Depth Of Sacrifice

Part 3

"But they screwed up. They didn't take into account that some pockets of habitats went years without contact with other humans, so once people started dying, others had a lot of time to do something about it before they died. I was sent out to confirm the colony was lost. But even I was kept in the dark. I was to learn all I could about the antimatter harvesting. They armed me as a military vessel, in case of hostility, but they never expected me to use the nanobots you designed for them in the manner that I did. They also never told me the consequences of being incompatible, the bastards. But your nanobots, my Love, the ones you gave me before I left, allowed me to last longer and do things they never thought possible..."

...

As quickly as it comes, it fades. He can see the screen in front of him first with his eyes closed. He sees and hears the computer reading off its checklist.

'Lowering Heart Rate'

'Establishing Contact'

'Integrating Nervous System'

'Suppressing Amygdala'

'Increasing Oxygen To Anterior Cingulate, Parietal Lobe, Cerebellum, Frontal Lobe'

The list goes on but he only pays it partial attention. He can feel, and it's more than himself. He feels the ship. His mind is cold and clear as the energy of the sun strikes his hull. The engines hum like he's casually jogging, his arms stretched out as wings.

As his vision opens out before him, the computer retracts the readout to the side, where it won't bother him. It reads, 'Blackbird Merger Completion – Engaging Predatory Mode – Engaging Duality – Initializing Hexagon Fracture'

The jolt of adrenaline and other chemistry doesn't phase him. He mentally absorbs it and uses it as the feeling of himself splitting into six awarenesses overwhelms his senses. Then it clears and a small part of himself, a distant voice from the back of his mind, is astounded at his clarity and cold sagacity. His Others are now piloting ships he designed to carry passengers, but this one was built around his original ship's parameters. He was the tip of the sword, with one specific, selfish task.

Flexing his wings, he accelerates into the atmosphere, the computer guiding him as if he and it were one. He sees the reality of the planet below as well as the computer overlay of data. Satellite locations, threat analysis, airborne planes' directions and altitudes, ground targets, military sites. He sees the ground radar radiate up into the air, as color changes to his vision.

His skin grows warm with the heat as re-entry begins. His mind looks ahead, plans his course, and resolves his mission parameters. The friction of re-entry continues, increasing until the air around his fighter-jet body glows with plasma.

Like an arrow of flame.

He feels like multiple arrows, being stretched out this much, his thoughts and senses handling so much input from his Others.

A concentration of heat upon his back alerts him, it's not the re-entry. He notes that a satellite just fired a laser upon him. No matter, the ionized air he generates is preventing the focused energy from reaching him. The heated plasma gases envelop him like a cocoon.

They must already realize that he/they are entering at a much greater incline than should be possible. A small part in the back of his mind smiles at the thought that this very fact is what makes them fire on him in the first place. They now know he's something new.

But which him got fired upon? It's the small voice in back of his mind asking. It doesn't even make a ripple as it sinks into his purpose, an ocean of cold thought and calculation.

He checks on his Others. All is going to schedule.

Marine vessels will spot him for hundreds of kilometers as six fireballs drop into the night over the ocean. He feels the confidence in himselves grow as he becomes more fully one with the fighter jets. He turns sharply before he hits the ocean, barely skimming it with a kilometer to spare, his wings glowing with the friction of his speed.

At Mach 6, his shockwave leaves a rooster tail in the water. Even as he slows down, he passes over a ship. Checking the rearview camera feed, he sees it almost capsizing from the huge wave. Easing lower down and decelerating to just over Mach 1, he sheds his external heat, noting that his heat dump is at capacity.

Surface temperature over 600ºC but dropping, he observes.

Scanning the horizon ahead, he surveys the airplanes in the sky. No threat yet, two minutes until Landfall and Target.

The military is on the alert now. He'll have to deal with them soon. The computer responds to his system scan, reassuring him that it is well, eager to be in combat—it welcomes his merger. He dismisses this, he has no interest in emotions. He is purpose, will, and decision.

A distant coldness of blood runs down his jaw towards his neck. The implants thrust deeper into his body, like roots of a plant, and neural nets grow through his own nervous system, connecting him to the fighter systems. Not important. He continues to feel his ship, expands his familiarity. The engines are as if a part of his body, the wind caresses his skin, he looks out with the eyes of the ship. The computer overlays no longer seem foreign.

The horizon rolls toward him. A dark ocean at first, then the distant lights. He expands his vision into the infrared and ultraviolet. Target overlays counting down distance. At 240 meters above sea level, he passes over the city, traveling just over 950 kph. Some of the buildings rise up to meet him but he banks between them. Glass rains down to the streets as windows shatter from his passing. It is necessary to stay low. The computer, working through the nanobots, steadies his heartbeat, directs oxygen to those parts of his brain needed for combat.

The military base up ahead has already launched fighters. He rises from between the buildings of the city, engines increasing thrust. He/Computer catalogues threats and targets as he focuses on his first target. The incoming jet fires missiles before he turns it into a cloud of white fire.

The computer engages full Electronic Counter Measures as he banks sharply towards another target. One missile drops off course, but the other continues to seek him. He thrusts hard with his engines and the missile cannot turn sharply enough, confused by the ECMs.

One fighter ahead, two behind. He locks target acquisition on the first bogey, fires a single missile, then pulls his nose up hard into the sky. Several seconds later, the second fighter explodes. Continuing to climb straight up, he thrusts hard. The engines scream with joy, and feels this himself, as the fighters behind try to climb with him.

Computer systems monitor turbine and compressor speeds, fuel injection. Finally magnetic bottles bleed a single antimatter atom at a time into the exhaust chamber where after-burn is super-heated by the annihilation of two atoms into photons.

His thrust increases as white-hot gases, on the verge of becoming plasma, exit the engines, and he feels the G-force upon his body even within the ship. Subsystems respond eagerly to the call of full combat mode while other systems merrily fence with the enemy radar systems. Attempting to lock on, the bogies follow.