strength and discipline to sustain prolonged combat, or crack under the pressure.”
Grogaan remembered his brother and his father, clear images of them forming in his mind. A tear trickled down his cheek as he pictured Miranda in all her beauty, smiling lovingly with her arm raised, her hand beckoning to him as if she were saying:
‘Let the inevitable happen my love. Come and join me so we can be together for all eternity.
A stabbing pain struck his heart as he tried to focus on her image. He would give up everything, even his life if he knew he could be with her again, but knew it could not be so.
Grogaan had never believed in the afterlife.
Miranda was gone from his life forever, but the memories would remain: A constant reminder of the love they had for each other, the joy and happiness they shared. He thought of Ellarna and the relationship they now shared, and how she had been a tower of strength for him to lean on.
‘This is for all of you,’ he said softly, choking back his own grief as tears poured down his cheeks, the pain of that grief cutting to the core of his being. His intense emotions compounded his anger and resentment, pushing him to the limits of tolerance.
“I have the strength and determination to survive, and I won’t hesitate in taking the shot that ends your life,” he said. “I made a vow many years ago, and it’s time to fulfil that vow.”
“Well, we will just have to see whether your vendetta motivates you more than my desire to live and conquer. Your death will bring much honour to me Squadron Leader Learman,” said Kregarast as he began some violent manoeuvres in an attempt to evade his pursuer.
Grogaan pursued the enemy leader relentlessly, who was good, but not good enough. He fired occasionally, teasing the Krelathan and hoping to lull him into a false sense of belief that his pursuer was unable to get a clear shot. However, Grogaan was able to sense every move his enemy intended.
After a few minutes, Grogaan was getting tired of his little game. His target banked and rolled to the left attempting to loop up behind him, but Grogaan was already manoeuvring in that direction when the enemy passed directly into his sights. Depressing the firing trigger for a long burst, the enemy ship shook under the barrage of laser bolts.
“I commend you Squadron Leader Learman. You have proved you are the best and now your score is settled,” said Kregarast knowing his life was about to come to a premature end. “It is an honour for me to be defeated by one as worthy as you. I salute you Squadron Leader Learman. You deserve this victory.”
Another burst from Kopaz leader’s lasers and the General, along with his starfighter exploded in a fireball.
Just as Grogaan destroyed the Krelathan General, the last enemy MCF was destroyed. Cries of delight and relief resounded over the ships’ comm systems, and pilots congratulated each other on their success. Grogaan’s heart was beating as fast as the wings of a Hafkon swift, and he realised he was so tense, he was on the verge of snapping. A simple mistake and that tension could easily have turned to stress, anxiety and doubt, ultimately leading to his early demise.
Taking a few deep breaths he brought his negative emotions under control, but his mind was reeling from the adrenaline and the effects the magical powers had upon those who used it incorrectly. Slowly, the tension began to ease and tiredness engulfed him.
Now Grogaan had meted out his vengeance on the Krelathans for the deaths of his loved ones, a calm and peaceful feeling descended upon him. This in turn increased the rate in which his anger and resentment subsided, and the weight of his grief was finally lifted from his soul.
Grogaan believed the reign of terror from the hidden base was at an end. The remaining pilots who were stationed there would be reluctant to engage in any more attacks, especially now their most infamous and honoured pilot, General Kregarast, had been killed.
His belief in regard to this mission’s importance was also confirmed, and he knew his destiny was sealed. This engagement proved he was adept in magic, but he needed this fact confirmed by another person adept in the art. His problem was that he had no idea who this might be, or where he would need to travel to find that person.