Earth Hope: Max's Capture

EarthHope Fiction Part 5

Chatter was wild over the EarthHope communications systems.  Lasers and rockets blasted across the dark sky illuminating massive Hushami Corp vessels against the blackness of space.  An emerald coloured beam screamed across the void from one of them and vapourised an EarthHope cruiser.

Max felt desperate.  His sensors refused to pick up the signals of the Hushami Tiger fighters.  They're cloaking devices made it next to impossible to detect with the standard sensors and instead actual human visual identification was needed to positively identify them.  His ship's targeting systems were due for an upgrade but he wasn't sure it would help - the Hushami technological levels were positively far in advance of anything EarthHope possessed.

A series of warning lights flickered on his console - enemy bombers were detected launching rockets against the EarthHope capital. Or were they? The Hushami Corps used decoys often and would try and lead the enemy on a series of false trails.  It made things very difficult to actually pin down just where and when the next strike would come from.

A flash of light filled Max's windscreen - some kind of beam had him in its sights and he seemed incapable of performing any operations with his ship - it seemed to be being pulled towards one of the Hushami vessels but he couldn't see a thing with the light shining through.

A shudder went through his vessel as something heavy clamped down around it. Max tried his best not to panic but the prisoner of war policy of the Hushami Corps was something feared by all.  They were a powerful and intimidating foe and Max did not know what was going to happen next.

A solid thud reverberated through the ship and Max felt his stomach sink.  He'd been captured pure and simple and what lay in store for him he did not know.

...to be continued...

Earth Hope Part 4 Fictional Story

Part 4

6 days Max had been on patrol.  He'd slept erratically in the moments he was able and while physically rested the stress of fighting it out with the AioSenti fleets was taking a toll on his mental agility.  He was noticing that he was making uncharacteristic errors.  Forgetting things. Making errors of judgement.

In a battle these things could prove fatal for him or his comrades.  A really bad mistake from a lapse in concentration could result in the deaths of dozens of men.   As such EarthHope had a procedure in place to remove pilots from duty temporarily when it looked as if they were becoming close to the edge.

It was a dangerous game but then the stakes were high.  AioSenti had fought back most of the colonies and was pushing hard against EarthHope's fleets across the systems.  Max knew that if the civilians back home knew just how badly EarthHope was doing in their fight they'd panic and be terrified.  It was a difficult responsibility and one that hung heavily over all the EarthHope pilots - more so with each strategic loss.

Would AioSenti show pity or remorse? Would AioSenti be merciful?

It was difficult to know what they would do if they reached Earth itself.  Their way of thinking was utterly alien to a human mind.  Max had fought enough of them in battle to know that they were slippery fish - they could think fast and were improving every time they engaged.  Techniques that worked a week ago were no longer able to be employed. It was only a matter of time before high command ran out of options.  When that happened - God save the colonies.

EarthHope Fiction Part 3:The Simulation Tank

Part 3

Max watched as one of the latest recruits emerged,visibly shaking, from the simulation device.  He knew it would take the lucky lad a little while to recover before being immersed in the simulator again.  No one emerged from the simulator unaffected by it but typically it made the recruit stronger having mastered their fears.

The simulator was as close to real warfare as was humanly possible.  It worked as a kind of flotation tank in which the recruit was immersed fully and a number of electrodes were attached to neural pathways to stimulate sensations of pain, loss, joy, confusion, boredom and a host of other positive and negative emotions that fluctuated in a semi random pattern.

Typically this was one of the later stages of development of the recruits.  Basic training included firing weapons, handling the ships and other essential formation drills.  But this stage was where most recruits either passed or failed.  After each successful completion they were debriefed and given time to recover.  Failure sometimes occurred in which case a lengthier time was given for them to prepare anew unless they decided to quit.

Here they were tested in a safe environment to see whether they could survive the rigours of battle - both the conflict stages and the downtime.  Both aspects were dangerous to a pilot.  The obvious dangers of physical harm during engagement were complemented by the more subtle dangers of mental breakdown during downtime.

During downtime a recruit's mind could wander, could focus on the what-if scenarios and ruminate on endless scenarios that might never occur.  The simulator had a good understanding of human behaviour and knew how to trigger different emotions at different times, as well as triggering different lines of thought.

Max knew that with enough training in the simulator the recruits would be ready for anything. EarthHope Second Division fleet had one of the toughest simulators and was known for producing quality pilots above all else.

