Human Error

Vigilantes

"Sir, we've lost them," he told his commander.

"Dammit… send more. Close to best if you have to, just get those damn kids back here!"

"Yes sir!"

The man hurried off to his station and picked up a little device, held it to his mouth, and pressed a button.

"Attention, all pilots able enough to fly decently and not die, report to the deck immediately. I repeat, all pilots able enough to fly, report here immediately."

The clacking of shoes started off quiet, then crescendoed until the steps ceased. Pilots halted in front of their commander, saluting him respectfully.

"Your mission is to catch these 7 kids and return them to Earth. Further orders will be given once they arrive. Now get to it before they figure out how to hyper jump."

"Sir yes sir!"

They scurried off for their fighter ships, which had a capsule shaped cockpit with wings that extended horizontally in a big hexagonal shaped plate. The ships were a sleek grey with red, blue, and white on the wings symbolizing they were from the USA Fleet. These spaceships are specifically designed for space fighting and nothing else, their sole purpose being shoot and capture or shoot to kill.

The engines fired up and the barrier holding them back opened slowly. As it got to a certain point, the Fighters hovered over and then shot out and up, heading out of the atmosphere and gravitational field at an alarming speed. It slowed just a bit, but otherwise kept its speed stable. The pilots communicated through their earpieces as they headed towards the TRAPPEL-1 pod ship.

"These 10 year olds took out two of our men?"

"Remember they're modified, they can learn quicker than us, Henry," came the somewhat scratchy reply.

They took a formation in the shape of an "X" with two Fighters on each branch and one in the center. 9 total Fighters; they hoped it was enough.

The pod came into view and the pilots readied themselves, slipping down their visors and watching the movements of the ship closely. They patched through a vague warning, then sent warning shots beside, above, or below the ship. Some voice came through and said something a 10 year old shouldn't. It got the men ready to fire; they locked missiles onto the ship or got into position to fire rapid laser bullets.

"On my go, we shoot, ya hear?!"

"Yes sir!"

"1…"

The ship stayed where it was, but it had sped up a little, leading to the Fighters speeding up to keep up.

"2..."

Tension and nerves built up. They were about to gun down kids…

"3..."

Sweaty hands were wiped quickly and then pressed back onto the handle and control knobs.

"Go!"

A spray of lasers rained in front of the Fighters, missiles soon to come. The men, blinded by the lights momentarily, heard their head pilot.

"Cease fire! Cease fire!"

They stopped.

The ship was gone.