Earth Hope Pilot:Max Part 2

Part 2

Not a moment too soon the final AioSenti cruiser disintegrated under the concentrated fire of the remaining EarthHope fighters.

Max looked around.  In space there is no horizon, only endless void - but you can still pick up the shape of other vessels carefully if you know what to look for and where to look - and also what not to look for and what to avoid. The glare of the twin suns in this system is blinding and gazing at them could distract you from less easily visible dangers in the void.

He'd learned a lot since his time in the cadets.  Basic training prepared him but it wasn't until his first real engagement that he realised which parts were useful and which were not.  His flight instructor sergeant had drilled him well. She'd known precisely what to say, and what to do to get the most out of him.  She'd been a tough officer to serve under but she knew her stuff and had given him the skills to face real combat.  He was very thankful for such officers. Some of the officers weren't as good and most people learned quickly to avoid those ones - the old adage about those who teach can sometimes be true but thankfully in this case it wasn't.

With the most recent skirmish over Max lay back in his cockpit and dreamed of what he'd do when he got back to the carrier.  Most likely he'd get a call from one of his juniors to help with something.  And the flight commander may not be entirely happy with how he performed today - he'd made a couple of wrong turns and ended up almost having a collision.  But what he looked forward to was the carrier library.  They had some actual books there. Real books.  Books hadn't existed for centuries but this carrier had some. The flight commander was a bit eccentric like that.  He also kept meticulous hand written notes - a habit that had gone out of fashion long ago.  Something about better way of committing it to memory or something.

Yes. Max would go through some of the art books when he returned to base. There were some pictures of meadows and fields that he liked to see - such a long way from home out here.

Fiction:Max, the EarthHope fighter pilot - part 1

Part 1

Max had been a pilot with EarthHope 2nd division fleet for two months and 28 days now.  In a couple of days he was due to get some well needed R&R.  The last 3 weeks had seen him fight in only half a dozen sorties but he'd seen some of his best mates get injured and killed.  He himself had had a few close shaves.  Those he fought with came and went. Newbies, greens - the inexperienced.  Most of them didn't make it past the first sortie.  If they survived - they might survive a couple more and hopefully learn some valuable techniques for getting through.  But they still needed a lot of luck.
If high command gets it wrong and sends the wrong signals, or if the enemy just happens to be better on the day there's not a lot you can do.  Max had heard of entire squadrons lost because some fool in command thought they'd try something new and innovative without having tested the idea in the simulator first.  Dozens of lives lost simply because someone wanted to experiment.

Max needed the R&R.  In one sense it would be welcome relief.  But on another level he dreaded it. Partially because he knew it was only temporary. The respite and relief he would receive from the fighting would only serve to heighten the sense of dread and anticipation as those last few days of rest evaporated.  But there was worse than the dreaded anticipation.

Most of his friends and families had only experienced civilian life.  They'd not had to worry about whether some small enemy vessel would get past their defences and tear a rent in the hull causing the precious oxygen to leak out catastrophically. Or whether he would make it back alive or in one piece each night - or even whether the carrier he was stationed on would still be there on his return.

Max didn't talk about the goings on at the front lines with his family.  It was too hard.  His mother could sense the tension in Max and it caused her pain.  Max didn't like causing her pain.  The difference in the two worlds - the front line and civilian life was too great to be comprehensible to those who hadn't experienced it.  Sometimes in the name of survival you just had to do what needed doing.  In a spaceship, a precarious little bubble in the void you were effectively alone once you engaged.  Unlike ground combat - in a 3d environment with no cover, perfect visibility - it was a killing area.  This made it hard to make friends on the front line - not like in traditional combat as you couldn't help each other out.  There was no communication between the fighters but they knew that their success depended on each of them doing their job.  There was no one to blame should someone fuck up because if one failed - none of you would be returning home.

In two days Max would be eating dinner with family, most likely a roast - his father cooked a great roast.  Sometimes it felt he had to be emotionally stronger at these events - with those who loved him and he loved - than on the front lines. He knew he would be changed by the experience.  The last great war against the cybernetic AioSenti had seen innumerable men and women return changed people by the horrors they had experienced.  Ancient terms were used to describe it. Shell shock. Thousand yard stare.  Look '44'.

Max closed his eyes and hoped dinner would be lamb this time.